Yesterday was one of the most difficult days of my life. If what I post seems obscure and jumbled, its because my mind cannot yet seem to grasp and understand what I learned and witnessed. Yesterday, all day, all of the international students were required to attend a city tour. Not much was really said about it, and none of us obviously knew anything about the city, so it seemed just like any typical day here so far. We began with the downtown district, so, places like city hall, the public library, and historic churches. While in that part of the city, we touched on colonialism, and how many of the buildings obviously looked Dutch or English, since those are the nations that first colonized South Africa...this was no surprise to me and everything seemed regular. After lunch, we were told we were headed into more of the townships surrounding Port Elizabeth. To understand these townships, its important to understand some of the political and social history of South Africa. I wont go into huge detail, since Im sure it is much more interesting to me than you, but basically, before the current government was in power here, there was a government refereed to as the Aparthied. This government was made up of white, wealthy upperclassmen, who are called Afrikaners. They are the Dutch and English decedents of the original colonists. This government suppressed what they referred to as "Coloreds" and "Blacks", meaning TWO different groups. The way they separated the groups was three ways: 1) The color of their skin. They LITERALLY would take what we would compare to color swatches for painting our homes, and hold it up to peoples faces. 2) They would run a pencil through peoples hair. If it got stuck, meaning you had thicker, courser hair, you were black. 3) The Aparthied Government would LITERALLY use rulers to measure the widths of peoples noses, stating that if they had wider noses they were black. They classified these people into groups, and then suppressed them. They paid the same taxes as the rich Afrikaners, but lived in tin shacks, while rich whites lived in huge homes. They were denied jobs, primary education, college, and anything equal to whites. To show you the irony of the situation at the time: the first electricity plant in teh city of Port Elizabeth was literally right in the poor, black or colored townships, and were run by people who were classified as black or colored, yet literally right next door, not even feet from the electrical plant, there was absolutely no electricity. Food for thought.
What strikes me is that this isnt a government that existed long ago. This isnt some far off story that is ignored in history books. This happened in the late 1980's folks. The government officials who discriminated against, massacred and did horrible things to innocent people are still living. Some of them are still police officers.
Anyway, these townships that are scattered on the outskirts of Port Elizabeth and other South African cities were created by the Afrikaners to push the poor away. They felt that by pushing them to the edges of the city, no one would notice and no one would care. I honestly dont know how to put into words what I saw. Rows upon rows upon hills upon rolling hills of tin shacks that were literally held together with pieces of scrap metal and old wooden sticks. No electricity, no running water. Garbage EVERYWHERE. Rubble EVERYWHERE from when the Aparthied Government would burn businesses and homes to the ground. These shacks were rusty from the rain, absolutely run down and literally put together piece by piece from any scrap they could find to put a shelter over their heads. If felt like it was never ending. We drove and drove and drove, and the more we drove the more I felt absolutely stunned, shocked, overwhelmed and honestly just sad. Completely sad. I know it is hard for someone just reading this to probably understand, and so I hope its not confusing but until yesterday I probably would have felt the same way. "Poverty" and "The 3rd World" is something most of us learn about in text book and classrooms in the U.S. Until yesterday that was true for me as well, but now there is no going back. The images of what I witnessed are something I will never forget. One look literally changed my life forever.
Once we were about half way through one of the black townships, we visited a museum called the Red Location Museum. Is was built to teach and remember the massacres that happened on behalf of the Aparthied Government in the late 1980's. It was jaw dropping. There are thousands of people who were murdered because they simply wanted to attend school, or pay fair taxes. There were lists and lists of people who were murdered, and it showed the end result, as in if anyone was found guilty of their murder, or charged for any wrong doing. I can count on one hand the amount of prosecutions there were for the police and governments wrong doings. Disturbing.
We then visited a "backpacker" that had been set up and run by some of the elderly women of the township. (They are referred to as "Mammas") They served us beverages and homemade bread, (which puts ANY bread in America to shame by the way) and they told us stories of their experiences with the Aparthied Government. Again, life changing. Most people in the room were really emotional, just because it was so, so, SO sad. They spoke of getting arrested and abused in prisons multiple times, they spoke of being beaten, sexually abused and tormented simply because they wanted fresh water to drink in jail. When it reached the point in their story about finally being able to attend school, for their children to attend school, they were absolutely hysterical. They were unable to talk because they were crying so hard about the freedom to simply learn. If that cant put life into perspective then I dont know what can.
While leaving the backpacker, were were greeted by probably a hundred of the township children. They were obsessed with us, which makes me uncomfortable to say, but thats the only way I can put it. They wanted to touch our hair, look at our things, play with our phones and cameras, take pictures with us, and just talk to us. Many children asked me for food or water, and some were even begging. It was the hardest thing in the world to look them in the eye and tell them I didnt have anything for them. One of the other international students, from St. Cloud, told a girl that we had been talking to that she was beautiful and she was beyond herself with emotion. She said no one had ever told her that before.
On the way back from this city tour I was a zombie. I had all I could do to look our the bus window and not cry uncontrollably. It was the most eye opening, jaw dropping, life changing experience of my life, and I dont think I will ever be the same.
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