Yesterday afternoon I once again make contact with the South African health care. Do not worry I'm fine. But two girlies knocked on my door, to raise money for a friend who was suffering from abdominal cancer. For ten edge I could buy a pen and thus contribute my part to the OP. The fund-raising model seemed sufficiently tailored to my profession, so I was there. A blue pen is now my own.
But while I would not let it go and asked again - completely ignorant of the German miming - to, whether there was here no national health insurance and health care for all. All of that was certainly not fair, because with the South African health care I know me, at least at second hand from all good, my girlfriend is a doctor at a government hospital. For the sick is in this country a strict financial apartheid: Who can afford to, drawing on the prestigious private hospitals, who has not the money ends up in the often shabby-looking, miserable administrative mismanagement battered and materially and financially in particular here, Eastern Cape equipped public hospitals, where the result mainly young doctors in a futile struggle to ensure access by poor housing, poor nutrition and non-existent patient care driven avalanche.
straight for white South Africans, these bodies of pure horror. It would have free health care, said one girl, so too, but these hospitals were "nasty, dirty, smelly, dripping blood everywhere and people coughing up". Only the poorest white people sit down as far as to enter a public hospital. Then beg for an operation but rather go somewhere else. And to put it bluntly, all these prejudices are not pure disgust, I would also be in any of these hospitals in the current state.
What has made me thoughtful, was what the girls said it. They had "this thing called apartheid" in South Africa had, until 1993 - no 1994's was over, is throwing a girlfriend, but the other is sure that it was in 1993. Well one years more or less oppression, what of it. The two were born just about the time estimated. "I do not want to sound racist, but have adopted as the Africans, the country, everything went down the drain," she drives at least in Vocabulary during the political correctness gone. My tentative argument that the supply situation would have been for blacks before 1994 are not necessarily better, the two of them not really understand and I prefer to again tell the difference between private and state hospitals. The two girls, maybe 17, 18 years old really no big racists, I take from them - especially not in the internal comparison of this country. Nevertheless, I do not know if they would talk to my roommate so nice, although that is actually much more charming than I am.
"I like your accent," I giggled a coolie-seller meet at the end yet. "I do not like your attitude," I thought to myself, but also to pronounce it, I was not sure enough whether they really even understand what she says because in anticipation of my white understanding of a nonsense. The next time you look in the mailbox, I found even a piece of paper with telephone numbers and the desire to know me better. Since I know that vrek oulik in Afrikaans something like "sweet" is. I find it sweet. Maybe I was supposed to predict. There would be so much to tell.
For example, that South Africa in the whole reconciliation and Vereinigungssoße that for years as a thick oil film across the country, is in the wrong hugs suffocated while under the cover of the old resentment continues to simmer. True understanding is different than the young people today do not even know when apartheid ended, let alone what it was. And without this knowledge there can be no proper awareness on current issues. The health system is of course only a focal point, but an important one. Of course, the supply could be much better here. If more people had access to education, work and healthy eating and living beyond reasonable even in homes would, in the evening rather than half in smoke and stench of paraffin stoves provisional to suffocate and freeze to death at night anyway by leaky tin roofs wet ceiling rained halfway. If to the rich-poor gap would be a bit less open. And if the vast sums flowing annually into private health care, would be used in a solidarity-based health insurance with the meager resources of the lower classes. Then, yes, and probably only then, the South African health system would work much better and no one would have to sell pens to fund cancer operations. But what I would do it tomorrow ... my notes
PS: Incidentally, this is an anniversary, the hundredth post. If it were me rather noticed what I had written more fun. Let's see, when Piet and me by once again comes along ...
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