You're About to Get Schooled- Vestiges of Change in Higher Education

One of my favorite lecturers thus far has been Don Foster, who spoke to us about the psychological aspects of reconciliation in South Africa. Specifically, I'd like to further discuss the various examples he gave of ways in which society was still self-segregating, even on the campus of a liberal and forward thinking university like UCT.

One of his first examples was the beaches surrounding Cape Town- particularly Camps Bay and Clifton beaches- being racialized in waves, as a "white flight" occurs once black people begin arriving and setting up to enjoy the water. I had, ironically, just been to both beaches the weekend before, and had noticed that the only black people I saw, particularly at Clifton, were selling trinkets to everyone. It was strange- to this day, I cannot help but be at least a little shocked every time I see the excessive income disparity in South Africa. I've visited the poorest slums and the wealthiest neighborhoods in Cape Town- all of which are no more than a 30 to 45 minute drive away from each other. I felt so isolated on Clifton beach- it was small, it was white, and from my perspective, didn't feel like the real South Africa. I would much rather be welcomed with open arms in the park in Soweto then walk onto this beach where everyone was settled in their own specific claims on the sand. The self-segregation evident at Clifton was to some extent a reality check- had I made the decision subconsciously to visit a beach that would probably be wealthy and white? I keep checking myself as I walk around town, or on campus, to gauge how comfortable I am in situations depending on what the racial mix is. It's still sort of awkward feeling on the Jammie when Marni and I are the only white people on the bus in the afternoon, but the only way to become more comfortable in social situations that one is accustomed to is to experience them more often. So riding the Jammie it is! :)

But even that couldn't necessarily integrate us into having a diverse group of friends- research at UCT suggests that even on a campus as diverse as this one, people are still grouping off by race, whether they realize it or not. I was disappointed as well to be informed of the serious lack of diversity on CU's campus- I had no idea that only 500 black students attend our school. I feel like I would have been more comfortable with race if I was presented with a situation in which I would have to confront it and discuss it- and a perfect environment for just that is available all across the U.S. and the world in the form of college dorms. Living together is a great way to promote understanding and inter-personal relationships, and I think it would have been easier to make friends of all classes, races and any other different backgrounds if I hadn't lived with a bunch of upper-middle-class white kids. If everyone had been forced to break out of their shell and meet new people, I think the cliques and groups that formed on my floor wouldn't have been as exclusive and unwelcoming because everyone would have been in the same boat. It was just too easy to make friends with the exact same types of people that we all knew in high school. I hope to take away a better ability to reach out on campus, because I feel like it doesn't happen enough, even between students who are in the same class. There seems to be a fear there that is unconquerable, a wall that is unsurmountable- and I want to try and bridge that gap.

A video we got to watch earlier in the day was also indicative of youth's role in the social system in both the Apartheid and Post-Apartheid eras of South Africa- the movie we watched was pieced together from news clips during the era of the Soweto uprising, when hundreds of children were being arrested and taken away from their homes, basically at random. Similar to my experience at Robbin Island, the video made Apartheid feel far more real and tangible- the video was not professionally done- it was people standing in doorways as Security Forces drove away with their kids, or mothers washing tear gas off the faces of kids who couldn't have been older than 5 or 6. Similar to the way Mandela's book became more real for me after seeing Robbin Island, watching raw footage of what was happening in the township personalized the endless memorials and site visits we'd been doing in both Soweto and the Cape Flats. It's easy to forget how real people were effected when you start talking in broad terms and sociological jargon, and I am trying to be more mindful of this depersonalization in the way I discuss reconciliation in South African society today. Attempting to keep in mind the fact that people are all prone to the same faults and great acts of kindness humanizes the piecing together of a divided society post-Apartheid.

Whities in the Townships- Where the Heck are they?!

Well, it’s been a while since my last post, and as per usual there’s lots to say about our adventures in South Africa. My favorite part of Cape Town so far was visiting Robbin Island- I had just finished the part in Long Walk to Freedom that took place at the prison. It was literally like the words were coming to life before my eyes, which I hadn’t experienced so instantaneously before. Marni and I jokingly took photos of the book in front of where Mandela had buried his manuscript years before, which was a cool way to acknowledge the direct connections between the storyline and what we do in this class.

