Red Rocket of Soweto

Hello all - Tonight I am writing from the frigid garage of the Mbizi Backpacker's Lodge at 288 Trichardt Road in Boksburg, SA, just outside of Johannesburg. While affordably priced at 100 Rand a night, the three coaches are all staying in one cozy bedroom (9' x 12') in this converted house. We have been growing closer, no doubt as a result of the beds abutting each other (reminds me of days in New South). Of course our bags, including the majority of my recovered Kigoma bag, fill the remaining space. Well, not all the space. We have been able to sneak in a small, electric space heater to get our noses and ears a tad warmer until we shut it off for night, night. However, after my day today, I am grateful for this arrangement.
If all works out correctly, my fantastic editors (Elsa and Jacqueline) will be attaching a photo with this post and possibly a short video clip of my day in Soweto. If you don't know, Soweto is the south west township on the outskirts of Joburg. There are roughly 4.5 million residents in the 13 neighborhoods with unemployment up to 65% or higher in many areas and poverty levels beyond description. In Klypton, a squatters neighborhood of Soweto, we met with the Klypton Youth Project. During our time there, we worked on some passing and juggling skills. While we lacked a proper soccer ball, we made due with a slightly deflated basketball on the dusty, cracked cement 15' x 30' field. The children, beaming with joy, gladly displayed competitve skill but more importantly, a willingness to come to school on Saturday as long as there was the prospect of fun, specifically including football (soccer to us yanks - notice I did not call us Yankees, as that word still evokes a sour taste to me). Teachers used this Saturday attendance to repeat certain lessons taught during the prior week. Among the morning session was a practice run of an
upcoming recital with songs in various languages and dance routines.
The 3-5 year olds displayed the same happiness, pride and nervousness as my nephews Peter and Rocco displayed in their recent recital in America. The darting eyes from their peers to their teachers to their audience reflected the similarities between all children, no matter in which country or continent they live.
One poignant memory for me was my time spent with one specific 4 or 5 year old. As he was too young to play with the older children and their basketball, he diligently dribbled a plastic 20 oz. Coke bottle around the small, dirt parking lot. I signaled for him to pass it to me, and he excitedly obliged. Of course, that is when the pressure turned on me. What exactly was I going to do with this bottle? With a lot of luck, I was able to step quickly on the neck of the bottle and propel the bottle in the air allowing me to juggle it a few
times. Having gained my new friend's respect, he began showing me
his full reportoire of moves. And while I longed to be able to find a ball for him, I felt good that the power of soccer, even without proper equipment, would draw him to school on a Saturday and provide him the opportunity to receive more education. As I had already taken a brief tour of the surrounding neighborhood, with its tiny one room, tin shanties, with no insulation or chance for electric heaters (the metallic homes had no electricity or plumbing), I knew that while a ball would be nice, education was the key to his bright, bright future.
Because typing is made difficult by the temps, I will end my post there and head off to the warm confines of my shared suite.