Saturday, July 2

Maddening. I couldn't publish my posts and there were so many people waiting to use the computer that I couldn't diagnose the problem. But today I'm staying at home (my Johannesburg hostel) and trying to get my life back together--laundry, ATM, reading, blogging. {It turned out the problem was with the out-of-date IE browser this place has.

There is too much to tell..

I went on two 'tours', one a trip to the Apartheid Museum, Soweto (the black townships) and downtown Johannesburg. There were only two of us, a tall, blonde Australian woman, and myself. This allowed me to pester the driver with a thousand questions. Thus I learned a great deal.

This hostel is isolated out on the fringes of the metropolis, a bit like being in Livermore. Too distant for a taxi to downtown. Guests are dependent upon the lodge drivers to get you where you want to go. Since they offer lots of tours that isn't a problem for most folks. But me--I don't want to go on a guided tour, at least not my first day, so I'm stuck it seems. But then a tall, stocky black man, Pastor, befriended me. He assured me I could take a series of 15 passenger vans to Jo-burg. I jumped at the chance. 'You'll probably be the only white man on the bus,' he told me, which seemed just peachy to me. He directed me to walk about a tenth of a mile up the road and stick my forefinger out as if I were pointing to a distant cloud. This is the S.African sign of the hitchhiker/van seeker.

The road was not busy but I stood there, pointing. Pastor said the vans were white. What he didn't mention is that every other car in S.Africa is white. Thus I found myself pointing pointlessly as car after car sped by. Pastor had warned it might take a while to get a ride so I tried to be patient.

Then a tow truck stopped. It turned out I was hitchhiking--at least that's what the tow driver, a young black man in a full length red uniform thought. He invited me into his truck. I jumped. But I also worried. It was midday so murder for my meager cash seemed unlikely, but I also remembered all the people who had told me how dangerous S.Africa was--highest murder rate in the World or some such. I breathed shallowly and plotted how long it would take me to open the door and jump out before I was knifed.

We didn't talk but the brief ride was cordial and he let me off near a minibus station. 'Over there,' he pointed. I saw several shiny white busses waiting. The van I eventually rode was not shiny--full of dents if you must know--but it seemed simple enough. I grabbed a seat in the last row and tried to look and feel nonchalant. The other riders, 14 of them, took no real notice of me despite my unorthodox skin color. As we got ready to leave a woman boarded. Since there were no seats I got up to offer mine. Except that I'd forgotten there were a couple fold down seats next to me. As she tried to unfold the seat I crashed into her in my vain attempt to be gallant. She scowled. I blushed, apologized and sat down--my nonchalance now sacrificed. She took out a Blackberry and began to type. Inwardly I smiled. This was not a rural peasant going to market, this was a middle class person on her way to work or business. She seemed much more a kindred spirit which emboldened me to try to strike up a conversation.
'This is my first day in South Africa,' I announced in her general direction, trying to sound like just another traveller. She was suitably surprised. 'Really?' she replied. The trip lasted only about ten minutes so we didn't get much talking done but when it came time to transfer to the next minivan, the one that would take me to downtown, she walked me across the street to the proper vehicle. We parted, smiling. I'd succeeded in my first encounter.
The next van took me downtown. When I first got into the van a short black, bald man chuckled and turned partially around in my direction: 'Are some of us in the wrong place? he asked jovially. The trip to downtown was uneventful though I had no idea where I should exit the van. So I waited till we stopped. If nothing else this told me where to reboard for the return trip.\

What I was to learn later was that downtown Joburg is a unique place. Twenty years ago it was a white city with blacks doing the unskilled labor (provided they had their passbooks with them certifying their race and place of residence). But after 1994 all that changed. Now Joburg is a black city. The only whites are in banks and managerial jobs and they are only seen in their cars as they pass into or out of the burg. The streets are filled with black folk. But not predominantly South African black folk. Joburg is a city almost entirely taken over by immigrants from the contiguous African states--Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia, Zambia, et. al. The high rises that one sees from a distance turn out to be a sort of Potemkin Village. There is no one in them. The big hotels are guestless. The office buildings are officeless. The streets are busy. There are plenty of retail places to frequent. Trade is active. This is not Oakland where the streets are empty except at rush hour.
I wandered the streets for two or three hours looking for a book store. I could find none except for one religious place that sold bibles and all those books of selfhelp and self realization. Instinctively I knew to get out of the city before darkness (remember the days here are very short since it is winter) so I hopped a minivan back towards home. I ended up paying a bunch of money to a taxi because I couldn't figure out how to get back to the hostel, but I arrived safely.
The next day I took a tour that returned to Joburg, to the Apartheid Museum and, most importantly, to Soweto, the black townships.

There are some ways in which Joburg is similar to Hong Kong. A generation ago HK was a white run city, now whites are marginalized. Commerce in HK never waivered, of course, but there was some transition to a new economic model. Joburg today seems to me to be in transition. A black middle class is emerging, taking some managerial jobs, starting businesses. The first part of Soweto I saw was a revelation. Home ownership has transformed it into a beautiful, sun kissed neighborhood with spotless paved streets and kids walking the family dog. There are a few whites buying homes there--seven my driver told me.
Across the way, about 1,000 yards distant, the government is trying to do the urban renewal thing. They are tearing down the old Soweto shacks and building two story homes. If I didn't know I was in Joburg I would have assumed I was in Chicago. But there are no towers to tear down, just tarpaper shacks. My driver says the residents will get free rent in the new buildings, which to a capitalist like me suggests they will soon turn into slums. But clearly the old Soweto is disappearing to home ownership and slum clearing. In five years it will all be gone.
A new split is evolving according to my driver. Now South African blacks are resentful of cheap labor immigrants.

On Friday I went on a one day 'safari' to a park nw of our hostel. We rode around in our car for most of the day staring at elephants, and wildebest and zebras and warthogs, and, most significantly, a beautiful leopard that helpfully posed on a rocky outcrop ten yards ahead of us. {My camera messed up and I only got one indistinct photo of her/him.} It was a worthwhile trip but animals are not my thing so my reaction was moderate.
Today I'm hanging out at the hostel trying to get things in order. If I can figure out how to get back to Joburg I'll catch the train for Capetown tomorrow. But the logistics are difficult and it might take me one day more.