Saying No Is Hard

Yesterday we left early (10 AM but hey, we’re college students) for the president’s house and offices. We walked passed Embassies like Burkina Fasso, Tunisia, and Palestine. It didn’t surprise me not to see the US Embassy. We mostly walked through residential areas as we got closer to the Union Buildings. In China, the US Embassy was more like a complex with an office building and several surrounding structures that dwarfed all the embassies around it. American extravagance knows no bounds. Once there we were directed from a side gate to the main road where there were lots of street vendors selling overpriced African themed trinkets. The South African White House (as we so nicknamed it) was beautiful from the outside and had a large park filled with native trees and flowers in front of it.

We had lunch at a shopping center we passed on the way. But before we crossed the street to check out our options, a man named George stopped us and asked if we could bring him food, he would appreciate it. We had a delicious lunch at an African-themed restaurant and took George our leftovers. He explained what his life was like under apartheid and that even now as a city construction employee, it was hard keeping his two children fed on his salary. His wife died several years ago and he is now the sole supporter of his children. He thanked us for lunch and dinner for the three of them and we headed home.

On the way to dinner, we were once again asked for help but this time in the form of money. I have personally been asked for money at least three times a day since we’ve been here. Poverty and begging are rampant in Pretoria. Back home, I gladly give a few dollars to those who ask of me (Matthew 5:42). In China, I was more than willing to give a few yuan (cents in US money, but those cents would easily provide a meal to a Chinese person) to any beggars we came across. I only wished I could have spoken to them and gotten to know them as people. To let them know that they are cared for on a deeper level than just throwing money at them. I feel that people need to be reassured of their humanity when they have to resort to begging to make a living and to stay alive. But here, I feel that if I were to give to everyone who asks (as I should) for five months, I would quickly drain my bank account. The unemployment rate here is 25%, but could easily be as high as 35% if a false report is turned in or people and jobs cannot be estimated. Because of this and the only short period of time apartheid has been lifted, it’s easy to see why so many people are resorting to begging. And with so many asking, it would be monetarily difficult to say yes every time. So I am learning to say no. And it hurts.