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Masiphumelele
In the early hours of 2 May, a fire ripped through Masiphumelele, a township near Fish Hoek. 1500 shacks were completely destroyed, leaving one casualty and almost 5000 displaced. This township is significant because PASSOP has a help desk there. Although the fire was dangerously close, the office was spared as community members poured water by the bucketsful on the office and put out the fire. However, many were not so fortunate.
Today, I visited Masiphumelele and it was an experience I will never forget. I went with Braam, the director of PASSOP and a volunteer from the ANC. We were stopped near the center of the township by a road blockade. When we made our way to see why traffic was blocked, we found a huge truck with sheets of corrugated iron and wooden posts and hundreds of men busy dividing the materials and carrying them every which way. Each person owning a plot of land was entitled to a few wooden posts and five sheets of corrugated iron—hardly enough to build even a meager shack. We wondered on to what should have been a side street to assess the damage and the rebuilding.
It was so surreal. There I stood, among hundreds of South Africans—and foreigners—busy nailing sheets of iron to their wooden foundation. On the ground were the remains of a beautiful community. Mattress springs, charred microwaves, melted piles of what used to be a chain-link fence, pieces of ceramic plates and shards of broken glass lay strewn across the neighbourhood. As we made our way around the debris, we met some of the most amazing people. People, who despite losing all of their worldly belongings, were optimistic about rebuilding and who put their own needs aside to help their neighbours. The strength and solidarity of these people was not only humbling, but inspiring. And I can’t imagine how a similar disaster in my hometown would be handled, especially if the state responded in a similar manner.
This isn’t the first fire Masiphumelele has ever seen; almost every year, there is a fire. The fires spread quickly because of the wind and because of the proximity of the shacks. There are a few roads through the township but getting a firetruck to respond to a fire like the one on 2 May is almost impossible. Braam and I felt that while the shacks were already destroyed, it would be prudent to mark out space for more roads. However, people were eager to rebuild their homes as fast as they could, given the colder temperatures and possibility for rain. There will be another fire and many of these shacks will be destroyed and will have to be rebuilt—it’s just a matter of when.
Fires aren’t the only threats to this community, however. The winter months of May, June, July and August bring lots of rain. Flooding continues to be a problem as many of these shacks don’t have adequate flooring. While the Western Cape province and city of Cape Town provided the materials for roofs and walls, wouldn’t it be prudent to supply the shack dwellers with cement or at the very least, some type of plastic to lessen the damage caused by flooding?
One thing that I didn’t see however, was toilets. There were no toilets anywhere, just a dirty canal that bisected the township. I saw women filling buckets from this canal, despite the obvious filth—there were all kinds of trash polluting this stream. Without proper sanitation, disease spreads fast, and with winter fast approaching, bacterial epidemics are the last thing that the community of Masiphumelele needs.
As we walked around the neighbourhood, Braam reminded me that only 17 short years ago, during apartheid, there were no parks for the children to play in, no streetlights, no electricity in fact, no running water. As shocked as I was the first time I walked through a township, this was doubly as shocking. I could not imagine living in such conditions. For as much as the South African government is criticized for being inefficient, the progress they have made in 17 years is astounding.
I was also shocked by how politicized the rebuilding was. As municipal elections are only a few weeks away, both the ANC (African National Congress) and the DA (Democratic Alliance) seemed to be in competition for who could provide more resources and assistance. To me, it seemed appalling that it should be so political, but then again, isn’t everything the government does politicized? Every service the government offers, every policy they create, every action they take—it’s all politicized.
Today was a day that I’ll never forget. Walking around the ashes and miscellaneous debris created a sense of helplessness, and reminded me of how much I take for granted. I was also humbled and inspired by the people I met. Despite losing all of their worldly possessions, these people persevered. As one woman put it, “All we can do is rebuild our lives and move forward.”
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Zimbabwean Dispensation Project
In September 2010, the South African Department of Home Affairs (DHA) launched a programme the “Zimbabwean Dispensation Project” (ZDP) that would allow undocumented Zimbabweans living in South Africa the chance to apply for 4-year work, study or business permits. Because passports were needed to process permit applications, Zimbabweans were also allowed to apply for passports. In only three months, the DHA received 275,762 applications. While the application process was relatively successful in the offices that PASSOP monitored, the dispensation of said permits and passports was not.
