Life in South Africa

We had dinner with some of the other missionaries tonight to celebrate our friend, Jill's birthday. We were sharing some of the experiences we have had here as missionaries from America. One of the men in the group served his mission here when he was a young man. He talked about what life was like here after Apartheid. He mentioned that the blacks were treated by the whites as if they were invisible. It reminded me of something one of the ladies told me on one of our morning walks. Our morning walks take us through a very wealthy neighborhood where large homes are located behind high gated, barbed wired, walls. There are security booths located between every four homes where a black security guard sits. Each morning we walk past blacks going up and down the road on their way to work. We see black women entering the locked gates in the early morning hours to begin their workday. We see black women standing on the street corner with small white children as they await their rides to school. I always greet each person we pass with a cheerful "good morning". One day I said to my friend, "everyone is so friendly when I say good morning". She replied, "yes, they are friendly, but you will notice that they do not greet you until you first greet them." She went on to say, "it's a subtle holdover from Apartheid".

We've been here 3 weeks now and now I see that the "subtle holdover" doesn't seem so subtle anymore. We go to work each day at the Church's Africa Southeast Area Office where the Area Welfare Manager who we report to is black. In fact, many people in our office are black. However, there are also many whites who were born and raised here in South Africa. I have come to see that our office however, is not an accurate reflection of what life in Johannesburg is REALLY like. In fact, I believe we live in a kind of bubble here.

When we leave the office we see a different South Africa then we experience at the Area Offices. The division between whites and blacks is more obvious. Tonight I found myself reflecting on our life here in Johannesburg. I thought to myself who do we see driving cars? and who do we see waiting at the bus stops?  Who do we see dressed in rags on the street corners begging for a small handout to buy food? My mind drifts off to memories of our dinner last night. We dined in a restaurant where all the diners were white and all the servers were black. Then I recall that yesterday when we went to a strip mall there were young men in the parking lots who we paid to help us safely park our car. Not one of these men were white. Yesterday we came down to get in our car and realized that it had been washed. We were told that a man comes and washes peoples cars and leaves the windshield wipers up so we know that he has cleaned your car. At the end of the month he is given a small payment for his service. I think it would be a good guess to say that he is a black man. Then I remember that all the men who are the parking attendants are black. Each morning when we enter our building there is a black man who monitors who comes in and out of the building. Some days when I return from my morning walk there is a black woman mopping the hallway in front of my door. We don't take our trash out to the garbage bin, in fact, we just set the bag out by the front door and someone picks it up and takes it to the garbage bin for us. My guess is, this is a black person. Our doors and windows all have iron bars. The entrance to our apartment building is locked and a guard sits nearby and opens and closes the door as we come and go. We have been warned that we have to be cautious and not go out alone or go out at night. In fact, the whole city pretty much shuts down at night. We never venture far from our little neighborhood with locked doors and security guards. Even our Area Office Building is behind a locked gate with a guard. What I know is this,

 When people are hungry and cold they become desperate.  When  begging on the streets doesn't bring enough money home to feed a family, or the minimum wage job doesn't pay the bills, people will do what ever it takes to survive.  

I didn't know much about Apartheid until I came here but I believe that there are still some

 "not so subtle" remnants of apartheid right outside my door.  

The door to the left is the Service Elevator

The door to the right is the Service Entrance that goes into the kitchen