August 10, 2005

South African Sojourn, Book Two

By Cheo Tyehimba


From the vaults: This classic travel journal first appeared on "The Black World Today," which was at the time the largest black-owned media outlet on the Internet.

A Daily Journal in the New South Africa

This is a continuation of a journal of my experiences in South Africa in March of 2002. I encountered incredible people and places in the Motherland. Today's South Africa is a nation striving to correct ancient evils and honor Black freedom.

Day 6
Durban's Historic Dustroads

We tour the Kwa Mhule Museum, which highlights Durban's Apartheid history. We learn about the Beer Halls, which were the only legalized places where black men could socialize after work during apartheid. Whites controlled them and the city generated great profits from these oppressive watering holes. In response, many blacks created their own beer halls, which were called "shibens" and the women who ran these illegal pubs were called "Shiben Queens" (similar to madams in US brothels). One of apartheid's greatest feats was to divide black South Africans.

The Durban police force was created in 1854 and they employed an all-black police force to control other blacks. They were known as the "blackjacks," and they were often more brutal than white officers. They only enforced laws against other blacks, coloureds and Indian peoples. Of course, they didn't carry guns. They hit people with a "blackjack weed," a hard stick which left a black mark on the clothes. This is where the term "blackjack" comes from.

Later we head to a spice market, where many Indian traders sell tourist items and curries. Outside the shopping complex where the Indian vendors are, hundreds of other vendors, mostly African, sell their wares. There are also many African healers/root workers (known as an Isangoma), and they play a vital part in healing the sick here. This market is self-sustaining. The vendors trade with each other and the currency turns over many times here. The money remains in the community.

Day 7
The Mandela Homestead

My ears are popping as our plane is descending somewhere over an area called the Eastern Cape. We will be touring the rural, rolling valleys of Mvezo, where Nelson Mandela was born. After we land in East London, we head to our hotel, The Blue Lagoon, which has comfortable rooms with eat-in kitchens. We drop off our luggage, pack in the van and speed off to see Mandela Country.

The rural area of the Eastern Cape is one of the poorest parts of South Africa. The roadside women, balancing sacks of corn on their heads, remind me of folks in West Africa. First stop is Jonopo Traditional Village, where a group of about eight Xhosa women greet us with song and dance. One woman is on the ground pounding out a simple drum rhythm on an empty fuel container. They have a home-cooked, traditional lunch prepared for us: roasted corn on the cob, soup, pap (a cornmeal similar to grits), peas and onions in a spicy brown oil, roasted chicken and Zulu beer. We all try to copy the wonderful clicking-sounds of certain Xhosa words. The Xhosa women find it amusing and we share a good laugh. There are several bungalow-style round huts, which are called "rondavesls," furnished with Xhosa artifacts. From there we head to Qunu, a serene area of endless rolling hills and farmland.

This area is known as the Transkei, where Mandela attended school. I smile because I remember seeing this area in a documentary film called Mandela. Plans to build an international youth center in Mandela's name have already begun here.

"This is Morrison Mandela, Madiba's younger brother," says our guide. The proud, dark man is dressed in a felt fedora, a pink jacket and trousers. He cracks a soulful smile and his eyes glint of ages gone by. We all shake his hand. "This is the Mandela Homestead. This is where Madiba's people come from."

Morrison leads us to the Mandela graveyard, where we see the gravesites of Madiba's son and daughter from his first marriage (before Winnie) and the gravesites of his parents. It is a sacred area and they tell us only men are allowed to enter. It is clear that the Mandelas were well-to-do people. Wealth that comes not only from having all this land and livestock but the kind of prosperity of spirit that comes with honor, respect for oneself, family and a tradition of royal lineage.

Next we tour the two year-old Nelson Mandela Musuem, housed in a revamped government building in a nearby town called Umtata. Before we go in a local drama troupe stages a series on re-enactments of Apartheid history. We see a rendering of the early days of the ANC and the first trial of young Mandela and his life sentence to Robben Island. They also provide a series of funny-but-profound plays about the social ills of South Africa. They depict unfortunate-but-common themes like a husband who rapes his daughter and gets caught by his wife; men who have jobs away from home for months and sleep with prostitutes and then return home to spread AIDS to their wives; and homosexuality is even casually dealt with.

