Johannesburg, the City of Gold, Deprevation, and Hope

---

Hello All!

I am well and truly settled into my third and final country in South Africa. Taylor has arrived and we are currently sitting in our lodge by the waterfront at Port Elizabeth, having flown in yesterday from Johannesburg.

As you could probably tell from the ending of my last blog, I had my reservations about Jo'burg to say the least. And with good reason. I had met plenty travellers in Tanzania and Zambia with more than enough horror stories of being robbed from car windows, muggings in the street, and even being caught between gang shootouts. Having said this, I had also come across enough South Africans that were quick to tell me that the "City of Gold" was not as bad as others made it out to be. Furthermore, Taf, my Zimbabwean university friend that now lived in Johannesburg, also reassured me that the city was safe for the most part, especially the areas that I would be staying in.

During my short taxi ride from the airport, I still felt like I needed more convincing. I was surrounded by derelict factory and warehouse buildings, that were separated by blocks of flats that had seen far better days. Many street corners were littered with homeless people huddled around fires for warmth as the winter night closed in. For anyone that has seen the TV drama The Wire, that was what it looked like, except I was in downtown Johannesburg instead of downtown Baltimore.

My hostel for the next few nights was a place called Curiosity Backpackers, located in the Maboneng Precinct. Maboneng was a trendy and artsy district of only a few blocks, situated deep in downtown Jozi. Some of the empty factories and warehouses in this area had been converted into bars, restaurants, and market spaces. There was even a few shipping containers which had been turned into fashion shops and cocktail bars. Maboneng is Johannesburg's answer to London's Shoreditch, and New York's Meat-Packing District. However, unlike London and New York, if I strayed outside the few blocks that made up Maboneng, then I would be robbed. Signs had been put up inside my hostel dormitory to remind me every day of this fact.

Still, I was in this crazy city to see a good friend of mine, and I was not prepared to confine myself to a couple of blocks as if I was under house arrest. Once I arrived at my hostel, I got in touch with Taf and found out that he resided in Sandton. This was the rich part of the city. In fact, it is the wealthiest district in the whole of Africa (not much competition for that title but impressive nonetheless). In order to save money, I ordered an Uber cab to the nearest Gautrain station which was in the very centre of the city. The Gautrain is the new underground train system in Johannesburg, although it won't rival London anytime soon; it has just two lines which link central Jo'burg with the airport, the northern districts, and Pretoria. My Uber ride was another scary journey through the downtown areas at night; even my driver seemed on edge. As we got closer to our destination, he gave me another nice bit of safety information as he told me that he would have to drop me off a bit further down the road to the actual station entrance because if the normal taxi drivers saw me getting out of an Uber, they would get aggressive and possibly attack the pair of us. This would be a habit that I would quickly grow accustomed to, always getting an Uber out of sight of other cab drivers. It was almost understandable why they would do it; a huge western company had come over, undercut their prices and was therefore taking half their trade. I'm on a budget though so the huge cheap Western corporation is the one for me!

Luckily, the Gautrain was perfectly safe and I managed to get to Sandton for a great evening catching up with Taf and meeting some of his friends, most of whom are also from Zimbabwe. There is quite a large community of them in Johannesburg, as life in Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe is not getting any easier. This would be my routine for the next few days; riding up to Sandton to spend time with my new friends, exploring the nearby shopping mall (where I finally got my first haircut since I left home!), and drinking at the local bars.

On Saturday, Taf took me to Ellis Park to watch the Super 14 semi-final rugby match between the Johannesburg Lions and the Highlanders from New Zealand. The car park was enough of an atmosphere-builder in itself, as hundreds of people braai'd meat (barbecued) just out the back of their cars whilst drinking beer in the glorious South African sunshine. Considering white people were completely outnumbered by black people in Johannesburg, I was surprised to see that every single person at the rugby match was white. Taf and his brothers (who had joined us) were the only ones that I could see there. It was a fine example of how systemically segregated South Africa still is. Whites and blacks tend to keep apart in a lot of aspects of life, and racism is still a huge elephant in the room even though it is no longer as explicit as it was during apartheid. Sadly, I couldn't help but notice how one white girl suddenly moved her handbag to the front of her once she noticed Taf standing behind her in the bar queue.

