Langa and Robbin Island

Saturday February 23^rd, was a busy day full of excursions! Martin started making rounds at 8:30am and brought Becky, Liora, Jenna, Myaisha, Carol, Sarah, Sharkey, and I to the Langa Pass Museum on Washington Street, right down the road from my house. The rest of our classmates were already waiting for us as we were the last to arrive, so we all headed inside for our guided tour of the museum with Alfred, the museum’s caretaker and Alida’s uncle. Alfred was a really informative tour guide, telling us all about the formation of Langa and the township’s role in the apartheid struggle. My favorite quote by Alfred is “In Langa, my next-door-neighbor’s business is my business and my neighbor down-the-block’s business is my business.” In the two weeks I’ve lived in Langa I’ve found this statement to be absolutely true. People in my host community genuinely care about one another and are always willing to give each other a helping hand. As one of the few white residents in the township, I’ve especially found that my neighbors always look out for me and make sure I return home safely to my family. Last Sunday for example, I had to get off of the taxi by myself after our beach trip to Camps Bay and walk from the corner to my house alone (not a very far walk, but one that I’m not supposed to take alone). One of the women who got off at my stop with me asked me if I would be alright walking by myself or if I wanted her to walk with me. The woman and I were complete strangers, yet she was willing to go out of her way to make sure that I made it safely home. That’s genuine kindness if I’ve ever seen it.

After spending an hour in the pass museum with Alfred, our group met up with two new tour guides, a brother and sister, for a walking tour of the township. Our first stop was the youth center, also on Washington Street. Here we talked to a local artist about the pottery workshop and then went to the music room and had a 10-minute drumming lesson/jam session which was SO FUN! I’m not a musically-inclined person but I had a blast beating away on the drums and singing a Xhosa song with the rest of my classmates. After the youth center, the next stop on our tour was to a local bar to try some home-brewed beer. I was a little sketched out at first when our tour guide led us down an alley and into a poorly lit, empty wooden shack. Our guide then explained where we were and how beer is made in Langa before the beer-maker poured beer from one of the drums of beer in the corner of the room and into a bucket on the floor. We then passed the bucket around the room, either kneeling on the floor or squatting (the tradition way to drink beer) as we poured the contents of the bucket into our mouths. The beer was really good and it was fun to watch my classmates attempt to maneuver the bucket in order to take a drink. It was especially comical to watch our program director, Stewart, drink from the bucket with his two year old daughter strapped to his back! Once everyone had had enough to drink, we headed out to continue our tour. We went to the hostels which used to house only men but now house families who don’t have their own houses in the middle of the township and the Joe Slovo shanty community on the outskirts of Langa. I had a hard time at these places because I felt like I was invading the privacy of people who don’t have much, if any, privacy to begin with. I very much felt like a voyeur. At both these places our group was very popular with the children who live in these areas of the township. These kids have no problem running up to you, grabbing your hand, and walking with you or asking for sweets. We honestly looked like the Pied Piper because our group attracted children to us and continued to grow street by street. Children in the township are fascinated by us and shout “White people! White people!” in Xhosa whenever we pass by. If asked to describe my time in South Africa thus far, I would definitely say that I tend to cause a scene wherever I go! I guess that’s what happens when you’re a white girl living in a black township, in a country where whites are a minority.

street puppy!

Youth Center

drumming with my girl Lara!

playing dominoes street-side

sheep head, anyone? I had this for dinner one night... minus the fur and blood

street puppy!

My little buddy is the boy on the left with a backpack. We held hands for ten minutes without saying a word to each other. It was precious.

After our tour of Langa we piled into the vans and headed off to the waterfront to catch the ferry to Robbin Island. One of the cool parts of going to Robbin Island was that we each got to bring a member of our host family to share the experience with us. I brought my makhulu, Yoli, and Kelin brought her mama, Mimi, who is Yoli’s younger sister. Yoli was born in Cape Town and in her 61 years had never been to Robbin Island so I was excited that she was able to come with me. After our 25-30 minute ferry ride to the island, we met up with a former prisoner who gave us a private tour of the prison facilities. Our tour guide was really informative and I was moved that he was willing to tell us about his experiences as a prisoner. Honestly I’m surprised that he’s even willing to come back to Robbin Island after all he went through physically, mentally, and emotionally. I admire his courage immensely; I don’t think I could ever be that selfless and brave. Aside from hearing about our guide’s firsthand experience, my favorite part of his tour was that we actually got to stand inside Nelson Mandela’s cell! The cell is usually not open to the public but our guide unlocked the door so we could go in and take pictures. Unfortunately my camera battery died when we arrived on the island, but I got a picture with my friend Lara on her camera in the cell. After our guided tour through the facilities we took a bus tour of the island to see where the prison wardens and their families lived and the lighthouse. While we were driving I saw a penguin out the bus window! That was definitely the highlight of that segment of the tour for me!

On the ferry ride back to Cape Town Lara made friends with some of the crew members and let us on the deck even though it was full (we may or may not have traded half a giant cookie in order to do this…). Honestly I have never felt more alive than I did on the ferry deck with the wind blowing so hard that I had to hold onto the rail in order to stay standing and the view of Cape Town surrounded on all sides by the mountains on the horizon before me. As we watched the mountains grow bigger and the ferry come closer and closer to the harbor, Lara and I both agreed that we could not have picked a better place to spend the semester!

Lara and I in Nelson Mandela's prison cell at Robbin Island