Here I am

Well, it’s been almost 3 weeks in Cape Town now, and I think it’s safe for me to say that I'm never coming home! This place is magical--from the astounding natural beauty, to the posh, multi-million dollar homes on the waterfront, to even the desperate townships that line the edge of the Cape Town's many highways. My short time here has been like nothing I've ever experienced before--for so many reasons.

First and foremost, I am so lucky to have the 7 most amazing roommates alive. Truly. We all live in big house that has many different suites. Charlie (from Montana), Chris (from Oklahoma), and Patrick (from Connecticut) share one, Jenna (from New York) and Akiyah (from Boston) share, and I share with Madeline (from Pennsylvania) and Amber (from Wyoming).

You know that saying, it’s not what you’re doing, it's who you’re with? Yes, well, I am with great people--and we could be doing anything (telling stories and sweating at the dinner table, lying at the beach, cleaning the house, seeing wild baboons run and roam the highway...) and I can guarantee at least half of us will be laughing, all of us smiling. We come from such different places, and are such dramatically different people, that it's impossible to get bored. It was such a strange but amazingly comforting feeling to find out that I had 7 best friends from all over the country just waiting to all be brought together.

Within our own individual suites, we have our own kitchens and bathrooms and also...our own rooms. When we first saw our place, I think everyone was in total shock. While I always knew parts of Cape Town were very nice, I had no idea my own living arrangements would be so comfortable. I don't even have my own room at home! Having working ovens, microwaves, refrigerators, showers with hot water, toilets, and internet (although it’s expensive!), I feel like I'm getting spoiled. It’s not exactly the, to use the South African slang word, "bush" that you think of when you picture Africa.

Our house is in one of Cape Town's neighborhoods/suburbs called Mowbray, which is an amazing location. A little rough at night (where isn’t?), Mowbray is a great place to call home. It’s bordered by all the other Cape Town suburbs, including Observatory, which has a little more nightlife and other kids our age, so we've been taking full advantage of the proximity. Downtown Cape Town is a ten minute or so drive into the city by a “mini bus” which is actually just a van packed with as many people as possible (20ish?) that takes you pretty much anywhere in the city you want to go for around the cost of a dollar.

All of the houses (including my own), in any neighborhood of Cape Town, are fully secured. Any property you see will have multiple faces, gates, barbwire, locks, and/or emergency intruder detection services--a constant reminder that South Africa, this beautiful, mesmerizing place, is hardly a paradise. More on that later. I want to first get you up to speed on some of the major stuff that will help you understand what I’m talking about later.

1. Cape Town is a city that resides in the Western Cape, and the Western Cape is a providence that resides in South Africa (the same way that Chicago is a city that resides in Illinois, and Illinois resides in the United States).

2. While South Africa is so much like the United States in terms of immigration groups, there are three main categories of people here (classified by race): "Whites" (people who look like me), "Blacks"--or "Africans" (people who look traditionally “African”), and "Coloureds." Coloured people are people who are any shade of brown that have a mix of European, Middle Eastern or Indian, African, or Asian blood. This means there are, immediately, three distinct languages, cultures, and identities in Cape Town--but really there are an infinite number of cultures to explore in this country, all intricate and worth learning about (time, time, time…).

3. Apartheid. This may be a very familiar term for some, but I know many are unaware of South African history. Apartheid was the government that ruled South Africa from 1948-1994. It wasn't democratic or fair, and it wasn't unlike Jim Crow laws in the United States. Apartheid was a system of legal racial segregation enforced by the National Party government. The government segregated the land, education, medical care, and other public services by race (usually into just two races: "Whites" and "Non-Whites," and provided Black and Coloured people with services unspeakably inferior to those of White people. On its own, apartheid is a tragedy. But even worse than the laws where the people. Everyone was really, really mean to each other. No one was allowed to love or appreciate anyone other than their own kind. South Africa, for quite some time, was a country fueled by hatred, ignorance, violence, and fear. Then, after decades of apartheid resistance and mounting opposition, by Blacks, Coloureds, and a growing population of White people, the then-president began negotiations to end apartheid, culminating in multi-racial democratic elections in 1994, which were won by the African National Congress under Nelson Mandela (who is practically a God to all of South Africa…and also on his deathbed in Johannesburg—another South African topic that I could go on and on about). Apartheid is no longer the government here, and segregation is illegal, but it’s only been 16 years since its abolishment. The city is still profoundly segregated and there is so much racism on a general level. While individuals seems to get along just fine, I can’t tell you how many racial slurs I’ve heard when people speak about groups as a whole, and how much distrust I’ve picked up on across racial groups.

