Heavenly Valley...not so heavenly

When I woke up this morning, I felt the cold air of a winter's day in Johannesburg. My feet were very chilly as they touched the tile floors of my host family's home. I quickly ran across the hall to the bathroom and jumped into a shower, the hot water warming my body and my blood. I dried off with a clean towel, brushed my teeth and put sunscreen on my face. Back in my room, I picked out a warm outfit from a number of outfits that I brought with me in a suitcase. I greeted Eugene, my "host family" father, and Corrien, a friend of theirs and volunteer at Come Back Mission, in the kitchen. The three of us ate our breakfast in the comfort of my host family's heated 3-bedroom home in Kebler Park. Meanwhile, in Heavenly Valley, a small settlement of 20 or so make-shift, corrugated tin shacks about 5 kilometers away, the residents did not experience the same morning as I. Many of them did not even get out of bed and chose to spend the chilly and snowy day under blankets, instead of letting their feet touch a cold concrete or dirt floor. They couldn't run to a bathroom to take a hot shower because they don't have hot showers. Actually, they don't evey have showers and their bathrooms are more of an outhouse shared with other families, sometimes without a door. If they did decide to get out of bed, they had few clothes to chose from and probably had to wear most of them just to stay warm. And breakfast? Many of them probably had little to eat. Maybe a slice of bread.

I visited Heavenly Valley today. If every there were an oxymoron, this would be it. Corrien and Cheryl, the executive director of Come Back Mission (CBM), took me to Heavenly Valley to see the programs that CBM has established there. As we parked the car, I could see several of the shacks pieced together with corrugated metal, carpet, boards, and whatever else that could keep the shelter in place and keep the weather out. Each "home" was surrounded by some sort of fencing, often pieced together with chain link and barbed wire. I saw about 6 men standing outside, warming themselves by the fire they had burning in a metal barrel. There were a number of dogs and puppies running around, dirty, hungry and starving for affection. I saw the concrete trough with 4 water spigots that serves as the only water source for the small, 40-year-old settlement. Only 3 of the spigots work and one leaks so much water that there is a small stream that runs through the middle of the "neighborhood". Corrien told me that they just recently moved some electrical cords that were hanging from a pole over the stream. I also saw one of the outhouses shared by a number of the homes, and a young man who didn't see the need to use the "toilet" and simply added his urine to the stream that runs between the shacks.

It was quite chilly outside, so we entered the pre-school (pictured here) where at least 20 young children spend their day learning, playing on new playground equipment, and eating breakfast and lunch. Because it was so cold, only about 8 children were at school today. Corrien said they others stayed under the covers today. The adorable little boys and girls who did brave the cold were bundled up in coats, hats and gloves, huddled together on the floor in one of 2 shipping crates that CBM has turned into the pre-school. The only heat in the small room was supplied by a hot plate where 2 women kept a pot of water hot. The children greeted me with smiles as I was introduced to each of them. I sat down on the cold floor with them, hoping some of my body heat would warm their little bodies, and handed my iPhone to Corrien to snap some pictures with them. The quiet children turned excited as I showed them the photos that were just taken. The were fascinated my iPhone and giggled as the looked at their little faces smiling back at them.

Corrien and I walked to the other shipping crate that has been divided into 2 small classrooms, with bright colored plastic chairs and educational posters hung on the walls. The cold weather closed school for the day - learning takes the back seat to trying to stay warm. Cheryl joined us as we walked through the settlement, greeting anyone outside with "howzit?" a common greeting among Afrikaans-speaking people in South Africa (and oddly enough, a common greeting in the Hawaiian islands). As we made our way through the maze of barbed-wire fencing separating each of the "properties," Cheryl stopped at one of the shacks and knocked on the wooden door. A man greeted us with a smile and invited us in out of the cold. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, unlit interior I could make out 3 different "rooms" divided by sheets hanging from the ceiling. The main room contained an odd assortment of broken down or discarded furniture, cooking pots and other possessions. The other 2 areas were taken up by a double or queen-sized mattress in each. I could make out at least 3 kids huddled under blankets in one bed and a young woman and a small boy in the other bed. Cheryl stopped by this particular shack because she wanted to check-in on the young woman, who had been ill for the past several weeks. The young woman sat up in bed and I could see she was thin, frail and her skin was covered in sores and dry skin. She said she was feeling better. Cheryl later told me she was in denial about having AIDS, refused to go on HIV anti-retroviral medications (ARVs), and told others in the community that she has cancer.

On the way to the car, we ran into Macy, an older black woman, and Cheryl introduced her to me as the volunteer who taught HIV/AIDS prevention to the people in the community. Macy had already been told about my visit and my HIV prevention expertise. She said she was looking forward to working with me next week to learn as much as she could so she could share it with the people in her community. Of course, I am thrilled to offer anything I can to her and am greatly looking forward to working with her next week.

When we returned to the Come Back Mission offices, Cheryl gave me a copy of the community analysis conducted by students from a Florida university 2 years ago. I was fascinated to read more about Heavenly Valley and learned that the unemployment rate is near 90% and that nearly 60% of the residents (both adults and children) are living with HIV/AIDS. I also learned that in the summertime, the fields surrounding two sides of the settlement grow so high with grass and weeds that not only are they a place for rats and snakes to hide, but also criminals looking to rob people, fight men and rape women. Despite all of the ills that affect this community, the residents stick together and try to protect one another, although the high rate of alcohol and drug use often gets in the way, causing residents to fight among themselves.

As I lay in bed under warm covers in a warm house on this cold South African winter's night writing this blog post, I feel blessed. It will be hard to sleep tonight knowing that the people I met earlier today are sleeping in shacks made of cold metal and that those adorable little childrens' smiles will become chattering teeth. But maybe, just maybe, one of those children will grow up without contracting HIV, without becoming addicted to alcohol and drugs, without turning to crime and will continue on a path to an education, to a job and to leaving Heavenly Valley to raise a family in a real home.

peace and blessings