It’s fall here, and a very hot one! Wish I had brought shorts and cotton sleeveless dresses, but it was difficult to comprehend that reality while packing in Chicago where there was still snow on the ground. The first night, arriving near midnight local time, I stayed at a City Lodge near the airport, which, thankfully, after 23 hours of traveling, had a huge bathtub and a separate shower, so I was at least clean when I was picked up early the next morning by Liz Barratt, a former top editor who is now with Media 24, a training agency. She took me to her home where I met her cat Widget and her dog Tigger and enjoyed her home in Kensington. She has a beautiful garden with mature fruit trees, flowers and vegetables. That night, we ate at an outdoor cafe (lime fish for me, sushi for her). On Wednesday morning, she dropped me off early at Constitution Hill, site of the highest court. There were a smattering of tourists and bands of schoolchildren in their uniforms. The court was not in session, so successive groups had a brief explanation (and sometimes a quiz from rotating guides) on the meaning of elements of the South African flag and its constitution, which is one of the most comprehensive anywhere and guarantees specific and universal rights. Former Justice Albie Sachs, whom I had the pleasure to meet in Chicago, had also told me about the artwork he helped select for the court. The hill also includes prisons where criminals and political activists were held prior to 1994. The day was bright and warm, the children were playful, and it was jarring to imagine the crowded, dirty and inhumane conditions endured by so many not that long ago. There is also a special exhibit across several cell blocks that explains Ghandi’s role in South Africa in promoting the concept of nonviolent resistance to discrimination. He was also jailed here for his protests in the early 20th century.
At mid-day, I met a woman named Thuli who was guiding a visitor from the Netherlands named Ali. I was able to hitch a ride with them to the tallest building on this continent, Carlton Centre (50 stories, so does not compare with Chicago!). The viewing area at the top provided a panoramic view of sprawling Johannesburg, although getting this perspective did not prevent me from getting lost many times on Friday, when I rented a car and made may wrong turns. The center of the city is crowded with tenements, decaying apartment buildings. Plenty of people were on the streets, some of them hawking everything from fruit to “fashion,” and laundry hung from many windows. Traffic is dense, too. Ali, the guide, the driver and I proceeded to the Apartheid Museum, where there was a special display on Nelson Mandela’s life, and, fascinating to me, front pages taped to a display case from two newspapers that day of his former wife Winnie’s remarks reported by the journalist wife of V.A. Naiphal in which Winnie criticized Nelson for selling out, called Archbishop Tutu a “cretin” and noted the continued huge economic disparities between most South African blacks and the educated class who are prospering. By Saturday, Winnie Mandela denied giving an interview to Mrs. Naiphal and denounced the remarks. In the meantime, I talked to several South Africans who believed she was speaking the truth. I have been surprised at comments criticizing Nelson Mandela, since he has been heralded as such a revered figure worldwide. I read a lot of “struggle” literature before my trip, and it is odd to see these passionate figures of recent history now known as names of streets, for example (activists lawyer Bram Fischer and Joe Slovo) or the main airport (Oliver Tambo). I asked a bookstore clerk for the biography on Walter and Albertina Sisulu by their daughter-in-law Elinor, and had to spell it for her, which is another interesting factor in how the past is fading for those who grew up in the multi-racial democratic South Africa since 1994. I’ve also heard pointed criticism of the current president, Jacob Zuma.
On Friday, I rented, or hired, as they say here, a car. Driving on the left has proven less problematic than finding my way around the winding streets while trying to look like I know where I am going, since I’ve been warned that if I look vulnerable, I could be subject to car jacking or purse snatching (from the car or my person.) I finally managed to reach my interview at Gender Links, a nonprofit that does research and advocacy on women’s issues in 10 countries of Southern Africa, many hours later than I had originally planned, and back to the guesthouse where I have been staying since Thursday afternoon. Liz was waiting for me in her car and we met another former Nieman, Lizeda Mda, for dinner at the restaurant Moyo, situated next to Zoo Lake in a big park. It’s pan-African themed, spotlighting Tanzania this month, so we sampled mango chicken, flat bread, and shared a light Sauvignon Blanc. Among the customs at this restaurant is face painting the guests. (See my profile photo and one of Lizeka, too.)
On Saturday morning, I drove to Pretoria to visit my friends John and Elizabeth Mojapelo, who built a beautiful home four years ago in Lady Selborne. This is the area where John grew up, but his family and all other blacks were forcibly removed in 1981 by the apartheid government, their homes and churches leveled. The only structure spared is a Roman Catholic mission, staffed by European nuns. It is now a multi-racial home for senior citizens. John told me that the removers claimed it would take at least 20 years to get rid of the “smell” of the original residents. He said this as we toured the neighborhood by car, as John pointed out where the blacks’ houses once were; now poor whites have built different structures on the land, and are oblivious to its history. John and Elizabeth built the first home in the new section, set partway up a hill, with gentle breezes and a peaceful view of the mountain from the lounge, John’s study and the master bedroom. It is a lovely home with a big garden. Green peppers and beans were ready for harvest when I visited. As with most private homes I have seen here, there are walls around the home and garden, topped with wire. Entrance is by automatic gate or key only. What the neighborhood whites (of Afrikaans heritage) do see is that the houses built by the Mojapelos and others with professional jobs are considerably larger and more luxurious than theirs. Sometimes they vent their frustrations in words, but more often by dumping trash at night outside the nicer homes. (I will expand more on this in a future post – John has also written a book about Lady Selborne.) We had a traditional braai (Elizabeth fixed the side dishes and marinated the meat, sausage, beef and chicken and John barbecued it on their built-in outdoor grill off the dining room). In addition to me, there were two other guests who also built houses in the neighborhood, Phil, an educator, and Christine, a social worker. The conversation was fascinating and the setting quiet and peaceful. Tomorrow I will interview Mary Metcalfe, the director general of the national department of higher education, and also visit Anton Harber, a professor of Journalism at Wits — the University of the Witwatersrand.
I am hoping to have WiFi soon so that I can upload photos and also not have to borrow this computer, which is in the office of the woman who runs this guesthouse. It is Sunday and she is off playing tennis, so doesn’t mind if I use it for a long time, but that is not the case during the week.
Cheers,
Nancy
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