Township Tour, or Human Safari?

Walking through one of the poorer parts of Langa

If you've been reading our posts since we've been in South Africa, you know that we have been volunteering in the township of Khayelitsha.  However, due to safety concerns, we had to stay within the Baphumelele complex for the duration of our three day shifts, so we were not able to see much of Khayelitsha.  We signed up for a township tour to get closer, even though I was somewhat apprehensive about taking a tour that whisks tourists around to see how the less fortunate live.  That uneasy feeling didn't abate throughout the tour and I left with mixed emotions.

Townships in South Africa are settlement areas that were reserved for non-whites, beginning in the late 19th century through the end of the Apartheid.  Even though they had already been around for fifty years by the time the Apartheid had been codified, the South African government took things to a whole new level by evicting large groups of people from areas designated as "white only" and forcibly moving them into townships.  They've played an important role in modern South African history, notably with the uprising in the township of Soweto close to Johannesburg that can be considered the beginning of the end of the Apartheid.  While conditions in townships have vastly improved since suffrage was extended to "blacks" and "coloureds" (Apartheid terms) in 1994, with some established townships developing middle and upper class areas, they are still plagued with a myriad of problems, most notably HIV/AIDS and crime.

We spent most of our tour in Langa, Cape Town's first township and the one closest to the city.  The first stop was a Baptist church during service.  The structure, seemingly inspired in design by a large tool shed, was a far cry from the grand churches we saw in Europe, but it was filled with a raucous and moving energy.  The gospel singing arrangements and the contagious dancing was very reminiscent of services in black Baptist churches in the American South.  The sermons and songs were in a mix of English and Xhosa, but luckily the lyrics were put up on a projector so Magge and I were able working on our Xhosa singing skills.  The church was full, but roughly a third of those inside the building were tourists crammed in the last few rows, many of them taking pictures and/or video of the service.  Magge and I both felt somewhat uncomfortable with the zoo-like treatment the church received, although we did enjoy the service itself.

After church we passed a "smiley" stand.  What's a smiley?  I'm glad you asked.  They are roasted goat heads sold for consumption for the low price of thirty-four South African Rand each (just under $5).  When cooked, the skin tightens, showing the animal's teeth and giving the township treat its name (and it is considered a treat, as the head is widely acknowledged in these parts to have the best meat of the entire animal).  I think I was the only one in the group to have a legitimate interest in trying a smiley instead of merely regarding them as grotesque curiosities.  Unfortunately, it was too early in the day for the smileys to be ready, so I'll have to wait until next time.  When we passed three goats walking down the street, I said, "Look, future smileys" and only our guide, a Langa resident, laughed.

Maybe I should have put a warning before this picture.  Smileys prior to roasting.

The next stop was a shebeen.  Shebeens are (usually) unlicensed bars and the focal point of social life in townships, especially for men.  Again, Magge and I felt somewhat uncomfortable, this time because many of the patrons had to give up their seats to us tourists, all the while getting photographed.  Once seated, we were treated to umqombothi, traditional Xhosa beer brewed from maize and sorghum.  It came in a giant tin container and everyone took turns taking sips before we left, probably much to the pleasure of the displaced drinkers.

We then went into three different types of township dwellings: a converted "hostel" (former public housing built for migrant workers), a more recently constructed government house and a shack.  With each home, our entire group paraded through while the residents were there and carried on their normal business.  While it undoubtedly gave us a close look at the realities of township living, I couldn't help but feel that I was on a safari.

The townships I've described may remind you of the barrios where we volunteered outside of Trujillo, Peru.  Ostensibly, they are similar.  They are both underdeveloped settlements, with large amounts of people lacking direct access to running water and electricity.  However, the Cape Town townships we've visited are much more vibrant than the Trujillo barrios: they possess more economic activity, with numerous small businesses set up in old shipping containers, fruit stands, meat grills and more; more people are out in the streets talking to each other; more music spilling out from homes; more life.  Yes, the townships are fraught with problems, but there is still a greater, or at least more palpable, sense of community.  The barrios by comparison were ghost towns. 

On the drive back to our house, I wasn't sure how to feel about the whole experience.  Our guide told us that the township residents don't mind the visitors and their pictures; in fact, he said, many of them want foreigners to come and see them in the hopes that it spurs action for improvement.  Additionally, the tours provide employment and some of the money finds its way into the townships in the form of education programs.  That helped ease my thoughts marginally, but I still wish the tours could find a way to be less intrusive.

This is not the church where we attended service.  That church was much larger and nicer.