Despite this, it was a hugely friendly atmosphere in and around the stadium, as it is at rugby matches in the UK. We joked with the people in the seats around us and a few were interested to talk to me in the toilet queue at half-time once they noticed I was an Englishman. I was disappointed to see that the stadium was not filled for such a huge game, but Taf told me that this was because Ellis Park was situated in an area of Johannesburg where a lot of people are too scared to venture. I had now been in Johannesburg long enough where I felt safe in most areas I went to, and had not seen any trouble whatsoever; I therefore was becoming one of the few that believed the fear was often blown out of proportion. The game ended 42-30 to the Johannesburg Lions in an absolute try-fest. The group of us were also completely hammered by this point and headed back to Sandton for a post-game McDonald's and a few more beers in the evening.

The next day, nursing a peach of a hangover, I took a stroll down to the weekly Sunday art and fashion market in Maboneng, called Market on Main. This was a great event that showcased some of the best young artists and designers in Johannesburg. My time of being better dressed than the locals on my Africa trip was now well and truly over. The people here were beautiful, funny, and they made me sick. I was particularly moved by one pop-up store which displayed products from a photography group called "iwasshotinjoburg". What they did was find street children around Johannesburg, train them in using a camera, and give them free reign to take pictures of whatever they wanted. The kids would then receive commission each time one of their pictures were sold; they came in the form of various different products including t-shirts, canvas printings, and coasters. It was a place which painted a very different picture of Johannesburg from what I had heard before.

Once Taylor arrived on Monday, we moved to another hostel called Brown Sugar Backpackers up in the hills of eastern Jo'burg. It was a former mafia house that was built to look castle-like and had great views over the city. To give ourselves some background knowledge on South Africa, we spent our first day together at the apartheid museum. Whilst this is a must-see for anyone that goes to Johannesburg, I must admit that it could have been done better. There was tonnes of information written in essay form all over the place and it was not clear in which direction we should go so that we could read the information in the correct order. Despite this, it was hugely informative and was very striking in places; they had replica solitary confinement cells which political prisoners were place into for months at a time, and one room which displayed the names of every prisoner that died in custody under apartheid had tonnes of nooses hanging from the ceiling. Even at the entrance to the museum, we were randomly assigned to go through either the entrance for "whites" or the entrance for "non-whites". After 4 hours, it was very draining; especially for Taylor who was still jet-lagged. It was vital that we did it though, as it gives us a lot of background into the political and social landscape of South Africa for the rest of our trip.

Our final day there was more relaxing as it was a national public holiday, and the parliament elections were being held so most places were shut. We therefore spent the afternoon exploring the Rosebank district, going into it's arts and crafts market, and shamefully, the local Starbucks which had been opened a few months ago and was the first Starbucks in South Africa. Starbucks, McDonald's, and Uber. I'm further away from home than I've ever been but Western civilization is well and truly swinging; Gandhi said it would be a good idea.

Whilst many would tell you to steer clear of Johannesburg at all costs, I had a rather different experience. The Jozi I saw was one that truly represented much of what South Africa is actually like. In my week there, I was able to learn and experience it's tortured past, the troubled present, and its bright future. Post-apartheid South Africa is only as old as I am, and hence the policy makers and heads of industry here still belong to an era that should no longer exist. However, there is a strong undercurrent of youth here that provide plenty of cause for optimism for the future. The explicit racial divides in South Africa will soon diminish once my generation comes of age; however, systemic racism is a tougher challenge, as America will tell you. Anyways, we are now on the Sunshine Coast, heading towards Cape Town. I will soon update you again how we get on.

---

Photos

Nelson Mandela Square
Taf insisted I behaved like more of a tourist. That meant pushing people out of the way for this photo.

Pre-Game Car Park Atmosphere
Many people were having Braai's out the back of their cars.

Ellis Park
Venue of the famous 1995 Rugby World Cup Final.

Apartheid Museum Entrance
The entrance was harrowing enough

Unsettling Sight
This represented all the political prisoners that were unofficially killed by the state.

Brown Sugar Backpackers
A former Mafia house turned hostel high in the hills of Johannesburg.