Drive My Car

Good news: GRS freed up some budget space for a vehicle for me drive in KwaZulu-Natal.  Fortunately for my adventure-seeking side, my latest assignment consists of finding a suitable (and reasonably priced) used car to buy and then driving myself across South Africa to the one and only Mtubatuba.  I still can’t seem to figure out why GRS vetoed my first find, a posh BMW 3-series, despite it fitting the budget constraints.  It looks like we’ll end up settling for a make that’s a bit easier and cheaper to service here, like Toyota, VW, or Mazda.  Keeping my fingers crossed for an old maroon VW minibus I saw yesterday.

I’ll need the car to check up on all of the rural schools in KZN that use the GRS curriculum, called Skillz, and help transport coaches to and from events.  In addition, I’ll be driving a bunch of bags and boxes full of new soccer gear (donated by GRS sponsors) out to Mtuba that will be distributed, bit by bit, to the coaches.  While these hand outs seemed trivial to me at first, as I start to better understand South African volunteerism, I’m now realizing that Nike or Adidas gear is actually used as a medium of exchange in certain parts of the country. 

In the US, we typically think of volunteering as giving time, money, or expertise from a position of privilege.  The GRS internship program I am participating in would be a good example: young college graduates taking a year away from their various career pursuits in order to contribute to a cause (thanks to generous help from family, friends, etc.).  However, many South Africans volunteer partly because it is the most financially attractive occupation available, often due lack of opportunities for paid full- or part-time employment.  For instance, many of the GRS coaches support themselves with volunteer stipends provided by GRS. 

           

Unfortunately, the current financial arrangement between GRS and our partner Mpilonhle in KwaZulu-Natal does not allocate monetary stipends to coaches in that area.  This is especially tough given the rural setting, as transportation often proves very difficult.  So donated apparel from companies like Nike, whether cleats, shoes, shirts, shorts, or warm-ups, is a major form of compensation for them.  In addition to routine handouts, the gear can be used to incentivize high-quality coaching.

GRS has even used Nike gear to barter with local school systems in Zimbabwe, where children have to pay tuition to take classes.  We hand over product to a local school, and, in return, the school counts the gear towards full-year tuition for a certain number of students.

I’m picking up more interesting cultural nuances.  Tumi, one of a handful of GRS coaches who work at the Cape Town headquarters, has been teaching me some introductory Zulu phrases.  Yesterday she told me not to make eye contact when speaking with older Zulus, as this is considered disrespectful.  By contrast, avoiding eye contact might be interpreted as rude back home, where I was taught to ‘listen with my eyes’. 

I’ve also learned that the word “now” does not usually convey the same immediacy in Cape Town as it does in the US.  Here, the phrase “now now” can mean 5-10 minutes from, well, now.  And “just now”?  That’ll be about 20-30 minutes or more.  James, one of the people I report to at GRS, joked that Cape Town is known as the Mother City because everything takes nine months to happen. 

Cheers and sizobonana (see you later).