Just another day for you and me in paradise

At one level we are in paradise.

The Wild Coast has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world – the magnificent bluffs covered in coastal bush right on the edge of the sea, white sands stretching as far as the eye can see, glimpses of waves breaking on rocks, throwing their spray high into the air. Bird life like you can’t believe – a whole flock of trumpeter hornbills, flying from erythrina to erythrina, with their red beaks sharp against the orange flowers; a giant kingfisher diving into the estuary right in front of our room. At this time of the year, the erythrina is in full bloom without a leaf in sight – you can see why they are called coral trees as they punctuate the dark bush. Roads are “organic” - they meander over the tops of the hills, rutted and weathered. The views as you round each corner are breathtaking, and you think “It can’t get better,” and then you glimpse the blue, blue sea – and it is better. We share the road with animals – patient donkeys standing at the side of the road, waiting to be used to carry water if the piped water breaks down. Cows, and an enormous number of bulls, staring us down as we try to negotiate the sharp curves. A cheeky little pale cream bullock, prancing and curvetting as he dares us to drive on his part of the road, before he gives in to the inevitable, and leaps into the bush, kicking up his heels. Wise goats with knowing eyes, perched on the sharpest and steepest of banks, or standing up on hind legs, eating the sweet tips of the thorn trees. Baby kids, drinking from their mothers, with stumpy tails wagging madly. Huge dirty sheep, with their clean little lambs trotting along next to them. And the dogs – thin and rangy, with long tails and possessive eyes – challenging us to enter their territory. From safe in the car, they hold no fears for us.

Then there is Umngazi River Bungalows – luxury in the best possible taste; beautiful buildings with thatch roofs and rustic but comfortable furniture; a dining room with magnificent meals, which means we have to be ultra-disciplined so we don’t regain the weight we have just lost; staff who treat us with the utmost friendliness, from the managers to the ghillies. Their motto is “Arrive as a guest, leave as a friend” and we will want to return again and again. The atmosphere is of the family hotel of long ago – kids welcome but freedom for parents who need it, safety for the kids as they play, a programme of activities if you want it – and then a luxury spa on the hill and 5 star dining room and lounge.

As we drive around we see smiling faces – people with parcels on their heads wave. When we give someone a lift, she is so grateful and friendly. Children have fat cheeks and smiling faces. There are pawpaw and banana trees in gardens and a few patches of cabbages. Houses are brightly painted and the green JoJo tanks next to many houses tell of fresh water for houses. Amongst the simpler houses, there are newly built houses of more western design, nestling next to mud houses that seem to have just “grown” there. In many ways, it is the Western eye’s picture of idyllic countryside.

The UKZN students are wonderful – we feel invigorated and young as we spend time with them. They work hard but are not too earnest; they tell us bits about their lives and we feel as though we are being welcomed into their private space. I watch them teach and they are magnificent – bringing the children into the 21st century with their energy.

So – is it a month in paradise? My calvanistic roots probably won’t let me wallow in the luxury and feel-good feelings for a month – not even for a week. What are the flies in this sweet life?

Probably the poverty is one of the hallmarks of this community. They are fortunate that the tourist industry employs many of the adults, so there is food and assistance available. Social grants mean there is always some money for food and I have been told that in the last 5 years, it is the grants that have led to the demise of subsistence farming on a larger scale.

The schools are “no fee” schools and parents have little say – or even interest – in what happens at school. The feeding scheme means that parents are happy for children to go to school, as they will get a good meal there – otherwise they might have to stay home to go fishing to catch some food for supper. As it is, on Pension payout day, many children have to stay home and look after the little ones while the pensioners go to fetch their money. The schools all go to Gr 9 – and then most children leave school. I wonder how families decide who is going on to Gr 10 – they have to travel to Port St John’s or Thombo or further afield to get an FET Phase education. And what are the options if they don’t – apart from the hospitality trade and fishing, what else is there in the area for some kind of employment? Umngazi helps with staff children if they show potential, but what about all the others.

The schools – there is some real joy in going to the schools – the shy little waves from kids who recognise us from earlier visits or think that we look friendly. This morning when I went into Smangele’s class, I was greeted as “mother.” Pete had a group of little boys with whom he could barely exchange a word, but who had a “conversation” about his fishing rod and showed him how they fish – he caught it all on video. One has obviously had some experience with a big fish – the bent finger represented a bent rod. There are teachers who are delightful – passionate about their veggie garden, dying to plant some flowers to beautify their garden. A Gr 2 teacher at Vukandlule has taken her class outside under the tree so Smangele can teach the Gr 3s on her own in the classroom. Principals are wanting to improve the facilities and give the children a taste of what they could have in a 21st century classroom. All 3 schools have been given computers and Sicambeni even has an interactive white board and data projector installed. But they can’t be used this week as a grid is being installed in the ceiling to stop further burglaries.

But there are also some depressing things about schools – lack of storage space, fencing; classrooms that are almost bare; desks that are broken so learners have to stand or share a small writing place; absentee teachers – after one teacher died in February, he has not been replaced, and other teachers are away so classes are unattended. I’m struggling with some of the interactions -the inevitable “you are white and so you know more” attitude from some teachers; the hand out for some kind of help – even if it is a perception that I have influence to get funding. The saddest thing for me is how much time is spent out of the classroom – arriving late at school and leaving early; the feeding scheme taking much longer than the time allocated and lessons being missed; classes without teachers.

Still, even with all these things, this is “another day for me in paradise.” What an experience.