Radiac's South African Adventure, Part 12
African Adventure Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
Day Thirteen: Wednesday 27th October
My last full day in the country. Paul left early in the morning, I woke up shortly after and got ready quickly, because Wednesday is the day for Amke's cleaner, or as she calls her, her maid, and I thought it would be better if I was dressed before she arrived and I went down to introduce myself. She's a very nice lady, although only speaking broken English made it quite difficult for me to explain that I wanted to leave the house. After much conversation, I persuaded her to unlock the doors and open the electric gate, and once outside I saw a guy in a large car, so I got in and we drove off. I didn't know his name, and I still don't, but he looked kinda Mexican, so for the purposes of this entry I'll call him Pedro. Pedro worked for a tour operator, and on Monday, Paul had booked me a tour of Soweto.
Most people have heard of Soweto, but I'll explain it a bit for those of you who haven't, such as regular reader and rapper Ja Rule who, when in a press conference in Johannesburg publicising his recent tour, thought it was a nightclub.
Soweto stands for South West Township, and it was a march by students on June 16th 1976 that was pretty much the turning point for apartheid. The children were protesting against Afrikaans being the only language being taught in schools, and according to several eye-witness reports, they were marching peacefully until a policeman threw a rock into the mass. They threw some rocks back, then the police fired tear gas and bullets into the crowd and several people were killed, most famously a 12 year old boy, Hector Pieterson, who was photographed while being carried away from the fighting. It was essentially international condemnation and sanctions against the government concerning this and the subsequent violence in the area that eventually forced the end of apartheid.
Currently home to approximately 3 million, with around 60% unemployment it is a mostly no-go area for most SA whites - it has been frequently alluded to that if you go in you'll probably not make it out again, and if you do you'll probably have lost your car, your wallet and a fair amount of blood. Which is probably why everyone you speak to tells you to book a tour. It is a mostly residential area, with few shops or places of interest; middle-class families have expensive brick houses literally across the road from shanty towns made from corrugated iron and old tyres, while the horses and carts of the locals pass by the tour vans of the curious foreigners.
I was, unfortunately, one such curious foreigner. I say unfortunately because I feel dirty being a tourist and doing tourist things. I mean yes, that is what I am, but it doesn't always feel good, especially not when you're part of the machine that has turned one of the poorest areas of the world into a tourist attraction. But I felt that after I had seen the shopping malls of Hyde Park and Sandton City, the absurdity of Sun City and the glamour of the Cape Town Waterfront, that I should go into a township and see how the rest, a major percentage, of the country live.
As opposed to Bo-Kaap where I was shown around by a resident, I saw the outside from the outside. Some township tours I had read about are run by people who live in the area, and they show you into people's homes and lives to see exactly how they live. Although even more voyeuristic and wrong, I couldn't help feeling a bit let down as we drove through; "and this is another shanty town", Pedro would say. Not that Pedro was a bad tour - far from it, he knew his stuff, and it was very interesting to hear someone from the country speak his mind very frankly about the people who lived in Soweto.
We stopped off at the two tourist hot spots - Nelson Mandela's old home was first. This was a shrine to the man, but it was all very uninspiring - there was more on his love of boxing than anything else, and two rooms were devoted to gifts from foreign dignitaries and organisations, with virtually nothing about his involvement in South African politics. And the talk by the guide was uninspired as she read from her mental script - she was so bored giving it at one point that she sent a text message. Pedro then went into the shop with me to pay my entry fee, and then stood there waiting for me to buy something. I had read about this in my guide book, and heard something about it from the two girls from Badger's Mount who we met in Boschendal - they love making you feel awkward so you'll buy things. It's an unwritten rule for tourists entering townships; you have to buy things from the locals, bring some money into the area so they can better themselves. But I had been so unimpressed by the 'tour' that I just stood there, staring at the shelves full of caps and "I visited Mandela" t-shirts, waiting for Pedro to understand that I wasn't American.
After literally 5 minutes of this, we went back outside and got into the car, and continued on to the Hector Pieterson Museum, named after the boy. This was much better than Mandela's home, although I guess that's not saying much so I should back it up by saying it was very interesting and made the tour worthwhile. They explained much of what I already knew of the history of Soweto and apartheid, but it filled in many of the gaps and built on it with lots more information and personal comments. When I got outside, I was accosted by a gang of street salesmen - getting into a conversation with these people is fatal to your wallet. I left there with R3.70 (about 35p) and lots of stuff that I really didn't want.
After Pedro had returned me home and I had re-stocked my wallet with the last of my cash, Paul came back from school and took me over to Gold Reef City. Johannesburg was founded and grew as a result of a gold rush to the area, and Gold Reef City is a theme park, located on the site of a disused mining operation. It is, unsurprisingly, themed upon gold mining, although we weren't there for the rides - we wanted to go on a tour down the mine. After being kitted out with helmets and lights, we were taken down 200m to the first level of shaft 14 of the mine and led around, shown how mines worked, how the levels are dug and the gold seam is dug out, and how deep the mine was - very, something like 1.5km. Ouch.
After that we went across the road to the Apartheid Museum. It had a very unique entrance to try to give you a taste of race separation, where people were arbitrarily classified as black or non-black and you had to take a different route into the museum according to your classification. Once inside, it was packed full of information and exhibits and videos - unfortunately we had spent an hour and a half in Gold Reef City, and only had 45 minutes to go around the museum, as opposed to the 3 hours that they suggest. As a result it was a bit rushed, but it was still worthwhile, and it just about finished off the picture of the country that had been painted by the various museums and tours and experiences that I'd had over the past 13 days.
That evening I went over to the dress rehearsal of the St Stithians school play, Flat Stanley, about a child who gets flattened by a notice board and posted off to America for a holiday. After that there was a practice for the marimba concert which was to follow the play - I'd only seen marimbas played once before by some young children, and I was very impressed, especially by the elder groups.
Day Fourteen - Thursday 28th October
I am currently sitting in Amke's flat watching television, with all of my stuff packed by the door, waiting for Paul to come back from teaching to take me to the airport. I really do love South African TV - I've been watching soaps all morning, and I'm sure that's the first time I've ever seen an advert so long it needed credits.
Leave a comment
- Add a comment - it's quick, easy and anonymous