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Langa township
Cape Town, SAToday is highly anticipated by us. On tap is a visit to the townships, the shantytown areas just outside Cape Town.
Breakfast close by, after which are transferred to the care of Godfrey, born and raised in the township of Langa, our destination. He tells us, "So far, you've seen one side of the coin. Now you're going to see the other."
On the drive, Godfrey provides the historical context to the townships. These are the areas where blacks and some coloureds were ghettoized under apartheid. In some cases (such as the case of district 6, discussed yesterday), entire neighbourhoods were moved to the townships. Godfrey also explains the importance of tribal identity, passed on through the father. The majority of blacks in this region are Xhosa. Now, as you may know, the first consonant in the word Xhosa is a click. Godfrey demonstrates the three clicks in the Xhosa language so we can try them out. It's not too difficult to make the sounds themselves; the tricky part is integrating them into fluid speech.
Godfrey also lays out the ground rules for the visit. Although residents are used to visitors from overseas, we must remember we are
guests not visitors to a zoo. We are to stick closely to him and to greet people politely. We're allowed to take pictures of buildings and such, but not of people unless they give permission.
We pull into Langa from highway 7. This highway used to be by law a boundary between the black area (Langa) and a coloured area. Even though the law is gone, this division still remains.
We start with a drive around. On first glance, Langa is a mess. Garbage and broken glass is strewn along the narrow streets. The homes are shacks put haphazardly together from corrugated steel, brick and whatever is at hand. Old tires secure the roofs. Electric wires criss cross from building to building. Barefoot children play in the street using tires, rocks and sticks as toys. Incongruously, fairly new automobiles, some high-end, are everywhere.
Looking a little deeper, there are positive aspects that strike a chord. The residents are decently dressed. People seem generally happy, greeting each other warmly as they walk by. Mothers and siblings are watching over the youngsters. There are some delightful smells coming from nearby kitchens.
Godfrey takes us right inside his family
home. It looks decrepit on the outside but it is neatly kept inside. The rooms are small and sparingly furnished but comfortable. However, it is not much room for an entire family, barely the floor space of our dining room and living room.
Back in the van, Godfrey drives us to a co-op primary school and daycare. Before seeing the children, we meet the director, a wonderful, energetic woman with a broad smile. She expresses delight that we have taken the time to visit the school. Violet and Karen have brought some school supplies, which are grateful received. The main room is decorated with with colourful teaching materials, and in many ways looks just like a kindergarten at home. The kids, aged 1 to 4, are in adjoining rooms, but they are so curious about us that they keep peeking through the door. Finally they are allowed in. They are fascinated by us and our cameras. One little guy is completely entranced by my beard and keeps tugging on it. One little guy basically adopts me and spends the rest of the time in my arms.
After the initial excitement has worn off, the kids sing a number
of songs to us, ending with "If You're Happy and You Know It". Their unbridled enthusiasm has us grinning all the way through.
We reluctantly take our leave. My adopted child cries when I set him down, so I pick him up again and explain that I have to leave now. It's no good; the moment I put him down he starts wailing. I guess he really likes me.
Outside the school we meet Saro, a Langa resident. He takes us on a walking tour through the township. Among the many things he explains is the government renovation program, under which blocks are renovated free-of-charge. The problem is the glacial pace of progress. He shows us one street where one side has been renovated while the other side is crumbling. There is another program called RDP under which the very poor are given simple, brand-new homes. It's another well-intentioned program that, according to Saro, has been bogged down by ineptitude and government inefficiency.
We pay a visit to Saro's own home. Before entering, Saro gives as quick Xhosa language lesson, so we can at least say hello. Like Godfrey's place, it is tiny but comfortable, with optimum
use made of space.
We make two stops to inspect local handicrafts for sale. The vendors are very pleasant and effusively grateful for any purchase. We also drop in on a hair salon where a woman is having her hair painstakingly braided into dreadlocks.
We reach the end of our walking tour and then are taken to lunch at a restaurant named Eziko, right inside Langa. We meet Shirley, who is the cook and maybe the owner. The food is simple but satisfying—and plentiful. After lunch, we bid Saro farewell, and Godfrey returns us to the resort.
It is now about 1:30 pm. We have the rest of the afternoon free to pack for our flight tomorrow. For me, it is an opportunity to catch up on the accursed blog.
At 6, JP picks us and takes us to a "fancy" restaurant at a nearby winery called De Grendel. The sun is setting just as we arrive there and, with mist flowing down from Table Mountain, we are treated to a beautiful sunset. The meal is sublime from start to finish. My favourite dish is actually my appetizer: braised kudu, crispy on the outside and raw
on the inside. The other standout is the wine we choose, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot, Merlot, and Cabernet Franc that the winery calls Rubaiyat. Absolutely outstanding. I definitely eat too much (again). And no, the irony of us enjoying such a sumptuous meal after spending most of the day with people who have so little was not lost on me.
Back home to finish packing and to bed.
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