Soweto & Apartheid Museum...& lost in Jo'burg

Getting ready to leave in the morning - on my bed...so excited! Until we got lost. And then lost again. And one more time.

First of all, getting lost once is a humbling experience in itself. However, we got lost three times. Everytime I thought we were finding our way, I would absolutely rejoice, my heart would be light, I would be so thankful and we would committ to our path. Then, one slip of the road and back to being completely and utterly lost. Soooo lost. The 2nd time we got lost, we found ourselves entering a kind of industrial area. That led us to the busy streets of a township in Jo'burg, I couldn't even tell you which one. But lets say, it was frightening. Tony & Mary won't even let volunteers take the car into certain areas of Jo'burg because the crime is so bad and I was smack dab in the middle of those areas!! There were streams of people all around the car. Very, very easy for someone to rip open the door or put an elbow through the window. However, it was early in the morning and we were driving in a very inconspicuous car...and I don't want to worry anyone or make it out to be this horrible place. It's just like getting lost in a bad neighbourhood in one of the largest cities in the world, adding to that the fact that we were unfamiliar with the whole place, PLUS I was freaking out thinking we were going to miss the tour, it wasn't pretty. Haha I look back now and laugh, we did afterwards too, but at the time it didn't seem too funny. I wish I would've taken a few pictures now, but I was too scared to grab my camera!!!

Finally we made it. They waited over an hour for us and when we got there, the tour guide was soooo friendly still. Sooo not how it would've been in America or Canada. We would've been left ages ago! This is the beautiful hotel we met at...there was another beside it that looked like a castle. Kind of weird place to start the tour, but okay.


Our guides name was Sipho (or something to that extent) and he was a young member of the Zulu tribe. He told us all about the history of SA on the way to Soweto, our first stop. 11 official languages, 9 provinces (I'm in the Gauteng province which meant "place of gold" and Johannesburg was "city of gold"). The whole history of Jo'burg is that it was a regular South African area, until gold was found here...then all kinds of Europeans immigrated here, especially the Dutch, who began Apartheid. They speak Afrikaan, one of the official languages. Black Africans were then spread out to rural areas, not allowed to own land anywhere but Sophiatown, not allowed to enter the same doors as the white, not allowed to go on the same beaches, frequent the same bars, etc. And so Apartheid or White Supremacy, began there (gag me). Anyways, our first stop, Soweto, was where they pushed all of the Black too after the white wanted to develop Sophiatown. It means the "Southern Western Township" but is nicknamed "So Where To?" because they were being pushed there by the white. It's where Nelson Mandela lived for many years. It's also where ArchBishop Desmond Tutu lived (his son still does, we saw his house), and it's still home to Winnie Mandela. It is by far my favourite place I've seen since arriving here. Basically, there is the "rich area" (that is home to 23 millionaires)...which are average houses in our society. Then there are hostels where the miners worked, women and children weren't allowed there, so they were occupied solely by men, didn't have working toilets, etc. Then there are rows and rows of tin shanties, with absolutely no electricity, no running water and all the rest.

This is in the middle of the Soweto markets where they house a huge stone that has the Bill of Rights or Freedom Charter chisled into it. There was a traditional African man playing the recorder through his nose there.

Streets of Soweto:

Although I was sad to see so much poverty, you can't help but be in awe of the people. The markets, even the streets, were teaming with jubilant, excited people, like I said before, children danced right on the street in traditional tribal uniforms and regular clothes. The air was filled with excitement and something so proud. Also, they have 150 deaths per week there. PER WEEK. And most due to Aids/HIV. Sipho told us that everyday there would be huge funeral processions, because people care so much about the community. It's like the community is one big family. If there's a death, they're properly given a beautiful ceremony and funeral procession. So it's always very busy, with that high average of deaths occuring per week.

I fell in love this man, he was on the street.

And these kids:

So, we first visited the Hector Pieterson Memorial. Let me tell you, this story is absolutely heartwrenching.

In June, 1976, thousands of students met to talk about the way they were being taught - in Afrikaan (which is the Dutch, white language in Africa and goes along with white supremacy and therefore apartheid). They were very unhappy. So they elected a committee (and this is the part I love. They don't just vent on facebook about it. They elect a freakin' committee and get organized) and organized what was supposed to be a non-violent protest march on June 16th. When June 16th came, they began their march to Orlando stadium in the middle of Soweto. Cops were all around, and everything seemed okay. Then they got nervous and one cop threw a stone into the crowd. In that minute, everything changed...shots were fired all over the place and pandemodium and violence broke out. The very first fatality was 13 year old Hector Pieterson, who was simply walking home from school and got caught in the cross fire. In that moment, a helpful friend scooped him up to carry him to safety and his sister walked alongside them, in pure agony. They have a treeline that is planted from the spot he was shot, through town, to this memorial. Their is a large picture of the famous boy picking up Hector and his sister. The running water represents the fight for freedom and peace, as well as the blood that was shed that day and in the events that followed.

