District Six Museum (Ubong)

Interning at the District Six Museum (D6M) thus far is best described as being first in line to the newest roller coaster ride in an amusement park; you do not exactly know what the experience will be like but you know you will have an awesome time, and your ride will pick up speed quickly (sometimes too quickly). Afterward you sometimes cannot wait to get off and feel like you will never get back on but you always do, and it is the best ride of your life! This roller coaster ride best describes the first month of my internship at D6M and with the other members of D6 Mafia (Dana Doran, Ibrahim Maali, Michael Blake, and Alison Kibbe). From my first day at D6, my bosses (if I must give them titles although this classification diminishes the communal, egalitarian atmosphere of the D6 workplace) had me working and working hard. D6M was undergoing efforts to expand the museum by adding the Homecoming Center one block away from the original church-turned-into-a-museum building and so us interns anticipated big days ahead of us as we would be assisting in this huge endeavor.

The exhibitions department, headed by a small woman but equipped with a vicious,spunky in-your-face-if-need-be attitude named Tina, was in the process of creating an exhibition about how forced removals changed, shaped, and transformed soccer in Cape Town and how soccer was used in the anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa. The exhibition department also consisted of Chris, a kind and funny woman who always seemed to be busy with a thousands things to do by the day's end or panicky about the mistakes or aspects gone wrong in the exhibition (a sentiment felt by many at D6M including myself by the end of the process). Virgil, another guy with a sense of humor at D6, did tremendous work researching and compiling the information of the "Offsides" and "Fields of Play" exhibits of the new exhibition. Let me not forget to tell you about the other people involved in creating the new exhibition. Tina's significant other, Paul, along with the other members of the British Council, one of the sponsors of the addition to the museum, was involved in the year-long process of research and data formulation of the exhibition department. Other sponsors included Football Unites, Racism Divides (FURD), a British NGO that works with the sport to promote equality and fight against racism, homophobia, and other negative aspects of society. And last but not least is the Scan Shop, colloquially called the Scam Shop by some. The shop equipped D6M with the laborers and the hands-on support to build and construct the new exhibition but not without its share of mistakes and setbacks that spilled over to D6 Mafia helping to reverse their mistakes (my hands and fingernails may never recover).

Along with the exhibition department, the entire staff of D6 put everything on hold in order to help the exhibitions department and make the June 15th deadline (a wonderful date with which to share my birthday). Thulani and Dean, guys probably in their mid-twenties from the Collections department, created and compiled the audio and visual material for the "Offsides" and "Fields of Play" exhibits. Additionally, Marguax, an archive curator, and Mandy, the head of the educational department and in charge of us interns, also spent their times lending a hand or two with whatever the exhibitions department needed to be done. Bonita, the director of D6, helped as well whenever she was not busy in formal meetings with the sponsors of the new exhibition, giving tours of the progress we were all making, or holding meetings with various groups of people (She is always extremely busy).

All of these people kept my days extremely busy during those first couple of weeks and extended our workdays, but Dana, Ibrahim, Michael, Alison, and I were happy to stay in order to help finalize the exhibition and establish our place at D6M. We even committed our Saturdays and Sundays for the sake of the new exhibitions (Dana cannot find a better way to spend her Sunday afternoons than painting massive swooshes on an entire wall). I remember initially disliking my first day; I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. However, this sentiment quickly evaporated as the D6 roller coaster accelerated toward my birthday deadline and I not only found more work to throw myself into but felt a sense of belonging and appreciation as I contributed to more and more.

