A country of contrasts

I finally figured out why Masoyi, the town I am living by, is not on the map. Across the valley, the outskirts of which are visible from my room window, two hundred and fifty thousand people live scattered across the hills. Here is where the contrast in this country is greatest. Not fifteen minutes away is the town of White River, which is on the map.

As we pulled onto the highway last Sunday three red Ferraris blew past us. Helicopters and ultralites land in the field outside of the restaurant where our small church is hosted. That afternoon, after church, I was invited to a fine lunch at the residence of the parents of one of my housemates.

The sprawling gated community, or 'estate' as it is called here, is beautiful, green, and meticulously kept. We enjoyed lunch outdoors, on a veranda which opens up right next to the golf course. This is the other South Africa. And if you don’t make the effort, this is the only South Africa the average visitor will experience.

I can understand why the plight of those in poverty doesn’t affect us in North America or Western Europe—we just don’t see it at home. Here in South Africa though, it really is next door. I suppose the same principle applies when it really comes down to it: If you don’t see it, it doesn’t matter. Nevertheless, the way that extreme wealth and extreme poverty can exist side by side is somewhat of a mystery to me.

It’s not just here of course, there are many countries where the wealth divide is stupendous. And in North America we're actually pretty much all rich . I don’t know what the solution is—it’s human nature, I suppose, to want nice things for ourselves, regardless of whether or not others can have them (or eat breakfast for that matter). I’m no different, really. When it comes down to it, I like my Ipod and nice bottle of red wine.

It sounds like buckets of water are pouring down outside my window right now. I tried to warn Callan that his clothes were still hanging outside, but he didn’t bother. Fortunately it usually only rains at night, but the sheer volume that falls briefly every couple of days here is astonishing. Picture all of the rain that falls on a typical day in Vancouver but compress it into a ten or fifteen minute window and add some deafening thunderclaps.

It’s beautiful in the morning though, cool and with a slightly sweet smell in the air that is unique to Africa. There’s bright sunshine in the morning almost without fail, and waking up to the birds is a daily pleasure not to be missed. Life can be pretty wonderful.