On a bench beside this picture, here's a quote from the mother of the boy who picked Hector up. It shows you the true humanity of Africans:

Standing in the memorial, looking at the hundreds of stones that were named for each child or person that was killed that day, I felt very emotional. It was very powerful.

And finally, here is the stadium they were marching too. It will see some of the "football" games that will be played in South Africa as they host the World Cup 2010...maybe I'll have to come back for that ;)


Then we were off to see something that I still get giddy like a teenage girl about...the house that Nelson Mandela, my hero and a source of my strength, lived in for many, many years with Winnie and his family...8115 Orlando West, Soweto.

The house was tiny, but as you walk in you see the quote, "Any house in which a man is free is a castle when compared with even the plushest prison." He lived in this house prior to his prison stint, when he was arrested, etc. Then, this was the house he came home to after 27 years in prison. He spent 11 days there aftewards and moved. The bullet holes were still in the outside brick from days when riots broke out and also, Winnie lived there during the time he was in prison and had arrests and riots of her own there.

These are his legitimate law degrees and many honourary degrees from schools all over the world. Lots of human rights documentation.

This was a large painting that is hanging in the middle room:

Sugar Ray Leonard gave this Championship Belt to Mandela as he was a boxer too!

I guess all I can really say about being at his house is WOW. I was awestruck at the presence and power that was still held there, and even around there. It's like we all want to touch the walls of something that held so many secrets, truths, power, humility and greatness.

These children were right outside of Mandela's house. They were singing and dancing, so beautiful. They only added to my emotion!

Finally, we got to the Apartheid Museum. South Africa is so rich in spirit, from the people, the land, the wildlife and the struggle that black Africans went through to be freed from discrimination and racism from the white Afrikaans who settled the land. What they call "Coloureds" and "Indians" came even before them. Apartheid was present everywhere, from rural towns to schools to prisons even. Political prisoners such as Mandela received less food than whites, coloureds, or Indians. At the Apartheid Museum, they hand you cards with your passes. I was given a "non-whites" card out of our group and had to enter through a separate door than the rest of them, that went through a short history of how they had beaches that were only white or european, bars, shops, just about everything! They go through the start of how Johannesburg (the city of gold) and the Gauteng province (place of gold) came to be - gold was found. First the land was occupied by Africans, then once the gold was discovered, hundreds of thousands immigrated from all over, making for a mostly-white society and very mixed with different cultures. The white european "afrikaans" dominated. Black Africans were called "Johns" if you didn't know them and anywhere, on the street, when crossing borders, at the mall, they would be called on to help you do anything that involved labour. I could go to the grocery store and then just hand pick an African to bring my bags to my car. It was sick, and crazy. There were tons and tons of "freedom fighters" who started with a non-violent protests/marches etc. to make their point to the governement heard that this was racism and not right. Eventually, Mandela started a new part of the ANC (African National Congress) that was meant to try more violent ways of being heard...sabotage, eventually possibly guerilla warfare if needed. He had to go underground to do this as the government knew somewhat what they were doing and he was caught and arrested in 1962...sentenced to life in prison.

It is unbelieveable that this all is so recent and it stayed relatively normal until the elections for a democratic society in 1994. I am absolutely in awe of Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisilu, Oliver Tambo, Bram Fisher, and a ton of others who fought their whole lives for this struggle. I am so happy that Mandela lived to see it become the dream they had for South Africa.

At the end of the museum, they have the bill of rights set out and it's all things we Canadians take for granted. Even our tour guide was saying he was just so happy to have "sick leave" and a couple weeks holidays. He felt so grateful and we usually feel so deserving of it...I felt almost sick!

At the very, very end they have a small veld where you can relax, reflect on what you've just seen and try to digest it. And then...where you can walk away free. It was so moving. This is me in the veld, happier than ever!

One quote in the museum in particular has stuck in my head since seeing it. Maybe this is why I feel so close to this place:"
Humanity was born in Africa. Therefore, all people, ultimately, are African."

We finished off the day with a drive through downtown Johannesburg to see Gandhi Square. The Gandhian philosophy was one of the driving forces behind Nelson Mandela's lifelong anti-apartheid movement. This is off the Mandela bridge, overlooking the city. Right downtown, in the midst of the old stock exchange and the old prison, it felt very safe. There are security guards on every corner. It looked a lot like Ottawa to me. We went through some ridiculously nice areas of town too, huuuge mansions, tons of balconies, some looked like castles. It's a crazy and beautiful place.

All in all it ended up being a day that I will never forget! WOW that was a long blog. I'm off to take fence posts out with a TLB (they let me drive it ...haha!) and then to drive the Aussie to the airport, but have so much more to blog about! soon! xoxo