Today we took a tour of some of the townships; specifically Langa and Khayelitsha. I would have taken pictures, but firstly I have certain personal reservations about taking pictures of someone else's living arrangements, no matter how 'insightful' it is into their culture and secondly, I have yet to unpack my second memory card. I'm sure there are plenty of other photos of poor urban communities proliferating the internet for your viewing...awareness-enhancement. For now, the following blog entry shall have to suffice in all it's rather random musing.

Langa -- An Island of Broken Glass

The township of Langa was established in 1927; there's a long story behind it, but basically the government was having problems with where blacks and coloureds(yes, it is not un-PC to use that terminology here) were living beforehand and so forcibly resettled them. It's a common story repeated durin much of the twentieth century. "Langa" means "the Sun" in the Xhosa language. 90% of the township residents speak Xhosa. 52% of township residents are unemployed.

We visited the cultural center, which is a large cinderblock structure on the nicer side of town(ship). Just inside the entrance is a large courtyard tiled in beautiful glass and ceramic mosaics. The colors are blue and green, with enlivening splashes of red and yellow and orange directing the eye to the shape of the artwork. While at the cultural center we were able to see these young boys, "the gum boot dancers." Gum boot dancing evolved from the Johannesburg coal mines, where the many black workers used it as a way of amusing themselves. I never thought you could do those kinds of moves in rain boots! Also at the cultural center was a pottery studio. It was started as a way of employing some of the township residents--they paint ceramic plates, cups, and other pieces, and sell them. A lot of major companies have contracted with them for comemorative plates and other celebratory things. I love how art can be used in such a productive way--the true essence of art is function as well as beauty.

From the cultural center we took to the streets of the townships. Now, I'm a spacey sort of person, so in an unfamiliar environment I'll often look at the ground in front of me to try and make sure I don't trip. When I did that in Langa, I realized the sandy spots between the sidewalks and roads, and even the sidewalks themselves, were covered in bits of green glass from shattered beer bottles (I'm glad I was wearing shoes). It was an interesting contrast--the broken glass from the cultural center, reflecting aspirations of a better future, and the broken glass on the dirty sand, telling of the past and present poverty and despair and hopelessness.

We saw people roasting sheeps heads at the fire; butcher shops give them away for free. The flames help the fur to come off easier--then they fully butcher them and sell them. There is fierce competition in the sheeps-head selling business--who would have thought? Our guide, who lived in Langa for a time, said it actually had a certain taste about it. Hmmm... *pictures bringing a sheeps head home to the flat for supper, or to the United States* "Yes Mr. Security Officer, it's only an ethnic trinket...!"

Then we went to the hostels. They used to house men brought in from other parts of Africa for cheap labor--now they house whole families for R20/mo(about $3-$4). This is even hard for families, because South Africa's unemployment for single mothers is only R200/mo(about $33). Now the government is renovating/converting hostels into family units for R200/mo; after five years of payments, the family can own the hostel outright. This is great for people who can afford it, but often families can't keep up the payments, so not only do the lose the house, but they also lose all chance at another, because their names are already on the national registry.

We last saw "Beverly Hills." These are fancy houses built near the roadside so that passing motorists will have a better impression of the townships. However, informal housing(re: shacks and shanties) have popped up nearer to the roadside. The government wants the people to move, but the people want to be closer to work, as most often they are migrants from the eastern Cape and from other countries, particularly Zimbabwe.

We next went to call on the healer, but he was in the eastern Cape. Healers in South Africa have to be registered with a government list of traditional medicine practicers. They have no cure for HIV/AIDs, but they do offer HIV/AIDs education as a part of government programs. However, they have a cure for alcohol: a medicine made from turtle urine. I think just threatening someone with the medicine might get them to quit!

Then we went to Khayelitsha township. It was meant for 250,000-800,000 people; it houses over a million people. It was another government scheme to get blacks away from the city during the Afrikaans-striving-for-identity-through-supremacy time period. There are approximately 250,000 school-aged kids, which makes for 40-60 kids per class room. The shanties here are rough, but they can be owned outright, instead of paying rent like the hostels. There are communal water taps and toilets.

We stopped by Vicky's Bed and Breakfast. From the outside, it looks like a small, rough shack, but on the inside it's beautiful!
http://www.cape-town-hotels.travel/Vicky_s_Bed_and_Breakfast

She uses some of the money earned to help educate township kids on South African history with trips to Robbin Island and museums.

As I traveled through the miles of shanties and hostels and things, what surprised me was the amount of pride and effort people put into their homes. Yes, these people are very poor and have been cruelly treated by the past government without proper reparations from the present one, but there was still such an...I still don't know how to put it. "Taking lemons and making lemonade" sounds trite, but...? *shrugs* In Cape Town there seems to be such a complicated mixture of optimism, corruption, social divides, and social cooperation, and racial/ethnic everything. Hmmm...