I have become further convinced that South Africa is an incredibly diverse place. Last weekend we traveled up the Wild Coast towards Durban and spent some time in very rural regions. Traditional homes made of thick mud covered with various brightly colored exteriors and usually a thatched roof were scattered over the breathtaking countryside. These areas stretched for kilometers and were truly in the middle of nowhere. Much of the region, formerly known as the Transkei, was part of the forced removals and limited land distribution to blacks during colonial rule. We stayed for a couple days in a coastal rural area known as Mdumbi at a Backpackers. We were clearly wealthy outsider tourists, but it was a beautiful and interesting area to see, and the backpackers has a local education centre and non-profit in attempts to engage the community rather than close off from it. I got the impression that many people in the area live very materially simple lives and live one illness or bad crop away from tragedy. We met some interesting people, had a sweet drum jam session around a fire, kayaked along the beautiful Mdumbi river, and enjoyed the scenery.
I also played some soccer. At first I was just kicking a ball around on the dirt path outside the backpackers with a young local boy. It was really fun. He was shy and didn’t really respond to my conversation prompts in either English or Xhosa. I was wearing sneakers, cargo shorts, and a reasonably new t-shirt. The boy, whose name I never got, was barefoot, wearing a ripped and dirty shirt and ripped brown shorts. In one sense it was pretty cool because no matter the fact that he and I came from incredibly different places in life, we were both just enjoying kicking a soccer ball around. In another sense, it was like socioeconomic disparity slapping me right in the face. It was a very striking and memorable experience. A little later that same day I began kicking a ball around with five other local boys, probably all around 9 to 11 years old. PJ came out and then the seven of us went to a nearby field that was reasonably flat and had wooden goal posts standing freely in the field. We played barefoot soccer for a solid hour and a half. It was SO fun. And I was not slacking during the game by any means. They were really good and I had to hustle to keep up with them. Such a phenomenal experience. The interactions culminated with laughs and high-fives and then also with the boys asking us for some food or money. I gave them a couple of my cans of beans to share. I never know what to do in those situations. Oh yeah, and poverty still sucks. But I don’t know if the popular response of economic development is the appropriate answer.
Then we headed up to Port St. Johns, which is a beautiful pseudo-tropical coastal area. After one night there the rest of my traveling crew continued up to Durban and I met a Belgian/South African couple in their late 20s who gave me a lift all the way to King William’s town, about 5 hours away. They were really cool and had some really cool experiences in their life and interesting things to talk about. I was actually kind of sad when we said our goodbyes when I got off in KWT. Then I found the taxi rank in town and took a crowded bus filled with middle-aged Xhosa women back to Grahamstown that night. I love encountering all sorts of interesting people all the time. Whether it’s a 29 year old white South African traveler/surfer giving me a lift or a 50-something black South African women that’s curious as to why a white kid from the US is taking a mini-bus, I’m meeting really cool people all the time. And being safe, Mom and Dad. Nothing to worry about. J
I also played some soccer. At first I was just kicking a ball around on the dirt path outside the backpackers with a young local boy. It was really fun. He was shy and didn’t really respond to my conversation prompts in either English or Xhosa. I was wearing sneakers, cargo shorts, and a reasonably new t-shirt. The boy, whose name I never got, was barefoot, wearing a ripped and dirty shirt and ripped brown shorts. In one sense it was pretty cool because no matter the fact that he and I came from incredibly different places in life, we were both just enjoying kicking a soccer ball around. In another sense, it was like socioeconomic disparity slapping me right in the face. It was a very striking and memorable experience. A little later that same day I began kicking a ball around with five other local boys, probably all around 9 to 11 years old. PJ came out and then the seven of us went to a nearby field that was reasonably flat and had wooden goal posts standing freely in the field. We played barefoot soccer for a solid hour and a half. It was SO fun. And I was not slacking during the game by any means. They were really good and I had to hustle to keep up with them. Such a phenomenal experience. The interactions culminated with laughs and high-fives and then also with the boys asking us for some food or money. I gave them a couple of my cans of beans to share. I never know what to do in those situations. Oh yeah, and poverty still sucks. But I don’t know if the popular response of economic development is the appropriate answer.
Then we headed up to Port St. Johns, which is a beautiful pseudo-tropical coastal area. After one night there the rest of my traveling crew continued up to Durban and I met a Belgian/South African couple in their late 20s who gave me a lift all the way to King William’s town, about 5 hours away. They were really cool and had some really cool experiences in their life and interesting things to talk about. I was actually kind of sad when we said our goodbyes when I got off in KWT. Then I found the taxi rank in town and took a crowded bus filled with middle-aged Xhosa women back to Grahamstown that night. I love encountering all sorts of interesting people all the time. Whether it’s a 29 year old white South African traveler/surfer giving me a lift or a 50-something black South African women that’s curious as to why a white kid from the US is taking a mini-bus, I’m meeting really cool people all the time. And being safe, Mom and Dad. Nothing to worry about. J