However, it hasn’t been all fun and games. We’re actually learning here too, and being able to go to class on campus (almost!) as beautiful as Boulder has been great. I’ve been struck throughout our endless stream of lectures and township visits by one thing- the lack of white volunteer work being done in the townships. Courtney and I had mentioned earlier in class how hard it is to do volunteering in Boulder, and compared it to how accessible it was here. When we went to dinner at Africa Café, I decided to ask Chris, our South African Interstudy guide, just to see why we weren’t seeing any white involvement in what was going on in the townships in the form of NGO’s building houses for the homeless and poor in the area. I was surprised by a lack of explanation, or even defense really- Chris stated that whites simply don’t go to the townships. It just doesn’t happen. I’m not sure if I’m justified in expecting them to be doing something about the problem just because it’s on their doorstep- there’s certainly problems around Boulder that I could be helping with because it’s geographically convenient- but I would at least be able to come up with a lame excuse like a lack of time or lack of passion for the cause. I feel like I got a better understanding of the situation with today’s contact hypothesis discussion- there’s an underlying mistrust there that needs to be dealt with, a commonality that needs to be established. I’m frustrated because I feel like building a house as a group would be an excellent bond-forming activity, but would unfortunately require a large amount of outside effort and a willingness to give up free time in order to better racial relations. Not necessarily on the typical South African’s daily to do list. After doing more work with contact hypothesis, I feel less angry about the situation than I did before, when the social factors at play here were rather invisible. I still believe strongly that assistance to the townships is something that should be going on via white communities working with black residents, but my initial shock at the way white South Africans skirt around the areas has subsided after a psychological explanation. From here on out, I’ll try and approach the issue with a broader mindset that encompasses the external factors that are constantly at play here, a method that is getting more important as we discuss more specific issues.

Today we went to the Mayibuye Center archives briefly before our education lecture, which was a really significant collection in terms of pure and unedited archiving of apartheid history. Rows and rows of documents, carefully boxed yet unsorted, stretching out before us. The guy giving us our impromptu tour mentioned several times that they were always short on staff, so the cataloging process for all of the photos, news clippings and video cuts that people of the area and even Desmond Tutu had entrusted to the university. Every time we visit these fresh historical sites- the places where, in the lifetime of people that I know like my parents, the notable events of Apartheid were happening- I feel so much more connected to what happened. These records, which are still being sorted after all these years, were just another reminder of how long it’s going to take South Africa to “sort out” the after effects of the system. I want to take away a better ability to listen and acknowledge that the people speaking to us about the story of South Africa were there, and lived through it. That merits a much more respectful attitude and full attention when hearing what they have to say on the subject. After seeing Robbin Island with my own eyes and looking through authentic apartheid artifacts, I’ve attempted to be more alert to the personal stories of the people we’re encountering, and how it affects the way that they show us their truth about apartheid.

Establishing Our Base - Cape Town

Arriving in Cape Town was like arriving in another country- we were most definitely still in Africa, but the amount of wealth around us in the city center and the number of whites that we began seeing increased dramatically. Cape Town has a different feel that Soweto, obviously- but I’m not sure yet if I like it quite as much as Soweto or not. I feel much more guarded than I did in Soweto, where by the end of our stay I felt quite comfortable talking to anyone that greeted me on the street. It seems to be an issue of a genuine welcome versus a deceptive façade- the many hellos and handshakes of the Zulu versus the whistling and obnoxious honking of taxis zooming by in Cape Town.

