Stressful jobs 101

The few days have been the biggest whirlwind of my 2.5 weeks so far here in South Africa. I have gone to bed extremely tired every single night from work, stress, fitting into daily life, etc. If this pattern holds, my time here will have flown in front of my eyes without me ever having taken a step back to realize it. I thought I would have time. I mean, there exists this concept of Africa time, that things are relaxed and that 5 minutes late is 10 minutes too early. I have yet to see this. Work is all go, no quit from the minute I step into the office. Life has become so exciting and eventful that I find myself running around to get somewhere the minute I get off work. Weekends are spent gaining first experiences, like Signal Hill last weekend, my first rugby game today, and a soccer game in the Nyanga township tomorrow. Where is my time to relax? Probably when I’m dead, but to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My week started with an extreme change. I am now a social worker at the CTRC. Intern just doesn’t accurately describe what it is I do so I have changed my title. I spend my days doing intake interviews, assessing peoples’ need, filling out requisition forms, and generally photocopying my life away. I can now add Namibia and Mozambique to the list of origin countries of people I’ve interviewed. Is it bad that I have a preference? I do not like speaking to people from francophone countries for the sole reason that I have to speak in French! It is extremely difficult to express to someone “I’m sorry, I’m just getting your information, we cannot give you any money today,” in English, but French is absolutely impossible! I want to convey actual remorse at not being able to help them but all that comes out is broken Franglais (yes, French-English) that I’m not even able to understand. This is how work is 3 days a week.

Wednesday was an strategy planning meeting at the Palms House Hotel (think fancy-shmancy) where we discussed the budget for the next year. My initial thinking was that I really did not have to be there, I served no purpose other than to eat free food and take up space. Midway through the meeting, roughly around hour 3, I realized how cool it was that I was there. We were discussing problems with the CTRC, how to resolve them, and the budget to be proposed to the UNHCR. I got to see how, with such a tiny budget, the CTRC is able to help thousands of people. I’m talking something around $700,000 helping thousands of people start small businesses, pay rent, medical expenses, funeral costs, get food, transport themselves, all in addition to building costs and employee salaries. Some days I just can’t help but think about how disorganized the CTRC is but then this blows my mind.

I would like to share how my day at work went Thursday. I feel it accurately portrays the ups and downs of my days at the CTRC. We got slammed with people coming in for transportation aid. Luckily I didn’t have to deal with this, instead, I received a massive stack of papers on my desk of people to interview. I did several of these in French and then a man from Namibia came in and absolutely broke my heart with his story. At around 12:30 pm I was getting ready to grab some lunch when in pops Stanley our security guard with the papers of some newly arrived refugees. When I say newly arrived, I mean newly arrived. They had been in South Africa for a total of 8 days, mostly in Pretoria but had spent the night before on the streets of Cape Town because they couldn’t find a place to stay. Apparently someone in Pretoria had told them that they could easily be helped in here… This speaks highly of the facilities in Cape Town but at the same time, the CTRC cannot handle a huge influx of refugees coming because someone said the grass is greener in Cape Town, as you will see in just a little bit. Truthfully, I was annoyed at having to deal with this as I had no idea what I was doing. The main social worker had left for the day and Christina was doing her own interviews thus this fell on me, a girl with 3 days of actual experience and feeling the crankiness that lack of breakfast and lunch brings. The main initiative was to find shelter for this man, his wife, and 9 month old child. I had to call a minimum of 10 shelters. No one would take them. They were either full, or they didn’t take children, or the phone number was wrong, or the wife didn’t speak enough English for the program. Then we moved onto mosques as at least the man was a practicing Muslim. Mosque after mosque would not take them. The couple agreed to separate and we still couldn’t find room for them. The couple agreed to stay in a church and still we couldn’t find room for them. I felt so helpless, as I’m sure they did. As the time drew nearer to tell them that their only option was another night on the streets, a womens shelter in Athlone called and said they had room for the wife and child. Christina told me to go with Stanley to transport them to the shelter, return, and find a place for the husband. Again I felt annoyance at having to do this, why did I have to go along and serve absolutely no purpose??? My entire attitude changed once we got there and I got to see the shelter. I really just took up space but it was so beneficial for me to see where a lot of our clients have to go when they first arrive in Cape Town. I was also able to talk to Stanley about life in South Africa on the drive. He served for 22 years in the South African Military as well as in the police force so he has a lot of stories to tell (quite a bit about how Observatory, where I live, is one of the most dangerous places…) When we passed Youngsfield Military base where a lot of Somali refugees work and live, he told me about his training there and pointed out some of the buildings. When we got back, Christina had already made arrangements for where the man was to go and Stanley took him right away, I didn’t tag along. I left work extremely drained, hungry, fulfilled at having “helped” and frustrated at not having been able to do more.

