A Slice of the Cake

In life, no matter who we are, we are born into a set of circumstances.  Rich.  Poor.  Middle class.  Haves.  Have-nots.  The list goes on.  Regardless of who you are, you are born into a certain situation.  While some of us get the so called big slice of the cake that is life, with the delicious and beautiful icing flowers on top, others seem to get a smaller slice, with a bit less of the confectionary sugary goodness, sometimes, sadly, with none at all.  Now, when we are young, we don’t get much say in the matter in terms of our circumstances.  What can we do at such a young age?  Impress the adults around us by uttering our first word.  Amaze our parents when we finally take our very first, somewhat wobbly steps.  Animate everyone that we are finally potty trained.  Try not to digest too many buggers.  Pick fights with our siblings just because we’re bored.  There is not too much we can do in terms of taking control of the surroundings we are born into.  Until we are older, we really can’t decide whether or not we will let these circumstances dictate who we are in life.

There has always been the idea of nature versus nurture.  Is it our environment that determines who we will be in our lives?  Or is it our upbringing, the care we receive at a young age that decides our future selves?  I’d have to believe that it’s a little bit of both.  I can’t stand to think that someone who is born into a life of virtually nothing (in terms of wealth) cannot rise to the top and make something of him or herself.  It happens every day.  People rise from the very bottom to the very top in life, making themselves something great, something immensely successful.  (If you haven’t read or seen The Pursuit of Happiness please stop reading my blog and pick this treasure up.  You will be glad that you did.  Don’t worry, my blog isn’t going anywhere).  I hope the learners I teach understand that just because wealth (as in material and monetary wealth) is not surrounding them, it does not mean that they cannot become something great.  Something incredible.  They can.  I see it in them every day.  I see it in their journal entries responding on what they would do as the president of South Africa.  I see it in their vocabulary tests, the scores slowly but surely going up.  I see it in their faces as that light bulb finally goes off, as that “aha!” moment finally happens for them.  All of them have the opportunity to be triumphant in this world.

For me, I was handed a pretty big slice of cake in life.  I was born into a loving, above middle-class family, with parents who were ready, and willing, to give my siblings and me the world on a silver platter.  They did just that.  I was blessed with a nice house, plenty of healthy food (although I refused to eat my green beans until the age of 20), warm clothes, a top notch education, and more.  I was missing some much needed icing in the father department, but even that changed when Jack came into our lives.  I guess you could say that I hit the “Jack”pot.  There was never an “I need” in my household.  Heck, there weren’t even many “I wants” in my household.  When there were “I wants” I am embarrassed to reflect on the childish way I acted, miff with my parents that they weren’t ready to buy me that $75 t-shirt that was the hottest item around.  I mean the 10 that were already in my closet and collecting dust obviously were not enough…

I always realized that I was lucky.  However, it never occurred to me just how lucky I was until the other day when my best friend in the village, Sylvia, told me that it was her daughter’s birthday in a few days.  Just to describe Sylvia a little bit, this woman is one of the most incredible women I have ever met.  She is kind, trusting, and giving.  Working for one of the primary schools where I have been placed, Silvia has raised her daughter, who is now in grade 1, single-handedly.  She fell pregnant in grade 11 during high school, and without any help, had to drop out of school.  The father offered no assistance, and continues to withhold support of any kind.  Now, 7 years later, Silvia is enrolled in ABET (Adult Based Education Training) trying to make up for the education she missed years ago.  She is the hardest worker in my village.  She is enthusiastically helping me to get Scouts off the ground and running at my one primary school, and we are doing this successfully so far I might add, thanks to her undying dedication.  Long story short, when I expressed my excitement about her daughter’s upcoming birthday, she seemed a bit down.  Sylvia explained to me that recently, due to government expenses and cuts in the school budget, her salary (she is paid by the school, the SGB – the School Governing Body – working as the Administrative Assistant at the school) has been cut back from R1, 000 to R700 per month.  If you do the math this is under $100 a month.  Her excitement had been dampened by the knowledge that she would not be able to afford a birthday cake for her daughter until the end of the month…I was shocked to say the least.

