A taste of Cape Town

May 18, 2012 

We are slowly beginning to adjust to our lives in South Africa. Yesterday we spent most of the day recovering from jet lag, and received our first introduction to the local community at the Ascension Day service at Ocean View Methodist and an Ubuntu soccer practice. Ubuntu is Casey’s main ministry here—he coaches a group of middle school-aged boys from the local communities. We also went grocery shopping (the only grocery store is in a mall, but it’s not exactly like the malls here—there are all kinds of stores, not just clothes and accessories) and made our first meal (spaghetti.)

Then today we journeyed to Cape Town for a historical introduction to the history and culture of the area. As the first participants of Sarah’s new volunteer program, Look Listen Love, “Look” is the first step to our stay here—we are observing our surroundings, the people and the culture before we begin service aspect.

A native of Ocean View, Chantél, led our tour. She was incredible— the tour was more like a local friend showing us around the city than a tour guide. In addition to a personal perspective on how historical events affected her coloured family, she wanted us to experience the culture from a local’s perspective.

Us with our amazing tour guide, Chantél (third from right) in Cape Town

That meant the first part of our tour was a ride in an Ocean View taxi. As we climbed into a manual van with 10 other locals, we quickly discovered that taxis in the townships aren’t like taxis anywhere else. The pavement passed beneath our feet through holes in the well-worn mats and bumper stickers on the inside said “I’m not late—you’re early.”

We reached the train station in Fish Hoek to catch 45-minute train to Cape Town. Chantél explained that during apartheid, only whites were allowed to sit in first class, coloureds and Indians in second, blacks in third. For most of the ride we sat beside a woman with a baby strapped to her back and a young boy with big brown eyes. She spoke to the attendants in Xhosa—the language that most of the black townships use (the one that uses clicks.)

Me and Alison on the train

When we reached Cape Town our tour began at the Grand Parade, the square where Nelson Mandela spoke when he first got out of prison.

The Grande Parade

Chantél led us where the history of Cape Town began—the Dutch colonization. We went to the castle, where Dutch began to rule in the 1600s. The highlights were a torture chamber, prison and a horse in the courtyard.

At the castle

Traveling through history, we then went to the slave cabin. The Dutch didn’t want to enslave the natives because they needed them to trade, so instead they imported slaves from across the world, including India, Bali and other parts of Africa. The huge diversity and mixture of culture is what eventually led to the coloured race today. This building is where the slaves were brought when they arrived in Cape Town. Only about 20 percent of slaves survived the “middle passage” voyage, which was similar to what slaves took to reach the United States. Once they arrived in Cape Town they were kept in a small room with no windows to the outside world, they were forbade to wearing shoes and they were allotted one new outfit per year.

The museum focused on transforming the tragic place into a place of human rights, “human wrongs to human rights.” We remarked on how there was a church within the slave lodge…

We stopped for lunch at the Eastern Bazarre, a local spot that serves a mix of cultural foods cooked the food in front of us, I split a Rooti and French fries (called “chips” here) with Chantél. Leaving food on our plates bothered Chantél, so she packed our extra chips in a box and gave them to a homeless person on the street.

On our way to the next museum, we saw the church where Desmond Tutu spoke.

Alison and me in front of Desmond Tutu’s church

Slavery in South Africa ended in 1833, and by the 1960s most people lived with one another in peace, regardless of race. But then apartheid hit. We went to the District 6 museum, which commemorated part of the city that was uprooted during apartheid. It showed pictures of the races coexisting in the district before apartheid, and had artifacts from a beauty salon and a barbershop. Then it showed the damage of apartheid—the people who found a pink slip on their door giving them three days notice to move out of their homes just because of the color of their skin. We saw photos of the bulldozers and the empty lots where the houses once stood. Most of the houses weren’t even built up again.

Part of the museum exhibit

Chantél told us how her family was affected by apartheid. Her grandfather refused to move when the bulldozers first threatened his home—he said “we will eat our dinner first.” Her aunt was married to a white man at the time, was incarcerated many times because they refused to divorce. Eventually, Chantél said, her husband couldn’t stand it anymore, he left her with five children and she lost her mind. In the case of mixed race marriage children that could pass as white could stay with the white family member, if they looked black or coloured they had to stay with the other. They measured race by by putting a pencil in your hair—if it stuck, you were black or coloured; if it fell, you were white.

Chantél also told us about how the hard circumstances melted into their culture. Even though she’s only 27 years old, she grew up thinking that lighter skin signified beauty and dark skin and curly hair represented ugly. She was surprised when a French friend liked her curly hair; before that no one had ever called her beautiful.

After the tour we walked to the waterfront to catch a taxi to Hillsong, the church where we were meeting the youth group from Ocean View. The beauty of the city, buildings against the mountains, astounded me.

Cape Town

But perhaps the most exciting part was talking to Chantél about her connections. She said she can hook me up with a local newspaper so I’ll be able to publish some articles during my time here. In return, I might help her with her company website.

We reached the other side of town early, so we went to an REI-style store so some of the girls could buy warmer clothes. It’s winter here in South Africa, and although the first day was beautiful, since then it’s been cold, cold, cold.

Pretty clouds outside the mall

We went to one of the nicest malls in South Africa. The inside seriously reminded me of Las Vegas. Outside were fountains and a walkway lined with flowers. Again I was amazed how such wealthy communities can live beside such incredible poverty.

Las Vegas-style mall

We went to the youth group at Hillsong, then rode back with a “taxi” full of Ocean View teenage girls. They sang (or more like shouted) the entire 45-minute trip back up the mountain.

Altogether exhausting day, but I loved learning more about the culture of the region. Can’t wait to start working later this week!

--Mary Withers