The work of us interns varied as we found our places at D6M but we mostly shared similar projects and tasks. We all had our share of peeling plastic off of life-sized soccer player figures and endlessly scraping our nails at the burnt corners. Painting represented our initiation into D6 Mafia as we all had to paint at least one wall, cabinet, etc. during any course of the day. But Dana shuffled mostly between painting giant swooshes on one gigantic wall of the "Fields of Play" exhibit and organizing pictures and captions of various football clubs on digital frames that would be displayed in the new exhibition. Alison took charge on organizing closets and compiling information of various football clubs such as the Bayana, Bayana national team and the Cape Ramblers to display in boxes in the "Field of Play" exhibit. Alison also made the outline of the swooshes and did the early painting of them with Michael before Dana took over the project. They initially had difficulty with the out-of-scale rendering of the wall but they eventually overcame that obstacle. Ibrahim and I mostly worked together with our projects. First, we transferred material from old display cases and transplanted them into newer, nicer-looking displays. For our next task, we reorganized a display of the East Ends Football Association and the Cape Football Association. We then compiled documents and pictures for another display case for an exhibit highlighting the administration of Coloured football clubs. After each one of us D6 Mafia members finished our respective projects, we then took on assignments from cleaning the exhibition space, painting walls or boards, sweeping, reorganizing, recaptioning, etc. The D6 roller coaster really went into hyperdrive during this period as the final days before the grand opening of the exhibit were coming to an end. However, the June 15th deadline came sooner than we knew it as we all worked tirelessly hours before the 6:00 pm grand opening of the Homecoming Center. The grand opening was an amazing success that D6 Mafia, D6M staff, and contributors to the new exhibition shared with ex-residents of District Six, community members, and the general public.

Now that the new exhibition has long been completed, D6 Mafia now has new assignments as its members split up to help the museum in ways that capture their respective interests. From the very beginning, Dana expressed her interest in working with Mandy and the educational department so accordingly, she has been researching and organizing information about other sites of forced removals in South Africa and from that, helping the department develop educational programming/packets. Alison's new assignment deals with the Prestwich Memorial Project, a controversial site in Cape Town as the city decides how to deal with the ancient burial in the midst of development around the sacred ground. Ibrahim and I are working with the redevelopment framework of D6. We are charged with translating the information of how the area plans to develop with respects to equity, restitution, and living memory so that former residents understand the future framework of their community. Ibrahim and I are also helping the museum brainstorm ways to preserve the memory of two historic sites in D6 with regards to future redevelopment. Michael now works on the publicity of the new exhibition and helps the D6 staff with their projects as well. Between these responsibilities, he makes time to continue the research of his senior thesis as he establishes his second home at the archives. With these new tasks ahead of us, D6 Mafia only embraces optimism as we learn more about the living history of D6, conduct research in the various topics of our projects, and hope to leave the D6 staff the information they need to restore justice to an area destroyed by apartheid.

-Ubong

South African and American Hospitality (Sarah)

Me and Mike atop Lion's Head

The past few days have been full of both South African and American hospitality, and a combination of the two. On Sunday, we celebrated the 4^th of July with a South African braai by the pool at the bed and breakfast. Bob arranged the event, complete with a grill, veggie burgers, sausage, chicken, vegetables, and traditional malva pudding to commemorate the day. Celebrating an American holiday in a foreign country is not new to me, but nonetheless it felt strange. I suppose that’s because, in the past, when I’d celebrate Independence Day overseas, it’d be in the presence of dozens of other Americans from Embassy families. But here, only our DukeEngage group met (with the presence of Mike, the other Black Sash intern, and Michelle, who’s on an independent project in Hout Bay). After the braai, some of us went to Long Street to continue the celebration. But, the street and clubs were mostly empty, and there were only a handful of others adorned in U.S.A. apparel. That was somewhat startling, though not entirely unexpected. (However, I will admit, the desertedness could have also be attributed to the fact that it was a Sunday night). It was interesting, though, that the American holiday went so unnoticed. I expected at least moderate recognition of the day, but there really was none at all. It was just odd to think that, while I was sitting at a quiet, empty bar in Cape Town’s “going out” hub, people back at home were watching fireworks and socializing. But, celebrating the 4^th of July in South Africa gave me a new perspective. It made me realize how much pride I have for my national identity. And while I always celebrate the fourth at home, I didn’t realize how much I appreciated it for its patriotic quality. Yet, despite the lack of fireworks or large crowds, I still felt a bond to the other Americans I passed on the streets, and America itself from afar.

--

As I’ve mentioned previously, Will and I have been working on a living history project through Black Sash to document the stories of the original Sash members. So far, we’ve interviewed 13 women. There are many more whom we’d like to interview, but unfortunately we’re running short on time and likely won’t have the opportunity to complete all of the interviews that we’d like.

