It is mid-afternoon as tourists march methodically past the "photo hawker" waving his arms wildly, directing every embarking passenger to pose on the ramp entrance to the ferry that will take us to the now infamous Robben Island, also referenced as "Mandela University." "Hey, you look beautiful man (imagine a lilting Jamaican tone), glorious; the sea breeze is blowing your hair man, love it man..." He will attempt to sell his photos to exhausted returnees as they stumble across the ferry threshold and once again face his authoritative taunt, "Memories here! Hey, man, get your photo while you can!" It could be any vacation spot in the world, anytime, anyplace. Same routine...tourists shuffling across the dock in clusters--- anticipation palpable, posing stiffly in front the entrance of what they hope will be a seaworthy vessel that will transport them to freedom...release them from the troubles of their world. On the first leg of the journey, headed to the island, I watch from the top deck of the Ferry as people...

 

 Winona Wynn and Zerafin Gonzales

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Jewels of the country" is how some locals refer to the Townships. Other say they are unsafe places from which to escape. The University of Capetown student who facilitated our Rosie's Kitchen experience called his Township, Khayelitsha, "home."  Part of this experience in South Africa entails turning the "critical eye" inward; trying to imagine our fleeting relationships with the people; and the material, emotional and physical landscapes, as more than the just the moment.  Our tours of the Townships yesterday were disturbing and unsettling due to the pull on our heartstrings --- an easy out (sympathy) contrasted with the admiration we couldn't help but feel as we noted entrepreneurial enterprise after enterprise....a corrugated tin roof shack which boasted "Cool Hair Done Here!"  The children we visited with at Rosie's Kitchen were unguarded, friendly and expectant (visitors bring gifts), so any romanticized feelings were quickly squashed by the reality of that expectation.  They were not simply welcoming visitors,...

Today we visited the township "Khayelitsha" the oldest and largest township in Cape Town with 1 million occupants. Our guide informs us there is hope for the community as we visit the local community center which has a gift shop that sells the artistry of single mothers in the community. The center provides early education for the children and has a workshop for the single mothers to make their crafts, which is their livelihood. Their speciality is the beautiful rugs that take up to 3 weeks to make. The sight of the township was overwhelming and like nothing I've seen before.

It is 1:00 a.m. My body has not gotten the "adjust and sleep" memo yet. The morning and afternoon hours (8:30-5:00) were spent at our hotel---our larger group was arranged in "clusters" so we would be able to process the information from several of the speakers that we heard. For me the theme was really "Jamaica Kincaid--esque." Meaning that the interpretation given of Capetown today offered a well-defined point of departure between the observations of "tourists" (a position that we occupy, albeit one of increased awareness) and the realities of "locals." In one of our required texts for Humanities 305 at Heritage, we read Jamaica Kincaid's text, "A Small Place" in which she traps the reader in her memory and perspective of growing up on the island of Antigua. My students at Heritage relate to her "angst" in that they can understand the power of "two complex tales" that claim an experiential truth. Kincaid brings us (tourists) down for a landing with her narration----when you arrive and get off the plane, this...

Coordinators are on a tight schedule here, and so it is now 10:30 pm (South Africa time).Capetown is a city of contradictions as one of our required reading articles suggests. As our plane made its descent, the reality set in that we had left the “Americas” and was not approaching a small, rural African settlement on another continent, but a dynamic historically significant city located at the western tip of the continent of Africa. We walked through the airport and spotted our driver, Denzel, who proceeded to act as tour guide once we entered the main highway. One of the contradictions of Capetown is the visibility, just outside of a comfortable, modern airport terminal, filled with people speaking languages from around the world, of the shanty shacks with tin corrugated roofs---little townships, communities of abject poverty, filled with the voices of South Africans who have still not recovered from Apartheid (which means we were told, "separateness"). The people of South Africa do NOT seem to be stuck in the...