Soweto Sights

July 29th, 2011    Posted in Latest News

Jay-key in Soweto

July 28th, 2011    Posted in Latest News

Howzit? Is it (thank you for the spelling corrections Bridgette!). Wakka wakka bafana bafana, ja. I apologise for the tardiness of this post but internet access has been sporadic. If you are expecting a humorous look at life in the slum, stop reading now. Even Jay-key can’t be flippant about poverty. Having said that…

I had never been to a place like Soweto. Extreme poverty surrounded me in Moçambique but this was different. Soweto is a vast township, home to 3.5 million people. I won’t bore you with the history of Soweto’s development – you have Google for that. Soweto is vibrant, noisy and throbbing with diverse sights and smells. If you are a germaphobe like me, this is not the place for you.

The contrast between the so-called posh areas like Diepkloof Extension and the shanty towns is startling. This wasn’t like driving past Beetham Gardens and Sea Lots to get to Westmoorings. I’m certain a significant percentage of Soweto’s residents would view a move to Sea Lots as an upgrade.

Our journey began in Montecasino, an upmarket and beautifully manicured suburb of Jo’burg. So far I’ve avoided the Westcott penchant for attracting mishaps. Still, it should come as no surprise to you that Jay-key and her driver Jonathan spent half an hour waiting at the wrong pick up point before the penny dropped. Not that I was complaining, mind you. Jonathan was good company and chatted about his view of life in South Africa from the perspective of a young, white English-speaking person.

I shared a minivan with four British tourists from Maputo and our Soweto-born tour guide Simon. In one of those freaky six degrees of separation coincidences, one of my travelling companions was the daughter of someone my husband and I knew in Moçambique. (Bridgette – do you remember John Spears?)

After a brief photo stop at Soccer City (impressive) it was on to Diepkloof Extension, the Beverly Hills of Soweto. The houses (or stands as our guide called them) were small and initially to my Western eyes, typical of a lower middle class neighbourhood. The difference? The sleek autos squeezed onto the small driveways. My house may be small, but check out my ride.

Sitting snugly next to Diepkloof extension is Diepkloof hostel. Originally built as barracks for migrant labour, it has been transformed into what our guide Simon referred to as “informal family dwellings”. Trini translation – a squatter community. No running water, no inside plumbing and no electricity. If you looked closely you could see tiny wires running across the road from the street lights in Diepkloof to the occupied barracks. Gotta juice up the satellite dish somehow.

In Baragwanath Precinct we walked through the dusty streets taking in the overwhelming sights, sounds and smells. Might as well have put a big sign over my head saying “Clueless Foreigner carrying camera, two cell phones, American dollars and credit cards. Come get me.” Jonathan’s advice was ringing in my ears – “Try not to look foreign. You stand out too much.” Perhaps I should have left the Coach handbag at the hotel.

I was fascinated by the potions, dried roots and herbal concoctions in the traditional healer’s shop. (I use the word shop loosely – it was a cubby hole in a covered market). Not surprisingly, a popular item is a bark for men only. Honestly – the lengths (pun intended) men the world over go to.

The cow head meat seller stationed next to the outdoor barber shop was doing a roaring trade. People lined up alongside the pile of bloody cow skulls to purchase dripping parcels of meat. Something told me I’d be wasting my time if I asked to see his Food Safety Badge.

Our next stop was Orlando Shanty Town. Can I just say, I will SLAP the next person who complains about poverty in T&T. You people have NO idea. Orlando was a miserable and depressing manifestation of the human condition. Squalor on an unimaginable scale. I thought of my lovely new bathroom with granite countertops and mosaic tiles. I suspect a rain shower has a whole different meaning in Orlando. The South African Government is trying to address the housing issue though. Several government houses have been built and many more are under construction.

Many years ago I visited the former concentration camp Dachau in Germany. It was the most depressing place on earth. Hector Pieterson Museum is a close second. Do I need to explain who Hector Pieterson was? I’m not going to. Google Soweto riots 1976.

Visiting the Hector Pieterson Museum was like taking educational Buckleys. Unpleasant, but good for you. Viewing apartheid era artefacts is not exactly cheerful. But we need these reminders of the past to prevent us making the same mistakes in the future.

Our final stop was Nelson Mandela’s first home in Soweto. This tiny house has been restored and opened to the public. It was a fascinating look at Madiba’s early life with Evelyn (his first wife) and Winnie. (Incidentally Winnie Mandela’s current home in Soweto is a rather flash affair. You can’t miss it.) Our guide showed us the sacred tree in the garden under which the umbilical cords of the Mandela grandchildren are buried, according to African tradition. Umm….OK…

We parked outside Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s house but did not go inside. The Archbishop inconveniently still lives there and would prefer not to have thousands of tourists trooping through his living room every day. I don’t see the problem myself. Liz opens Buck House to the masses in the summer. Surely Tutu can see the commercial opportunities?

Contrast my visit to Soweto with a trip to Sandton City the next day. Sandton is THE posh suburb of Jo’burg and boasts a huge shopping mall. One of the hotel managers took me out for breakfast and a walk around the mall. It was undeniably pleasant and reminded me of several “first world” city areas. With images of Soweto still pounding my subconscious it was impossible not to contemplate the enormous gulf between the haves and the have-not-a-firetrucking-two-cents-to-rub-togethers.

Such a great city. Such beauty, such poverty; such great wine at amazing prices! A decent bottle of vino for $40TT and a great bottle for $95TT. I would move to the Cape Town tomorrow for the booze alone.
As I bid goodbye to Jo’burg my thoughts turn to Swaziland and the adventure that awaits me there. Jay-key is ready. Bring it.