Tonight, Will and I were invited to have dinner with a Sasher, Candy Malherbe. Born in the U.S.A., she moved to South Africa in the 1950s when she married a South African man. Candy has demonstrated the kindest hospitality toward Will and me, from inviting us to tea at her house several weeks ago, to cooking dinner for us tonight, despite the fact that she is over 80 years old and has Polio. She is an incredibly intelligent and well-informed woman, and we were able to talk with her not only about her time in the Black Sash and South African politics, but American politics as well.

Her generosity was obviously not expected by Will and me—this is a woman we had never even met a couple of weeks ago, yet she invited us to her house for tea and then for dinner! This hospitality in South Africa, exemplified by Candy’s actions, made me so appreciative of all of the kind people we have encountered in South Africa, particularly through our Black Sash interviews. These Black Sash women invite Will and me, complete strangers, into their homes. They serve us tea and biscuits, share their stories, and demonstrate genuine interest in our lives. I’m not sure whether this hospitality stems from their love for the Sash, South African principles, or just a kind nature. But, regardless, none of it has gone unnoticed.

--Sarah

The Power of Image (Samera)

I dig magazines- I read them at the gym, I read them at the doctor’s office, and I read them on long airplane rides. Safe to say, I brought a load of American magazines with me for the 24 hour flight from home to South Africa. Recently, I was reading a magazine to kill time before dinner at the b&b. Any expert of magazines knows that they are saturated with advertisements and this magazine was no different.

I was looking at an advertisement for Covergirl advertising their new mascara that matches your eye color. Makeup’s not my thing, but I digress. They had four product varieties- for blue eyes, green eyes, hazel eyes, and brown eyes. There’s nothing usual about that. However, I lingered on the fact that each of the model eyes they used seemingly came from white models. There was no one featured with a darker hue to match the varied eyes. I stared at the advertisement for a long time and reflected upon the supposed trivial nature of advertisements. Yet, it’s not so trivial.

Advertisements reveal a lot about the values and representations that a culture projects. One of the things I immediately noticed when arriving in South Africa was that advertisements overwhelmingly used black models. From products ranging from food to detergent, black images were used. Similarly, I appreciate that black hair care products aren’t relegated to the “ethnic section” of the hair product isle. Small things like that not only recognize people for their purchasing power, but normalize their experiences as not “foreign” within their own nation.

--Samera

M’hudi (Ibrahim)

South Africa is the seventh largest producer of wine in the world. The industry is nearly as historic as the first European settlements, having been in production for 351 years. And thus, almost as long as there have been racial distinctions and separations in South Africa, there has been wine.

And just as the government of South Africa had long been the refuge of whites, so has the wine industry. The Western Cape, which is the historic wine producing region, has a centuries-long history of white family-owned vineyards and the most famous area within the Western Cape, Stellenbosch, has historically been an Afrikaner stronghold (the University of Stellenbosch produced a long list of apartheid-era prime ministers).

So I was surprised to hear that this last Sunday we would be going to what was likely the only Black family owned vineyard in the Western Cape.

M’hudi is the only black-owned vineyard in Stellenbosch and, apart from the area’s history and demographics, it is unique in a number of other ways as well. The father of the family, Diale, originally wanted to own a cow farm, despite being a professor of English literature. But when he ended up with a vineyard in historic Stellenbosch he convinced all of his children, many holding advanced degrees, and his wife with her masters in psychology that they could be successful in viticulture, despite knowing nothing about it.

The family was incredibly warm, talkative, and hospitable. As their presentation began, they told us about the massive learning curve they were up against, how they tried to learn viticulture from books on the Northern hemisphere and then how they tried to take the advice in these books and just do the opposite (since it’s the southern hemisphere). It’s probably safe to say that they may have underestimated the winemaking process and why so many vineyards are established from a family tradition of passing down experience. I was really impressed with how dedicated the family was to breaking into this historically white industry and breaking the stigma associated with local wine among the rising black middle and upper class (if they drink wine, they prefer foreign wine without the associations to apartheid that Stellenbosch carries).

