The man crouched on the street corner looked up at the boundless South African sky illuminated by stars almost as if the stars held a promise. Through the misty optimism and fortitude that resided in his gaze, I could detect the history of a man who had been broken and mended more than once. I listened, with my heart clinging to every word, as the man relinquished his life’s story, allowing it to descend upon me like monsoon rains.
He spoke of the promise of finding a job in a big city and the dearth of opportunity in his home town. He spoke of his girlfriend at home and how he calls her, guaranteeing everything will fall in place because Johannesburg offers real, tangible opportunity. Instead of getting lost amid the city lights, he was determined to outshine them. His hope was not ephemeral and was devoid of even the slightest pretense, and it was this quality that allowed him to radiate dignity. T
he light, dry air separating our two silhouettes was fortified by the melancholy intensity of the man’s voice that filled it. Indeed, the words, with their ability to ebb and flow, entered through my ears and took a firm grasp on my body. I felt I could never forget the strong yet somber melody of his story. When I left Johannesburg I took with me the lingering promise of the city, the promise that it would allow him to live the dream he had come for, and that if ever I returned he would no longer be huddled on that corner. Regardless of the rubble and city muck, I still believe. I still believe in the glow and electric vibrations of the city lights, as a reflection of the stars still holding their luminescent promise of a job and a home for that man.
Mina is an upcoming senior at the St. Andrews Episcopal School. Last spring she participated in the South Africa trip hosted by her school. For the duration of the trip she stayed with host families in different parts of the country and while in Johannesburg she helped distribute soup and bread to homeless men and women.
