Day Three: Lock up your things, girl…

I feel like I’ve got a “real job.” Strange I had to come to Africa for it. The commute is going to kill me.

Tonight when I got home, chugging my way through congestion like everyone else, I walked over to the posh shopping mall and saw my first African sky - somehow the colors seem different here, softer pinks, purples and blues. I’ve been asked by a few people if I feel safe in Jo’burg so here’s the answer: I’m staying in Sandton, one of the poshest parts of town. That mall has everything from Prada stores to a Hagen-daas ice-cream shop. Yeah, I feel safe. That said, I found out today I’ve been risking life and limb driving around with my laptop in my backpack on the passenger seat. Apparently, smash and grab is huge here – you don’t even have time to blink and you’re stuff is gone. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without my little Mac so I’m hiding it in the trunk now. You do have to be careful in Jo’burg – there are definitely places I wouldn’t walk, even in the daytime – but isn’t that like any major city?

My mall outing had a purpose: to buy blank CDs so I can burn music for the kids. The girls are huge Rihanna and Beyonce fans and the boys love 50 Cent and Usher. They lit up when I told them I would make them music for their stereo, and everyone had a request. “Auntie” Erin was asked for R Kelly (who?) and if I could please put Avril Lavigne on the girl’s CD. Apparently, they have yet to develop a taste in music.

When I came down from my cubicle – the excitement is everywhere, people! I’m writing newsletters! I’m developing volunteer feedback questionnaires! All seriousness, I do love what I’m doing – the little kids had just come in from school. Sifiso wrapped his arms around my legs and wouldn’t let go; a feisty group of six-year olds grabbed my book and practiced writing their names and their favorite colors; Thabo demonstrated his hula-hooping abilities while Londeka, clad from head to toe in pink pretended to mull over her favorite color. But they are cheeky, these kids: Gloria and Happiness (is that not the best name ever?) engaged me in a conversation about the Pretoria Zoo, which I visited last year. We were bantering back and forth when their tutor, none too pleased, came around the corner and barked at them – they’d been stalling going for homework time. Happiness is such a sweet little girl, but she’s tough: due to her illness, she is physically and mentally delayed, a 13-year old in an 8-year old body. Since coming to Cotlands she’s made huge strides – again a testimony to the power of ARVs, good nutrition and a stimulating environment.

What I realized about the kids, as they tugged on my arm or pulled me down to whisper a secret, is that they are dying for attention and affection. I interviewed two of the international volunteers today and Claire, a 18-year old London girl, told me the most rewarding part of her job is being able to provide the children with the attention they desperately need. Some of them aren’t orphans – they go for visits with their parents on the weekend, or are just here in the day – but those that are…well, you just want them to get adopted out as soon as possible. Cotlands might be an exceptional place, but nothing can replace the love of a parent.

Yes, I’d love to pull an Angelina. I want to take Kwalele home with me, my little chef-in-the-making. I love him.

Short post today, guys. I've finally hit the wall. Stay tuned: in the next few days I'm likely going to interviewing the Globe and Mail's Stephanie Nolen....and don't forget, there will be a review of the Lion King on Friday!