Even more than all of this, it was most interesting to hear about the amount of cooperation and assistance they received from their neighbors. Diale mentioned how one afternoon two casually dressed white men appeared at their door and offered assistance and a mentorship. He described how he had fears of similarly dressed apartheid era security forces but was relieved to hear what they were actually there for. And while I’m sure this gesture doesn’t signal the general attitude of the average Stellenbosch resident toward black-owned vineyards, I thought it was still an interesting attitude shift in the new South Africa.

Some of my colleagues mentioned that it’s not every day you hear SWOT analyses, Paulo Frieri, and Abraham Maslow at a vineyard tour but it’s definitely not every day you go to a black owned vineyard in the Western Cape.

--Ibrahim

Across Manenberg Avenue (Brandon)

“We must go to the grave,” directed the priest to the young, colored assistant. He picked his face up from its resting position, stood up and followed the priest into the back of the church. Their white garments flapped lightly as they descended into the shadow of the hallway.

The procession was on schedule: visiting hours had taken place, and the hearse was on its way to the church. An afternoon sun bore down on the mass progressing towards the center. Seeing the approaching scene, the kids who were trying to wrestle for a last scrap of donated food soon dispersed to other streets or the adjacent field to play soccer. A momentary quiet had fallen on the grounds.

The rusty gate creaked open to let in the arriving crowd and dusty, white vehicle. With the trunk opening, people awkwardly bulged and converged to make room. Eventually, most started heading into the church foyer and then to their respective seats. Whispers of hot conversation escaped the entrance and wafted over the haze of now settling dust.

Although that morning I had plans to start my photography project on a soccer, educational program in the Manenberg township, I found myself engaged with a setting much less light. Auntie Susie, one of the older volunteers at the program, had plans to go the funeral of a man whose mother she was well acquainted with and invited me to come along. The man had been involved with the program that I was currently working for, and I thought it would be important to find more information about the situation.

Before the priest had to speak to the entering congregation, I got a chance to meet him. He had studied at a Catholic institution in Pretoria for a time. His ability to speak Afrikaans preempted him to be placed in the primarily Afrikaans speaking township of Manenberg. He explained to me some details related to death, saying that Richard, the man who died, had been murdered by his fellow gang members, the so-called Bad Boys. At the age of 14, he had dropped out of school and at some point became integrated within this group. Richard was “a quiet guy” who did not always find time to hang with the gang; the priest also mentioned the possibility some homophobic tensions that could have ostracized from the group. Supposedly, Richard had done something to tick the gang off a little bit (or as Auntie added, he had done something “naughty”) and was murdered in response. Luckily, the man’s sister had seen the guys who had committed the crime and was able to report them to the authorities. He had died at the age of 20.

“All rise,” directed the priest this time to the mostly colored audience. In a mix of interchanged Afrikaans and English, he ebbed the tension in the room with an unfaltering tone in his sermon. “In my interview with the family, I learned that he loved to wash the dishes and the chance to cook dinner for his mother,” the priest debriefed, gazing down to meet the eyes of parents. “He was a little different. But Jesus loves everyone, even for all our differences.” Relinquishing the pulpit for other speakers, the priest requested a couple of people including Richard’s sister to say a couple of words. The dark strands of her hair tied tightly in a bun, she promptly made her way to the front. However, only an echo of feeble whimpers rang throughout the room as the girl pressed up on the microphone. She soon bounded off the alter, hands balled up around her mouth.

And then to the graveyard. Croaking sobs. The priest standing stoically, the rhythm of his words conducting the convulsing crowd. To the hymn of greener pastures, the crane lowered the coffin, submerging into its dusty cavern. “And from dust to dust”.

Two days after, I am still finding it difficult to reflect on the event. It certainly emphasizes many issues within the community including violence, the gangster culture, school dropouts and dealings with sexuality. In terms of its relation to the service organization, it provides an interesting counterpoint to the organization’s proposed alternative to the gangster culture, as one of the volunteers was involved this culture. However, in regard to how I feel, I am still coming to grips with the situation. Hopefully with time, I will know how to assess better what transpired.

--Brandon

First "Soccer City," Now Soccer Nation (Will)

At "Soccer City" in Soweto

Even in South Africa, I have developed what amounts to a normal routine.