Outside of work, life in Cape Town is starting to fall into place. I’m discovering a routine and packing in as much as I can. Margarita Mondays are celebrated almost religiously, Tuesdays are for Xhosa, Wednesdays are for whatever plans get made, though they usually involve buy 1, get 1 free pizza at Babbos. Thursdays are for soccer with 3 people I know and 13 Euros, all from Norway, Holland, and Spain. I am the worst of all the players in addition to being the only girl. The cute boy from Holland kept apologizing to me when he’d knock me out of the way and I had Brandon there to encourage me, even when I gave the other team the ball… Oh gosh.

And finally, fridays usually consist of a planned activity with VAC. Yesterday we went to the Nyanga township to work on a community garden project. While others cleared fields, planted trees, started seedling pots, my job was to help paint a mural of a tree with hand prints as leaves. We got 4 or so kids to help us out and we made it a really fun experience. I can always be counted on to start a paint fight, so why should Nyanga be any different? After running around and around with the kids, I finally called time out due us being covered and to it being absolutely horrible paint that doesn’t wash out in water. The remedy to get this out? Soaking in paint thinner, lathering in Ammonia bathroom cleaner, and scrubbing like hell! I’ve showered 3 times since and I still can’t get it all off. It was such an amazing experience being there, working hard, hanging out with kids, I could probably do that every Friday afternoon. A mandatory beer was had at Scrumpy Jack’s upon return to Observatory, though we were all tired and dirty (and covered in paint that rubbed off onto the bar in the case of my roommate!) Fridays also tends to be the night to go out on the town. Me, I don’t enjoy this really as it means dressing up, getting a taxi, driving far, not knowing where we’re going, and staying out late. I am not so secretely an 80 year old woman at heart, so anything past 9:30 pm and I’m not a happy camper!

Last night we went to Long St. in Cape Town and I was able to see the massive party that it is. Just imagine club after bar after street food joint after club, stretching for blocks and blocks. Driving through or by it you see how empty the rest of the city is, everyone goes to Long Street! I would say the coolest thing about the night was sitting on the balcony of Dubliner just people-watching. I could have done that all night if only the wafting of street meat and mediterranean food hadn’t called our names from below.

Today I experienced a first. MY FIRST VIEWING OF A RUGBY MATCH WOOOOOO!!!! Me and Samantha met up with the other two interns from the CTRC to see Vodacom WP crush the Boland Kavaliers. As spring is officially here, the 85F temp brought us some rosy cheeks and color on the arm. I am not complaining! I was a complete novice before I entered the stadium, now I am a pro rugby spectator. Just don’t ask me the names of the positions, the scoring terms, the purpose of the scrum, or why these extremely large men stand behind each other and hike each others’ shorts up. The best part? The stadium is only 3 stops on the train away and the tickets (10th row back) were R50!!! Amazing! Cricket season in South Africa starts soon so I’ll be sure to go see one, or two, or a ton of those matches as well!

I will conclude by stating that I absolutely love my life here in Cape Town. The past summer I worked hard to become comfortable in my own skin. I feel that this is really paying off now as I have never felt more comfortable with who I am, as I have here. I am so glad that I made the choice to come here, and if I can find a way to stay in Cape Town indefinitely, I will. BUT, I will qualify that by saying it will be done legally. No being payed under the table or marrying anyone for a visa… yet. J