Yesterday, we went to a township called Bonteheuvel outside of Cape Town. Before I talk about the actual visit, I want to explain what the townships are and how they developed.
When the apartheid regime came into power in the late 1940s, the nation was full of different races, namely the blacks of the nine main African tribes, the Afrikaans and English-speaking whites who were descended from the colonizers of earlier days, the Indians, the Malays and the mixed race of people who are descended from some or all of these groups.
These races had lived mostly in harmony until the apartheid regime happened. As such, Cape Town were a diverse mix of people. The apartheid regime began an aggressive campaign of forcibly removing the blacks and the "coloureds" (everyone who was not wholly white or black) from Cape Town and pushing them out into the Cape Flats, an inhospitable and largely unsettled area outside of the cities. The blacks and coloureds were essentially put into concentration camps which developed into the townships. These areas had lower quality education than that of the cities and had no recreational facilities for youth. They were breeding grounds for gangs, which thrived then and now in these areas. Violence and drug addiction skyrocketed. Those in the townships had little hope for a better future, given that achievement past a certain level was forbidden by the state. They had been torn from their homes and their neighborhoods (people who had lived in a certain district of Cape Town would be relocated in different townships) and were suddenly treated as non-citizens of their own countries.
Now that apartheid is over, as of 1994, people can move around as they please. But the gang culture and everything that accompanies it (violence, drugs, black market arms, prostitution) is embedded in the townships. Families were fractured and torn apart all those years ago, and the voids have never been filled for the younger generations. Economic equality is slowly, slowly coming about, but for the people in these areas, higher education and good jobs might as well be on the moon for all the access they have to them. (The Black Economic Empowerment is in place, but that still has a ways to go and leaves out a lot of mixed race people.)
This is where Bonteheuvel, a largely coloured settlement, comes in. We went yesterday and met Omar, who was placed in the township in the 1960s. He told us about the development of gang culture and also the struggle for freedom from apartheid. A lot of the young men who were involved in the liberation struggle in the 1970s and 1980s were in and out of jail and fell into drugs to deal with their lives. A woman who has lost three children to gang violence in Bonteheuvel told us: "You must stay together. You cannot give in to despair, or you are dead."
We went into the library, which is quite nice and has a lot of programs to help kids learn and keep them busy, and to one of the preschools, where we met one of the most passionate men I've ever encountered in my life. His name is Mike, and he prepares kids for kindergarten. He loved those little kids so much, and they listened to every word he said. He told us,"This is where my heart is. And every year, we have a little graduation...and I cry at every bloody one! You take care of these kids, some from 3 months old, and then you have to let them go. I can't let go." He had them sing the South African national anthem for us (it's in 5 different languages) and it was the most adorable things ever (these kids are like four). This man makes very little money and works in a gang-infested area for love of these little children, who he believes are the country's future. It's a beautiful thing. Mike may just be a drop in the ocean, but he's doing a lot of good.
We then went to Mamelani, a program for young men who have been on the street, that teaches them skills so that they can get jobs and tries to help them stay off of drugs. We talked to the guys about what they want to do in five years, and they all said something that related to preventing others from experiencing what they had in their childhoods.
"I want to be a father," one said. "I want to be one of those parents who has a permanent job and who is there for his kid. I want to be a dad."
I think that speaks for itself.
Today, we spent the morning at Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years. Many other political prisoners were kept there during the apartheid years. I'd talk more about prison conditions if this post wasn't so long already. But what struck me was the fact that ex-prisoners showed us around the prison--many have moved back to Robben Island (which is no longer a prison) in order to preserve the memory of where South Africa has been. And they say they are now friends with the guards that beat them and locked them up--they have forgiven them. It was a theme of the place, and it's a theme of the country. The oppressed have forgiven the oppressors. Have they really? But the fact that they are at least trying says a lot.
On a less serious note, we spent the rest of the day in the Winelands, essentially the Napa Valley of South Africa. Northwestern arranged for us to go do wine tastings at two different vineyards. I have no idea why, but they did. It was fun, but I HATE wine. Especially red wine. It was a weird day today--serious history and heavy drinking. Apologies for the long post!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Cape Town: Lynnesanity
We have arrived in Cape Town and it is officially AWESOME. Joburg kids are jealous. It's beautiful here AND we are on Long Street, which is basically Cape Town Party Central. (Not that anyone's been taking advantage of that or anything. Nope. For the record, I MYSELF actually haven't.)
