it's messy

Most of my blog posts thus far have been a smattering of butterflies, rainbows, pixie dust, and sunshine. I do not say this to devalue any of those earlier posts, but to draw attention to the other, very real, part of my experience here. I want to be able to share that with you too. It's going to be messy. It's going to be confusing. It's going to be something I must do in order to stay true to myself and my experiences here.


But where to begin...?


I think, with my favorite photograph I have taken since being in South Africa.

This photograph was taken from the moving vehicle I was in on my way back from service earlier this week. It is right off the side of the highway near Philippi (the township I am in Mondays and Tuesdays). For me, there is something so complete and authentic about this picture that sums up a lot of my feelings about South Africa...

    blue skies prevail most days
      green grass intermingles with brown, sandy ground
          are the ever-present fences, barbed wire, gates, and bars on windows keeping something out or               something in?

                the brightest colors can found in some of the darkest places

        home is much more than just a place

           humans are incredibly adaptive

      but should they have to adapt to this?

                     there is an expanse between my bus and that fence

and i must cross it
           i know some of the people who live in places like this
    they have names and faces and families and hopes and dreams

                                              and they want to be happy, just like me

              

I spend a good portion of my time riding in a minibus. A lot of that time we drive through different areas dropping off and picking up my housemates from service sites. Many times I pick a spot next to the window and stare out of it thinking for the whole ride. Wondering how so many people can live in such a small space. How that many people get by with communal water taps and concrete bathrooms. Wondering how the politics and economics of it all works. Wondering how it all happened, how it all came to be. Because most of the time I cannot wrap my mind about the intercomplexities of the whole thing. I ask questions. I see more. I ask more questions. I still do not understand. 

            

          

These densely packed structures made of aluminum, tarps, and sometimes concrete are known as shantytowns or townships. Without going into too much of South Africa's history (that will have to be a whole post in itself), I will briefly try to explain how these groupings of shack dwellers came to be. In short, during apartheid there were specified areas where only certain races were allowed to be. For example, Cape Town was deemed a "white" area, and thus only white South Africans were allowed to live in Cape Town. During this time many black Africans lost their land and were evicted from their homes so that they could be relocated to "suitable" areas with people "of their own kind." However, once apartheid ended in 1994 and people were again able to move freely throughout the country, many traveled to the Western Cape (where I reside now). This area was thought to be rich in resources, economic opportunities, and quality education. However, the people moving to Cape Town did not own land or homes in the area and did not have the financial resources to buy pre-existing homes here. Apartheid had left so many impoverished and disadvantaged. So, groups starting occupying land, building their own shacks, and creating communities. Almost everyone in these communities share communal water taps and communal bathrooms. Electricity is rare and mostly illegaly wired from those fortunate enough to have it. People continue to flock to the Western Cape, but find that the resources cannot accomodate the vast amount of people trying to use them. They find that there really are not that many economic opportunities for unskilled or uneducated workers. They also find that the education system is still disadvantaged, schools are overcrowded, and children are moved through the system without ever reaching standards. There are many wonderful things about Cape Town, but there is also immense, visible, and undeniable poverty. This does not even begin to scratch the surface of the history, context, and explanation for these areas, but it is a start. 

 Because the mornings are the only quiet time in the house, I tend to wake up early, make coffee, and sit with my thoughts for a bit. We also have the paper delivered to our front door every morning, and every couple of days I will read the paper during these early mornings. But I can only handle reading it every couple of days. The pages are riddled with violence, abuse, inadequacy and injustices. Most of the time I have to wait until I have finished my breakfast. I loose my appetite pretty quickly when I read of a 9 year old girl being raped. And then it was an 11 year old girl when she was using a communal bathroom. And then it was a 3 year old girl


      

and i just didn't understand

These things happen, and happen often. Almost always, the people of the townships take justice matters into their own hands. They will kill rapists, criminals, and other perpetrators because the police are not present or effective in the area. Mobs burn shacks, stone individuals, and decide how to deal with the atrocities they face every day together. And while I read about it in the morning paper, it is happening again somewhere else.

No place is perfect. Cape Town is no exception. South Africa is no exception. This is part of the other part of South Africa with which I have been confronted since being here. And it is a vital part of my experience. It's messy, but I want to be in that beautiful mess.