Hello Cape Town

Our days moved into a new pattern allowing for an extra hour of sleep compared to those days in the camps.  Breakfast at the hotel was served buffet style in the small but neat dining room.  We had to be ready to roll by 8:15.  Ian met us and our first stop was at the top of the famed Table Mountain. The ride up this mountain around which Cape Town spreads is a short and not too winding one.  At the midpoint of the mountain is the cable car station.  We piled out of the car and got in line to be among the first riders when the attraction opened at 8:30.  Before we could really even stand there but a few moments, Ian pulled us out of the line and back to the van. He had gotten the heads up that the cars would not be running this morning because the winds were increasing.  The round cable cars, built in Switzerland, cannot operate with the least wind. So we saved ourselves some wasted daylight by Ian having the inside track.

We went on to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. Like most botanical gardens, this one too did not disappoint. Ian guided us through a small introductory section of the beautiful grounds that had been planted with carefully selected varieties and then we explored on our own.  Or almost on our own.  Vitalis followed behind like a Mother Hen or a Cat Wrangler.  I think he is enjoying being almost a tourist since he does not usually get to experience this part of the trip and he has someone else to do the organizing.

We enjoyed the Canopy Walk and chatted with a man who comes every week.  The elderly gentleman showed us a booklet of pictures he had taken in the garden.  I think this character was interesting and would have liked to chat with him some more, but our time was limited.  We walked across the broad lawn where in the summer concerts are held.  The flowers were unusual to us but typical of the Mediterranean climate.

After visiting the Glasshouse and the gift shop we began an Orientation Tour of the city. Ian drove us about in dizzying circles.  He kept the descriptions flowing but it was difficult to understand since none of us had brought our maps along.  Also, the van was not the bus he had collected us in the night before but a smaller one, with little windows partially blocked by curtains. Iva said it was like a tour of doorways!

We finally had him let us out by the streets of colorfully painted ‘pack of cards’ houses.  This style has one house aligned exactly like the next in style and size as they march downhill. Vitalis walked with us.  He was enjoying everything because working the Cape Town Extension was new to him.

We finished up our walk but lost track of Kay along the way.  We were heading to a little restaurant called FORK but didn’t like the menu.  Kay must have stopped to take a few pictures and didn’t realize that we had started back to Green Market Square.  Iva, Phil. Bonnie, Susie, and I had Fish ‘n Chips at Mr. Calamari’s.  $3.90 for a full plate and a Coke.  Kay, having lost sight of us, it turned out had a great adventure.

Bud had been dropped at the Harley dealer to pick up shirts for himself and for Susie. Kay found herself in front of the HOHO and decided to ride around for a while.  She told us later that the ride took her past some beautiful places, down to the Victoria and Albert Wharf, and to the Government Road. From there she walked through the The Company's Gardens and past the beautiful municipal and federal buildings to find herself at the Belmond Mount Nelson Hotel.  This hotel serves High Tea and Kay treated herself.  She said that it was the nicest and fanciest she ever had and it was only $20.

Bud had continued on a 68 mile taxi ride to pick up a Victory Motorcycle shirt for Susie to take home to Skip.

We finished our lunch and left for our Neighborhoods Tour.  This is the tour I booked by mistake but stayed with.  I had thought at the time of booking that it would be in Johannesburg and take us out to Soweto. That would be the neighborhood of interest to me.  But we stuck with it.  I wish I had gone with Kay.

We started our tour by stopping at the District Six Museum.  District Six was an area of town, not too fancy but very livable, where Blacks, Whites, and Coloreds lived in peaceful co-existence. Judging from the many photos on display, it appeared to be similar to tenements in New York that you have seen in black and white movies but not so cheerful. Overcrowded buildings filled with people happy to make a better life for themselves and their families. The struggle seemed to be like that of the early 20^th century in the cities of America. 

Also juding by the photos and information at the museum, it seems the races co-existed but didn't really mingle in this location either.  Not, at least, like today.  Photos showed children playing, but only black or white together.  Classrooms were solo-raced.  A few photos showed businesses which would have perhaps many employees of which only one or two would be white. The exception was the hospital where all the photos showed white doctors or nurses caring for black or colored patients.

