A Day in Capetown

August 2nd… Scott, Nigel, Joel and I got up early today to get ready for a day in Capetown. We were pleased to see sunshine gleaming through our windows. Things looked promising. We drove over to the Roos’ house to pick up Tessa, Naty, and Kaitlyn. Unfortunately they had to sit in the boot of Squeaky Sam because we had no room. In Canada, I’m sure that would be illegal, but here in Africa, there’s always room in the vehicle for another African. Next, we drove into Lwandle (a nearby township where Thulani used to live) to pick up Potloot (aka Pencil), whose real name is unknown because he has so many nicknames. He’s one of the the veterans in Siyacula. We invited him to join us for the day.

The weather was still sunny and warm as we drove the short distance to Capetown. It felt great to be in a big city again. What was even better was that everywhere we looked, we were still surrounded by gorgeous scenery – a city amidst mountains and ocean… sigh. We first went for breakfast at Harrie’s Pancakes because we were all starving. (Side note: In Africa, pancakes are crepes and the pancakes that we know are called flapjacks.) After our nice breakfast, we roamed around the V & A (Victoria & Alfred) Waterfront, checked out some shops, and also explored the mall. No major shopping done on my part, I just bought some cool African shakers from the African Trading Port to add to my music classroom. Kids love show & tell, and I love showing and telling them about the nic nacs that I pick up from my travels. I think my students will enjoy the shakers.

We had all purchased tickets earlier to visit the Robben Island Museum in the afternoon. I was eager to get a dose of African history. We all boarded the ferry at 2:30pm and made the trip out to the island, which was about an hour long. When we got to Robben Island, everyone had to transfer onto a bus where we would next be driven into the encampment. Our tour guide, Mohammed something something, was very informative and dramatic. Haha… he was also very politically incorrect… calling people on the bus “You Dutch and your cheese… You English and your collar necks and ties… You Australians and your eucalyptus trees which soaked up all the fresh water reserve on the island… etc.” He was really funny and interesting to listen to.

After the bus tour around Robben Island, we were dropped off by the prisons to take a closer look inside. Our tour guide this time was named Sparks – an ex-political prisoner of Robben Island. Mohammed had explained earlier that because of the high unemployment rate in Africa, employees’ job choices were very limited. For example, Sparks was not necessarily a tour guide on Robben Island because he wanted to be, but because that position created a job opportunity for him. Still, it was really cool and admirable to be led by someone who had been through all the hardships of Robben Island and was able to recount stories from a first-person perspective. Sparks showed everyone his prison cell and talked briefly about his experience upon his admittance. He said he was stripped physically of his identity and was given a number for a name and a yellow card of identity. Prisoners had to sleep on thin mats with no sheets or blankets, even in the winter. The windows didn’t even have glass on them so cold air and rain would enter the cells causing many people to get sick with TB and pneumonia. Prisoners’ privileges, clothing, and food proportions were also determined by the color of their skin. Often times, the colored and whites would get more of everything compared to the blacks. For example, the colored and whites got to wear long sleeved jackets, long pants and shoes, while the blacks had to wear short sleeves, shorts and no shoes. This was a way to distinguish the races. It was sickening to hear the cruelty and harsh living conditions that the prisoners on Robben Island had to undergo. Later, we also got to see Nelson Mandela’s prison cell and the courtyard where he hid his infamous book entitled, “The Long Road to Freedom.” Overall, the Robben Island tour was amazing and definitely worthwhile to the unknowing tourist. I strongly recommend that one invests time in listening to this history lesson if ever one plans to visit Capetown.

In the evening, the group of us went to City Hall to catch the National High School Choir Gala Competition. Woot… the City Hall auditorium was quite the beauty sight with balconies and a beautiful organ at the front. The high school choirs were pretty good in relation to my high school choirs back in the day, so that was a bonus. Besides some interesting cultural takes on African traditionals by very white Afrikaans choirs and questionable conducting techniques (including what we called “the wank”), it was a pleasant evening.

It proved to be quite the full day today and everyone was starting to get tired so we made the drive back to Somerset West. Since it was close to 10pm when we arrived, we invited Potloot to stay with us in town instead going back into the township. Conditions in the townships have been very dangerous due to the recent uprising of zenophobia. It wouldn’t have been wise to drive into the township at night. Potloot said that there is a 9pm curfew every night and if you are spotted on the street after that time or even approaching that time, you would be severely beaten up by other locals. My question is what gives them the right?!! Gosh, everything is so messed up and corrupt, even the police hang out with gangs sometimes. Nkosi sikele i’Africa… God bless Africa, for they need healing and help so desperately in this time of chaos. I pray things will resolve themselves sooner than later.