For reasons not worth getting into, I am poaching space on the sixth floor of a new and somewhat upscale hotel in Joburg I’ve essentially snuck into. What would normally be used as a mini party room is now empty but for a few tables and chairs, and these look more like they are being stored than about to be set for any shindig. One or two people who work here wander in and express surprise at seeing me. I doubt I am making their lives easier, but as a presumed guest I am to be deferred to: “No-noh Sir, everything is-a fine.” I can stay where I am. Which I do, working with a wonderful panoramic view (last two pics) towards the city in front me.
If you look closely at the first picture you can see just beyond the line of circles from the soccer pitches are some kids. (Second zooms in on this a bit.)
Those kids (and many others) have been running back-and-forth behind that fence for the last sixty minutes at least. I can't quite make out if its the same group or the groups have been alternating or what, but for sure more calories are getting burned down there today than I will burn in the next month. Even from here the joy is palpable. Kids. Running. A ball. For a while the ball is kicked and for another while thrown, but always with play and energy.
In lieu of the confirmation video this post lacks, let me say the scene reminded me of this ten minute TED talk, which tells at least two great stories. The first is of an ideal kindergarten. The other is of how just a slight twist of thinking changes everything. I cannot recommend it strongly enough.
How is the moderate swank of this hotel tied to the lack of what those kids no doubt need? How do we extend joy into the routine of adult life given so little is needed for us to experience it full on when we are young? What are our responsibilities to one another given our different stations in life and our common stuggles?
Big questions.
The third picture is of the cigarette butt someone left on the balcony that I stepped out onto to take the picture of the kids and leads to two more questions: Why would someone leave a cigarette butt in a place which makes it entirely their responsibility detritus-wise and entirely someone else’s burden to clean? And do they think such disregard has nothing to do with the disparity between all that’s up, what’s down, in the world around them?
Asks the poacher . . .