Friday - a day to think, finally

The plan for today was to have class in the morning, with me as “lecturer”, and then go to Robben Island which during apartheid served as a prison for political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela. Well, the boats don’t go in bad weather, which we were faced with first thing this morning. Of course by afternoon, it was gorgeous, but the boats had all been cancelled. We will try to go in our third week.

Marc went to Greenmarket Square during our class time and came back with many souvenirs and gifts for our family. While he did this, I fascinated discussion with our group. Again, Minnesotans, be proud of your students. They are deep thinkers, good debaters, and respectful both of each other and the culture we are surrounded by here. You can read their blogs – although they are also funny and written with 20-year-old eyes and humor, they are also very insightful.

Part of our preparation today was for Guguletu, and getting to know the people there. We felt this morning like we hadn’t really had enough contact with the people of Cape Town, and that perhaps because of our group size we have not been open to meeting others, and have perhaps intimidated others into getting to know us. We also talked about what is different from home, and how this place is not what most Americans would picture as “Africa” – no savannah, no huts, no elephants. This place is rocky and green, not wide open and brown. It also has some very distinctly European flavors to it and people of many heritages. This is really an interesting crossroads of the world and I encourage everyone, EVERYONE to visit! Yes, we’ve only seen the touristy side (and are excited for tomorrow’s safari!) and I have made fun of the tourist side, but still, it is worth visiting as a tourist just the same

A few observations of how things are “different” here:

The cabs – there is such a thing as a cab as we know it in the states (here it is called a metered cab), but there are also minivans that drive here with the door open, shouting out the destination and whistling to see if you want a ride. You pay depending on how far you go on their route. It’s sort of like a bus in that there is only a route, and you ride with others. But it looks treacherous and they are constantly honking and yelling as you walk along Main Road (the, uh, main road between where I stay and the students stay).

Traffic lights are called robots. This is good to know when getting directions from someone. Then when they say “turn left at the second robot” you’re not looking for R2D2 or C3PO.

Nothing ever dries here. Not the towels, not your hair, not yourself when you wear jeans on a boat ride and get soaked. But I haven’t needed hand lotion since getting off the plane.

Some of my thoughts (some that the students share as well) as we head into a week in the township:

I have never had dinner in the home of a black person and now I am going to stay with one. This is hard for me to admit, perhaps because it shows how sheltered I have been or shows how closed off I have been to such invitations. I am not sure if I have ever had a black person as a guest in my home. Is it a product of my mostly-white surroundings or of my lack of openness to getting to know people of races other than my own?

I teach a class related to poverty in America. What am I going to see here that is different from that? Poverty in America is often a product of both system failures and the basics of capitalism, which has by design some winners and some losers. What is poverty here – is it lack of opportunity for work, lack of education, laziness? Does it mean not having a floor? Not owning a car? Not having a job? Would a “poor” American be considered poor if he/she lived here?

We’re told by the people who come here last year were angered, saddened and frustrated about what they saw, all at different times and in different ways. What will those ways be for me? I have already cried a few times, just thinking about it (no surprise to my friends at home; I am an easy cry). Will I lose it completely and bawl my eyes out to the extent of making others uncomfortable?!

And mostly, how will I be changed by all this?

Thanks for reading. I really appreciate all the comments, Facebook notes, emails. I want so much to share this with everyone and love hearing that my writing has not gone unread.