Just a comment

Posted by Janine
I hope that Mikkel's examples gave you, brave readers :-), a sense of the 'unease' we often feel here in South Africa. We don't fit into the surroundings of the (poor) people in the townships. But at the same time, we don't fit in with the white rich either, at least not without feeling uneasy about it! Somehow this country and its past make it harder to enjoy certain things -and luxuries- without a feeling of guilt. This gets worse by the fact that white South Africans (and tourists!) do not always seem to have this unease...

Different Worlds

Posted by Mikkel
Hi there everyone. Hope you are doing well and a big “thank you” for all the positive comments to this sight. This time I didn’t really know where to start…so any kind of suggestions on what you want us to write about next time are warmly welcomed. For now I’ll try to give you an idea of our life here, exemplified by two different parties: one a football gathering with my new team mates and the other a traditional African party in Guguleto township.

Last week my football team (“Team Evil”) secured promotion by winning 3-2 in one of the last matches of the season. It was a Wednesday so no big celebration was called for, but half of the team gathered at a team mate’s house situated on the hill overlooking the center and harbour of Cape Town. We ordered pizza and had a couple of beers while talking and watching CL football. I would have liked to show you photos, but Erick brought me straight from the football pitch to his house. An interesting ride by the way due to the combination of his new ‘Mini’ and his Schumacher tendencies! It did become a rather weird gathering though. Two guys went to another room where the playstation was set up and three guys took out their laptops and started chatting and emailing. A few other people were smoking on the balcony. Two of them had been to the World Cup in Germany and they showed me some of their photos from the trip.

The second party was in the township of Guguleto. An African party is not just a party in Africa. It is a traditional party honouring the ancestors and held on rare occasions. In our particular case it was at Mlamni’s place in Guguleto. His mother had decided that it was time to honour the ancestors and in particular her own mother who had died 11 years ago. This African party included African beer (the most positive thing I can say about African beer is that it doesn’t really resemble beer, see for yourself!), food, greetings to the ancestors, more African beer, brandy, more greetings, more African beer, more brandy again, normal beer and whatever other kind of drink that materialized…and more of it! The guests (a mix of family, neighbours, friends and whoever happened to come by) were divided according to age (and respect) and gender. The women were inside the house; the older respected men – the elders - in a small circle of ad-hoc benches in the backyard (se photo at top) and the younger men in another group next to the elders. In the front there seemed to be a left-over crowd of young people but since I ended up with the elders I would not know so much about who and what went on there.

I was being seated with the elders, which caused some raised eye brows from the younger men [read: my age] in the other circle. One guy was even a bit aggressive until I managed to let him know that I was a visitor from Denmark, that I felt very honoured and privileged to sit with the elders and that I was definitely not a white South African. He knew Peter Schmeichel and I explained how Zuma scored the best goal in the Danish league in 2003…and everything was OK!

All across the world older people seem to be complaining about the “youth of today”…this seems to be the case also in South Africa: According to the elders the youngsters sitting just next to us (se photo) were “disrespectful”; they were “gangsters and robbers” and they were “careless about the old ways.” While the elders were telling me this in one ear, the young men were telling my other ear that the elders were grumpy old men and that I should come and sit with them!

In between all the drinks several of the elders were kind to tell me all about the rituals, what they said when they greeted the ancestors, what made someone an elder, how I was supposed to do if I did not want to drink when it was my turn (a very useful piece of knowledge that I could have used earlier!) and much more. The neighbour’s son who was around my age, but (like everyone else in Guguleto) still lived at home went to find his world map so I could point out Denmark to him. He told me how he liked looking at the map, planning where he wanted to go “one day”. He had no clue if he would ever succeed, but the will was definitely there.

People got drunk and became more and more rough and even slightly abusive (so I heard from Mette and Janine). Suddenly one guy asks if I know that he is a singer. Before I can answer he has already begun his song constantly looking at me. After two minutes of singing he tells me that he wrote the song himself and demands my opinion: do I think he can make a career as a singer? The party started around two in the afternoon, we left around six and although I really enjoyed the party, it was also a great relief to leave all these drunk, loud, and rough “brothers and comrades” behind.

