To hope or to despair

Day 12
Today was the most revealing and fascinating day that we have had to far. When I read on the itinerary that we were touring townships, I had no idea what to expect. When we began driving through the formal townships, and informal shack communities I began to see what our guide called: The other side of Cape Town.”
We learned that to encourage racism against one another the Afrikaan government gave different accommodations to different racial groups. Indigenous blacks got the most deplorable conditions, and that was the first one we went to. We pulled up in front of an outdoor meat market and our guide (Brian) informed us that we should not take pictures of it because the people get embarrassed and angry. They feel embarrassed that their food is served this way, because they know that it isn’t “clean” according to western standards. I felt nervous about taking pictures anyway. Is their poverty tourism? Is that right? My reasons for taking pictures are for the education of my students. This IS real, I HAVE seen it, and it IS this bad. Brian also said to ask before we took pictures, and that most people would be excited and friendly about our visit.

I had an idea of what I was going to see, but dirty streets, trash on the side of the road, shack housing, starving dogs wandering around... but nothing can really prepare you for the starting contrast that is the townships...

We were taken into an apartment of sorts. We entered into a dark bare kitchen with a sink, lone window and two plastic covered picnic tables that we were told become beds at night. Our guide had a few of us, me included, enter into one of the bedrooms. I was absolutely shocked to not only see 3 twin beds in a room that was 12ft x 20ft, and that there was a woman sitting on each bed. I was under the impression that the building was no longer used, but for tours. The women told us that they pay R20 per month for a bed in the apartment, and that their bed was for their entire family. One bed was a family of 7, one a family of 5, and one was a family of 4. There are 16 people living in that room! I looked at the woman sitting on the bed and noticed that there was 7 changes of clothes sitting in small piles around on the bed. I realized that everything they owned was on this twin bed and up on a small shelf above it and I felt this intense shock. You know it exists, but our frame of reference is so small in comparison. Outside, I saw a little boy squatting in the street and then his mother picked up a newspaper from the ground, wiped him with it, picked up his waste, and threw it away. This is the legacy of Apartheid and it is tragic.

Amongst the millions that live in these conditions are so many signs of hope. People get shipping containers and open their own businesses, and many people choose to give back to their community. We met a woman, Beauty, who became HIV positive due to her husband’s straying ways. While she cannot publicly speak of her status, (no one can, they would be shunned from the community), she spends her life teaching others her sewing skills for free. We met another man who picked up cans from the trash that is piled up in the streets. Since nothing can grow in the flats (that’s why it was given to the blacks and colored people) he began making flowers out of cans. Perhaps the biggest sign of hope is the children. Full of smiles, laughter enthusiasm, dance moves and so wanting hugs, high-fives, handshakes, and LOTS of pictures. Every time we got off the bus, they would come out of the wood work and we would have up to 50 children following us around. They were so sweet, happy, and it made me hopeful for a country that got rid of its divisions politically, but not socially.


By far, the most moving experience I have ever had.