Inside, the museum is a repository for Mandela's awards and honors given by hundreds of heads-of-state. There is ornate artwork dedicated to him and a photographic essay of his life in the struggle. The staff here are young and there is a vibrancy and grassroots involvement that wasn't felt at the sleek Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg. Later, on our nearly 3-hour drive back to The Blue Lagoon hotel, we are exhausted. However, our driver's lead foot propels us down the pitch black roadside and around vaulting cliffs faster than our stomachs can bear. As we sped past a fender-bender at an intersection and waited for a family of goats to cross, I tried to just let it go and get some sleep. A few seconds later, I was clutching my seat and staring bug-eyed into the bumpy, dark night.

Day 8
African Americans in Cape Town

Ah Cape Town! After a short flight from East London, we arrive at Sunset Beach Villas (www.sunset.co.za). These exclusive guesthouses are owned by an African American couple from Atlanta. George and Steronica Hawthorne welcome us into a guest home that could have been right out of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous." Marble floors, vaulted ceilings, beautiful art and other luxury appointments are everywhere. Currently, they operate 38 rooms between five guesthouses and nearly all have a spectacular view of Table Mountain. The homes could easily fetch a million-plus in the states but here they were purchased for much less (est. under $300,000 each), which is why owning income property in South Africa is such a great opportunity for Americans. Here you have all the luxuries of home but at 1/10th of the cost!

George is a tall, down-to-earth brother and former college basketball star at University of Arizona. He grew up in Oakland and L.A. and later settled in Atlanta. After several years investing in tourism in the Caribbean, he realized South Africa was where it was at. "This is the place for African Americans," he says. "As African Americans, this is home for us. We are African by blood and DNA, so we should claim a right to Africa. And just as important, there is a great opportunity for African Americans to do very well here financially." And then he says, with great emphasis, "This is the African Century!"

That night, we check out a live broadcast and recording by a jazz band at the South African Broadcasting Company. The concert is part of "The Wonder Gig Series," a series of concerts that provides an outlet for many of the unheralded jazz greats of South Africa to perform for live audiences. We listen and jam to saxman Robby Jansen, a Cape Town brotha whose band reminds me of Spyro Gyra.

Next morning we check into the Table Bay Hotel, in the waterfront area of Cape Town. I looked out on the majestic Table Mountain and knew immediately why some racist white settlers wanted this divinely beautiful place all to themselves. The majestic, table-shaped mountain lies adrift in the crystal-capped bay. It is said that on cloudy days, the clouds settle just over the mountain and it appears that the mountain has a tablecloth on it. Sailboats are docked in the harbor and flocks of tourists stroll leisurely by. It is all very cosmopolitan. I could easily be in Sydney or San Francisco.

Day 9
Wine in South Africa...Who Knew?

Rolling hills look like dusty blankets flapping in the wind outside my car window. We are speeding by the Winelands of South Africa, headed to Nelson's Creek and New Beginnings wineries. The weather is noticeably hotter, a Mediterranean climate. It all looks and feels very much like Northern California's Napa Valley.

Nelson's Creek winery is one of South Africa's most highly-regarded wineries and begun selling wine in 1993. The farm dates back to 1692 and the area, the foothills of the majestic Paarl mountain, flows with crystal clear waters which nourish the vineyards. The first vineyard in the area was established by the French Huguenots on a beautiful farm in the fertile Windmeal Valley, situated some 65 km from Cape Town.

In 1997, the owner Alan Nelson, donated a portion of the winery's land to 25 black laborers (16 families) of Nelson's Creek. The winery, called New Beginnings, is the first black-owned and operated winery in South Africa with grapes grown on their own land. Many of the black farmers were illiterate and the new responsibilities of running a winery were supported with the guidance of South Africa's only black Master Winemaker, Victor Titus, also an employee of Nelson's Creek.

