Tag Archives: poverty

Hello South Africa

“All life demands struggle. Those who have everything given to them become lazy, selfish, and insensitive to the real values of life. The very striving and hard work that we so constantly try to avoid is the major building block in the person we are today” ~ Pope Paul VI

Car Guard North Beach (Large)

Durban is warmer than most of SA but it was a slightly breezy 12 degrees C or so this morning before and shortly after sunrise. The dogs were shivering on the back of the LDV while we toured the yacht mole and beachfront. It was chilly! Perhaps the wind-chill made it 9 degrees C or so.

The street persons certainly had it hard last night and were mostly still frozen up and hidden in old blankets on cardboard mattresses in their usual hooks and crannies. By sunrise most of the street persons in the yacht mole are up and about; this morning it was cold and “sleep-in” time.

On our trip and some of the way home we drove past a few IOL newspaper headline signs at intersections revealing that the “guest house owner” still refused to apologise. This is the first and only such guest house owner I have come across in years that has an “alternative” opinion like this. In my regular travels to Pongola, Newcastle, Umtata and a week stint in Bloemfontein, I shared guest houses with persons of all walks of life; they were happy, I was happy and the guest house owners were happy.

I thought about the huge countrywide interest and energy being generated on this “Sodwana” subject and what was important to me, but then soon got back into the present as I got close to home.

The sun had risen higher by this time and a few of the regular raggedy street children had started to gather at the intersection near my home to beg for scraps of food and a few Rand. I thought about the opportunities available to them and when (if) they might move up the food chain or be forced into crime… By then I was home.

This morning’s pondering highlighted a photo for me that I had taken a few days back of a car guard who I met some weeks back. I told him I would return with my new camera, which I later did. He was keen for a few shots but his eyes kept darting towards the cars he had undertaken to guard.

He’s an eager energetic chap with enthusiasm for his work; beautiful stuff indeed.

Canon G3X, F5.6, ISO 320, 1/125 sec. Handheld.

Zoomed in from afar with +0.7 exp.comp. Nil flash.

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India 2014: City of Joy

City of Joy is a 1992 movie which involves life in in the slums of Calcutta. The inserted photo was taken in Mumbai and not Calcutta, but the joy of the two youngsters bathing a doll on the pavement on the side of the road was evident even before they noticed our presence from the taxi in which we were sitting.

A young girl and presumably her brother were being minded by what I believe to be their mother who seen seated in the background holding a third child: a young baby. Another lady seated alongside the mother and a slightly older boy was running over to the parent of children at the time I took the photo.

The young girl, upon seeing my presence, broke into huge smiles and a small wave from my side ensured that she waved back twice with a big grin.

After we drove on, she and her brother continued washing the doll using a small metal cooking pot filled with water. This was fun and games for sure without a mobile telephone or Apple iPad.

However, if I thought this to be a good example of joy from poverty stricken children then I was wrong as I had yet to experience the joy of the school children I encountered a week or so later in Dharavi, which is apparently one of the biggest slums in the world.

City of Joy

The Oliver Twist of Fatih, Istanbul

We watched this scenario unfold at the cash machine.

The photos are in order / sequence and one can observe Oliver in the green shirt / blue sleeves first attempt to obtain some of the spoils from his fellow gang member (purple shirt).

Refusal leads to tears then fisticuffs.

Oliver then tries his luck at the cash machine, succeeds and finally runs off with loot of his own.

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