One of the discussions we’ve held here that I found very interesting was about how American youth do not feel passionately about causes- that we lack a direction of sorts in the way in which we show our support for the greater good. I found this very interesting, and embodied just hours later while waiting for the bus with the group. Our bus to Forest Hill was late, but not necessarily by an extensive amount- we waited perhaps 20 minutes. As we were waiting and the frustration level on the platform grew, a young African man next to us started raving to his friend. I’m assuming that the man was not a student at UCT, but at a different university. He stated something along the lines of, “Yeah, well [they’re late because] you guys have never protested! Throw rocks at the buses, then they will be on time!” This amazed me. In the States, CU students complain about the buff bus ALL the time, including myself, but I would never consider doing more than writing an angry but polite letter to Transportation Services. I think our generation has, to some extent, “missed out” on learning how to hold demonstrations like this- We did not see the civil rights movement, or anti-Vietnam war protests, or any major national movement for change that we could model local campaigns off of. South African society is one of social justice and change coming from the people- and it’s an attitude that’s evident even in the injustice of a bus being a few minutes late. I’m going to have to consider that next time I see CU students waiting for the buff bus with headphones in, probably sending a text of complaint about the service to a friend.

Shifting gears a bit, I also wanted to tackle our discussion about forgiveness. So far in the trip, this discussion was the one that was most challenging for me in terms of understanding the behavior of the black community in South Africa post-Apartheid, and covered something that I had been marveling over the entire time in Soweto: Why did these people seem so happy and accepting of white South Africans? Why had they, from my perspective, forgiven so easily? We discussed the way Africans have forgiven, but not forgotten- an oxymoron, but one that is actually successful as far as I can see. The huge number of museums and memorials, just in the Johannesburg area and particularly in Soweto, are all well created, designed with significance, and ensure that the lives of the people who fought for freedom and suffered for it are not forgotten. AK mentioned that its partially a cultural method of thinking that contrasts with our capitalist and individualistic mindset- which is an explanation that I appreciate hearing because the reasons I would have for South Africans not offering forth forgiveness are all reasons that involve me and my personal feelings about an issue, not to the greater good of the community. It’s hard for me to understand individual sacrifice for the greater good when it is challenging to see the differences that that sacrifice has made. The black South Africans probably won’t see the real impact of their actions for a long time yet to come, but it will be interesting to see how the efforts put into dealing with Apartheid by many members of society will affect the country down the road- in 20, 50, or 100 years. It emphasizes for me the importance of also considering the long term benefits and effects of forgiveness, and how its effects or lack thereof, will change the way that I view the world or live my life down the road. Before doing so, I will have to transcend the negative feelings associated with past wrongs, which in our culture do not often get addressed.

Touring Constitutional Court

Today was an interesting day- when we first left for our first venture into Johannesburg to tour the Constitutional Court, I was expecting something very different from what we experienced. I was anticipating the hustle and bustle that is usually seen in American government buildings, with something constantly going on and many people purposefully headed somewhere. The prison was not something I had connected with the Court, although it probably should have rung a bell from reading the Mandela autobiography.

Jail tours, no matter how well-created they are (and this one was the best I’ve ever been on) can never completely convey to a visitor the horrendous feeling of being locked away with your thoughts and under oppressive, abusive rule, but this one seemed to rise above this fact by using prisoner’s direct accounts of what happened to describe the situation.

I am always awestruck at the way that people persevere through inequality and horrendous conditions- the tour of the prison could perhaps be compared to my tour of Dachau, a former prison camp in Germany.

As we ended our prison half of the tour and continued into the constitutional court, the guide mentioned at every turn the ways in which the prison’s building materials, as well as themes of unity had been incorporated into literally every aspect of the new building. Bricks from the old prison were used in the courtroom, and everything was symbolic, down to the lack of mortar between the bricks representing the passing of freedom easily into the lives of the people.

After lunch, when we got to go the University of Witwaterswand, it felt like we had walked through a time warp back to the states. The number of white people we were seeing increased drastically, and the quality of the buildings, sidewalks, even gardens were far more reminiscent of a European campus than what I expected of Johannesburg. The ethnic groupings seemed to be in mixed groups of friends amidst all non-whites, but white students appeared isolated in their own social pockets. It amazes me how the more I learn about Apartheid, the more integrated and successful the United States seems to be at combating racism, although it is still evident.