The Johannesburg Chronicles – Deel Twee

July 22nd, 2011    Posted in Latest News

How’s it! Is it? Jay-key’s turned native, ya. Had my first taste of authentic South African cuisine in the form of atcha (spelling?). Imagine a spherical fried bake, split and filled with beef mince and mango pickle. Staple winter fare in the townships, I’m told. Delicious.
I’ll say this for the South Africans – they take food seriously, ya. We had roasted suckling pig for lunch yesterday. Roasted suckling pig. Tell me a training course you’ve been on where roast pig and pap were on the menu. And don’t talk about the fillet steak I had for dinner. Tonight’s offering was Durban-style chicken curry washed down with a dry Nederburg white. As it’s Friday, a band was playing in the restaurant. Think Spinal Tap on Prosac singing Hotel California and you would not even be close.
My inability to speak any African language is a source of amusement to the hotel staff. They look at me; smile and shake their heads as if to say “Poor thing. She only look black”. The restaurant staff have collectively decided I need fattening up and keep slipping me extra portions of food and tasty tidbits I can’t pronounce let alone describe.
It was not until yesterday that I worked out when South Africans ask “Where do you stay?” they mean “Where do you live?”. That explained the puzzled looks when I replied “Room 102”. NOBODY knows where Trinidad and Tobago is. WTF? Is the West Indies Cricket Team THAT bad?? Brian Lara? Dwight Yorke? Nicki Minaj?
I’m already hooked on Isidingo, a local soap opera. Think Black, Bold and Beautiful. The acting is so horrendous I keep expecting to see a lumberjack running across the screen yelling “Timber!” The show is in English – with English subtitles – presumably a nod to no-one outside South Africa understanding a word.
Isidingo is partially assuaging my Coronation St withdrawal symptoms. Texted Hannah today for a Corrie update – only for her to respond that they weren’t watching it. WTF? Do my children have NO sense of what matters in life?
But seriously folks. I need to know if Nikiwe is going to throw Jefferson under the bus. And what is Sechaba up to? May have to investigate satellite options when I get home. Speaking of South African TV, I’ve noted the alarming frequency of advertisements for funeral insurance. Hmm. What does this say about South African society?
Loud, persistent banging on my door at 5am this morning roused me from my bed of ants. Jay-key was expecting this. Several of the travel advisories and blogs I read before my trip warned that tourists are frequently approached in their hotel rooms in the wee hours by men pretending to be security personnel.
So of course I opened the door, ya. I was greeted by what looked like a rugby prop brandishing a walkie-talkie (or was it a truncheon? Too dark to tell). He was equally surprised to see me – muttered something (in English, I think?) and scampered. Weird.
The course participants are so friendly I truly will be sorry to say goodbye to them. They surprised me today with a gift presented by the company Chairman. An Orient Express leather wallet, Company branded flash drive, and a beautiful fleece jacket. Wow!
In fact everyone I’ve met has been welcoming, helpful and friendly. I’ve given up trying to pronounce the black African names. Pointing and nodding works perfectly fine, ya.
They’re fighting over themselves to plan my weekend activities. “Jay-key. You mast see de ray-al South Africa.” I’m game, ya. The CEO very kindly arranged for me to take a tour of Soweto tomorrow. Here’s a sample of the tour itinerary:
“Visit Orlando Shanty town and see poverty at close quarters before heading to Orlando West and Winnie Mandela House”.
Gulp. What the hell have I let myself in for…to be continued.

Southern Africa Adventures – Abeo on the Move

July 18th, 2011    Posted in Latest News

I made it! Traveled to South Africa incident free – the Westcott gift for cock-ups did not manifest itself (maybe because I was traveling solo?) and all my luggage arrived intact, including the troublesome box of training materials (Ha ha Simon! Ye of little faith).
South African Airways did their best to make the long flight bearable. By the way – biggest plane I’ve ever been on. I was in row 74 at the very back of the plane. Tail end could have been in Canada; I had to walk at least a mile to my seat.
What does one do on a fifteen hour flight? Watch three movies, read, listen to iPod, watch two episodes of Vampire Diaries on iPad, people watch, fidget, sleep and become very, very restless. Brief excitement when the Afrikaaner family sitting opposite decided to have a full on family brawl. Highly entertaining and too short-lived. Things were just getting interesting when the eldest son broke down in tears and had to be physically restrained in his seat by the father.
Brooke Smith, ex-Grays Anatomy actress (remember her? She was Callie’s first lesbian lover?) was on my flight. She was very friendly and super nice to talk to. We were half way through our conversation before I realised who she was.
Arrived in cold, sunny Johannesburg tired and desperately in need of a shower. On my way to the hotel I drove past a sign boldly advertising penile enhancement. Curiously this was right next to a sign advertising plumbing repairs. Could the two services be related? The mobile numbers on the signs looked eerily similar. One stop shop? But I digress.
The hotel – well. It’s basic but clean and functional. From the state of the furnishings I’m guessing it hasn’t been renovated for some time. My bed was covered with ants; the maid stripped the bed and vacuumed the mattress. Just a few little visitors left.
I spent the weekend sleeping, acclimatizing, preparing my material and reacquainting myself with South African wine. (Nederburg Rose! How I’ve missed you!) Luckily the course is being held at my hotel so despite waking up two hours late this morning I just made it to the conference room in time.
The participants are a mixed group, all senior managers at a regulatory authority. An interesting bunch – very talkative and engaged; and seemingly enjoying our interaction thus far. I’m struggling a bit with the South African accent – and being half deaf doesn’t make it any easier – but I think I’m following the gist of what they are saying. God alone knows what they make of my Anglo-Trini twang.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow. This is going to be a good week.