We are actually staying in a hotel called Daddy Long Legs--a lot of people thought I was kidding. I'm not. We're staying in apartments rather than hotel rooms, and they're nicer than my apartment at school. Actually, about as nice as my house back in Cincinnati. I'm rooming with the lovely Nina Leff, and our other three Cape Town interns are across the hall in a separate apartment (Abby, Zach, and Lauren).
Today we went to Parliament and listened in on a public hearing about the Protection of State Information Bill, which most people are calling the Secrecy Bill. This bill is making serious waves and is relevant to us since we're media interns. Essentially, in its present form, the bill would allow the government to come down hard on journalists who publish state information--this includes confidential information and other information that the state defines as information that should not be released to the public. There is no public interest defense in the bill (i.e. information that is relevant to the public interest, like details on the Watergate scandal, can be published even if they are damaging to the state) or any mention of public domain (information that is already public should be protected). The bill is sweeping and gives the government a lot of punitive power and, as it stands, encourages journalists not to pursue potentially important stories that are damaging to the government in any way. Many want the bill to be revised and are waging war in the media and in hearings like the one we were at today. I can't see how it will pass without some revisions--it's far too severe as it is.
On a brighter note, I got to go to the Cape Times today! I didn't think I would get to go before I started my internship. I met my boss, and he was basically like, "Hi. When you get here, you're going to start writing immediately. OK bye." So I may not even get a shadowing period. We'll see how that goes. The office seems nice and the people seem friendly though, and it's within walking distance from the apartment.
Scenery-wise, Table Mountain bathes Cape Town in its shadow, hanging over it like a protector. Here's a picture: http://www.sa-venues.com/gallery/table-mountain-17.jpg
It's beautiful. Every time I look up, I see it. I've never lived in a city so closely bordered by a mountain, so I keep thinking that it's storm clouds and then I'm all, "OH MY GOD THAT'S A MOUNTAIN." There are so many tourist things I want to do here--go to the top of Table Mountain, go on the Garden Route, visit Cape Point...so little time!
Sorry about the Lynne-centric post. I'm just really excited about Cape Town.
We are actually staying in a hotel called Daddy Long Legs--a lot of people thought I was kidding. I'm not. We're staying in apartments rather than hotel rooms, and they're nicer than my apartment at school. Actually, about as nice as my house back in Cincinnati. I'm rooming with the lovely Nina Leff, and our other three Cape Town interns are across the hall in a separate apartment (Abby, Zach, and Lauren).
Today we went to Parliament and listened in on a public hearing about the Protection of State Information Bill, which most people are calling the Secrecy Bill. This bill is making serious waves and is relevant to us since we're media interns. Essentially, in its present form, the bill would allow the government to come down hard on journalists who publish state information--this includes confidential information and other information that the state defines as information that should not be released to the public. There is no public interest defense in the bill (i.e. information that is relevant to the public interest, like details on the Watergate scandal, can be published even if they are damaging to the state) or any mention of public domain (information that is already public should be protected). The bill is sweeping and gives the government a lot of punitive power and, as it stands, encourages journalists not to pursue potentially important stories that are damaging to the government in any way. Many want the bill to be revised and are waging war in the media and in hearings like the one we were at today. I can't see how it will pass without some revisions--it's far too severe as it is.
On a brighter note, I got to go to the Cape Times today! I didn't think I would get to go before I started my internship. I met my boss, and he was basically like, "Hi. When you get here, you're going to start writing immediately. OK bye." So I may not even get a shadowing period. We'll see how that goes. The office seems nice and the people seem friendly though, and it's within walking distance from the apartment.
