Most of us look away from misery

Every night, there are people huddled outside in the dark and the rain.
Wintertime, walking through Cape Town in the dark, in the rain…
It's not as desperate as it sounds.
There were six of us – safety in numbers – and we'd been at an event at The Book Lounge and were now meeting friends at an Italian eatery two blocks away, The Cousins Trattoria, where we'd eat bowls of pasta prepared at the table inside a giant Grana Padano cheese wheel.
Soon we were 11 and the wine flowed and it was so cosy that the older gent sitting next to me went to the bathroom to take off his vest. He's from parochial Fish Hoek and I laughed when he said: 'Wow, I never knew there were places like this in the city.'
Naturally we closed the restaurant, then tottered out into the squall and got an Uber home.
Yet that is not what stays with me about a delightful evening. Instead, as I took our guests the two dark blocks to dinner, I saw a strange sight ahead.
In the shadows, in the wet, underneath the overhang of a storefront, there was the flash of a high-vis vest, the shine of wet plastic under a streetlight, and it seemed that workers on the sidewalk were bailing up duvets in bags, some 20 or 25 sausages of fabric and clear plastic, all of the bundles laid out in a row outside the shop.
ALSO READ: Got an address? Prove it
As I moved my little band of merry diners into the street to get by, I realised they weren't bailing duvets at all. They were bailing humans. These were homeless people wrapped in blankets, then tightly cocooned in bags to keep dry, lying close together on the pavement for safety and warmth. A couple of people in yellow jackets – presumably charity workers – were helping them.
I looked away, quickly marching on, in part in fright, in part in shame, in part for fear of stealing their dignity as if that hadn't already happened, as if sleeping on the streets wasn't already discomfort and privation enough.
But mostly I looked away.
Then I went to dinner and went home and found that my hotel pillow was harder than I'd have liked, although not as hard as a pavement.
Every night, there are people huddled outside in the dark and the rain. And, mostly, we look away at the miserable life.
NOW READ: Afrikaner 'refugees' spot a ruse

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Most of us look away from misery

Every night, there are people huddled outside in the dark and the rain. Wintertime, walking through Cape Town in the dark, in the rain… It's not as desperate as it sounds. There were six of us – safety in numbers – and we'd been at an event at The Book Lounge and were now meeting friends at an Italian eatery two blocks away, The Cousins Trattoria, where we'd eat bowls of pasta prepared at the table inside a giant Grana Padano cheese wheel. Soon we were 11 and the wine flowed and it was so cosy that the older gent sitting next to me went to the bathroom to take off his vest. He's from parochial Fish Hoek and I laughed when he said: 'Wow, I never knew there were places like this in the city.' Naturally we closed the restaurant, then tottered out into the squall and got an Uber home. Yet that is not what stays with me about a delightful evening. Instead, as I took our guests the two dark blocks to dinner, I saw a strange sight ahead. In the shadows, in the wet, underneath the overhang of a storefront, there was the flash of a high-vis vest, the shine of wet plastic under a streetlight, and it seemed that workers on the sidewalk were bailing up duvets in bags, some 20 or 25 sausages of fabric and clear plastic, all of the bundles laid out in a row outside the shop. ALSO READ: Got an address? Prove it As I moved my little band of merry diners into the street to get by, I realised they weren't bailing duvets at all. They were bailing humans. These were homeless people wrapped in blankets, then tightly cocooned in bags to keep dry, lying close together on the pavement for safety and warmth. A couple of people in yellow jackets – presumably charity workers – were helping them. I looked away, quickly marching on, in part in fright, in part in shame, in part for fear of stealing their dignity as if that hadn't already happened, as if sleeping on the streets wasn't already discomfort and privation enough. But mostly I looked away. Then I went to dinner and went home and found that my hotel pillow was harder than I'd have liked, although not as hard as a pavement. Every night, there are people huddled outside in the dark and the rain. And, mostly, we look away at the miserable life. NOW READ: Afrikaner 'refugees' spot a ruse

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