Where the road ends...

Where the road ends, formal Pretoria ends, and you drive into the informal settlement of Melusi. I learn that Melusi is just one of many informal settlements in Pretoria and across South Africa. Prof. Combrinck takes me on a drive to Melusi, and during my visit she teaches me a great deal: most of all, she teaches me to see the place with different eyes.

Just as water flows, people flow. They move towards opportunities, and where opportunities exist, people settle. This is also the case in informal settlements. People are searching for opportunities, mostly related to work, and once they find them, they settle and create a home. In the case of Melusi, on the other side of the main road, you can see the fences of the Coca-Cola factory, an important marker of nearby employment.

As we drive on, the road ends and Melusi begins. At first glance, I see dirt roads, which I actually love, random portable toilets, large amounts of waste, a man walking high on drugs and small houses made from metal sheets. However, as we drive deeper into the community, Prof. Combrinck keeps pointing out all the ways people are actively creating a sense of home. People decorate their yards, build fences, pave driveways, paint their houses, and plant hedges. Suddenly, I start to see something very different. My eyes begin to search for the beauty people bring to their homes, using whatever they have, whether that is much or very little.

At first, I feel a bit disappointed in myself for not noticing this earlier, before my attention was drawn to it. I can relate to not having the time, money, or energy to make everything picture-perfect and finished. I am deeply grateful to Prof. Combrinck for helping me see this beauty and for teaching me about the sensitivities in South Africa. One of the things she tells me is: “I don’t ask where you live, and you don’t ask me where I live.” She also teaches me about the political challenges South Africa faces, which I find fascinating, especially as a political scientist interested in how different political systems function.

The project is called “Co-Creating Wellness,” and that is exactly what people are doing. They create small things that help them feel happy and at home. This visit helped me remind me to ask myself: what do we really need to feel happy? In most cases, it is not a picture-perfect home with a flawless garden and a neat driveway.

For me, happiness is a cozy place to sit, watching my kids play while I drink my coffee. And just to be clear: my kids love playing in dirt, with mud, water, and stones. So you will not find a “perfect” garden at my place either.

By Sara Schaeken