Originally the permits and passports were meant only to be collected in Johannesburg. After charging R750 (about $110 USD) for the application, a journey to Johannesburg would have been financially impossible for many of the applicants. PASSOP and other groups lobbied the DHA and persuaded them to deliver the passports to Cape Town. They would only be delivered on three days: 28, 29, 30 April (Thursday, Friday and Saturday).
On Friday, I was asked to help monitor the dispensation of passports. When I got to Bellville, I could see hundreds of people everywhere. The Zimbabwean Consulate representatives were hidden within the confines of the DHA office and people were haphazardly gathered around the gates of the office, waiting to hear their names called. The Consulate representatives were calling out names in alphabetical order, or so I heard from the people I talked to (I never actually heard any name calling myself), but moving at an absurdly slow pace. As of 2:30pm on the second day, they had only made it through the alphabet once and were on ‘M’.
It seemed to be the most inefficient system, as hundreds of people waited patiently in confusion over whether they had missed their name or whether they would go through the names one more time. I spoke with one man who had been told via text to come collect his passport between 29-30 April, but his name had been called on the 28th so he had no idea whether it was worth it to wait until Saturday. I noticed right away that a group of women with their babies strapped to their backs standing across the street under some trees. When I asked why they were standing part from the men, they replied that they were seeking shelter from the rain and were protecting their babies from any harm that might occur where the men were standing. Many of them had been standing, with their babies on their backs for hours on end, with no chairs or benches in sight. Even worse, they had no way of knowing what names were being called. Although most of the women had brothers or husbands with them, several had come alone and relied on hearsay about what names they were calling.
Many people approached my colleagues and myself to ask for letters confirming that they were waiting for the passports, as many of their jobs depended on it. I met another man from Swellendorp (about 2 hours away via car) who had spent the night in the parking lot and was debating spending a second night to wait for his name to be called on Saturday. He informed me, however, that he would surely be fired for being gone so long and, with his phone battery already flat, he had no way of calling his boss, or even his family.
Rumours of bribery and corruption were rampant as several people told me that they had been helped sooner because they had paid off a representative. Sadly, I also heard people say they had paid someone to get their passport only to find that they had been cheated. Others told me they had seen other people sneak into the office to get their passports before their names had been called. There was mass confusion as to what would happen with the leftover passports. Would the representatives take them back to the Johannesburg office? Would they come back after the weekend? Would they leave the passports at the DHA office here?
Even worse, there was a man named Normal Kujinga, who, after being told to move further back in the line, got in an argument with security guards. He was beaten with a stick and was handcuffed to a pole for four hours after waiting in line to secure his childrens’ passports for three days.
I was appalled at the inefficiency of the representatives and of the DHA. There was no loud speaker to address the crowd to explain the process. There was no loud speaker to call out names and there was no one to answer questions or address concerns of the Zimbabweans. The rate to which they were helping people was unacceptably slow. It was so sad to see that even in South Africa, these Zimbabweans had to deal with Zimbabwe’s incompetence.
After three days of dispensing passports, only a fraction of the passports destined for Cape Town were delivered. The rest were sent to Johannesburg. I wonder how many of them lost their jobs, and how many of the R750 passports will ever be claimed.
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PASSOP
For the last few months, I have been interning with a local organization called PASSOP (People Against Suffering, Suppression, Oppression, and Poverty). Founded a few years ago by Braam Hanekom, PASSOP serves as a grassroots NGO dedicated to protecting and lobbying for the rights of foreigners in South Africa. In my time at PASSOP, I’ve learned so much not only about the crises in Zimbabwe and other neighbouring countries, about the struggles foreigners in South Africa face, but also about how civil society works with and against the government here in South Africa.
In April, I helped write a proposal for a education project similar to what I did for Amnesty International, whereby PASSOP staff members would be teaching local high school students about cultural identity, cultural diversity, and xenophobia. The goal of this project is to foster understanding and tolerance in youth to prevent a future breakout of xenophobic violence here in South Africa. Given the political and economic situation in many African countries (specifically: Zimbabwe, DR Congo, Somalia, Angola and Malawi), South Africa has become the point of refuge for hundreds of thousands of refugees, asylum seekers and immigrants. For South Africans struggling to find jobs and provide for themselves and their families, foreigners who hold jobs are often held in contempt. And so the process goes—stereotypes form, prejudices grow and xenophobia builds and violence occurs.
