Norah: Queen of Putfontein

As you may have gathered, the bane of my existence in working with the Arks under Noah has been finding them.  How many red lights (robots, in South African English) was I supposed to go through?  If I'm going through 2 four-way stops, are you counting the 2 three-way stops that I went through, or was one of them a "four"-way stop?  (Yes, for the record.)  Contact numbers for managers, with numbers in the wrong order. Oy.

The first week that I was to go to Putfontein Ark, the organization sent someone to meet me and guide me in. That was the week that it took 90 minutes to find her.  I was looking for Norah's creche (day care center) as the meeting point. I asked at a gas station, a police station, a scrapyard, a random general store, and some business that I turned in to thinking it was the right place, but clearly wasn't.  How was I to know that the woman standing on the road, near a driveway that led a quarter mile to an unmarked building (the creche)… the woman I passed about 8 times... was my contact?

I'll never make a good spy.

The Putfontein Ark is one that is in informal settlement (think Squatter Camp).  Unlike Actonville, which at least has somewhat-organized streets, Putfontein, in the area of the Ark, is a haphazard scattering of houses. Just weave in between buildings, driving on what could be a road, could be a footpath, could be a gulley for water runoff, and thank your lucky stars for a teeny car.

I also spent, that first week, a good hour trying to find my way OUT of the settlement.  I knew that the boundaries weren't infinite and all roads had to lead to something in the way of an exit, but it was like driving in a hedge maze (think "The Shining").  When all the buildings around you are a mishmash of scap corregated metal, there's really not a lot to use as a landmark.

I never found the site again.  I went out on the next two Wednesday mornings, full of hope, which was eventually dashed.  But on those days, while I couldn't find my way to the center, I found my way out in roughly the same direction.  I decided this past Wednesday to try to START from the way that I had left.

It worked.  I took random turns, feeling my way back by instinct.  "It seems like it was this way. That tree looks potentially familiar.  I've seen men getting haircuts on the street corner before...Is that a road?"  Felt like a swallow returning to San Juan Capistrano.  Long and short of it, I made a random turn after following two sheep down a path, looked to my left, and there it was.

And there, I met Norah.

The Noah organization works by connecting with people in the communities who have some clout, identifying community needs, and getting the leaders to put the plans into action. Norah is ALL action.  On the site, there were the shipping containers commonly used by Noah as classrooms, offices, toilets, etc.  She was talking a mile a minute as she led me to another structure on the grounds, a large flimsy metal shack.  Inside, there were about twenty 20-somethings, clearly there for some sort of staff meeting.  And this is where Norah told me her story.

I am going to do this story from memory; there will be holes, gaps, and misinformation. But next Wednesday I'm going back and getting it all on tape, with her permission. Actually, she wants me to take the video back so that she can get invited to the US and raise some money. Here's why:

In '98, she went to a community water tap and found some kids playing nearby. Later the same day, she went back, and the same kids were there. It turns out that the kids' parents were off looking for work, which isn't uncommon. She found out that they hadn't eaten, and she took them home with her to share a loaf of bread.  The parents came home (with no job offers) and the kids went home.  The same thing happened the next day.  Eventually, the parents just left the kids in her care directly -- rather than having her find them left to their own devices. The home she was in she built herself from the normal metal sheets, but in her case she added a layer of insulation:  sand paper.  The roughly 12'x12' home was all she had.

Eventually, more parents left their kids with her, making her a de facto day care provider. Some left some food, the kids were fed, and they were safe.  When she got to 15-ish kids, she needed more room.  She was in Soweto, south of Johannesburg, and saw a larger-ish shelter, made of the same material.  She asked if the man was selling shelters, and he just gave it to her, once he heard her story.  According to Norah, that was perfectly fine -- she had no money anyway.

15 became 30... 30 became 50… and so on.  When her reputation spread, a "white man" donated a building and some land near the main road. (This was the daycare center that I couldn't find, mentioned earlier.)

In 2005, Noah came in and took over the daycare aspect and the education. She takes care of "after-care" for the most part.

Fast forward to now.  In the center where we were standing, they serve 140 daycare kids and 300 after-care kids.  The 20-somethings were her care coordinators, for lack of a better word. They're responsible for taking the kids to medical appointments, dealing with legalities and paperwork (who has a birth certificate, really?) school needs/uniforms/supplies, food and nutrition, shelter… and the list goes on.

The building that the man donated? Another 150 daycare kids (not funded by Noah), and I think 150 after-care.

The also pointed "over there" to another center, with 150 daycare kids, and 300 more aftercare. The care coordinators were EACH responsible for an average of 18 children and their families, for what families exist.

She also pointed out that "over there" they started a church of their own, saying that the need was there because several of the children in her care, orphans, passed away, and no church would bury them.  She invited me to come on Sunday to sing and dance with the rest of the congregation, which got laughs from her staff.  As I told them: don't dare me!

So… tomorrow morning I'll be looking for the Church of the Chosen in Putfontein. The directions I was given?

"You know the way you came in?  Did you see the sign for the clinic?  Good!  Don't turn right and go toward the clinic. Just go straight, and you'll find the church."

Is it marked? A sign? What's it look like??

"It's a brick building. You can't miss it." [The Ark is painted with bright colors, drawings of animals. I couldn't find that in a sea of gray shelters.]

But is there a sign?

"No. Everyone knows where it is… we just go."  [Well, everybody knows except the white guy from America.]

How far past the clinic sign?

"Oh, not far.  You'll see it."

Sigh.  Looking for the brick building with no sign or identifiable markings, just down the street from where I don't want to turn to go to the clinic.

I have three Sundays after this one to find it. If I DO, I was given permission to take pictures and video, so look for documentation on Facebook.

Wish me luck.