Scenery-wise, Table Mountain bathes Cape Town in its shadow, hanging over it like a protector. Here's a picture: http://www.sa-venues.com/gallery/table-mountain-17.jpg
It's beautiful. Every time I look up, I see it. I've never lived in a city so closely bordered by a mountain, so I keep thinking that it's storm clouds and then I'm all, "OH MY GOD THAT'S A MOUNTAIN." There are so many tourist things I want to do here--go to the top of Table Mountain, go on the Garden Route, visit Cape Point...so little time!
Sorry about the Lynne-centric post. I'm just really excited about Cape Town.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Johannesburg/Pretoria: Blood of Our Ancestors
We spent the day today in Johannesburg and Pretoria--Pretoria is South Africa's administrative capital and is about an hour from Joburg. Mostly we've been visiting the various news operations that we've are going to be working at (we're scattered among The Star, the Cape Times, the Cape Argus, e-News in Joburg and e-News in Cape Town, Business Day, and the Times). Unfortunately, the Cape Town people are getting SHAFTED on this. The Cape Times people and the e-News people will not get to go to their newsrooms before starting work, which sucks because we've had no contact with our supervisors and so far, the staff we've been introduced to at other sites seemed unaware that they were getting interns in the first place. (This program is almost 10 years old and has been using many of the same sites during that time). I'm worried I'll show up to work on Monday and they'll be like, "Who are you?"
In the afternoon today, though, we visited Freedom Park in Pretoria, which was beautiful and really interesting. There are stone walls stacked at least 20 feet high that are being covered with the names of those who have died in various South African conflicts--the recent struggle for liberation from apartheid, ethnic conflicts, and colonial wars. We went to a shrine in the middle of the park that is for the ancestors. South Africans used to believe (and some still believe) in the power of their ancestors. Not their biological ancestors, but their elders in general. It is believed that when a person dies, their spirit goes into a boulder, and they are available for advice to those who perform the proper rites.
The shrine was basically a circle of these boulders that hold the spirits of the ancestors. We took off our shoes before entering and had a moment of silence at the shrine for the ancestors and everyone who has died in centuries of South African conflict. Then we washed our hands in a stone bowl before leaving, to symbolize cleansing. I think it was important for us to do while we are here.
Tomorrow we fly to Cape Town! Then I can settle in where I'm staying, a place called Daddy Long Legs. I'm really excited.
In the afternoon today, though, we visited Freedom Park in Pretoria, which was beautiful and really interesting. There are stone walls stacked at least 20 feet high that are being covered with the names of those who have died in various South African conflicts--the recent struggle for liberation from apartheid, ethnic conflicts, and colonial wars. We went to a shrine in the middle of the park that is for the ancestors. South Africans used to believe (and some still believe) in the power of their ancestors. Not their biological ancestors, but their elders in general. It is believed that when a person dies, their spirit goes into a boulder, and they are available for advice to those who perform the proper rites.
The shrine was basically a circle of these boulders that hold the spirits of the ancestors. We took off our shoes before entering and had a moment of silence at the shrine for the ancestors and everyone who has died in centuries of South African conflict. Then we washed our hands in a stone bowl before leaving, to symbolize cleansing. I think it was important for us to do while we are here.
Tomorrow we fly to Cape Town! Then I can settle in where I'm staying, a place called Daddy Long Legs. I'm really excited.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Johannesburg: (At Mandela's) Home Alone
I'm here! The flights were actually pretty uneventful;
just long. I'm in Joburg until Wednesday for part of
orientation, then all of the Northwestern interns fly
to Cape Town. The 8 who are working in Johannesburg
will fly back here on Sunday and we all start work
next Monday (April 2). There will be five of us in Cape Town.
Today we spent the day touring Joburg with a tour guide
named Elvis. We saw Soweto, the southwestern township
that was crucial to the liberation struggle back in the late 1980s
and early 1990s.
We also visited Nelson Mandela's old house, which is now
a museum. He moved into it in 1946 with his first wife,
Evelyn, and lived there with his second wife Winnie
until he was arrested in the 1960s for leading the
struggle against apartheid. Members of the Mandela
family lived there for a total of 40 years.