In my classes at school I'll be learning more about why there was such extreme racially fueled hatred, but I think I could look to the history of my own country to get many of these answers. In the meantime, I try to talk about race to anyone who will speak with me about it (my program director, our shuttle driver, my new South African friends [both black and white], my classmates, my roommates, etc.)

4. My university, the University of the Western Cape is now a "multi-racial" (aka Black and Coloured) university that I chose for the cultural experience I would get by not being in a classroom full of White kids (which is exactly what class is like for me at U of I). I always thought that UWC was opened during Apartheid as an anti-Apartheid movement to give Blacks and Coloured people a chance to get an equal education previously denied to them. How wrong was I. UWC was opened as part of the Apartheid regime—intended to segregate White people (who generally attended class at the prestigious University of Cape Town) from Black and Coloured people and to keep the racial divide vast. The educational difference was so enormous and the education offered at UWC so inferior, that Black and Coloured people actually protested attending the university until 1982, when the university rejected the apartheid ideology formally in its mission statement. During the next year, the university gained the same autonomy as white universities through the University of the Western Cape Act. While UWC is now a prestigious university, it has a ways to travel before it offers an equal classroom-education as the University of Cape Town (or other previously White-only universities in South Africa). However, we all know there is much more to learn in life than the lessons on the blackboards.

I could easily go into detail about each and every minute of my last few weeks and tell you how perfect each one was, but I'll try not to bore you with all that.

I will say that my classes are interesting, engaging and more difficult than I expected (oh, the bitter-sweetness…).

Registration for classes was perhaps the most maddening processes of my life. A good lesson in patience and a good reminder that there are so, so many things we just can’t control.

Cape Point (the most Southern tip of Africa) and the Cape of Good Hope (the mountain in Cape Point where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Indian) was one of the most inspiring and spectacular sights I’ve ever seen.

My tour of Robben Island (the prison where Nelson Mandela was held for 18 of his 27 years of imprisonment) was difficult for me to process, and, at the time, very anticlimactic. Only now, days later, am I reflecting on what exactly it is I saw there, and how I feel about it.

Greenmarket Square has put me back more money than I’d like to admit…but every single bracelet I bought for myself (all 7 of them!) I absolutely needed.

The impoverished townships all over the city are where I can’t wait to start getting to know. My volunteering and service work starts soon. I’ll keep you posted.

Please wait for pictures of Bo’Kaap (the-literally-brightly colored Muslim neighborhood in the city center). The photos will be far more descriptive than I could ever be.

The sunsets here are positively stunning.

And because this blog entry is already absurdly long (if you’re still here with me, thank you!), here is the link to my first photo album on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2063859&id=1143060092&l=c8788694fe. A picture is worth a thousand words, but this scenery is worth ten thousand. Ten million. Ten million and one.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said this, but Cape Town is amazing (I even woke my roommates Amber and Charlie up one night after midnight when they heard me yelling “I LOVE CAPE TOWN!” off the balcony into the sky…whoops!) . Racism, corruption, poverty, and harsh inequality aren’t amazing. They’re hard to look at and difficult to hear about. But what is life if not millions of stories all at a crossroads? And I feel so lucky that my own story is intertwining with those here. Some stories I hear here are about hardship, frustration, hate and helplessness. Others are ones of pride, perseverance, respect, love of family, and love of country. So yes, racism, corruption, poverty, and harsh inequality tell stories here, but I am here to listen. So I still say Cape Town is amazing.
And even as I type this on my balcony, watching the sun set behind Devil's peak, I know how much more I have to learn, see, and feel.

