Tuesday, July 1st: Camp Begins

The roosters woke me up this morning and I immediately began to feel a little nervous, as today was the first day of camp. We entered the kitchen at the IOC, expecting the staff to be busy preparing breakfast and lunch for the kids. Naturally, no one was there, giving us our first experience with "Africa Time." V, (one of the IOC managers) arrived and sorted things out and we departed reasonably on time.

I decided to ride in the back of one of the covered pick-up trucks with the IOC staff. After seeing hundreds of people packed into these trucks on the way to iNgwavuma, I figured it was the best way to really experience African travel. I jumped in with our translators: Eugen, Vusie, Falakhe and C'Sana. All three spoke Zulu the entire trip (In fact, Eugen never stopped.) I held on, smiled and did my best to follow the conversation, although I failed miserably at doing so.

After another quick stop at the SPAR for breakfast food for the kids, we drove as far as I can imagine into the countryside. The further we travelled from the market, the worse the roads became. I am using the term loosely, as it consisted of more potholes and rocks than anything. The roads also went up and down incredible inclines, sometimes higher than 45 degrees. Each nasty bump we hit was met with shouts of disapproval, laughter and pounding on the rear glass. The ride was actually a blast. Who needs Six Flags when you can pile into a Toyota and whip around coutnry roads at 60 miles an hour?

The camp is held at a small school way out in the country, which is immediately surrounded by grazing land for the local cattle. They will walk right up next to the windows and look inside. Other kids from the school also hang around outside to see what is going on.

We arrived at the camp around 9:30 to find the kids patiently sitting in their desks along the near windows (many of which were broken).

I could immediately tell how excited they were by the looks on their faces, yet they remained almost completely silent. We finished our name tags for the kids and divided them into our small groups by age and gender so each group would have an even number. My group had two girls: Nobuhle and Noxolo and three boys: Sandiso, S'phmandla and Thabiso.

The first day of camp went extremely well. The kids are incredibly well behaved. They are clearly interested in the information we are giving them, which they probably do not get from their teachers here.

They started working on their HERO books shortly before lunch, which they clearly loved. We passed out markers, colored pencils and pens and they immediately buried their heads into their work. They worked diligently for over an hour, making each drawing as perfect as possible. I wanted to tell them how incredible their drawings were (most of them were very talented), but all I could manage in Zulu was "kuhle" (Good). Thobani drew a picture of himself standing next to a car that amazed us all.

They worked on their Trust Hands next, in which they trace their hand, write the names of five people they trust on each finger and then write their Struggles and Successes along the top. We hung each kids hand on the wall so they could walk along and read about eachothers' problems so they would know that they were not alone in their struggles and there were other people in their lives to help them with these problems.

Two of the children wrote their struggles in English. One included being sick and his success was the day his mother came home. The other's stuggles included not having shoes and being slashed by his older brother. His success was the day his house got electricity.

It's horrifying to think of some of the things these kids have seen and experienced. Yet they remain incredibly upbeat and energetic at the camp.

My favorite part of the day was the kids' reaction to having their picture taken. They all loved to pose and mugged for the camera every opportunity they got. They would immediately swarm whoever took the picture to see how it looked before pointing, laughing and running to take another. Thobani, in particular, cracked me up. He would do pose after pose in his cool leather jacket and purple Crocs. The kid's got style, no doubt about that.

The front of the school has a stage, which has "The future belongs to those who believe in the power of their dreams" in badly faded chalk, which somehow seems appropriate. The general outline in there; they just need someone to fill it in.

When we returned to the IOC, we were greeted by the screams of 15 orphans who were now bunking (unsupervised) in the rooms adjacent to us. We could hear them yelling and laughing in the showers and possibly using toilets for the first time. The kids would follow us everywhere and we eventually had to shoo them away as the night grew late.