Closure & Continuation

“I got the job!,” Siya runs excitedly throughout the office hugging everyone along the way, jumping up and down.

For several weeks, Siya had been looking for jobs, forwarding me any postings he found online that looked remotely like something he was interested in doing.  “I wanna apply to this,” the e-mail would read with the link to some kind of job with a local NGO, some right up his alley, some not so much.  We worked on a good CV and wrote cover letters for the positions, highlighting his years of experience in the non-profit world working as a Programs Coordinator for Grassroot Soccer.  The rate of unemployment in South Africa is grim, but I was sure that Siya would get at least something that would help him sustain his family, being the primary breadwinner.

A week before the site closed, Siya got word of a job that he had gotten: as a driver for the Volkswagen factory, as PE is the largest car manufacturer in South Africa conveniently.  His job was to drive brand new cars from the factory to the dealerships.  It was nothing like the job he held for the past 6 years.  It offered him a fraction of the salary provided to him by GRS.  Yet he was ecstatic.  Something was better than nothing, and in the job landscape of South Africa, you take what you get.

As noted in a previous post, Grassroot Soccer is in a rough patch financially. As a response, two sites in South Africa, Kimberley and my own, Port Elizabeth, were slated to shut their doors at the end of March.  It was a fate we had been warned about, but something that I don’t think any of us suspected would actually happen.  Only until the end of March, as we went on a mad dash to clear out the office, did we realize that we had reached an end of an era.

Leading up to the close, colleagues throughout Grassroot Soccer and concerned folks from home kept offering their condolences because of “how hard it must be to deal with everything.”  Honestly, there was nothing particularly difficult about the situation.  It was sad, for sure, but I think the entire staff were level-headed people, and they each served as a rock in their own regard.  They approached the grim circumstances in stride.

In short, I wasn’t worried because nobody else seemed worried.  Take the coaches, for instance.  When we told them about the site closure, it seemed like none of them batted an eyelash.  They went about their day, causing a raucous as per usual.  I’m not sure if it’s a quirk in the South African mentality, but I don’t think most of my staff or coaches thought of the office closure with any urgency as it concerned them or their livelihoods.  This is a good thing because it allowed people to stay calm, but it is also worrisome to think that my entire staff was out of a job, and two dozen coaches no longer had their meager stipends to support themselves.  Perhaps it’s the way people come to terms with the sad reality that the majority of young adults in this country are jobless.

I, and I would like to believe that my colleagues, saw the site closure as an opportunity.  Most of Grassroot Soccer PE’s staff had been with GRS for years, and for almost all, it was the only work experience they’ve had.  Same goes for the coaches who I hope I have helped, at least a little bit, prepare for their future work experiences.  From the countless conversations about hopes and dreams, to dozens of new CVs and applications, I can only hope that I have enabled them to take the next step in their lives.

I will definitely miss my Port Elizabeth home, even if it was the last place I thought I would have ended up.  The people who were gracious enough to take me in were the reason I warmed up to the place.  It will hold so many memories.  From nights at the Boardwalk, awkward conversations with Nik, the super cute trainer at the gym, trivia nights at the Music Kitchen, windy walks on the beach, the newspaper boy who greeted us every morning.  From nights at Chingadas, potjies and the Mandela Bay Mansion and brunches at Vovo Telo or Como or the Friendly Stranger.  From getting lost in New Brighton, fighting with kids in Addo, trying to play soccer in Uitenhage.  All that and more will stay with me for a long time.  Port Elizabeth was my first home, and my true home, in South Africa.

To my staff: Siya; Ntombi; Mandisa; Nowie; VIP; Ngwenya; and Spoky and the rest of the coaches.  We became a weird, mismatched family, and my short time with you showed me why I came to South Africa in the first place.  I wanted to learn, and I wanted to be inspired.  I realized with you that I was in the right place doing what I should be doing with my life.  I owe all of my future success to what I’ve learned from you.

To my Americans: Kelly; Ashley; Casey; Sarah; and Rachel.  Even though you were only there for the first few months of my time in PE, having your friendly American faces there while navigating South Africa there was so comforting.  Thanks to you, I was able to enjoy PE for what it was, and the adventures we were able to have made the transition so darn fun.

And to my small South African family: Kyle; Lebo; and the rest of the Mbodlela Sisters.  You guys were awesome for befriending a duo of ragtag Americans and showing us a fun time.  You helped so much in understanding this country and gave me a true, authentic experience.  Your generosity will always stay with me.  Whenever you make it to America, I hope to show the same courtesy to you.  I hope PE continues to treat you well.

As for my new life in Cape Town, it’s been a few weeks now since the move, and it’s been quite a whirlwind.  Cape Town is a magnificent city, and I’m finding new treasures every block.  It’s a shame to be here for such a short amount of time, but I will make the best of it.  More on the transition coming soon.

One last thing I want to talk about is the feeling of closure.  It’s that time in the year that people are talking about leaving, and it’s daunting to think about my life back in America in a few months with no real idea where I’m headed.  But things always seem to come together, and things are always linked.

The first day I got to Cape Town, I was able to meet up with a Rochester student, Lauren, and Ada, a friend from Semester at Sea who was doing another voyage.  Being on the other side of the world, it almost seemed like I was living a different life separate from everything that has already happened.  This convergence of my “previous” life and the one I’m currently living threw me for a loop and made me realize something incredibly vital: closure does not exist because life is continuous.  You can believe all you want that you’ve left things behind, but for all you know, those things will catch up to you again one day.  At it will be a pleasant surprise when they do.

So I will end with this: I could be saying goodbye to PE now, but only the-powers-that-be know the next time I’ll be saying hello.