My Anthropology professor described South Africa as “beautifully fucked up.” I think that’s a pretty good way to sum it up. There is an incredible amount of beauty and diversity and community activism and cool people. At the same time there is a lot of conflict and suffering and things that are not so beautiful (note: see news on recent Xenophobic and economic violence and the thousands of people displaced). I’ve been pretty blessed to experience some aspects of both of these sides of South Africa first-hand.
I’ve been spending more and more time up at Ethembeni in Joza in the township around Grahamstown. I know I write/talk about it all the time, but the place is SO formative for my entire South African experience. I was talking to Connie (aka Nobantu), the woman who is one of my ‘mamas’ and runs the kitchen, about what Grahamstown was like during Apartheid. For some reason, I would like to think that little old Grahamstown would be more peaceable that other places in South Africa during that time, but I guess I was wrong. Connie said that kids from a secondary school near her home would run to her house and change clothes quickly to avoid being harassed by the police. Connie would cover for them and tell the police that there weren’t any school kids around there and that they should stop bothering her. I’ve also talked with Grace about activism and apartheid and whatnot a bunch of times. One really striking thing she said to me: “We would sing and sing for hours. In big crowds of people all around town. I’d come home afterwards and my husband would say ‘Ya know, some day you’re going to get arrested and not come home after that.’ I told him it didn’t matter. We were fighting for freedom.” It is amazing to really know people who were involved so intimately in that history of South Africa. Since all of that apartheid nonsense, some things have obviously changed for the better. But at the same time, unemployment, increasing economic inequality, some corruption and inefficiency in government, and HIV/AIDS are creating a whole host of problems even since 1994 when apartheid ended and Mandela was elected. Oh yeah, and a side note on Mandela…his first name is not ‘Nelson,’ it’s ‘Rolihlahla.’ The name ‘Nelson’ was given to him by an English school teacher who probably couldn’t pronounce his real name.
I’ve become further distraught and confused over the ‘issue’ of street kids. I have befriended a few guys who are regularly at different points around town begging or trying to do random odd-jobs to make a few bucks. I’ve also learned more about the intensity of the drug problems with these guys. It’s pretty rough. Some 14, 15, and 16 year old guys are already at addict status. I always try to do my best to learn names and get to know people a little bit, but I think I’m really coming to believe that hand outs—especially when a bunch of the guys are looking to get high—don’t do the trick. As much as my conscience is strained, there are outlets at City Hall and a couple local churches for meals that can provide some food. But also, there’s nothing wrong with a good conversation and the occasional orange or some bread to share.
This is long….but on a quick note, I’ve also been blessed by meeting some really cool people and developing some pretty sweet relationships, some South Africans and local folks as well as people from the US. There are good conversation partners, taco night friends, and travel buddies who don’t always get the most mentions in my blog entries, but have been a major part of my experience here. So yeah, holler if ya hear me.
I’ve been spending more and more time up at Ethembeni in Joza in the township around Grahamstown. I know I write/talk about it all the time, but the place is SO formative for my entire South African experience. I was talking to Connie (aka Nobantu), the woman who is one of my ‘mamas’ and runs the kitchen, about what Grahamstown was like during Apartheid. For some reason, I would like to think that little old Grahamstown would be more peaceable that other places in South Africa during that time, but I guess I was wrong. Connie said that kids from a secondary school near her home would run to her house and change clothes quickly to avoid being harassed by the police. Connie would cover for them and tell the police that there weren’t any school kids around there and that they should stop bothering her. I’ve also talked with Grace about activism and apartheid and whatnot a bunch of times. One really striking thing she said to me: “We would sing and sing for hours. In big crowds of people all around town. I’d come home afterwards and my husband would say ‘Ya know, some day you’re going to get arrested and not come home after that.’ I told him it didn’t matter. We were fighting for freedom.” It is amazing to really know people who were involved so intimately in that history of South Africa. Since all of that apartheid nonsense, some things have obviously changed for the better. But at the same time, unemployment, increasing economic inequality, some corruption and inefficiency in government, and HIV/AIDS are creating a whole host of problems even since 1994 when apartheid ended and Mandela was elected. Oh yeah, and a side note on Mandela…his first name is not ‘Nelson,’ it’s ‘Rolihlahla.’ The name ‘Nelson’ was given to him by an English school teacher who probably couldn’t pronounce his real name.
I’ve become further distraught and confused over the ‘issue’ of street kids. I have befriended a few guys who are regularly at different points around town begging or trying to do random odd-jobs to make a few bucks. I’ve also learned more about the intensity of the drug problems with these guys. It’s pretty rough. Some 14, 15, and 16 year old guys are already at addict status. I always try to do my best to learn names and get to know people a little bit, but I think I’m really coming to believe that hand outs—especially when a bunch of the guys are looking to get high—don’t do the trick. As much as my conscience is strained, there are outlets at City Hall and a couple local churches for meals that can provide some food. But also, there’s nothing wrong with a good conversation and the occasional orange or some bread to share.
This is long….but on a quick note, I’ve also been blessed by meeting some really cool people and developing some pretty sweet relationships, some South Africans and local folks as well as people from the US. There are good conversation partners, taco night friends, and travel buddies who don’t always get the most mentions in my blog entries, but have been a major part of my experience here. So yeah, holler if ya hear me.
