(origineel bericht op be-more.nl)
Photos!
Well guys I am delighted to announce that I purchased another camera today so hope to have some more images to share but for now these photos below were taken on my camera phone. Just slide your cursor over the images for a brief description. The townships are primitive yet beautiful places. The family’s really struggle - they rarely eat meat because they just can’t afford it. There’s little for kids to do and the cost of going to school is often beyond their reach. The funeral I attended was challenging on many fronts. The weather was stifling and standing close together for over an hour in a tin shed with 15 - 20 people didn’t help. The soaring harmonies of the church choir led with such amazingly strong voices was very emotive. The joy, clapping, and dancing contrasted with the grieving mother who lay on the ground surrounded by her sisters comforting her. It was bizarre to have a service without the coffin being present but usually if anyone meets a violent end their body cannot be brought in to the house for fear of it bringing bad luck. At the cemetery all the coffins are drapped with a big polar fleece blanket which is buried with them. Grave diggers dig the holes beforehand but it’s up to the men attending to stumble with the coffin across huge mounds of dirt and somehow lower the coffin and then fill in the grave. To see them sweating profusely in the heat filling in a 6 foot grave whilst the choir sang to motivate them was protracted and powerful. When the grave was filled (after the priest had initially said a few words) this signified that the funeral was over. It was so visceral and in your face, surrounded by hundreds of other people attending other funerals, and seeing the tears roll down their cheeks as they sang, whilst standing in the dirt and dust and trying not to get in the gravediggers way. In the end, the female members of the choir happily danced and sang around the grave. Considering that it was for someone I really didn’t know it was a powerful and emotive experience that was difficult to shake and I will never forget.
Some of the side streets in Durban have huge amounts of rubbish or broken glass. The stench of urine often hits your nostrils. People are still begging and there are always people selling goods or providing a service at traffic lights. Volunteers are told not to give money to beggars because it creates dependence on handouts and discourages work. However, some locals make a point of paying some beggars that are considered needy and respectful because they may ‘watch their backs’. They figure that whilst they are receiving some form of charity, they are less likely to turn to crime and end up robbing or attacking them. What do you think?