Busiswa is 57 and not very tall, 5’2 if I had to hazard a guess, she walks with a slight limp, I am not sure why and I have never asked. Everyone knows her as Busi or Ma Busi.
Busi is hard of hearing, the result of TB medication taken years ago, she wears hearing aids, but still needs to lip read, she cannot hear much yet she still teaches because “this work is important, and people need it”. She has a broad smile, her eyes twinkle with delight and laughter, there is a playfulness and cheekiness that belies a younger person, a mischievousness. Busi and I laugh a lot, she has a way of speaking that is poignant and story-like. She is strong in ways that women are strong, women who have lived through much and carry a lot, while trying to lighten the load of others. Her body is not lithe, but her essence is, and with a wicked sense of humour (that smile again!) she has a sharp, astute, yet kind way of seeing the world: constantly curious, generous and grateful despite possessing so little in this material world.
Her Home
Busi lives just a stone’s throw from my house but in that distance the landscape changes quite dramatically from the well-pruned topiary and curated verges of the suburbs where every pothole and burst pipe is tended to with pace, before it meets the fenced-off chaos of poverty’s density, where potholes are the norm and water often flows freely over the mini- landfills erratically gathered. She lives in a two-room shack which she has furnished with care. Outside her window her world is noisy day and night, yet she cannot hear it. She lives here alone, save for the odd visit from a relative or friend.
Her Heart
I have known Busi for some time now, many years (how quickly that happens!) We met through yoga when we were both working at a local NGO, she would sometimes attend my classes and I would go to hers, forming a friendship over time, meeting for coffee and a chat, but our conversations always centered around our communal love for the wonder that is yoga. The more I have learnt about her and from her, the more I am awake to the startling depth of prejudices and inequality. She comes to my house to have access to information on postures and sequencing and themes, all of which add a potency and confidence. She is traditionally trained, I am not. I help her navigate her way through the world of the internet and I go to her for philosophy and inspiration, how to live what we practice on the mat. She lives, eats, breathes yoga.
She has so little in material terms and gives so much of her heart.
The Path to Sobriety
She hails from the Eastern Cape, has a daughter and three grandchildren, all of whom live in Jozi. Busi is a recovering alcoholic who has spent the last 24 years sober. She has ridden the ocean of pain and alcoholism, of complex trauma and deep loss, this great depth of life. She even lived under a bridge for a while, survived being stabbed, being homeless, being rescued and helped, but she has made it through the struggles of addiction to a place where AA plays an integral role in her life and she is able to mentor others. “AA taught me that we all have a peace in our hearts and peace of mind in exact proportions to the peace we bring into the lives of others”
India
Busi was the first person in her family to ever have been on a plane or travelled outside of the South African borders. Her community sponsored a trip to India to expand her knowledge, lived in the Sivananda ashram in Trivandrum, Kerala for a year and travelled throughout the country, studying and practicing yoga daily. From living under a bridge to living in an ashram in India. I love looking of pictures of the Busi then, she was so young, but still with that glint in her eye. She says she saw things in India that she could barely believe, India is a wondrously crazy place, and of course, the home of yoga. The sojourn in the ashram served her well and so shortly after her return home she moved into Ananda Katur in Rondebosch where she lived, learned and taught Sivananda yoga.
Busi has subsequently spent years working across Cape Town teaching yoga from Phiiippi to Hout Bay, in the early years she taught yoga and offered reflexology, and much of her work was paid, but in more recent time, this pathway of yoga has brought her to work in communities that live under the breadline and a far cry away from the shiny affluence and commerce of studios. She teaches in church halls, community spaces, tiny rooms, creches and field and lives on a SASA grant. She does this for the love of yoga, spreading the joy, she does it with pure intention.
I have watched Busi roll around on the floor with small children in creches teaching breathing and movement which she does with equal enthusiasm to teaching the elderly who sit on chairs and have minimal movement,. She is invested in her students young or old, mobile or challenged, and frequently asks me questions about anatomy and injuries (access to information again) and of course, she teaches people primarily in Xhosa, often walking from place to place because the taxi fare is expensive, and buses are not an option. She teaches with heart, a deep expression and veracity of tone, despite her inability to hear.
Challenges of Disability
The last audiologist we saw, said that her hearing loss is so profound that without hearing aids she would only be able to hear a loud bang. Currently, on a good day, she has one functioning aid, today she had none. So, I watched her watch me, collecting my words, catching one or two before they slipped away, trying to thread the meaning of my sentences together, weaving it into a coherent conversation to which she gives her full attention.
Busi is humble and graceful, she is kind and gentle despite the hardships of life. Her love and gratitude for this practice is a theme that is present in all our conversations and central to her life, through her teaching, in the way she lives and sees the world there is constant compassion for those around her.