This is a great piece of history, but this part of
the tour led to one of the more dangerous situations I've
been in. After the tour was mostly done, I went to the
bathroom. When I came out, everyone was gone. I left the
premises to see if they were out front or waiting in the
van, and they were not. I fought with the staff to let
me back into the Mandela house to make sure they weren't
on the back patio or something--I got in after a few
minutes, and I came to the conclusion that I had
definitely been left behind. I had no idea where they
had gone, since Elvis pretty much brought us where he
thought we should go without an itinerary.
This may seem bad enough on its own, but it gets worse.
Paula Fray, our main keeper, had not yet given us our
phones (she probably thought that no one could get into
trouble in the first 24 hours, but I guess she didn't
realize that I was on the trip). I was stuck in a
foreign country, alone, with no phone or money. Even if
I had had money, I'm still not all that clear on how
SA's public transportation works. So I was like, "FUCK."
I told the man who had let me back into the house that
my people were gone, and he proposed we go up the street
to see if they were at another museum close by. I
figured I had two options: one, wait at the house until
my fellow students realized I was missing, or two, see
if I could find them. Well, technically three options, the third being get kidnapped and never leave South Africa.
I decided to go up to the other
museum and see if they were there. We went, and the
people at the desk told us they hadn't come in. The
guy from the Mandela house wanted to check around back
to see if the van was parked there, but I refused and
told him I was going back to the Mandela house to wait.
He walked me back and reassured me that we would find
them (I'm pretty sure he was a well-intentioned guy who
actually intended to help me find the others). When we
had almost reached the house, Rocean, one of the other
interns, darted out of a van parked across the street
and flagged me down (all vans are white and look pretty
similar). Abby, who's going to be working with me at the
Cape Times, also came out and they asked me where I'd
gone.
"Where did YOU go?! You guys left me!"
We climbed back into the van and I told the other
interns what happened. They were appalled and sorry
about leaving me. They had walked up to another place
for a few minutes and hadn't realized that I wasn't
with them until they had come back and gotten in the
van.
"We had a collective heart attack," Zach told me at
dinner. "And you seemed pretty mad when we found you,
but you were pretty composed. A lot of people would have
been in hysterics."
After that incident, we went to the Apartheid Museum, which was
quite well organized and put together. I'll talk more about
apartheid later--I'm pretty tired. But it's still very
important for a lot of reasons, and I'll definitely get to it.
Finally, we went to dinner at Paula Fray's house.It was
really delicious--I had traditional South African
sausage, which is made up of lamb, beef, and pork. We
met Paula's husband, sons, and dogs (one of them is
named Batman, and that dog has mad skills). We got our
phones and headed back to the guest house we're in.
So all in all, a crazy day. I've already gotten into
trouble and it only took 18 hours. I continue to break
my own records.
just long. I'm in Joburg until Wednesday for part of
orientation, then all of the Northwestern interns fly
to Cape Town. The 8 who are working in Johannesburg
will fly back here on Sunday and we all start work
next Monday (April 2). There will be five of us in Cape Town.
Today we spent the day touring Joburg with a tour guide
named Elvis. We saw Soweto, the southwestern township
that was crucial to the liberation struggle back in the late 1980s
and early 1990s.
We also visited Nelson Mandela's old house, which is now
a museum. He moved into it in 1946 with his first wife,
Evelyn, and lived there with his second wife Winnie
until he was arrested in the 1960s for leading the
struggle against apartheid. Members of the Mandela
family lived there for a total of 40 years.
This is a great piece of history, but this part of
the tour led to one of the more dangerous situations I've
been in. After the tour was mostly done, I went to the
bathroom. When I came out, everyone was gone. I left the
premises to see if they were out front or waiting in the
van, and they were not. I fought with the staff to let
me back into the Mandela house to make sure they weren't
on the back patio or something--I got in after a few
minutes, and I came to the conclusion that I had
definitely been left behind. I had no idea where they
had gone, since Elvis pretty much brought us where he
thought we should go without an itinerary.
This may seem bad enough on its own, but it gets worse.
Paula Fray, our main keeper, had not yet given us our
phones (she probably thought that no one could get into
trouble in the first 24 hours, but I guess she didn't
realize that I was on the trip). I was stuck in a
foreign country, alone, with no phone or money. Even if
I had had money, I'm still not all that clear on how
SA's public transportation works. So I was like, "FUCK."
