July 19, 2009

This weekend was really busy. A lot of people were visiting Cape Town for a really huge AIDS conference. My friend Avery, who took a seminar on South Africa with me before coming this summer came down from Pretoria and stayed with us. My roommates and I showed her around town and went out a couple of times. She is also here for the AIDS conference. I participated in the AIDS march on Sunday after church. It was pretty exciting. Everyone was singing African songs and dancing. We stood out like a sore thumb. People always stare. I still wonder why they suspect I am different. The children were so fascinated with Sarah and Jessica’s hair. They would come up to them and just stroke their head because I am assuming that they are very curious about the long straight hair. Before the march started we all stood around talking. We were yelling “Amadla” which believe means freedom. People were passing out baggies of water and posters while we waited for the march to begin. It was a very peaceful demonstration. We were also suspicious of what type of demonstration it would be because we had a Stanford Student out in Cape Town on a Fulbright Scholarship that was killed in a protest. She was targeted because she was white and the people that committed the crime were sent to jail because the case was considered something like “an act of passion.” I do not know if I am using the right term but because it was a freedom march the case was looked upon differently.

After church on Sunday we also went to visit my friend Ntombi at her house. She invited us over to show us around and she also took us down the street from her home in Gugulatu where we had some traditional South African beer made by the local women. I have to say that beer is universally nasty….. This beer had bits of sediment in it and tasted nothing like alcohol. It was like someone rung a sponge into my cup and then I had to drink it. Although it was not the best drink I ever had, I am glad I got to try it. While we were all trying the beer this handicapped man came up to us in his wheelchair and started to make a scene. At first I thought he was just greeting us but his speech started on high and then went downhill. He told us how he was so happy we had come to visit and welcomes us humbly to South Africa. But then he started to say people needed to see how they live, that the African people have nothing, and that he lives in a shack. He also said he is now 58 years old and has nothing to show for it and the government has down nothing to help the people. He continued by emphasizing that he was handicapped and that he could barely use the bathroom because it is not accessible for the handicap. His greeting which became a speech was somewhat overwhelming and I began to cry. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I was there trying their beer. We had all just come from church dressed in nice clothes and appearing foreigners. For the first time while I was in the townships I felt like a tourist and it seem as though I should not have been there. When we he started making this speech, everyone was to leave instantly because it was just an uncomfortable situation. Even the adults that were sitting around the house watching us have the beer wanted him to be quiet. They explained to Ntombi that he was only doing it so that we would give him money. And I sure was ready just to empty my purse and give him everything. His speech made me feel bad for who I am, where I come from, and how I live. Sometimes I wonder how I sleep I night knowing these people are actually living like this while I get to shower whenever I want with clean water, have a blanket and a bed at night and basically live in excess….