The most recent example of xenophobic violence was in May of 2008. It began with several riots in a township near Johannesburg which spread across South Africa, leaving 62 dead, several hundred injured and forced many foreigners to return to their home countries.
PASSOP also has two help desks, one in Imizamo Yethu, a township in Hout Bay and one in Masiphumelele, a township in Fish Hoek. These help desks offer paralegal advice to both foreigners and South Africans who have labour or documentation concerns offer a free CVs (resumes) writing service for those seeking jobs. Many of these people have limited access to computers and printers, so creating a CV is difficult. I’ve spent my fair share of time writing up CVs and although it can be tedious, it’s rewarding knowing how much having a CV can help someone find a job. We also give out questionnaires to both foreigners and South Africans to gauge xenophobic sentiments in the townships.
I have met some truly incredible people and I am incredibly grateful for the opportunities I have had working at PASSOP. This experience so far has definitely added a new perspective to my understanding of human rights and social justice and continues to remind me of why I am so passionate about this issue.
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So, as cheesy as it may sound, this song could not be more perfect. I’ve heard this song so many times and every time, Africans get so excited. It’s a beautiful thing. And even though I’m not African, clearly, this song makes me so happy. I am so happy to be here.
OH. I can see one of World Cup stadiums from upper campus. And we’re going to a soccer game tomorrow!
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SA slang
braai barbeque
howzit? hey, what’s up?
bru bro
china mate
chunder vomit (my absolute favorite new word)
loose drunk
louse wayy drunk
lekker delicious
chips fries
crisps chips
plasters bandaids
bakkies trucks
tekkies tennis shoes
boot trunk
lift elevator
pudding dessert
prawns shrimp
lead extension cord
cozzi swimsuit
robot traffic light
just now sometime in the near future
now now now, relatively
hectic insane, like inception insane
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A day in the life
DRIVING
South Africa is home to some of the craziest drivers I’ve ever seen. Crosswalks are useless and pedestrians never have the right of way. Which is bad news for me because I have an unfortunate habit of forgetting to look before I cross the street. This is especially bad news for me since they drive on the other side of the road, which means that I have had to get used to looking the other direction for oncoming traffic. I have only almost gotten run over about four times, so hopefully I’ll survive the next four months. But, South African drivers are really nice about driving on the shoulder when they’re going slower than traffic, which makes it really easy to pass them. In the short time that I drove here, they seemed very courteous in that respect. I might add, that driving on the left side of the road really isn’t that strange after the first few minutes.
FOOD
South Africans love chicken mayo. Seriously, you can find toasted chicken mayo sandwiches with a variety of toppings almost anywhere. It’s basically chicken salad, which means it goes with cheese, avo (not avocado, just avo), salsa, all kinds of vegetables and sauces. There’s a sandwich stand—Souper Sandwich—on Upper Campus that has the most delicious toasted sandwiches and subs, for R20 or about $3. Keeping with the theme of diversity, they also have a lot of Indian, Chinese, Thai and pizza restaurants too. I’ve also already found a good Tex Mex place to kinda satisfy my cravings for La Caretta…kinda. They also have KFCs (they seriously love their chicken) and McDonalds. But generally, the food here isn’t all that different so I don’t miss food from home as much as I thought I would. I will say though, the other night, my host-siblings Kiki and Alex and I made southern fried chicken, mac-n-cheese and green beans for dinner and an apple crisp for dessert. My hostfamily absolutely loved the meal, and it was great to have a little bit of home for dinner.
SCHOOL
The University of Cape Town is seriously one of the most beautiful schools I’ve ever seen. The way that it’s situated on the base of Table Mountain means that almost anywhere on campus, there’s a gorgeous view of either the mountain itself or the town below. UCT’s location on the base of a mountain also means that getting from Lower Campus to Middle Campus to Upper Campus is a hike. Literally. Thank god for the Jammies, which are shuttles that go not only between campuses, but also to different suburbs, like Claremont, where you can find the Cavendish Mall, Hiddingh Hall, which is basically free transportation to downtown Cape Town, and to Mowbray, where I live. The Jammies are super convenient, but they are always packed, hence the name Jammie.
