EIL Intercultural Learning

Liam Quaide was an EIL travel award recipient in 2006. He spent 9 weeks in South Africa volunteering with the Special Life Care Centre in Balvenie, a respite centre for terminally ill HIV/ AIDS patients.

I spent nine weeks in Cape Town as a representative of EIL last summer. My experience of South Africa was like a long intense dream: multi-textured, all-consuming and ever-changing.

After a week of orientation near the centre of the city I was placed in a 'coloured' suburban community called Elsies River. (While 'coloured' is a derogatory archaicism in Europe and America, it is an official term in South Africa for people of mixed African/European descent.) Moving there from the pampered California-style environs of the Ashanti Lodge hostel was like an exercise in time travel. There was a rawness about Elsies River that reflected decades of social exclusion and poverty: legions of disaffected youths gathering in street corners, tiny unresourced play-grounds, Datsuns and Toyotas from the early 80s bobbing along traffic lanes like gigantic battered tin cans. As the community struggled to its feet after decades of being kicked down by Apartheid the grip of the Aids pandemic took hold. The introduction of a highly addictive and cheaply produced amphetamine known as 'tic' has wreaked untold damage on much of its youth over the past few years and brought increasing viciousness to gang crime. Despite their struggles, the vast majority of people I encountered in Elsies River were warm, helpful and good-humoured.

My host family were a retired couple. They were similar in age, and even in temperament and outlook, to my own parents. We hit it off immediately and our bond became increasingly familial as time went on. Their children were all reared and I think in some ways they were looking for a surrogate son. The closeness (and occasional turbulence) that characterised our relationship was worthy of an actual family situation. I was very glad to have their support throughout my time there. I appreciated their directness when they took issue with my scattered ways and they reacted honourably when I had to remind them on occasion that I was 27 and not 16. They were very concerned for my safety and at times worried a bit too much. The directness of South Africans in general was refreshing (though at first quite challenging) to me. It made for much healthier and speedier approaches to conflict resolution in relationships. I went for dinner with 'Mom' and 'Pops' in the splendid Mount Nelson Hotel a few days before I left and we pledged to see each other again within two years. I have every confidence that we will honour that agreement.

I feel very lucky to have worked at the Special Life Care Centre in Balvenie. I helped the nursing assistants in providing basic care needs- toileting, washing and feeding- to terminally ill patients. The majority were in the final stages of AIDS. I surprised myself with how quickly I adapted to this tragic environment. The most saddening aspect for me was the stigma that some patients suffered in their communities prior to admission, and the resultant lack of support from family and friends in their last few weeks. The spirit of perseverance and good humour that some patients maintained in the face of impending and agonising death was an inspiration. The silent resignation of others was heartbreaking to witness but completely understandable. Leaving the hospice was very difficult for me after the relationships I had formed and I will never forget these people. On the morning of my departure one of our patients John passed away after weeks of suffering. I left with the awful realisation that within a few months several of my other friends would have met the same fate.

My weekends in central Cape Town were intensely absorbing. I befriended an extraordinary mix of people, including an ex-convict hip-hop artist named Levi, a few tough conservative Afrikaaners, a flamboyant modern-day Oscar Wilde-type socialite called J.D. and a street-kid called 'Popeye' who wore a lady's coat with fur collars that somebody had left him and charmed money from passers-by with expert intuition. I also struck up an immediate connection with two Irish volunteers whose dynamism inspired me greatly. Tourists passing through from Australia, Europe, America and home added extra layers of exoticism and familiarity to the experience. As night fell the city pulsated with danger and excitement. Popeye and his colleagues- some of whom were no older than 12 or 13 and already addicted to crack- scuttled expectantly after nervous tourists, police cars screamed up Long St. with apocalypic sirens blaring and crowds began spilling into nightclubs. The sound of a gunshot split through the atmosphere of revelry one evening while myself and a group of locals partied on the balcony of the hostel- the streets below aswarm with people running scared.

My experience of Cape Town was like several scenes from a range of exotic novels distilled into nine magical weeks. I left with a determined desire to explore the whole continent. I am very grateful to EIL for making it all possible.

Liam Quaide