Soweto

If you've heard of any township in South Africa you'll know of Soweto (originally an acronym - SOWETO - for southwestern township), which rocketed onto the world (and, more to the point, South African) stage as the heart of black consciousness and resistance to Apartheid in the mid 1970s, and today is the biggest township in the country with a population of over 3.5 million. Soweto is a symbol, if not a synonym, for the struggle against the institutionalized racism, discrimination, and brutalization of Apartheid. In 1976, during a demonstration by some 15,000 students opposed to the enforcement of Afrikaans as a requirement in school, over one hundred Sowetan children and teenagers were killed by the police. Survivors were chased, beaten, arrested, and tear-gassed by Mig jets. Although it ended in a massacre, the event revealed an irreversible tide of mass resistance among the black population, and a public revelation that could not be ignored by the world. It was still almost twenty more years of ruthless repression, countered by strikes, protests, international condemnation and ostracization, and terrorism, before the majority of South Africans were granted equal rights (including the right to an education in their own language - South Africa is perhaps a record-holder with eleven official languages today), but the “power” that was mobilized in Soweto marked the beginning of the end of Apartheid.

I went with friends to a party in Soweto this weekend. It was a joint six-year anniversary for a local backpacker's hostel (one of several that have sprung up recently to accommodate growing numbers of domestic and international pilgrims to this fabled township) as well as the 30th birthday of the hostel's owner, Lebo.

There was some anxiety in our car when we got lost immediately upon entering Soweto, a degree of stress-induced irritation at the complete absence of street signs, and perhaps a touch of what might have been fear at the approach of a rather large man shouting something about “kaka” and pointing at us (we think he might have felt we almost ran over his kids). However, we made it to Lebo's safe and sound, where we found ourselves in an oasis of calm amidst the rush and rabble of Johannesburg proper. The party was great, though the sleep was less so. I shared a tent in the garden with Thomas, a new German friend, and there couldn't have been more than half an hour between when the music and shouting finally stopped, and when the most insistent rooster I have ever wanted to lay my hands on started crowing about a foot from my head.

In the morning (I was up before 7 and keeping company with the brain teaser section of the Walrus magazine, but those with a cement wall between themselves and Insistent Rooster got an extra 2 or 3 hours) Lebo took us on a good long walk around town. We stopped first at the Hector Pietersen memorial, which commemorates all of the young people who died in June 1976. A famous picture of the dying Hector became a powerful image of Apartheid and the struggle against it. It was a special opportunity to learn about Soweto's history for Lebo, who had actually been on the streets on that day - a baby on his grandmother's back.

From there we went by the houses of three famous South Africans: Nelson Mandela (who lived there before going to prison, and returned very briefly upon his release), Desmond Tutu, and Winnie Mandela, who still lives in a mansion in Soweto, under the protection of more bodyguards than Thabo Mbeki, according to Lebo!

A good piece of trivia: Soweto's Vilakazi Street is the only road in the world that was home (at the same time no less) to two Nobel Peace Prize winners (Mandela and Tutu).

It was an eye-opening weekend, and spending the time in Soweto has made me feel a little more connected to, and comfortable in this country. Much of this, I think, has to do with all the local people we met at the hostel and on our walk - greeting us from across the street with warm smiles and “Welcome to Soweto!!” I felt really content and down to earth while I was there. Watching kids playing soccer (flat ball; one end of the field a good 20 feet higher than the other). Chatting with Charles, big tooth missing, blue coveralls, sad eyes, who stayed up all night keeping watch over the cars parked outside. Insistent Rooster. Teddy, or Freddy, drunk, who had a life story to tell but never quite came around to it. Lebo's brother, Philip, who joined me on a bench in the early morning, and promptly fell asleep after taking a go at one of the brain teasers for about three minutes. Staying warm beside big charcoal fire. There is a little less of the unknown in South Africa this week than there was last, and I am eager to get out there again to peel back a few more layers!

More photos here: http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/philipkakins/album?.dir=fcf7

Also, notice the mine tailings in the background of the photo above. These "hills" dominate the horizon everywhere in Johannesburg.