Mandela's Island
Trip Start
Mar 18, 2009
1
10
11
Trip End
May 14, 2009
Cape Town,
Western Cape,
South Africa
Monday, May 11, 2009
After spending over a week at Alex's, I decided to move to another friend's place so that I could spend a bit more time with him. Hence, I moved to Selcuk's apartment in Rondebosch, a suburb to the east of the Observatory. Selcuk is a Turkish friend from the boarding house of our high school.
The Table Mountain Range
He was 2 years below me. Currently, he is a mechanical engineering major at Princeton. "What the hell is he doing in Cape Town?" you may ask. Well, he is doing a semester abroad at the University of Cape Town, which is the most reputable academic institution on the entire continent.As I was having breakfast at a coffee house called Cocoa Wah Wah near Selcuk's, I heard Alex honking at me in his rental Opel Corsa. We drove to the township (a.k.a. ghetto) where he taught. Although the thousand of metal shacks that constituted the township were in a terrible condition, the facilities at Alex's school were impressive. The high walls topped with barbed wire (an African favorite) circled a large garden, a sports facility and well-maintained classrooms. This was nothing like the wood-and-mud equivalents I had seen around Nakuru. Alex added that such schools were usually built with corporate sponsorship.
Compared to Kenya, there is no tribalism in South Africa. She is more of a nation state. When you ask the common man on the street where he is from he doesn't give you his tribe, as they do in Kenya. The inhumanities of Apartheid seem to have destroyed tribal culture, thereby uniting the black majority.
Gently Curving Horizon
After dropping me off at the Waterfront, Alex drove to the town center to get rid of our rental car. I paid 180 rand at the Mandela Gateway to hop on a ferry to Robben Island. The tour was very well-organized, almost in an unAfrican fashion. The ferries departed on the second; buses and eloquent tour guides greeted us on the Island; a second very professional guide took care of us during the walking tour through Mandela's section. Then, they shipped us back, once again with shocking punctuality.
Robben Island has been used as a prison ever since the second half of the 17th Century. The first political prisoner here was a native interpreter for the Dutch.
Early explorers used the Island for grazing animals. Moreover, they would eat the penguins, which consist the 3rd largest penguin colony in the world today.
Our tour guide of South Asian decent was excellent. He included the audience in his presentation by asking where we were from and then questions related to the respective country. I was impressed when he told a story based on a historical link between South Africa and Turkey
Cape Town Under My Feet
. Wasn't aware of such a link... In the 18th Century, the Dutch brought in a Muezzin (Islamic clergyman) from the Ottoman Empire, because they were fearful that Islam would die out in South Africa. My guess is that the Dutch wanted to use the Turkish Muezzin as a religious leader through whom they could control the masses.The knowledgeable guide used to be a prisoner here himself. His crime was being a youth organizer for the Pan-African Coalition (PAC).
The second ex-political-prisoner who was showing us around the wards had been a resident in one of them. He explained how races were segregated even inside the prison complex. For instance, blacks weren't allowed to wear trousers or jackets; they weren't allowed to eat as much meat as their South Asian counterparts either. Our second guide had been charged with terrorism. He was a recruiter for the military branch of the African National Coalition (ANC, the ruling party in South Africa today). He was 24 when he was released in 1990. Went to university; organized workers for a while; then returned to the Island as a guide. He admits that being back at the political prison was initially a nightmare. However, as he warmed up to the job, he began to find it cathartic.
On the ferry back, there was an attractive girl from New York. Because I spent too much time waiting for the perfect moment to approach her, I missed my chance completely. 2 sleazy, middle-aged men took her under cross-fire and invited her to lunch. She accepted...
While the Sleazy Men enjoyed the company of the Hot New Yorker, I had too much fried chicken for lunch
Cape Point
. How much I had missed Colonel Saunders after having been deprived of him in Kenya... Moreover, I had 2 scoops of strawberry ice-cream from Haegen Dazs (is that how you spell it?).Took a cab back to Rondebosch. To my surprise, the cab driver was a lady of Malaysian decent, wearing a headscarf. She was listening to a recitation of the Qur'an and was happy to hear that I was Muslim too. She was planning to do the Haj this year, ins'Allah. When I told her that I had never been to Mekka, "One has to be prepared mentally..." she replied sagaciously.
When I arrived home, Selcuk was studying for his upcoming programming exam. In the meantime, I checked my emails; went on Facebook, and read the news. The IHF-related critical Facebook group is growing strong. Within a few days we have almost reached 100 members.
Selcuk's Lebanese-American roommate, Rashad, joined us at a light dinner at an Italian restaurant near their apartment. While I was having my Greek salad, I enjoyed sharing my Lebanon stories with Rashad. I'm very fond of my memories around the globe. I posses some unbelievable ones. Sometimes I think to myself: "Have I really lived through that or have I just caught a glimpse of it during one of the regular movie nights I have with Grandpa?"
