Nicole's realization she is right where she is supposed to be

Cape Town, We Have Finally Arrived

Brandi & Nicole arriving at CPT airport

So far we have seen what any tourist would see when they have come to Cape Town. We have heard the stories and witnessed poverty, and these are things that make us feel grateful for what we have. Today, however, went a step further. Today my friends and I began to grasp why we are on this trip. 

I knew today was going to be powerful; we were taking a tour through the townships. For anyone who doesn’t know, the townships are the areas people were forced to move into by the government during Apartheid. They were segregated based on whether they were Colored, African, and Indian, and based on the class. Some are government sanctioned housing which are definitely not ideal to live in, but then you see the informal housing that were created by the people, it makes the government housing look much more desirable. Anyways, our first stop was in Bridgetown where Vernon grew up. 

Vernon's mom outside her home in Bridgetown

Six people slept in the same room and the houses were very small. Some houses were more rundown than others, but as we got to other areas like Guguletu and Khayelitsha, the houses grew even smaller and more run down. But before we went to those places, we stopped in Langa, where we bought crafts (the source of people’s income). The group of us also played the drums and other instruments and sang to an African beat. It was extremely fun, but we had a lot ahead of us. 

The houses got dirtier and sadder. They are all brightly colored, but trash is everywhere and the houses are extremely close together. There is graffiti everywhere and many shops in the area are little shacks. Many people are around during the day because so many are unemployed. There are  stray dogs and the roofs are made of asbestos. We went to the monument of the Guguletu Seven, which is made in honor of the seven people that were dragged out of their cars and shot in the middle of the road for being apart of resistance to Apartheid. 

Vernon tells group the story of the Guguletu Seven

We then saw another monument for a woman named Amy Biehl. The story I was told about her literally gave me chills down my spine. "On 25 August 1993, Amy Biehl’s life was tragically cut short in an act of political mob violence in the Guguletu Township outside of Cape Town." The story does not end there though. As one can imagine, it caused great pain and suffering for her family. But, her mother was still willing to talk to two men that had killed her daughter that asked for forgiveness. They had a change of heart and mind and devoted their entire lives to laying the groundwork to a foundation in her name. Today both her mother and these men are a part of the Amy Biehl Foundation, and she granted them forgiveness. It is the perfect story of reconciliation, and men trying to make right to what had been terribly wrong.

It is important to realize how separated these townships are. Just crossing the highway there is a completely different set of houses. Some are for those known as African, who were not considered citizens during Apartheid. They had to carry passes with them and were treated as less than the colored people. Thinking already that the day was emotional,  we went to the building of the Treatment Action Campaign in Khayelisha. I was blessed to have been sitting around a table with such amazing people. I was in the building of the biggest foundation for AIDS in the entire continent of Africa. Here we learned AIDS is prevalent in 30% of the area we were in, and on top of it they were also suffering from about 40% unemployment, poor infrastructure, and crime. On top of it, less than 1% of people have the money for medical aid. This foundation fights for everything but mainly focuses on AIDS. The biggest thing I got away from this meeting was that awareness and education is crucial. Without it, people were in denial and the disease only spread more. There are even some areas in Africa where people believe having sex with a virgin can cure AIDS. But there are also many strong, determined people who want to see an end to this awful disease.

Mall in Michells Plain where we had lunch

We took a quick break to eat lunch at the mall, where it appeared to me that people stared because we were obviously foreign and seemingly the only white people in the mall. After, we went to the Elonwabeni Home in Mitchells Plain. This is a place where children who are affected by HIV, have parents with HIV, or are affected by drugs within their family, come and spend the majority of their time. There they are taken care of by wonderful people who act like one big family. The program works closely with families to fix any underlying problems to allow children to go back home to be with their families. While there, the mothers of the children make crafts to sell. They are beautifully beaded crafts, like elephants, penguins, angels and key chains, and the money goes directly to the families with children with AIDS. Of course we all bought a bunch of crafts (and maybe a few presents for special people J). The time spent there was amazing. We were introduced to some of the workers and then spent time with the children. We played games and let them take pictures with our cameras. We even played the equivalent of Lover’s leap with the children, and sang songs about Kentucky fried chicken and McDonalds. They seemed to be no different than the children I teach gymnastics to every day, and no one could distinguish which children were infected by AIDS. We all enjoyed ourselves and left feeling like we had done something special. 

It was not until we arrived home for a house meeting that our view of that special moment was flipped upside down.  We had been so wrapped up in the children that many of us did not notice that one of our friends had been crying. We figured she did not feel good, until Marita, our professor and amazing coordinator for our program, called an urgent house meeting. It was there (after the majority had described how wonderful it had been to play with all the children) we learned that the two black women in our group had a completely different experience than we did. While most of us were there, children ran up to us and let us pick them up. They touched our hair and had no problem interacting. However, they would not go to the two black women in our group. 

Nicole & Brandi at Elonwabeni with a few of the children

Although the children shared skin colors with our two classmates, they did not want to be near them. This hurt our friends badly, and as a group we had to talk it through. Our friend said it not only hurt her that the children did not want to come near her, but it hurt her that she was a reflection of themselves, and they did not like what they saw. They were so interested by the color of our skin, and wanted nothing to do with our black friends. They ignored them and would not reach for them or play with them. 

Many of us cried for the fact that at such a young age, it was so deeply engrained in these beautiful children that black was not beautiful. We hated that we were not aware, and hated that because of the color of our friends skin they could not have the same experience we did. And we hated that the children were not even conscious of the racism they themselves possessed. We agreed that while many people like to say racism no longer exists or talking about it is not important, it is something that needs to be made conscious and changed. And, it was present in places where we assumed their little media or influences from outsiders. 

It brought to light how people are still so affected by this when in our own country it is not talked about. It made many of us ashamed and not want to go back to our lives where we joke casually or are surrounded by this discrimination without even realizing it. It is very much present, and is adding a whole new perspective to our experience here. However, it made us closer as a group. Many of us cried for the fact that our friends could not feel how happy we had felt at the time, or that we were blind to it. 

Some admitted they were homesick and cried, and others were just so thankful that our two friends were willing to share this story with us. I was also very humbled. There I was, thinking I was excellent with kids, when some of it could simply be credited to the fact that I was white. I do not want to have happy or sad experienced based on the color of my skin, I want to be judged by my character. We realized that as sad as we were feeling, we talked about our emotions. It is so important to be open with how we feel, because if it is not talked about, it cannot be fixed. When we close off how we feel or are unaware of it, we are denying ourselves the opportunity to change what is wrong. It is okay to feel. We were so close in that moment and there for each other, and once again I was reminded I was right where I was supposed to be, learning how to make a change.

                     

Nicole in Guguletu

Nicole at Moyo