The Big Story Was Mine

Day three of the Camp, dinner over- we had the first Talent Show. It is at night, under a big ratty tent, with rain dripping through the seams, and one small light. It was a small fluorescent camp light. You still couldn’t see any of the performer’s faces.The kids were reluctant to come up this year. Lots of silliness and a few bad dancers. At last a good dancer- we had a computer with a scratch mode, hip hop and dance tracks- We were all clapping, enjoying the moment. My purse was in the craft area hidden in a closet where it had been all day. Lots of other workers had purses and valuables stashed around the MASH unit office and the craft area that doubles as the teachers dining hall. There were adults in and out of there all the time.

The next day I walked down to the business area to the bank to get money. When I got to the bank machine my wallet was gone…. Cards, driver’s license, OHIP card, 200 rand (only 15.00), travellers insurance etc. what an anxious moment, and a pain in the ass. By the time I had walked back to the Camp, I had calmed down. I had my passport hidden at our house and a second VISA card, I could get by and get home. Whoever did it was incredibly poor and could be forgiven, at least by me. I almost decided not to say anything. But it is a Camp for leaders and Peg wants them to be trustworthy, and it would have been a huge issue for her- so I spilled the beans. An announcement was made to the group.

Did I mention 4 boys had remained at the School for the Deaf over Christmas. Four boys with no families who were around the fringes of the Camp and getting some of the treats and a bit of attention between their

Chores, which included digging up a muddy field.

A day and half later, 10 p.m., M’e MaHlompho visited me in my room. “I think we have found the culprits” she said.Two of the bigger deaf boys were seen in the field wearing the tall, white gumboots the herd boys wear. They could never have afforded them and told her that a brother of one had visited and left money. No brother had been seen. I was more intrigued by the total

naivety of their actions than I was optimistic that my stuff would be returned. M’e was going to call in the Police early in the a.m. She also called in the Matron of the School to do the sign language interrogation.

Beautiful little Murai

M’e had seen the boys sitting near me at the Talent Show and also had seen them going in and out of the Craft area. We all called her the detective, a potential C.S.I., to her great amusement. And indeed, she had solved the case. After a brutal interrogation for an hour, which I had to witness, all the while wishing I could actually give them the boots, one of the boys caved. A trip their bedroom with the beautiful little Murai, the youngest deaf boy, yielded my cards – all of them- hidden amongst their clothing. It was unbelieveable, all back in my wallet except 200 rand. I have asked the Police for the boots back for the Centre.

Tlalane, my little sponsored girl cried when she heard I had been robbed. Most Basotho are humiliated when a guest is insulted, hurt, or harmed.A great shout when up when it was announced that all had been found. I have not had my purse off my shoulder since that day.