Until next time,

sas

PS: I have no idea how to blog, so if there is something you’re particularly interested in, please tell me. I can write about whatever!

PPS:
I don’t know if you all like Paul Simon much, but I wish I could explain to you how much his Graceland album is meaning to me right now. It’s a bit strange. I've always had the album, and I've always loved You Can Call Me Al, but I never got really into the rest of it. Also, I always knew he recorded most of it in South Africa. He collaborated with a bunch of South African musicians and plays African instruments and styles and it's so so so so amazing. But I never really thought about or appreciated any of it before. Now that I'm here, it's this whole other thing. My connection to this album is almost spiritual.

So if you’re interested, listen to the track Under African Skies or I Know What I Know. Maybe you’ll feel a connection to the music like I do. Happy listening!

Why I'm Going Where I'm Going

Just to give you some background information about why I'm headed to Cape Town before I begin my journey, I've copy and pasted my Statement of Purpose below. The Statement of Purpose is the essay I had to include in my application to be accepted into the study abroad program that I'm particiapting in. Happy readings!


Sarah Shaw’s Statement of Purpose

I sat in Chala Holland’s classroom as an 18-year-old woman, looking around at only a few familiar faces. The setting was typical of a high school classroom: desks, chalkboards, posters and art on the walls. The faint smell of sweat lingering on t-shirt collars after P.E. and freshly Xeroxed photocopies both loitered the air. It was eighth period, so even the sounds were distinctive and customary: students’ after-lunch chatter, the crumpling of an empty bag of chips, the ripping of a piece of paper from its spiral binding. It was the class that wasn’t typical. At least not for me. African American Studies, for a White female—a White anybody—was rather unusual.

Although I grew up in a very racially diverse suburb of Chicago, it was rare for me to be in a racially diverse classroom after the age of 12. The segregation in our town’s education system, when looked at blatantly, was irrefutable. “Honors” and “Advanced Placement” classes—levels 4 and 5—were dominantly White students, “Regular” classes—level 3—were dominantly Black students, and 1 and 2 level classes were almost entirely Black and other colored minorities. Being in Honors classes all four years of high school, I had never experienced being a minority in a classroom until I signed up for African American studies. It was in that classroom that my eyes were opened by a truly influential and inspiring teacher, Chala Holland, to the lives of the people that walked the same halls and lived in the same town as I did, but led dramatically different lives in major ways. Since my senior year in high school, I’ve continued to educate myself on issues of race by reading, taking relevant classes, and participating in active and lively dialogue with peers, professors and others educated—and some not so educated—on the subject.

Racial disparities, relations and institutionalized racism, in my opinion, are some of the most imperative and central issues our world faces. They encompass so much more than blatant racial discrimination and prejudice—but are relevant in issues of healthcare, policy making and reform, education, and our global markets. It is this umbrella of issues that truly fascinate, excite, and motive me to learn, connect, and advocate change. To study, observe, and further understand the veracity of this vast and broad issue in a country like South Africa, where Apartheid ruled into such recent decades, would be a truly intriguing and intellectually stimulating experience. I would feel both thrilled and privileged to live and learn in a city so rich with multicultural history.

Throughout college, studying abroad has been such a high priority that I’ve planned out my following four semesters—up until graduation—to make sure I am able to fulfill this aspiration. In fact, I am so dedicated to studying at the University of Western Cape that my next semester at the University of Illinois consists of four advanced journalism-specific classes required for graduation, which is two or three more than the usual course load for journalism majors. While at UWC I plan to take full advantage of the history and political sciences courses that can deepen my knowledge and understanding of the intricacy of race as a functioning system.

Moreover, I am confident that I will adjust to my new environment with grace and vigor because of my deep love for travel and fresh experiences. Having traveled all over the United States, and also to South and Central America and Europe, I’ve come to feel most comfortable in places where knowledge is aplenty and adventure seeps from new streets. I hold close to my heart the feeling of bold and brilliant inspiration and hopefulness I get from traveling. I hope I am fortunate enough to experience that same feeling in Cape Town come next January. Even more so, however, I hope to learn so much that is different: about the complexities of color in a racially profound world.