I wake up in the morning around 7:30 a.m., eat breakfast, arrive for work at 9 a.m. In the afternoons I leave work around 4 p.m. and I’m back home by 4:30 or so.

But today something was different.

After returning home from a typical day working at Black Sash, I stepped into my room and flipped on the TV. To my surprise, there wasn’t a soccer match being shown.

The World Cup has been a constant companion during our group’s time here. While we’ve enjoyed following the action, meeting the fans from around the world, and celebrating the success of the national team Bafana Bafana, I think it’s safe to say we’ve had at least some doubts about whether this global spectacle has been a positive influence.

Now we’ve reached the quarterfinals of the competition. Eight teams remain alive and there are only seven games left to be played. This is a rare chance to stop and reflect on the meaning of this commotion without the distant buzzing of vuvuzelas in the background.

For South Africa as a nation there are plenty of issues at stake. FIFA’s decision to allow the world’s largest sporting event to be held in an African nation was monumental. The build-up to the Cup raised plenty of questions, and as my fellow intern Sarah Krueger outlined, many questions still remain.

The impact the World Cup will have on South Africa is one that we have all deliberated over during our time here. It is a question that will be debated endlessly by politicians, economists, and foreign observers for years to come. In addition, the influence this sporting event has had on our DukeEngage is an issue that our group has also discussed.

It had the potential to be a tremendous distraction - think March Madness on a global scale – but I believe we have turned it into a positive force for our program.

The event itself has been a key talking point for several of our guest speakers, many of whom were extremely critical of its effects on the poor, on infrastructure, and on the justice system. The topic is almost unavoidable in conversations about current events and has thus helped bring to light a range of different issues that we have discussed with our guests.

Secondly, our group has found experiences that integrate soccer with society in a meaningful way. We attended the opening of two exhibits that explored social impact of soccer in South Africa, especially in relation to race and poverty. The soccer “kultcha” photography exhibit at the University of Cape Town explored the meaning of the sport in the townships and the Cape Flats. A new exhibit called “Offside” at the District Six museum delved into the relationship between soccer and racism, framing the sport as a force for unity and integration around the world.

To me these two exhibits show how members of our group have worked on projects that, rather than ignore the presence of this massive global event, instead attempt to use the World Cup as a touchstone for constructive dialogue.

I’m proud of the work our group has done relating to the World Cup. We’ve avoided the distracting elements and made the event a part of educational framework. And I know when I look back on my time in South Africa, soccer will be one part of the many incredible learning experiences I’ve had.

That being said, I can’t wait to watch Germany vs. Argentina face off in Cape Town this weekend.

-Will

The Beauty of Unintentional Learning (Sarah)

At Mhudi Vineyard

This past weekend, the group took a trip out to Stellenbosch, an area renowned as the home to South Africa’s many vineyards. We visited a black-owned vineyard called Mhudi. The owners gave us a presentation in which they discussed, among other things, some problems plaguing their company. A current obstacle against which they are battling is the perception that their wine is of a lower quality simply because the vineyard is owned by black South Africans. But after our wine sampling, none of us doubted the quality of their wine.

Later, we were served a traditional South African lunch, complete with Kudu sausage, lamb chops, and many local vegetables that are not found in the U.S. While we dined on a beautiful veranda overlooking the mountains, a band entertained us with many songs on marimbas.

Yesterday, the group climbed Lion’s Head, a mountain in Cape Town. From the summit, we watched the sun set over the city of Cape Town. The view was amazing; one could see the city of Cape Town, Table Mountain, and the ocean. Climbing down in the dark was slightly treacherous, but fortunately there were no major falls or injuries.

I have come to really appreciate the additional excursions that our group takes on the weekends, and during the week. They are an invaluable asset to our program, and the trips augment our academic experience greatly. Prior to arriving in South Africa for DukeEngage, I assumed that the trip would be almost solely service-based. And while that is a huge component of our program, I have been surprised and appreciative of the plethora of academic experiences we have gained. From meeting with community leaders to reading South African newspaper articles, I have learned so much. But I have also found that, even when an activity may be ostensibly unrelated to academics, the experience somehow still manages to help me grow intellectually. And to me, that unintentional type of learning is the best kind.