I am in South Africa again.  I am here as a True Collections athlete, tagging along with Santa Cruz bikes' Syndicate Team for the World Cup stop into which I will jump a parachute, landing at the finish.
I have traveled the world as a professional athlete for 13 years representing excellent companies.  However, I have never seen a company provide what does Santa Cruz and The True Collection.  I have stayed in nice places, been paid well, sported the best products, worked with the industries finest, seen incredible views and ridden mind blowing virgin mountains.  But that is different.  This team is being immersed in South African culture.  Visits to schools, game drives, surf breaks, parties, charitable fund raising and pre competition rest time are all on the agenda.

The amount of kids that I see come and go from the ski industry that travel the world seeing nothing more than the terrain park, a few fresh tracks, the inside of the local bar and the same lap top screen that they stare while home is infinite.  The amount of industry marketing programs that are excellent and thoroughly supportive to their athletes by providing the basics of food, lodging, transportation and even helicopters in order to make feats of marketing occur is also more than I can count.  But even with all that, life can still pass you by.

Today we visited a school and delivered a thousand pencils and a few dozen books.  They welcomed us with while singing a few songs.  The singing had a noticeable calming affect on the mob of kids who stood nearly on top of each other in the front half of the courtyard.  When the singing stopped they increasingly vibrated until their teacher would instinctively command them to sing some more before a riot ensued.  Soon, we stood in front of the kids and spoke briefly via translator.  We checked them out.  They checked us out.  There was a clear line between us and them, it was awkward and being kids, they crowded it, pushed it forward.  High fives followed our meager speeches and smiles brightened. Soon, those high fives gave way to secret handshakes.  There's is a horizontal five slap followed by a thumb snap that I'd never seen before. Awkwardness vanished.

Next, we checked out their learning environment.  In grade school, I was not alone spending hours wasting pages by scribbling on note pads, throwing paper airplanes, slouching in my seat.  That whole program is unheard of when you don't necessarily have a chair to slouch in, or a spare page to scribble on.  The children's notes were succinct and with excellent penmanship.  Lines were drawn straight with the use of a ruler and extreme care.  Circles were drawn to sketch clocks in their notepads.  The circles were near perfect, yet I am sure they hadn't any compasses.  My conclusion is that they traced the bottom of a bottle.

The experience was unique to my lifetime and offered a glimpse into the personalities of my newfound colleagues. Take Cedric Gracia for example, an industry dominator whose irreverent reputation precedes him.  This guy is magic when it comes to children. He vibrates exactly like a grade school child, making him incredibly relatable. Somewhere beneath his strong build and untamable spirit lies a very good kid who deeply appreciates what he has achieved in life, and the positive impact he has on others and his sport.  The only negative thing I can say so far is that it is good he rides a mountain bike better than he jumps rope.

Leaving the school was hard.  Not only because it remains a place with some realities that are tough to swallow (a 1/3 HIV positive rate, 5 year olds marching home being looked after only by other 5 year olds, many rough home lives, no toilets, food shortages), but more so because it was physically difficult to leave. Kids swarmed us as we tried to load up the vans, so i got out to assist the driver in safely backing up without creating the  day's first casualty.  This is when handshakes gave way to hugs and every kid wanted one, and they gave them like they meant it.  It was exceedingly heart warming.

The kids chased our van down the street; full on Olympic sprinters with back packs bouncing, footwear clanking.  When their screams faded and their smiles finally disappeared in the rearview mirror we contemplated  "Why did they like us so much? Why were they so stoked? Was it the pencils? the books?"

Cedric's guess was that a hug and some love was not normal for them. I wondered, if we somehow got them out of class early, when I was a kid that would certainly have brought me to huge smiles, hugs and a full sprint.  I guess we'll never know.