Buzzing Around The World With Fellette & Doug

Friday Night in a Cape Town Township....

We went on a "Cultural Experience" in the evening of our first day here. At 4.30 we boarded a bus for an evening out in a Cape Town Township. I thought it must have been the wrong tour! For people on a round the world trip on a luxury liner I have never seen such grumpy looking people. There were some exceptions, however. After a lumpy start with an African tour guide who at first we could hardly understand and a microphone that did not work, I thought for sure one of our companions would explode. We switched mikes with a passing bus and if you listened carefully we could understand him fine.

We had about a 45 minute ride to a Township. You all do know what a township is don't you? That is where "Blacks" were/are concentrated in areas, with housing ranging from quite nice but modest block buildings to the most primitive you would think would still exist today. Enroute, our young guide explained his personal experiences at "circumcision school". [See photo]. I thought to myself, 'this will certainly cheer up this lot.' We all waited with trembling hands the photo he was circulating to the Happy Gang. There he was in full school garb, painted face, feather bonnet, loincloth and little else. I breathed a sigh of relief that the lesson soon ended. See the photo.

First stop a Township Cultural Centre. But first a quick look around the area we were in as we trooped off the bus. A clean area with scores of mostly young people, all going about their business which seemed mostly being walking briskly on the side walks to I know not where. There was a group of happy young kids, boys and girls ranging in age from 3 to 16? just hanging out I guess. I did not feel threatened, I think some did.

We filed into the building where there were some home made crafts for sale. We were then seated in a round cement-walled room about 35 feet in diameter on chairs facing the front. An elderly gentleman explained that he was the 'music teacher' here. He had a range of about 10 simple African musical instruments that he teaches people to build and then use. He showed several and then passed out whistles to those in the front row. [NEVER sit in the front row.] These whistles did not come out of a cello package folks! I firmly clutched my video with both hands and proceeded to video the performance without the "on" switch on! Fortunately for those lucky whistle-blowers they were only required to blow OVER the mouthpiece, they were not required to firmly clasp it between their lips and teeth. We were later told that over 700 people a week die of aids in the 15 townships around Cape Town. This experience did not do a lot to cheer up our travelling companions.

Next we had the most intense and loud demonstration of Zulu dancing we have ever witnessed. It really is enthralling. I get goose bumps thinking about it. There were three very athletic and masculine looking African dancers with three handsome dark drummers. I was in photographic heaven. The music was louder than loud. Most of the dances were very aggressive and almost threatening. I have no idea what they were about, I did think of the early settlers and explorers that had such an experience and it was likely the last thing they saw and heard. These were not whoosy folk dances, this was as warlike as it gets. F. thought some of them were sexy! [See the photo.]

The shell-shocked group of tourists were then allowed to leave and reboard the bus. A few by now a few of us had got into the spirit of the evening and were mingling with the locals, the kids outside were delightful. [See the photo.]

We then had a ride through a lower class area of the township. I felt ashamed that we were driving this 40 passenger bus through the narrow streets of this shanty town. We were speechless as we looked down on these peoples lives. The homes and shops were about seven feet high, and maybe eight by eight in area, of wooden construction from any and all things they could find. Tin, plastic, tarps, anything at all to afford some degree of privacy. Most of the locals were clean and happy looking, about 1/3 gave a wave, the youngsters would run gaily alongside the bus as we slowly wound our way through this seemingly endless sea of gray-black shacks. In some areas there was very innovative use of small metal containers, mainly for small shops. The occasional person would look at us with anger in their face. No wonder!

Next we went into an upscale [?] area and disembarked. The idea that we were actually going to walk on the streets here was, I thought, going to be a show-stopper. The group of 27 Prinsendam's finest strung out down the street as the sun was going down, and locals were tucking into their homes for the evening.
Have you heard of the Death March at Bataan? Picture that. We soon arrived at a double-wide home that housed an African restaurant, we were all a bit relieved I think to see something that looked like a save harbour for some time.

As the happy gang trooped in we were delighted to find that we were preceded by about 60 Germans working on their fourth beer! Us Anglos found our seating, somehow. All the plates of food, [it was a buffet], were scrapped clean and it looked like a legion potluck dinner at two o'clock in the morning. Mama, the owner announced that there would be all new food put out for us. Meanwhile the band played up front, two or three musicians and a native with an Afro hairdo singing tenor, in Italian. Got the picture? Things lightened up as your drink of choice was served. Eight of us found sanctuary in a small room separated from the main floor seating area. We shared it with the electrical control panel and some storage cupboards.

The food was absolutely delicious. While in the line we had a lively conversation with some of the Germans. They of course asked where we were from, the woman [?] in front of me said, "those people are from the US, but I am from Texas!" They seemed surprised that we were Canadians and we had a friendly chat.

Time to go rolled around, non too soon for some, the Germans meanwhile were still enjoying the evening as we trooped sullenly back to the bus and I am sure most people thought back to the safety of the ship. Not to be, next stop an African Tavern in the Township! 20 minutes later after a drive through darkened streets where there seemed to be endless people walking or clustering about, we pulled up right next to a brick wall where we towered over the scene below. Loud African music pounded through the bus windows as three women dressed in traditional clothes sang in their native tongue, a group of musicians behind and a seated crowd of about 35 locals. This is when I heard the first audible sign of fear in the evening, a gentleman [?] said to his wife "I am not getting off the bloody bus!"

The fearless in the group, about 1/2 maybe, again trooped in through the sliding metal gate and presto, we were in. Beer was $2.00. Many locals offered their seats to the new arrivals, however most huddled as a group at the back. I must confess I was really into the evening. I went to the bar and asked for a beer, the big man, who looked like deposed Uganda dictator Idi Amin said to me "how long have you been in South Africa?" I looked at my watch and said about 10 hours, he roared with laughter and said WELCOME! Soon after I saw a woman from the ship dancing with a local, good fun.

I then talked to a few of the locals, they all shook hands, [good thing I knew how to do that funny handshake where you do four movements and in the process grab each others thumbs]! I sat with Fellette, and enjoyed the music. I asked a few times what where they singing about. Usually it was about their "troubles," white-rule times. Another song was called "coal train" I believe, it was a slow chugging thing that picked up tempo as it went along. I asked a local what it was about and he said, during "the troubles" it was very slow progress, then as time went by they made improvements in their lives, that is when the tempo increased. Touching.

Soon we were back on the bus and to the ship with much head-shaking and soul-searching. It was the most heart touching cultural experience I have had in my life. There will no doubt be some complaining at the tours desk on that one, but not from this fellow.

At least that is how I saw it!

[Sorry, no photos of the Township.]

By the way, in an earlier post I mentioned the "approach to Cape Town direction", I may have got some directions mixed up, regardless, it was a fantastic sight!

posted by Doug and Fellette @ 11:40 PM