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20 July

First off today was the first day that my roommates and I decided to cook dinner and eat in the house instead of going out. We made pasta with a cheese/garlic sauce and broccoli (for them not me). Also had some rolls on the side and ate dried mangoes. It was good though to just stay in the house and talk about the events of the day.  

Today was our city tour. We went with a group of about 60 I think. The tour guide Bradley was the same guy that was at the weekend get-away with us giving us a history lesson. And today was no different. The day was filled with so much information I don’t know how I can retell it to its full extent because it really had me experiencing a lot of emotions. Just a brief background of Bradley and the company he is with in case anyone is interested. He and a partner started Djembe Heritage Initiatives in order to help South Africans express their identity through heritage awareness and tourism; to understand everyones shared heritage. 

So we started off the tour close to the campus where everything is upscale, clean with lots of shops, etc etc. The area we are in, Summerstrand, Humewood are usually where more affluent people live, just to give you an idea of where we are located. We are near the beach and things are pretty calm around here (except for the noisy buses of course). The tour consisted of us traveling farther deeper into areas of Port Elizabeth that many don’t necessarily get to see. 

During the Apartheid movement the government split everyone up by race: white, colored and black. And during the tour it was really easy to see the distinctions between how each group lived. Many times it could still be seen even today on how the living arrangement were based on color or sometimes just who could afford them. The colored and black intermingled many of the times of course, since it was hard to distinguish people in those two categories at times. 

We slowly traveled more into the areas they called townships or our city ghettos as an equivalent. We got to see how education varied from large fenced in schools with private gardens to small building with no windows; housing slowly changed from up-scale to mere tin housing; malls turned into outside markets with second hand items; dogs on leashes to multiple dogs just roaming around the area; no children outdoors to whole groups of children standing around, walking home from school etc. It was all quite sobering I would have to say.

 At times I took in all the stories of pain in struggle personally as if those people he spoke of were my own aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers/sisters; other times I seemed to distance myself like it was all textbook material with no emotion in order to try and remain in a box where I still think most people are basically good. It was hard though, hearing about all the pain and subjugation that occurred. I don’t think I can listen to things like that without emotion, I mean after all they are all my people. When we went to the Red Museum in one of the black townships they had a museum displaying both the Apartheid movement and Civil Rights Movement side-by-side. It was all so much to take in all at once. I didn’t know if I was angry, sad, hurt, forgiving or numb--I just couldn’t get it all together in my mind. It all came so fast and there was not much time to marinate. 

We stopped several times in the black townships, one to see an artist who lived there and sold her beautiful work. She was a former NMMU student that Bradley knew. We also stopped to see a woman named Mama (I can’t remember the whole name) who fed  the local children and families food out of her own shack which was barely standing. Lastly we had stopped at the Red Museum. Every time we stopped the children would come--running, smiling, dancing, asking questions, wanting to take pictures, etc. Some asked for money, some were shy and stayed off to the side, while some were ready to show off their chris brown move.They are all so beautiful and full of life, like for real, the kids were the source of calmness for us all I think. I mean first when we were driving through the townships most of us got quiet and real serious, but the kids with their smiles even amongst their living conditions kind of relieved everyone in a way I think, to see them still able to laugh and joke given all other things. 

Which brings me to something I thought about a lot during the ride. How everyone around me got so excited and ready to snap a picture of everything in the townships. The people, their homes, etc. It just seems excessive. I took some of the children who said they wanted their picture taken but everything else was from a distance. I couldn’t bring myself to take pictures of people’s homes and their way of living as if they were on display. I would feel like I was being invaded if I lived poorly and I had people at all times coming through and taking pictures. It just makes me feel some sort of way. I read somewhere about how sometimes foreigners during the past wold go to these countries and take these pictures, not as a way to educate or learn but just make another dollar. Just seems like another form of exploitation to me, but like I said that’s my personal opinion.

He also showed many areas where black/colored had done for themselves what the government had been promising since early years of apartheid. Building schools and business for themselves and doing it all well. 

1994 was the official year that apartheid was over. It's only been 16 years. I was just thinking like omg thats like not that long ago at all. All the experiences are fresh. An interesting thought.  

At dinner I talked to my roommates about some of my reactions to the day and they in turn talked about their thoughts. I appreciate their willingness to talk and share even though we did not necessarily agree on some points; talking about it is a good start. The question was posed again today--What is your purpose in SA? I guess I’m still trying to really figure this out. I thought I had it, but now I’m not so sure.