I mentioned in an earlier post about Clinton, our domestic help. It is very common in SA to have domestic help. Many homes, especially older ones, have domestic quarters. These are usually a small room, used as bedroom and/or lounge space, and a small bathroom. Domestic quarters are usually only accessible from the outside of the main house. Historically domestics lived in while their families lived in one of the townships. Gardeners and other help would travel in daily on one of the local jitneys. Today domestic help is still very common and very affordable though most of the workers come in only for the day and go home each evening. It is considered your social responsibility to employ domestic help if you can afford it. The home we are renting has had a domestic named Clinton for the last 3 years. Our landlord asked us to keep Clinton on as he is a hard worker and has a pregnant wife, thus needing the income. Currently Clinton comes to our home 3 days a week to wash, iron, clean, and do any other chores that need doing. He charges Rand 170 per day, which is about USD 25.00. We also have a gardener that comes once a week to maintain the yard and pool. His name is Clopus and his fee is covered by the landlord.
Both Clinton and Clopus are from Zimbabwe and are quite nice and polite. When I am home I fix them lunch and when I am gone I make sure to leave food for them to fix their own lunch. We do not have domestic quarters in our home so they just sit at the dining room table and we eat together. On Wednesday I served them a true American lunch-hotdogs with squeeze mustard, sweet relish, and chopped onion, potato chips, and Coke. They ate it but I don't know how much they liked it. They are quiet men.
Diepsloot |
Anyway-what does this have to do with Soweto? That same Wednesday Clinton got a call from his wife that she thought she was in labor. This is their first child and both are very nervous. They live in Diepsloot, a township about 10 minutes north of where we live.
jitney traffic in Jo'burg |
Jody dials on cell. Jon answers.
Jody: Jon, pull up Coronation Hospital on your computer.
Jon: What's wrong?
Jody: Clinton's wife is in labor and we are on the way to the hospital.
Jon: (skeptical) OK. What do you need?
Jody: directions.
Jon: Use the GPS.
Jody: We're trying. Pull it up on google. We are a little frantic here.
Jon: OK-I am getting help now. (I go on speakerphone)
Voices in background-someone says "Coronation Hospital? That's in Soweto!"
Jody: Did I hear Soweto? How far is that?
Voices: about 20-30 km from Diepsloot. What is she doing in Diepsloot? Why is she driving to Soweto? These are not places she should go.
Jody: Guys-just give me directions. I have a pregnant woman in the car!
Jon: She's in the car with you? (incredulous)
Jody: Yes, she and her mom.
More Voices: Get on the N1; go left, no, go right. Look for the BP on the left. There is a BP on the right too.
Jody: N1 or M1 (there are both) ?? N like Nancy?
(finally Ronsley, a wonderful man, takes over and walks me through the directions step by step and we get there).
In the mean time, Clinton laments that he doesn't have a camera. I say, "that's okay. I bet we can get one in the gift shop at the hospital." That was such an American thing to say, as I look back on it. The Moosa Children and Women's hospital is old. Brick, about 4 stories tall, built in a square U shape, no AC, transoms above the doors, bars on the windows, flourescent bulbs suspended from chains in the ceiling, white iron beds, prison-like gates at the entrances to each ward. We were told at Casualty (emergency) to drop Veronica off, and come get her when she calls us to "fetch" her. There are no posh birthing rooms, no families sitting with you. Clinton, Veronica, and Sarah go in to get her admitted. I ask the security gaurd where I should park. He reiterates that we all should really leave now (it is about 4:30 pm), that the area isn't safe to stay in after dark. The problem is this: I am their only way home. The taxis/jitneys stopped running at 4:00 pm. If the nurses check her and say she isn't ready, they all have to leave and return to Diepsloot. So we wait. I parked the car in the lot, and we all sit in the car and talk, read the paper, and Sarah and Clinton call back and forth to Veronica on their cells, checking on her. She reports at one point that she is 1 cm. Neither she nor Clinton know what that means. Clinton and I have "the talk" in the car about needing to get to 10 cm and how that happens. As darkness nears, Jon and his co-workers (some of whom are familiar with Soweto personally) keep calling to tell me to leave before dark. I explain the dilemma. If they don't admit Veronica, we have to be there to drive her home. News comes that the doctor is making rounds and should be there soon to make a decision. Sarah asks me to go in and try to talk to the guards about persuading the doctor to see Veronica first so we can leave before dark. I talked my way past the guards on the first floor, explaining our concern about staying past dark versus stranding three people at the hospital with no where to stay. I get to the labor ward 2 grimey floors up. Once-adorable kiddy murals on the walls have been almost obliterated by graffiti. I go through the same speech with the female guard on this floor. I am a white woman in Soweto who has to be out before dark. Problem is...I can't leave until I know if I am leaving with or without the pregnant woman. No help, nada.
By 8 pm, the rains have come. Not just the rain, but thunder and lightning. Still no doctor. Clinton makes the call. We start back for Diepsloot without Veronica. Maybe she will give birth tonight but he will not be at the hospital. On the way back, the rain is so heavy that cars and trucks on the N1 are using their hazard lights. I cannot believe this is my first day driving. I am clutching the steering wheel so tightly my hands hurt. As we approach Fourways, my neighborhood, Clinton and his mother-in-law and another woman from Diepsloot whom Sarah ran into at the hospital all try to convince me to find a taxi for them to take the rest of the way (the woman was there visiting her cousin who had gone into labor in Diepsloot the day before. Doctors say she waited too long to come to the hospital and her baby was still-born. It was unbelievably sad). We tried to flag down several taxis but it was late and raining. I just told them we would go on to Diepsloot. By now the roads in Diepsloot are rushing with water, ruts and potholes are fillin quickly with water, rocks are exposed. The car's undercarriage scrapes a few times and I thought more than once that I wished I had Jonathan's Jeep for this drive. For the first time I was really scared that we would get stuck and began thinking about what might happen if we did. We dropped the women off at their stops. When we were alone, Clinton told me he didn't want me to take him home or drop him anywhere. He wanted to drive back with me to my house. He explained that it wasn't safe for me to be anywhere in or near Diepsloot at night alone. During the day he said a white woman would probably be fine but at night I could have been followed and not know it. Once I was alone, criminals could force my car off the road. He was so concerned. We drove back to the house where we had some soup and watched Oprah. He slept in the guest room that night. Thursday morning I got up to a note from Clinton, written in excellent handwriting and in perfect English ( he also speaks his native tongue Ndebele, which is a Bantu language, along with French and Afrikaans). He thanked me for everything, said they admitted Veronica late that night but was sending her home that day since she had not progressed, and he was off to his other job where he is a domestic for another family on Mondays and Thursdays. I don't know how Veronica got home. I am guessing her mother went and got her.
The hospital where Veronica will give birth |
Someone said to me today, "What an adventure!". It was indeed an adventure and so much more. It was an eye-opening learning experience, it was humbling and happy and sad and frightening and funny and surreal. It makes for a great blog entry. But for Clinton and Veronica and Sarah and literally millions of other South Africans, it is everyday life.
Note: I realize my Links are to Wikipedia, which I would normally never condone, especially for my students, but they are links that are easily accessible for most and are fairly comprehensive and accurate in these cases.
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