This got me to thinking back to my birthday parties and other celebrations from the time of my childhood to just before coming to South Africa.  When I was a kid, I had birthday parties that featured magic jumping castles and birthday parties thrown at Chucky Cheese (even though the giant rats scared the hell out of me!).  As I got older, I had birthday parties with Mary Kay makeup demonstrations, birthday parties with white chocolate martinis (obviously at a legal age), birthdays where my Mom and my Aunt drove from Philadelphia all the way to Boston for the night, birthdays again where my Mom made the 6 hour journey just to make baked ziti in my apartment for my closest friends and me, birthday celebrations at Sunset Cantina with tins of cookies, birthday parties where delicious cakes were carried for hours on khombis, and birthday parties at game reserves in South Africa.  The celebrations were great, but oh, the cakes.  The cakes were my favorite part!  From an Ariel to a Princess Cake (that I believe caused a microwave fire…) to an African inspired cake, they were all wonderful.  And delicious.  That doesn’t even begin to describe the festivities.  The presents were just as plentiful as the variety of birthday parties and cake flavors I had over my years.  I literally had it all.  And more.  And I always made sure that I had a big slice of the cake.  Sometimes two.  I never fully appreciated something seemingly as simple as a birthday party until recently.  Not everyone has the luxury of a birthday party.  Not everyone has the luxury of gifts.  Heck, some don’t even have the luxury of a birthday cake. 

I’ve started to open my eyes to the world around me.  I mean, really open up my eyes and take a good hard look at my life, my surroundings in the village.  I am in a rather rural, remote site.  Even when comparing my situation to the other PCV’s in my group, my village is pretty basic.  Pretty simplistic.  Not that I’m complaining.  I love it.   To give you a better idea… In order to get to and from my closest shopping town on Sundays I need to hike (take a bakkie/truck) from my village in order to get to the main tar road that is about 10k from me in the hopes of getting a taxi.  This happens on other days of the week as well since transport is pretty far and few between here.  Part of my village lives without any electricity at all.  This means cooking over the fire, and when it is cold, heating water over the fire for bathing.  Most of the families I know do not have a car.  Everyone relies on public transportation (the khombis), which as I noted above isn’t that reliable for us.  There are families of 4 or more in my village who live in a house comparable to the size of my rondavel that is made for one.  There are learners who have told me they hardly ever eat chicken or meat because their family cannot afford it.  Pap is the staple food here simply because it is inexpensive to buy.  The schools are mandated by the Department of Education to feed the learners at 10 in case they came to school hungry.  The kids push around old tires for fun, and make the niftiest wire cars for toys.

Even with the circumstances mentioned about, especially in reference to my close friend Sylvia, the people here do not seem bothered by the fact that they do not have a lot.  They are happy with their “slice of the cake,” no matter how small it may be.  They don’t seem to be missing any icing in life.  They continue to be some of the warmest, giving, and loving people I have ever met.  Even with the little that they have, they share.  They always give their best to you in order to make sure you are content.  Maybe it’s because they don’t know anything else.  Maybe it’s because they realize you only need the basics to get by.  I’m not really sure.  I reflect on the fact that I’m here for a little over 2 years.  They are here for a lifetime. 

Despite all of this, I continue to find myself using the phrase “I want.”  (I have gotten better since getting here, learning to live more with what I need rather than what I want, but still, I have a long way to go.)  I want a shower.  I want Starbucks.  I want to go to JCrew.  What I need is to get rid of “I want.”  I can get clean just fine with a bucket bath (I do, don’t worry).  I can get by on instant coffee.  And, despite the holes in my clothes that seem to say otherwise, my closet is plenty full.  Heck, when I do laundry, the clothes on the line take up more space than most family’s clothes do.  Is it bad to want sometimes?  If we can, is it okay to want?  Is it okay to want when there are others who need?

I really don’t know the answers to these questions.  I’m still trying to find out.  I’m still trying to cope with the fact that as I get by on a nutritionally balanced diet, and even get supplemented with gifts of Reeses and Dunkin Donuts coffee, there are kids right next door who go to bed with empty stomachs.  I really don’t think it’s a sin to want.  I don’t think that it’s terrible to spoil yourself and those that you love if you can.  If you work for what you have, and if you have earned your share of the cake, you should certainly have your cake and eat it too.  Here’s my thing.  My take on the cake.  For those of us who are lucky enough to have that big slice of cake, we need to be sure to share with those who got the thinner slice.  After hearing about Lebo’s birthday and Sylvia’s dilemma, I baked banana bread.  I made a card.  I bought a dot to dot coloring book and a box of crayons.  It was really the least that I could do after all Sylvia has done for me.  She has made me feel welcome beyond belief, and has made me feel at home.  She was my first true friend in the village when everything was so foreign and new to me.  I know that she is always there for me.  All I can say is that box of crayons and the coloring book are the best purchases that I have made in years.  Seeing Lebo’s smile was priceless.  I say enjoy the cake you have been given.  However, let’s be sure to share our slice of the cake.  After all, there’s certainly enough to go around.

Le rata,

Meg :)