Surfing is hard, so is life

I dragged myself out of bed at 5:45 am despite grey skies and cold rain, and took my new surfboard to North Beach. This is one of the best city breaks in Durban, and thus is frequently occupied by some of the best surfers in South Africa.

Its a short drive to this beach from our little apartment in Morningside. On the way, I passed a group of street kids huddled in blankets under an awning. They too were just waking up for the day, though I suppose not to go surf or even to go to work. There were about 6-7 of them huddled in a nest of dirty blankets and soggy cardboard. Several of them carried plastic bottles that they frequently brought to their mouths as they stood around, rummaging through a trash can. I knew from experiences with street kids in Guatemala that they were inhaling glue fumes. This was a way to get high, avoid the cold, and probably to blunt the harsh reality around them. Unfortunately, the glue was also very toxic and very addicitve. I had seen it fry too many young boy's brains on the streets of Quetzaltenango.

I thought about how little they had. Nothing they possessed was of any worth at all. They themselves must feel quite worthless with no parents, no job or money. I wondered what it must be like to wake up every morning and re-realize that you lived one of the most undesirable lives on the planet. And its not like there are only a few of them. These kids lived in cities all over the developing world. Inhalation of glue seemed to be a common thread among them.

And I thought to myself that I shouldnt even bother with surfing. Here I was, about to do something so meaningless, so self-indulgent. Sometimes it doesnt feel right to relax when the world is as unfair and just plain shitty for so many people.

But, I knew nothing I could do right then and there would really ameliorate the situation. I doubted that these kids would listen, or even understand anything I had to say to them. So I pulled up, put on my wetsuit and walked out into the blue grey ocean breaking bright foam under a grey white white sky. Little rain drops drizzled all around me. It was cold.

To my suprise, North Beach was already populated with surfers and fisherman. The pier on North beach serves as a barrier to the breaking waves, and I used it to paddle out, under the lines and nets of bundled up fisherman. I paddled clear around the locals that all but owned the break next to the pier. I set up and waited for waves of water to roll in and take me somewhere.

I dont know if it had anything to do with the group of boys I had passed on the way, but I surfed pretty poorly this morning. I had a hard time catching the tall but poorly formed waves that rolled in. When I did catch one, It was too steep and I peeled down the face and an angle that sent my plunging down into the foam and turbulent water. Surfing is hard. Its really hard. I am amazed on a daily basis how bad I am compared to the locals here. They catch waves on tiny boards and weave and turn and spin with seemingly no effort at all.

The only upside to all this, was that I still have a lot of time here. Just its hard to make any sort of difference in this unjust world we live in, its hard to be a great surfer. But I have to remind myself that I have time on my side. I may be here until June, July. Several more months to catch waves, to see patients, to try and put together some sort of project that is worthwhile. If I am lucky, maybe I will succeed at both.