South African thoughts...

Two days and counting until Tchad…

My impression of South Africa has been slightly skewed so far, though I plan to give it another chance to redeem itself. Everyone I’ve spoken to around here, S.A. natives included, have all said the same thing: Johannesburg is not South Africa. It would be similar to a foreign tourist visiting Detroit and assuming all of America was of it’s magnificent caliber. Not a realistic or fair representation.

Johannesburg was born a mining town and it sits above one of the planets largest veins of gold. To this day it still seems a mining-industrial town at heart, as evidenced by huge tailing piles surrounding its perimeter and the billowing smoke rising from its abundant exhaust stacks. At night, from 9000 feet it is transformed into a peaceful light show, and its downtown looks as safe as Main St. in Durango on Christmas Eve. Yet it is here at 9000 feet that my CAA examiner noted the other evening, “this is about as close to downtown Joberg as I would safely come”, to which the accompanying instructor agreed promptly. Wussy South Africans? Maybe, but I’ve also heard two attempted car jacking stories, one shooting for a cell phone, and one attempted rape story from 1 cleaner who works in the simulator building we use. Its not renown for its great repertoire.

But yesterday, Sunday (which may explain it) Ed and I ventured into, thru, around, up and down Johannesburg and found it relatively benign. Its main center seems like any other city that is a bit down on its luck, or economically depressed. A few streets either side of ’Main street’ though and the area gets quite shady. It had a bit of a (African) San Pedro Sula, that Honduran shithole of a city, feel to it (dirty, impoverished and scary, you know what I‘m talking about Eric). Yet even on those roads, where we got caught amongst pedestrian crowds, and weren’t able to move a foot in either direction, while we were nervously envisioning the imminent armed car-jacking, someone would peek inside our windshield, smile genuinely and give us the thumbs up, which is the S.A. equivalent of ’Wazzup’. A friend amongst a crowd is better than none at all.

Not too far off, maybe 15kms or so from these slummy backstreets is the area known as Soweto, which is famous for its sacrificial contributions towards the end of apartheid. It was in those dusty shanty streets that a famous 1976 riot began in which police opened fire on school children, drawing the world‘s attention and condemnation. The social unrest which emanated from Soweto and other amazingly destitute shanties around the country helped spawn the Freedom Fighters whose constant attacks factored into FW de Klerk’s decision to dismantle the apartheid regime and usher in democratic elections which took place in 1994.

Here is the South Africa I’ve seen so far…

Paranoia, as I’ve mentioned numerous times before, runs rampant. At first I thought it was only the whites here that were so absorbed with the real and imagined lawlessness, but I’ve recently found its not such a black and white matter (pun intended). But this infatuation with security seems to be an epidemic that is geographical in nature, it seems to be worst around this smog shrouded metropolis.

Mistrust, as seen in the wearisome stares of many less fortunate strangers who I pass on a daily basis. There seems a question in their eyes. Yet blatant…

Reverse racism is not as evident, noticeable or existent as I thought. I’m referring to Black vs. White. It’s there, but not in the magnitude you might even find in the States. The animosity or anger towards the white population isn’t as obvious, at least outwardly, as it is in many parts of American media-pop-culture. It strikes me as odd that the majority of this country, who only a decade ago were subjects to a government which was a boiling stew of racism and repression, could now act so civilly and cordially towards a walking chalk stick like me. I would have to say that so far, the blacks here in S.A., have been much more hospitable and openly friendly than the whites. But maybe the fact that it has been but a mere decade is the reason. What was Alabama like in the 10 years after the civil rights movement? For that matter, what’s Alabama like today? So maybe its just an ingrained habit, something they’ve been taught and grew up with, to greet whites with a smile and a friendly hello, or maybe its because they now are genuinely happy to have a fighting chance to make their children’s lives better.

On the other hand, there is some open resentment from the whites towards the new African dominated government, the ANC. The new crew in place here seems to be working on balance, or what we term affirmative action (x100). Balance obviously means having to subtract resources or means from one side (white) and add it to the other (black), thus causing the deprived side to get a bit pissy. From my stance it makes perfect sense, and seems fair even if it causes temporary pain to a minority that up until recently was a selfish, hoarding bunch (not all of them). Wow, all this coming from an American…does my hypocrisy know no bounds?

Now that I’ve painted this dismal black picture I should add that the area outside city limits is picturesque, especially in the evening light with its varied mix of cacti, flowering bushes, fruit trees, (S.A. is the 3rd most biologically diverse country in the world) farmland and rolling hills, but not a place that needs too much focus. The coastal and northeast regions look absolutely beautiful, the Drakensburg (Afrikaans for Dragon Mountains) around Lesotho, and the vast stretches of the Kalahari look astounding as well. There is even trout fishing here in some of the beautiful mountain streams(I cant wait to rub that one in ROSS!). So, next time I return, I plan to make Joburg at most, a connecting point on my way to S.A.’s more deserving locales. Oh, and I shaved my head.



Death and more…

Ed and I, the only ones left down here at this point, had to make a morning run to Wonderboom Airport today so that he could fly the Twin Otter. Along the way we glimpsed a sight that put my cranium in overdrive. On the side of the road, just outside our compound, amongst a crowd of still industrious workers was a body, belly up, with a shirt covering the face. Some seemed to take notice, but most acted as if it were commonplace. It was, I imagine, a good precursor or lesson of whats to come. We in America treat death as an enigma, its there but we pretend it isn’t. Here its accepted, its everyday, its obvious, its life…why pretend it doesn’t exist, why get squeamish when its lying on the dirt 10 feet away?

The other thought provoking matter surfaced upon arrival at Wonderboom. Our instructor informed us that an aircraft, a Cessna Carravan, crashed in Mozambique on Saturday. No big deal, but is was revealed that it was the same aircraft that Bryce and Chris had flown not 12 hours before, and an aircraft that AirServ had been leasing. Unfortunately those aboard it were not as lucky as Bryce and Chris who were able to step off and walk away after their flight.