Meat and Prison

Although I typically try to distance myself from meat, this Saturday I joined a group outing to Mzoli's. Mzoli's, located in the township of Gugulethu, is a rather "magical" place. Piles of meat are refrigerated in a brightly painted cinderblock structure. All of the meat is common meat, such as steak, chicken, or sausage. I have never seen so much meat in one location. One orders choice raw pieces, which are then placed in gigantic enamel bowls to be brought out to the braai (if uninformed braai means bbq in SA) located behind the storefront. Workers cook the meat over blazing fires, carefully adding the special sauces that evidently make the meat divine. I was fascinated by the whole process from ordering to the final pot of meat . It took a total of about 45 minutes, which was perfect for those who went off to purchase choice beverages. Supposedly, the house wine is quite delectable.
In addition to being an absolutely gorgeous day, Saturday happened to be the day that Manchester United played the Kaizer Chiefs. A large television screen was placed directly outside of the restaurant so all customers could comfortably eat copious amounts of meat and white bread, drink beers and wines of choice, and watch a fantastic match. We stayed until the Kaizer Chiefs made their first goal, and then departed after spending almost 4 hours enjoying the atmosphere of the place.
While visiting Mzoli's, a small group of us went on a walk in the township. It was lovely to walk with the small children who all had pleasant things to say as they asked for 5 rand or other petty amounts of change. During our walk, we encountered two homes where funeral dinner parties were being held. It was disheartening that in a 4 or 5 block radius, 2 funerals were being held on this particular day. I can't imagine how families are able to afford the costs of funerals if they are so ubiquitous. On Saturday evening, I attended another braai- which was delectable as well- especially since it offered vegetarian fare, and I was the only partial American in attendance.
Sunday happened to be absolutely glorious as well. I left Obz in the morning to do shopping before my 13:00 adventure to Robben Island. I had read in one of my touristy books that Green Market Square was closed on Sundays. Much to my surprise and delight, several vendors were set up in the square. Green Market Square is located in the city center approximately 1 block from Long Street, the most well traveled street in Cape Town. As I was there, I bargained with a number of vendors and bought many things, all of which I am quite happy to own or give away as gifts. I ran out of cash quickly, so one of the vendors was kind enough to show me to the closest atm- of course, for the purchase of a beautiful necklace. I left with a bag full for the waterfront.
When I purchased my ticket for Robben Island by phone on Friday, there was absolutely no direction on where I was supposed to go to pick up my ticket. I guess it is assumed that you know what you are doing when you schedule such a trip. Fortunately, my friends of the Yale delegation knew where I should go to procure my ticket. I used a confirmation number for the first time in my life to identify my ticket and subsequently board the ferry for Robben Island. As we boarded the ferry, a photographer snapped photos of each group. The photos were then offered on our return voyage for 20 rand. We wanted to be outside for the trip to Robben Island, but the top deck was filled rapidly with school groups and people from all over the world. Kerry, in her great wisdom, brought anti-sea-sickness medication so that none of us would fall ill to the bumpy waters surrounding Cape Town.
Our trip was unremarkable other than the large African American woman who I thought looked like a transvestite. I wasn't sure if she had been a man at one point because of the facial hair and the general shape of her face. Only after a woman in her mid 20s called her mom, did I realize that she had probably always been a woman, with perhaps masculine features. My fellow travelers slept as the boat took off. After sitting on the boat for 10 minutes, I was happy not to be outside because the winds looked cold and harsh.
Upon disembarkment, the people on the boats were herded onto large commercial buses. I don't understand why we can't walk around the island, but nonetheless, the story continues. Our guide was named Johnny and he was a master at numerous languages, which I found admirable. He drove the bus and stopped at all of the important sites around the island to give us a brief history of how Robben Island shaped the history of South Africa. The island has been a prison, leper colony, and now a museum. The staff of the museum can live on the island in nice little houses, although, whenever there is bad weather, departure from the island is inhibited, so some, like our guide, have chosen to inhabit the mainland. I saw an ostrich, and the horrible rabbit population on the island. I hope that they don't iradicate the springbok and other boki for the sake of the rabbits that have infested the island like lice.
Robben Island has most recently served as a home to political prisoners and hard core criminals. Nelson Mandela served a large portion of his term on Robben Island, where only 5 prisoners have ever escaped and all of them escaped only in the 1600s. The prison tour is conducted by ex-political prisoners. Our prisoner was 17 when he was thrown into Robben Island to serve his 5 year term. He was a student activist who opposed Bantu education. I found him to be intelligent and well-versed on all issues. He thinks critically about the world, and addressed many of the issues that I find in South Africa. I only wish that other South Africans would listen to people like him because his insights are priceless. He spoke of the importance of forgiveness and how the Afrikaaners have also faced many hardships. Our group contained many students from Brazil, who were obviously in their middle teens. These youth were obnoxious on our bus tour, answering phones, and talking when silence was necessary. The tour guide worked expertly with the students to separate them and capture their attention. One student asked what apartheid was- although shocking that someone visiting South Africa would not know what apartheid was, I was happy to hear the question. It is only through education like this that apartheid and other corrupt systems similar to apartheid will be prevented. Our guide spoke of the inhuman manner in which he was treated and how information was extracted from him. It is always incredibly difficult for me to fathom how one human could treat another human with such indignity and hatred. I guess it is conditioned, but it doesn't make any of it easier. The opportunity to interact with people who have experienced the claws of hatred is unique and something I will cherish forever. We saw the cell of Nelson Mandela, which as our tour guide indicated, was a click-click camera moment. Even though touristy, his room was shocking. He was given a tin can for a bathroom and a mat to sleep on. He is 6 ft tall, but his room wasn't long enough for him to spread out. Additionally, he was forced to work in the limestone mine, where many people lost their eyesight, or became more susceptible to bacteria such as pneumonia, tuberculosis, and bronchitis. Nelson had tb, but with treatment overcame the illness. Humanity is cruel, but I think there may be ways to bring about change so love is shown. We are all of the same fabric, we all share the same goals and hopes at the core, we only want to live in a manner that is happy and productive, yet we find minute differences to separate ourselves, and make ourselves distinct from other people. Similarities and differences should be embraced so that a "rainbow nation" like South Africa can exist in a state of peace and happiness, not fear and hatred.