Why am I telling you all this? I hope these two parties can give you an idea of some of the different worlds we are part of here. And somehow I must admit that I do not feel completely at home in neither of the places. In the township people are warm, open and welcoming, but they also give me the urge to justify or excuse my own situation. I explain that it was a very cheap car we bought, that we were so lucky to rent the house we are living in and that my university gave me a grant that made it possible for me to come here. When the neighbour at the African party showed me the places on the map he wanted to visit, he highlighted South America, USA and Australia…as you can guess I did not respond with a “been there done that!” And just as much as the people in the township are warm and welcoming they are also very much in your face, constantly grapping or addressing you in order to tell you something about their life.

And with the people from football (who all happens to be white by the way…just if you hadn’t already guessed that) we talked about the last time they went to Europe. How one guy had only had 2 days in Prague, but planned to stay longer next time. We talked about what a great house it was, and how we are going to have pool parties in his garden when the summer sets in. We talked about music, Champions League, girlfriends and the jobs the guys are having. All of it stuff I can definitely relate to. But most of the time, people were busy watching television, playing play-station or chatting on their computer. To some extent, so I admit, I was bored.

I also keep having this uneasiness about the way they take their lifestyle for granted (just as much as I do in Denmark). I don’t know what I expected; perhaps some sense of recognition of the privileges they still enjoy due to past injustices? Actually I don’t know anymore. Is it really fair that I want South Africans whites of my age to walk around feeling bad for owning a car, having a good education and living in a nice house?

I think you had more than enough now so I leave you (and myself) with these questions...

Afrikaans

posted by Janine

Vandaag tijd voor een paar alledaagse Afrikaanse uitdrukkingtjies:

Het spijt me: "Ek is jammer"
Zelden: "Nie baie keer nie"
snack: "peuselhappie"
sandwich: "toebroodjie"
grappig: "koddig"


Krantekop luidt: " Idol te vet om te sing."

En de aanwijzingen bij die robot (stoplicht) :
- Druk knoppie.
- Wag tot verkeer staan.
- Loop vinnig deur.
Het kan nooit te duidelijk zijn, toch?

Later meer!
Mooi loop,
janine

A taste of action

posted by Janine

I want to comment on the pictures that Mikkel posted of these lovely big ladies and excited men. These were people demonstrating last week on the 'Global Day of Action', a day of protest organised by TAC (Treatment Action Campaign) -the organisation I'm working at.

It turns out that I got here at a very interesting moment: TAC is quite an 'activist' organisation but this is the first time since 2004 that there's so much action going on. They are mobilising people, getting on the streets and even getting arrested and sprayed with pepperspray by the police! (just for the record: I was there but just as a witness).

The protests are all about the Minister of Health who should be fired because she is:

• letting prisoners die of Aids due to a lack of treatment

• responsible for a country with the most people with HIV/Aids in the world, without having an actual, coherent plan to do something about it,

• pretending that beetroot, garlic and lemon can cure or prevent Aids!

So that's why we were demonstrating. In the days leading up to the event, the other volunteers and me were running around faxing and calling the press to make sure these protests would get the attention they needed. The results have been good: TAC has been in the news(papers) almost everyday last week! And yes, I even made it to the 7 o'clock news myself...

Other than that I am a lousy activist. I am a sissy 'cause I notice that I'm used to things being comfortable and taken care of. Instead of standing 'on the barricades' a whole day, blaming the Health Minister for spending her time drinking cappuchinos, I caught myself longing for a cup of coffee in a warm place myself!

This is seriously wrong, when you know and see how people keep on singing, yelling, marching and dancing with a non-stop flow of energy. It's where the spirit of the Apartheid-struggle shows itself: in the old days, people used to demonstrate and march for tens of miles, sometimes without food and in terrible weather conditions. Just because they had a mission. Now it's not that different, there's just another mission: getting rid of HIV/Aids. I need to learn something from that. No more cappuchinos... Let's get the spirit!