Out of the Township of Soweto, I understand to be so very much like these we visited, came two heroes. The only two Nobel Prize winners to live on the same street.  Both the winners of the Nobel Peace Prize, Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela, were born in villages, also like the one we visited, but lived in the Johannesburg township.

The Townships of Cape Town are a remainder of Apartheid. This many years, two decades, after the end of the atrocity, there are still people in ‘temporary housing.’  This consists of shipping containers.  A whole family of generations living in one. Many have electricity strung in a Maypole effect from poles giving a circuslike look to the area. Most have satellite dishes aiming hopefully to the sky. Microwaves are their choice for cooking.  They don't pay to live here or for whatever services they receive, so what little money they have they use to mimic rational society.

The paths between the corrugated metal crates create a maze like rabbit’s warren of connections.  Around the outer edges of a cluster are a row of Port – a – Pottys.  There are no showers unless they travel to a community center.  Please understand that I am not speaking of neat rows of boxes in open areas but thousands of containers, often sharing a corrugated wall, jumbled together.  Each person being able to reach out his 'front door' and shake the hand of the person in the hot box across from him.  Cold in winter, sizzling in summer.

Children in crisp but not perfectly matched uniforms were coming home from distant schools.  Some women roasted sheep heads over open fires in half barrels, hoping someone would have some money to buy a little for dinner.  Their faces were smeared with a combination of yellowing fat and clay to protect them from the daily effects of the open flames. Others were butchering animals and had tables of entrails for sale. At one shanty people were in a long and winding line waiting to purchase meat from within the crated store.  It was getting very cold (it is late spring there and we were bundled up against the rain and wind) and was going to be rainy for a few days and the people needed to be able to make hot meals.

We visited a pottery project where people could come in to learn the skill of molding and decorating useful objects for sale in hopes of having a job or a store of their own.  Understand that by ‘store’ I mean a five foot square space in a public area like Green Market Square.  

Another stop was at a day care center that was sponsored by Hylton Ross, the touring company that provided our local guides. The children knew the drill and quickly gathered in a cheerful group seated on the floor.  Heavyset, bored women sat to the back on school desk chairs to make sure each child was singing out the welcoming song. One of the bigger girls did an energetic leg kicking dance like we had seen at the Bomas.  We responded with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star which some of the kids knew and joined in. Bonnie got the words mixed up.  That seals the deal – we are not performers!

Tonight was our Home Hosted Dinner.  Ian dropped Kay, Bud, Iva, Phil, Susie and I at Angie’s house out in Grassy Park.  She and her daughter, Meaghan, were gracious and the conversation was open, honest and lively. We had delicious chicken with roasted potatoes, cauliflower and broccoli, carrots and green beans (or maybe it was asparagus).  We later learned that OAT dictates the menus and the recipes.  Mindy, Steve, Bonnie, and Vitalis went to a different house but enjoyed the same meal.  The hostess didn't exactly understand what it meant that Mindy is vegetarian so didn't fix rice and other things that she thought Mindy could not have.  But basically the menu was the same. Their host provided them with some DVD's he had made and that we hope Mindy will share with us.

Meaghan is a real estate lawyer and is engaged but hasn’t set the date yet.  Angie was a para-legal. Angie’s Mom lives with them.  She came out of her room for a few minutes dressed in her thick fuzzy off-white bathrobe.  Her long, thick, grey hair streaming to below her waist. Angie's son, wife, and grandchildren live in a guest house at the back.  A cousin stopped in and joined the lively conversation. Some of us were hesitant about this home experience but it turned out so well that everyone was made to feel comfortable. 

Angie and her family were considered Colored.  Colored was a higher social status than Black.  Japanese were considered White but probably because of the many businesses and companies that they owned.  Chinese and other Asians were Colored.  Indian was in a separate Colored category.  Housing was developed for each group.  Whites were not required to leave District Six but the government wanted the land.  Services to the community were dropped and the situation became so bad that many left.  The government paid a small price for properties but it wasn’t compensation enough for even the poor housing that was there.  And not enough to buy elsewhere.

Today District Six is being redeveloped and families who were forced out are being invited to return with no charge for the new housing.  A solution?  Maybe.  An apology? No.