Sarah:
Working at Black Sash, an organization which for much of its existence had a membership base of all women, has inevitably pushed me to consider gender issues. Recently, Will and I have been interviewing original members of the Sash about their experiences with the group, and I have found their persistence and courage to be very inspiring. These discussions have provided me with an additional lens through which to view South Africa and the world, as I contemplate with awe the gravity of their actions during apartheid. So, it was through this process of thinking that I come to reflect on an incident from last weekend.
On Saturday, the group took a trip out to Simonstown to visit Peter Story and his wife, Elizabeth. Peter was a minister who was very outspoken against apartheid while it was occurring, and believes strongly in bringing politics to the pulpit. We met in Peter’s church, where he sat at the front of the room, facing the rest of us who sat in the pews. While he answered questions from the students and told us about his life, his wife sat in the back, a spectator like the rest of us. Occasionally, though, she would chime in to correct a statement her husband had made, or to add in a couple of sentences of commentary on events Peter forgot to mention. But, quickly, she would be cut off, returning to her silence. After the talk was completed, we all went out to lunch together at a restaurant on the beach. I sat near Elizabeth, and as I talked to her, I realized that she, too, was an active figure during apartheid. She had stories of her own to share, but it seemed to me that she was not given the opportunity to do so because the focus was often placed upon her husband. While her husband was undoubtedly a paramount figure during the apartheid era, I began to feel increasingly disconcerted by the fact that Elizabeth’s story was seemingly cast aside, taking a back seat to Peter’s. I’m not sure whether that was the fault of our group, of her husband, or of societal norms. But, it left me feeling slightly uncomfortable, confused, and unsettled. I felt that she should have been merited her own conversation, rather than being reduced to interjecting randomly during her husband’s story.
Was this something that happened to her often? And to other women? I certainly don’t think that one would typically see a wife being the focal point of conversation, with her husband sitting in the background. And that troubled me, again prompting me to consider how gender roles still plague society.
Will:
At some point in my academic career, South Africa and the issues that its colorful history raised became somewhat of a cliché to me.
In middle school and high school it seemed like I read countless books about the Apartheid era. Maybe this was some kind of trend that swept North Carolina educators in the early 2000s. And while I recognized the importance of the issues raised in these works, I was tired of discussing the same themes year after year. At some point (perhaps as I watched “Colour of Friendship,” a cheesy Disney movie about Apartheid-era race issues, in 7th grade) I lost interest in South Africa. Its historical significance had taken on a level of triviality for me.
My Duke Engage experience has shattered that impression. I’ve been reintroduced to the complexities of this country through hands-on experiences, fascinating guest speakers, and two outstanding professors. It’s been an eye-opening program and it has sparked my interest in reading anything I can get my hands on about South Africa.
I’ve particularly enjoyed reading “Beyond the Miracle,” a book which tracks the nation’s development following the election of Mandela, authored by the renowned South African journalist Allister Sparks. I was also excited when The Economist magazine published a “special report” on South Africa a couple weeks ago in advance of the World Cup. Sparks, who once wrote for The Economist, was one of our guest speakers for this program. Hearing his perspectives in person, combined with reading his book and The Economist’s report, gave me a social and economic picture of what the country looks like today.
That picture isn’t quite as rosy as my middle school lessons made it seem. South Africa is at a crossroads. It has undergone a miraculous governmental transition from a racist regime to a functioning democracy without enduring a civil war or widespread violent conflict. But it is still plagued by corruption, massive unemployment, and a devastating AIDS epidemic. There are some who feel that, despite hosting this year’s World Cup, South Africa is on the verge of a collapse. It is the superpower of the African continent but many indicators show that it is not far from descending into the Third World.
This is an exciting time to be working at a South African NGO. I know that as an individual I cannot expect to singlehandedly change the course of a country, which I know relatively little about. But I am hopeful that I will be able to be part of the movement that keeps South Africa on the right track, prevents it from being engulfed by poverty, and reminds the world of the stunning historical achievements that occurred here just 16 years ago.
Dana:
Throughout our time in Cape Town I have consistently had varying revelations and impressions, not only about South Africa but about myself. Over the past week in particular I had one memorable impression - not necessarily about the specific culture and our placements, but about service in general. Driving from the metropolitan city bowl of Cape Town to its surrounding townships and settlements, it is impossible not to be taken aback by the degrees of variation in levels of affluence. Simply put, though an air of slow racial and socio-economic development pervades the enitre atmosphere of Cape Town, seeing the impoverished neighborhoods of its outskirts is both startling and devastating. This past Wednesday, one of our co-workers at the District Six Museum took us on a tour of this area - and seeing such poverty is debilitating, let alone living it. I personally found it extremely discomfiting, and then I felt uncomfortable with that thought in itself. I wondered, or rather am still wondering, whether it's possible my own societal comfort levels could prevent me from fully participating in service. Though I'm still struggling with this consideration and probably will for years to come, hopefully my time here in Cape Town will further help me learn to understand and embrace such discomfort and utilize that emotion to propel myself into more wholistic service.
Ibrahim:
Juxta-position
Flying into Cape Town 3 weeks ago now (amazing how time flies) it was difficult to not be struck by the immense beauty of the place. At the Southern tip of Africa there rise these gorgeous granite mountains, out of the lush green of the peninsula, carving said peninsula into numerous picturesque bays where the crystal blue sea meets pure white sand at the foot of these mountains.
We’re fortunate enough to live in Tamboerskloof, an upscale suburb nestled in the “city bowl” between the mountains and Table Bay and within walking distance of downtown. Walking to work everyday through the City Bowl, it’s hard not to catch yourself admiring Table Mountain in its massive flat glory dominating the landscape to your right.
It’s also hard not to notice the predominance of whites living in this area.
On Wednesday though, we were taken by one of our managers at the District Six Museum into the other former “group areas.” Mandy, our manager, drove us out of the City Bowl area into the townships. Driving through Athlone, into Langa, Bonteheuwal (sp?) and Gugulatu the difference in scenery was immense. We’d left the beauty of Table Bay and driven into the Cape Flats, the dusty flatlands that house the townships mentioned above. Just like everyone else, I was immediately struck by the stark poverty I witnessed in these areas compared to where I’d just come from and to where we live. One thing that I kept in mind during the whole drive, though, was how government policy intended to keep these people, these “others” under the thumb of the apartheid government. These were the areas were many former District Six residents of different races (District Six was located on prime property in the City Bowl) were relocated to and because they were of different races, former neighbors were placed into township group areas miles apart and separated by rail lines and highways (to keep the different “groups” from meeting and cooperating). And on top of that, the government had the sick humor to name much of this tenement housing after places and streets in District Six.
Toto, we definitely were not in the City Bowl any more. It was amazing to me that just on the other side of the mountain, not more than 30km away, the government was able to effectively dump all of these different people in order to keep the most prized areas for what they viewed as the most prized race.
