Its alright for you

The man stood outside on the corner of the Institute for most of the day, a sandal on one foot, the other bare. On the opposite side of Somerset Road is the Cape Town Harley Davidson show room right next to the Cubana bar and nightclub. Cubana closes at 4am. It makes a lot of noise, so once a month the manager calls to the Institute with a donation for R3000. You might chuckle to think that the monks of the Institute are carrying on something of a protection racket in reverse!

Somerset Road is a main artery into the city from Camps Bay and Seapoint passing the new football stadium half a kilometre away. In June 2010, the month of the World Cup, no one will be allowed to enter this area by car or by foot without a pass of some kind. The Institute will close its doors because street kids don’t get passes. Everything and everyone will step to one side for this much vaunted tournament.

In the late afternoon Fr. Michael and I were taking a beer outside Cubana as we waited for Karen and Margaret to join us. A middle aged white woman tried to sell us a hat. We declined with stern expressions hoping she would pass on quickly. Sensing we would not budge she gave up and simply asked for some money. We declined. She left with the words “Its alright for you” left hanging accusingly in the air. These barbs woke me up at 3am as I composed a blog in my sleep.

There is another young fellow, Johnnie, who sits on the pavement outside the Institute on Chiappiani. He has been through the programme several times. As the winter approaches he commits a petty crime to get himself into prison during the cold weather. The rest of the time he hangs out hoping he will get some food and whatever else is going from those who pass in and out of the gate. He usually does and today Karen had bought him a sandwich from the Spar newly opened at Cape Quarter.

As we crossed the street, the man with one sandal was being moved on. Karen said she would split the sandwich but Fr. Michael said he would take care of the kid around the corner. As I passed, I noticed the dried white froth on the corner of his mouth and the poor condition of his thin frame as he held the sandwich aloft saying a quiet thank you. It was as if it were a meteor from outer space. Karen wondered out loud if he would manage to open the hard plastic wrapping.

Then there is the lady with the hats. And there is always the question “why one and not the other?” How do we make this call? I am none the wiser as I sip my morning tea out here in Milnerton by the sea.