I told the man who had let me back into the house that
my people were gone, and he proposed we go up the street
to see if they were at another museum close by. I
figured I had two options: one, wait at the house until
my fellow students realized I was missing, or two, see
if I could find them. Well, technically three options, the third being get kidnapped and never leave South Africa.
I decided to go up to the other
museum and see if they were there. We went, and the
people at the desk told us they hadn't come in. The
guy from the Mandela house wanted to check around back
to see if the van was parked there, but I refused and
told him I was going back to the Mandela house to wait.
He walked me back and reassured me that we would find
them (I'm pretty sure he was a well-intentioned guy who
actually intended to help me find the others). When we
had almost reached the house, Rocean, one of the other
interns, darted out of a van parked across the street
and flagged me down (all vans are white and look pretty
similar). Abby, who's going to be working with me at the
Cape Times, also came out and they asked me where I'd
gone.
"Where did YOU go?! You guys left me!"
We climbed back into the van and I told the other
interns what happened. They were appalled and sorry
about leaving me. They had walked up to another place
for a few minutes and hadn't realized that I wasn't
with them until they had come back and gotten in the
van.
"We had a collective heart attack," Zach told me at
dinner. "And you seemed pretty mad when we found you,
but you were pretty composed. A lot of people would have
been in hysterics."
After that incident, we went to the Apartheid Museum, which was
quite well organized and put together. I'll talk more about
apartheid later--I'm pretty tired. But it's still very
important for a lot of reasons, and I'll definitely get to it.
Finally, we went to dinner at Paula Fray's house.It was
really delicious--I had traditional South African
sausage, which is made up of lamb, beef, and pork. We
met Paula's husband, sons, and dogs (one of them is
named Batman, and that dog has mad skills). We got our
phones and headed back to the guest house we're in.
So all in all, a crazy day. I've already gotten into
trouble and it only took 18 hours. I continue to break
my own records.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Cincinnati: Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends
Hey everybody! If you're new to this blog, it's essentially a chronicle of my ridiculous adventures in foreign countries--the posts that precede this one are from my Uganda trip. I lived in a Ugandan village called Kakira for two months and worked at an NGO that cared for patients with malaria and HIV/AIDS and vaccinated young children against various diseases.
Now I'm off to South Africa for 10 weeks to work at a newspaper in Cape Town--the Cape Times. I am actually a journalism major, so this is an area I have experience in already. Whether I'm going to be any good at this job remains to be seen, however.
I'm leaving on a plane tomorrow afternoon--first from Cincinnati to Detroit, then Detroit to Amsterdam, then Amsterdam to Johannesburg. It'll be long, but hopefully everything will go smoothly (I'm flying KLM again, and for those of you who remember the Uganda Odyssey, you'll understand that I'm a bit nervous). Speaking of those who remember my former adventures, I want to thank everyone who kept up with me while I was abroad last summer. From those who actively commented on my posts to those who kept me in their thoughts during the tough times, I am incredibly grateful and surprised that you found my blog worth it. I hope I can continue to deliver.
My next post will probably happen when I get to Joburg, unless I'm stuck in Amsterdam for a while. I should probably go finish packing...or I could just play video games. Tough choice.
Now I'm off to South Africa for 10 weeks to work at a newspaper in Cape Town--the Cape Times. I am actually a journalism major, so this is an area I have experience in already. Whether I'm going to be any good at this job remains to be seen, however.
I'm leaving on a plane tomorrow afternoon--first from Cincinnati to Detroit, then Detroit to Amsterdam, then Amsterdam to Johannesburg. It'll be long, but hopefully everything will go smoothly (I'm flying KLM again, and for those of you who remember the Uganda Odyssey, you'll understand that I'm a bit nervous). Speaking of those who remember my former adventures, I want to thank everyone who kept up with me while I was abroad last summer. From those who actively commented on my posts to those who kept me in their thoughts during the tough times, I am incredibly grateful and surprised that you found my blog worth it. I hope I can continue to deliver.
My next post will probably happen when I get to Joburg, unless I'm stuck in Amsterdam for a while. I should probably go finish packing...or I could just play video games. Tough choice.
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