So far, I really like UCT. I like my classes and my Professors a lot. I decided to add a new class, War and Society to my schedule and so far I really like it. Taking four classes takes up a lot of time though. They do classes by periods, just like high school. And each class meets anywhere from 3-5 times a week during the assigned period for lectures and tutorials. I have yet to go to my first tutorial, but apparently it’s more of a discussion group. So because I’m taking four classes, which happen to be during first period, third period, fifth period and sixth period, I have a lot of awkward hour-long breaks. They’ll be nice later in the semester when I actually have homework to do, but for now, they’re just awkward.
Being an international student is kind of strange though. While I’m really glad CIEE had us come a few weeks early for orientation and that I got to meet a lot of great people, I want to meet more South Africans. I’ve met a few in my classes so far but I’m hoping that as the semester moves a long and when I get involved in some societies, I’ll meet some more. I’m so glad English is the common language here, but there have a been a couple times in just the first few classes that Professors have made jokes I didn’t understand or have referenced a particular politician or recent event that I also didn’t understand. But the students here are really friendly, so that helps. It’s weird to be in the minority; I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that before. I was talking to my hostbrother Tim and he was explaining how universities get more federal grants for having a more racially diverse population and also, because of affirmative action, it’s much harder for whites to get into good schools than it is for blacks and coloureds. That’s not to say, though, that blacks and coloureds don’t have to work as hard.
In the three weeks that I’ve been here, the thing that I’ve noticed most is the many juxtapositions that exist here. The juxtaposition of traditional and modern—in a cultural sense, European and African, old and new and rich and poor. In the span of a twenty-minute drive around Cape Town, you can drive passed million-Rand houses tucked up in the hills of Camps Bay and townships spilling over highways. Parts of downtown Cape Town are strangely reminiscent of a European city, with identical architecture and European-sounding street names. Downtown Cape Town also houses a lot of markets for African crafts and wares, but also very European cafes, for gelato and pizza. The diversity of languages spoken here are also testament to the complexities of South Africa. English, Afrikaans, isiXhosa, Zulu and dozens more can all be heard on any given day. Many road signs are in English and Afrikaans and some signs are even in isiXhosa. I like listening to isiXhosa the best though, because I like the clicks :)
I’ve come to expect everything and be surprised at nothing when it comes to this town. And how very strange it may be, this city has stolen my heart.
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24 hours until CAPE TOWN
In exactly 24 hours, I will board my plane to Cape Town. I haven’t exactly packed yet and there’s still so much to do on my to do list. Speaking of packing, how do you fit an entire semester’s worth of clothes into one suitcase?! Although, I am German and by default, a worldclass traveler and packer, I am struggling. So clearly, this is the best use of my time.
Tomorrow I begin my journey in South Africa. For the last two years, I’ve been dreaming of the day I I go to Africa and it’s finally here. I’m scared, I’m excited, I’m nervous, I’m so happy. This week has been full of lasts: last breakfast, last dinner, last lunch, last night in D.C., etc.. but I can’t wait for a week of firsts. I can’t wait to step foot in Africa. I can’t wait for my first South African meal. I can’t wait for the beach and for the penguins! I can’t wait to meet other students at University of Cape Town. And I can’t wait to learn everything—to absorb everything.
Here’s my itinerary:
23-24 January 9:51pm to 11:40am Washington, DC to Frankfurt, Germany
24 January 11:40am to 10:50pm Gott sei Dank dass Ich Deutsch spreche
24-25 January 10:50pm to 10:55am Frankfurt, Germany to CAPE TOWN!
Oh, I am so excited!
2011
So. It’s New Year’s Eve. Which means that in 26 days, I will be in Cape Town, South Africa. Woah.
2010 was so good to me. I had the most amazing internship I ever could have asked for. I learned so much about the conflict in the Congo and grew as an activist. I founded a new club called Empower Congo and I helped American University become conflict-free. I fell in love. I met some of the coolest people ever. And I was happy.
I’m still getting stuff together for my Visa. I haven’t even begun to think about packing and I still have a couple things to sign off on. There is so much to do still unchecked in my planner it’s almost overwhelming, but I am beyond excited for this upcoming journey and I know that it will change my life completely. I cannot wait to see all the beauty and wonder that South Africa holds. There is so much I have yet to learn—about Africa, activism, and life. I know this experience will be the start of a journey full of surprises, up and downs and I cannot wait for it to begin.
I hope that 2011 is just as wonderful.