Solly Skippers, Vineyard Manager of New Beginnings, says the experience of making wine by their own methods was liberating. "When we work for other farmers we are always told when and how to do things," says Skippers. "On this land we do it like Frank Sinatra, 'Our Way.'" Skippers, who was born on the farm and grew up along side his father working in the vineyard, has no formal schooling. But he understands what it takes to make good grapes. He understands the soil and the climate. "A lot of wine makers coming from University can learn a little from me," he says. The first bottles of wine sold by New Beginnings were a huge hit in South Africa and sold out quickly. The wine is now available internationally, including here in the States.

After learning about the history of New Beginnings, we have lunch at the winery restaurant and then take a tour of the wine cellars and have a tasting lesson. Learning about the fermentation process and how to smell, sip and taste is an enlivening experience. Nelson's Creek has won awards for its Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cinsaut, Chenin Blanc and Muscat. The wines range in flavor from woodsy and dry to light and fruity. Later, I go to sleep, wishing I'd bought a few bottles of wine to take home.

Day 10
Island Imprisonment

On a slightly overcast Cape Town day, we head down to the pier to board a boat bound for Robben Island, the infamous island prison in Cape Town bay where Nelson Mandela was locked up for many years. The ride across the bay is brisk and as we approach the island I can't help thinking of Alcatraz back home.

In the early days, when white Dutch settlers came to South Africa to steal it from the San people (indigenous Africans), many Xhosa Chiefs were banned to the island. Lepers and other outcasts were also banned to the island. During W.W.I.I., the island was occupied by defense forces. In 1948, Robben Island became the "hellhole" of the apartheid regime. During apartheid, the island was used mainly to hold political prisoners of the ANC, such as Nelson Mandela and Robert Sobukwe and many others. We tour the grounds of the island, see its hospital, post office and general store. In the prison we see how inmates lived their daily lives, we learn about how they were forbidden to speak to each other.

When we come to the cell that held Mandela for 16 of the 27 years he was imprisoned, many stop and grab the bars, peer inside. It is a solemn moment. Some study the cell closely, perhaps looking for a trace of his fighting spirit lingering in the stone cracks. We visit the lime quarries where ANC freedom fighters did back-breaking work and began to form alliances to begin the ANC. It was here in the quarries where Mandela said: "We are going to turn Robben Island into our own university."

Day 11
The Seat of South African Government

We, the people of South Africa,
Recognise the injustices of our past;
Honour those who suffered for justice and freedom in our land;
Respect those who have worked to build and develop our country;
Believe that South Africa belongs to all who live in it, united in our diversity.
-- a Preamble excerpt from South Africa's new constitution. which was adopted in May 1996

Today we get an early start. We head downtown where we will get a tour of Parliament. South Africa's Parliament is composed of two parts: the National Assembly, a body of elected officials to represent the people; and the National Council of Provinces, a group of mostly appointed officials to represent the interests of the country's many provinces. The high-security building is impressive and many of the chambers have a very "British" look about them.

After the tour, we head to the cultural market downtown, where many West African vendors sell jewelry, clothing, woodcarvings, and other cultural items. After that I hook up with a brother who goes by the name of "Suede." He is an African American photographer from Brooklyn and Atlanta (we met aboard the boat ride to Robben Island) who has made Cape Town his home. We decide to go clubbing and are joined by his wife, a young sista from Zimbabwe and his friend, Morgan, another woman from LA who is visiting South Africa for the first time.

The club scene in Cape Town is jumping. Kinda similar to New Orleans. People hang out on streetcorner cafes and hip cigar bars such as Kennedy's (as in JFK) where "the beautiful people" trade glances and puff beneath large-framed photos of Hollywood idols. Out on the strip, hip hop and house music blares from open terraces, where inside a multi-hued mix of young people drink and dance. "Some of the clubs are definitely more suburban," informs Suede. "Which means they are mostly black."

It's a funny twist on words, because in the States black folks are associated with "urban" areas. Here blackfolk still, for the most part, live in the townships, outside of t