Out of Mind, Out of Sight

I’ve been scratching beneath the surface a little more during my second week in South Africa. A city tour, attendance at various arts festival functions, and more conversations with locals have illuminated some negative and positive things about the state of the country.

I think that the city tour has proved to be the most important thing that I’ve done since my arrival. Guided by one of our professors, we visited the different neighbourhoods in the city and learned about its long history, from colonial battles, to its apartheid divisions, to the government housing that is now being erected to replace informal housing.

The time we spent in the township (shantytown) was the most interesting to me. The idea of observing a neighbourhood as if it were a zoo initially made me uncomfortable, but it was actually a very positive experience. I was somewhat prepared for the substandard living conditions, but the graveyard extending from the main road into the township of (mainly) AIDS victims shook me. In light of all this hardship, I surprised by how friendly everyone was! Little kids shyly observed us, then called out, “Hello! How are you?” practicing their English. Adults would wave, or respond to our waves. It was especially interesting to see the improvements that the new government has been making, like paving the roads and extending electricity lines. I actually felt safer during our time in the township than I typically do in Grahamstown’s city centre. This observation may have been tainted by the fact that I was accompanied by 30 other people. But nevertheless, there was a greater sense of community there than downtown, where people clutch their purses and regard each other suspiciously.

I am puzzled by the South African upper-middle class. I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t be content sitting on my front porch with a full view of an impoverished shantytown. Not to mention the fact that the front porch would be situated behind a locked iron gate, enclosed by a fence looped with barbed wire at the top, and displaying a large yellow sign announcing that my home is protected by an armed security service.

More positively, the National Arts Festival is pretty spectacular! We’ve seen dramas, comedies, concerts, and films. My favourite performance has been “Evita for President!” a one-man comedy written and performed by Pieter-Dirk Uys, who is a famous political satirist in South Africa. His material was very bold, shocking, in-your-face stuff, mocking stereotypes and South African leadership and the like. It was well-received by the audience, which leads me to believe that South Africa has transformed into a very open country.

Besides shows, my friends and I are spending a lot of Festival time wondering around the streets, which are lined with food and tourists and vendors. On my meanderings, a few things have come to amuse me. One is how you see the same people over and over again. There are a lot of tourists in town for the festival, but you can still spot the locals, because they are the same few members of the upper-middle class over and over again. For example, the nice lady who served us all wine samples one afternoon at the Pick and Pay was the same lady we saw that night having a drink at the Rat and Parrot and again the very next afternoon at the gym. This made the whole concept of a vibrant middle class as the key to economic growth very clear. There aren’t enough people with money to spend here, stunting Grahamtown’s growth, and ultimately the whole country’s.

There are some very interesting jobs being innovated, though! One example is how women and children walk up and down the streets selling newspapers, rather than having them available in boxes at street corners. Another example is men and women in orange vests, watching cars parked in public areas, to deter thieves, for tips.

More negatively, conversations with seemingly cute locals at bars are leading me to believe that racism is still very much alive here, beneath the surface of reconciliation. I suppose I should have known that such deeply entrenched racism wouldn’t have been eradicated overnight, but it still sickened me to listen to some of the extremely derogatory remarks being made by white guys my age about the black population. I think this goes back to the problem of teaching South African history – no one in their right mind would blame the black population for the current state of South Africa if they understood how apartheid transformed the black population into a permanent underclass and how long it is going to take to rectify the situation and achieve a more equitable distribution of wealth and power. The encounter was almost enough to ruin our wild Fourth of July celebrations – almost.

In a few days, our course will divide into elective modules. I signed up for “Poverty and Development” which is focused on the economic development potential in rural regions – which also happens to have been the subject of my undergraduate thesis. The first of our two-week program will be spent in Philippolis, a town in the Free State. I’m really excited to see how the experience changes or confirms what I wrote.

The RISS group, heading out for our city tour.


"First World" South African housing.



Just down the road, the "Third World".


On a lighter note - Fourth of July cocktail hour!

{Note new pics below as well}