Capetown.
It is like inner city east london but where streets have not been turned on the ends. Here they still have real streets but also describable as slums.
It is a township. Poverty is hurting me.
We came here to visit a home
terrible conditions more like a charity shop with accidental damaged furniture throughout. Worse than that and crammed in a small space.
An Angel was in residence.
Her name was Rachel.
She is from the coloured sector of this large city with her sick elder brother in bed under a blanket as she conducted us around her home.
Every wednesday she cooks a mammoth pot full of meat and potatoes to give freely to humans in her crammed community. Another pot also went to the local church where, without any announcement, the locals came streaming with plastic tub or plate in hand - feeding a family of ten a local told me.
That's why we were here. To help in the prep and the serving of dish - smelling so good even twenty feet away.
I was with Gideon. A local Pastor who was also our chauffeur. It was not safe to walk down the streets.
I did some walking around to shake hands with some young humans - followed by older and older generations as the came within reach of my handshake and to see this strange white man from London.
Many of the men, old and young, had their front four teeth missing.
All were warm.
All greeted me with street handshakes and were up for questions.
I went for it.
Joining a gang here means also taking out four front top teeth and so many are like that. Gangsters.
-- Post From My iPhone
