The
hop-on-hop-off buses are not only good for getting a sense of
orientation. They also offered the opportunity to go on a township
tour in Imizamo Yethu which I did alongside a group of three scared
German men. Whenever one of them dropped 3 feet behind the guide the
others would nervously call his name so that he could rejoin the
group. I could honestly not see why. The only thing that hurled
itself at us was
a group of three four year old kids which suddenly came flying out of nowhere to hug. They didn't beg or even make big eyes and look sad, they just hugged each other and us and told the guys to take pictures of them. They laughed and hugged each other so hard that they toppled over and even on the ground they were squealing of joy and wanting us to take pictures. Honest to God there wasn't one scary moment on the entire walking tour. The first thing we learnt was that Molo means hello in Xhosa! As we started we were brought to a table where a 23 year old woman with earrings painted with the South African flag presented a few hand made things. The guide said that we should feel free to buy whatever we wanted but that this was a walking and not a shopping tour. I'm usually not really into souvenirs but I did find a few things which I would have bought if I would have had enough money with me but I didn't since it had been a spontaneous decision to do this tour today. One of the things that really took me by surprise was that they have recycling facilities in the township. The government also pays workers to collect rubbish three times a week so it's way cleaner than I might have imagined. And that was the only place where there was bad air, right next to the garbage disposal. Everywhere else there was just fresh air or the scent of fire or grilled meat. The only disturbing thing I saw was a woman who sold chickens which were squished in a box where they couldn't move and we weren't sure if they were alive or not until the woman pulled one out. The shacks are small and the lack of water, heating and electricity must make life quite tough especially in winter (it can be surprisingly cold here, even now). However not all shacks are like that. There is quite a lot of variety. Some folks have perfectly good cars parked in front of their shack. Others have a TV and in the shebeen, the bars of the townships there's even a pool table. The walls of this one shack we went into were plastered with pictures of volunteers who had helped an Irish initiative build brick houses instead of shacks. Up to now they have constructed 500 such houses and their goal is to make the township, where 30'000 inhabitants live disappear permanently. A gush of wind lifts a piece of cloth from a leather comforter and exposes the ripped leather below. I put it back because it seems important that the things they have look as nice as possible. On a table I spot some Aromat, which is the favourite seasoning of Switzerland, although not mine personally. I'm still amused that it made its way here. The walls which had no photographs were covered in inspirational quotes which are in English. I'm not entirely sure if the person who inhibits the shack understands them but they add to the impression I've been having all along: that these are people who are forward looking, who believe in the future and see that although the government cannot support everything, for example kindergartens, they are not forgotten and things are improving. To finance vital institutions such as the kindergarten those who earn money give 10% away so that they can be maintained. The school kids walk in a way which suggests pride in wearing their school uniforms. They don't beg they study that's what some of the older kids gazes seem to communicate as they look at us. From somewhere inside the tunes from the Buena Vista Social Club are carried to the streets. We are then showed the outside of the public library. The government supplies the books and a lot of kids come here to read after school. The next surprise was that there are also Chinese immigrants who live in the township though what wasn't surprising was that their shop was the one which had the most stuff to sell. The last stop on our tour was the church which we entered by walking up the mosaic stairs past a pillar with a mosaic portrait of Mandela which they call our father. Inside I met a township artist called Moyo and again I liked his stuff but hadn't brought sufficient cash and plastic money would obviously not get me anywhere. When it was over I was kind of sad. I would have loved to have had a bite to eat and chat. The Germans on the other hand were glad. One told the other how he had thought at the beginning of the tour that they would take us somewhere and we wouldn't get out anymore. I'm just glad my gut didn't make its judgements based on the horror stories but on what was going on beside us. The majority of the people did either smile or just went about their business, there was not one moment when I detected antagonism. The reason might be that despite the horrifying past the majority of the township inhabitants are very young and did not experience apartheid themselves. And the older generation seems to take Mandela seriously enough to at least attempt not to continue with the hate that dominated those dark years. Check out www.we-are-africa.com to read what they say themselves.
a group of three four year old kids which suddenly came flying out of nowhere to hug. They didn't beg or even make big eyes and look sad, they just hugged each other and us and told the guys to take pictures of them. They laughed and hugged each other so hard that they toppled over and even on the ground they were squealing of joy and wanting us to take pictures. Honest to God there wasn't one scary moment on the entire walking tour. The first thing we learnt was that Molo means hello in Xhosa! As we started we were brought to a table where a 23 year old woman with earrings painted with the South African flag presented a few hand made things. The guide said that we should feel free to buy whatever we wanted but that this was a walking and not a shopping tour. I'm usually not really into souvenirs but I did find a few things which I would have bought if I would have had enough money with me but I didn't since it had been a spontaneous decision to do this tour today. One of the things that really took me by surprise was that they have recycling facilities in the township. The government also pays workers to collect rubbish three times a week so it's way cleaner than I might have imagined. And that was the only place where there was bad air, right next to the garbage disposal. Everywhere else there was just fresh air or the scent of fire or grilled meat. The only disturbing thing I saw was a woman who sold chickens which were squished in a box where they couldn't move and we weren't sure if they were alive or not until the woman pulled one out. The shacks are small and the lack of water, heating and electricity must make life quite tough especially in winter (it can be surprisingly cold here, even now). However not all shacks are like that. There is quite a lot of variety. Some folks have perfectly good cars parked in front of their shack. Others have a TV and in the shebeen, the bars of the townships there's even a pool table. The walls of this one shack we went into were plastered with pictures of volunteers who had helped an Irish initiative build brick houses instead of shacks. Up to now they have constructed 500 such houses and their goal is to make the township, where 30'000 inhabitants live disappear permanently. A gush of wind lifts a piece of cloth from a leather comforter and exposes the ripped leather below. I put it back because it seems important that the things they have look as nice as possible. On a table I spot some Aromat, which is the favourite seasoning of Switzerland, although not mine personally. I'm still amused that it made its way here. The walls which had no photographs were covered in inspirational quotes which are in English. I'm not entirely sure if the person who inhibits the shack understands them but they add to the impression I've been having all along: that these are people who are forward looking, who believe in the future and see that although the government cannot support everything, for example kindergartens, they are not forgotten and things are improving. To finance vital institutions such as the kindergarten those who earn money give 10% away so that they can be maintained. The school kids walk in a way which suggests pride in wearing their school uniforms. They don't beg they study that's what some of the older kids gazes seem to communicate as they look at us. From somewhere inside the tunes from the Buena Vista Social Club are carried to the streets. We are then showed the outside of the public library. The government supplies the books and a lot of kids come here to read after school. The next surprise was that there are also Chinese immigrants who live in the township though what wasn't surprising was that their shop was the one which had the most stuff to sell. The last stop on our tour was the church which we entered by walking up the mosaic stairs past a pillar with a mosaic portrait of Mandela which they call our father. Inside I met a township artist called Moyo and again I liked his stuff but hadn't brought sufficient cash and plastic money would obviously not get me anywhere. When it was over I was kind of sad. I would have loved to have had a bite to eat and chat. The Germans on the other hand were glad. One told the other how he had thought at the beginning of the tour that they would take us somewhere and we wouldn't get out anymore. I'm just glad my gut didn't make its judgements based on the horror stories but on what was going on beside us. The majority of the people did either smile or just went about their business, there was not one moment when I detected antagonism. The reason might be that despite the horrifying past the majority of the township inhabitants are very young and did not experience apartheid themselves. And the older generation seems to take Mandela seriously enough to at least attempt not to continue with the hate that dominated those dark years. Check out www.we-are-africa.com to read what they say themselves.
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