Walking to the shop with Zama on the first day, I was told about how romantic relationships between white and black Africans are developing and changing, and other examples of how racism was still apparent in his every day life. I was slightly taken aback- I hadn’t expected the stories and effects of Apartheid to come forth so readily, but it is truly a part of how the country is operating and trying to advance itself today. Zama told me stories of Afrikaners at his University were about to be expelled for racist actions, but were allowed to graduate and stay at the school because black Africans deemed the punishment too harsh. Zama reasoned, “That is their future, and we do not want to take away their future.” I am struck time and time again by the ways in which bit by bit, people are moving closer towards equality and respect, even in small ways like Zama’s story. In every Apartheid tale we hear, there seems to be a desire to move forward as a united country, versus a bitterness that I would expect, at least on a personal level. It is extremely challenging to forgive grievances as horrendous as those from Apartheid, and I think that this alone demands a level of respect from the international community. I am appalled by the actions of these people, and it almost feels embarrassing to me as well to possibly be associated with this kind of behavior because of my skin color.

I like how straightforward the Africans seem to be in dealing with the problems that their country faces. Racism and Apartheid’s effects are discussed openly with the intent of reaching an understanding of the situations at hand, as well as how to improve them. We passed a PSA billboard today that read “If you see a water main break, report it. Don’t waste fresh water.” Messages are conveyed simply, honestly, and accurately- and always attempt to identify the problem and fix it. I get the impression that there are few problems you can bring to the table without getting the help of the people around you in fixing it or finding a solution.

I have been struck here thus far by an endless and enduring positive attitude of the residents of Soweto. As we were on our way to the museum this morning, Chris commented on the seeming impossibility of Johannesburg finishing all the construction and road work that was slowing us on our way before the World Cup began. Chris said, “How are they going to finish all of this? There’s only twenty days or something until the World Cup, right? Our driver Patrick, a native of Soweto, simply smiled and replied, “Yes, but a lot can happen in 20 days.” I’m looking forward to the rest of our stay in comfortable and homey Soweto, and to more of the smiling faces and enthusiasm that greet us each day we are here.

Arriving in Africa

The first glance I got of Africa was a vast, dry, barren land, out the window of a plane, 12/15 hours through a sleepy, disorienting flight spanning two states and the Atlantic Ocean. It felt foreign, and new, and strange, and completely different. It was a blank slate- like a picture of the world at night, in which Africa is usually engulfed in darkness as the rest of the world burns the midnight oil, my mental picture of Africa as a continent, or South Africa as a country didn’t exist.
The passengers around me were unimpressed and continued to be buried in their books, and shows, and meals, and sleeping. I always feel like a child in planes, mostly because it’s a bit of a lonely environment.
Getting off the plane in Johannesburg, I was struck by the sheer delight of A) Getting to stretch my legs and B) Absorbing the first few glimpses of a country I knew nothing of. World Cup fever was evident from the moment we disembarked the plane, and as we walked out of the airport our first taste of this inexplicable African friendliness was exemplified in an invitation from a security officer to take a few shots on a sample soccer goal set up as an ad for Kinder chocolate.
I was struck by my lack of recognition when scanning the arrivals board at baggage claim- I only recognized the names of a few cities on the list! It was very humbling to realize I was truly in a new environment, one which I had no idea was going to embrace me so quickly.
Meeting up with Alphonse and Issac, our driver, was nice- it was good to head back to the hostel. As we walked in the direction of the car, I asked Issac- “Are you from Soweto?” Issac, ever the accommodating and friendly guy I now (sort of!) know him to be, said with a smile, “Yes, born and raised.” I smiled and conveyed my interest, but was silent the rest of the walk- in this situation, with a man whose life had been so extremely different form anything I had ever known, I didn’t even know what to say or ask about on our two minute walk to the car. Again, a humbling experience.
I’m curious, excited, nervous, intrigued, anxious- so many things- to begin class and getting to know the people here. Everyone seems so friendly and welcoming, and the traces of Apartheid I expected to be evident instantly were not. Looking back, this probably should have been obvious- the signs, restricted areas, and lack of any meaningful inter-racial interaction have long since been taken down and overcome, at least in some respects. Similar to a path grown over with weeds, Modern South African society has begun to grow, heal and forgive for the horrendous situation of the Apartheid era, although its effects still show through when you least expect it.