Xhanti is one of my matric grade students that I taught for about two weeks in the beginning of the semester. I saw him at Thandokhulu on a Saturday when I went to meet Mkhululi, another one of my students, there for a hike.
“Hey what are you doing here on a Saturday?”
We did the handshake that they do in the townships when you snap each other’s thumbs together.
“I’m going on a hike with Mkhululi; we’re going up Table Mountain.”
“Ah why would you go on a hike, you should see the townships man. Come to Langa and I’ll show you around.”
“Sounds good to me”
We exchanged phone numbers and made it a date. I was somewhat disappointed with my internship from the start because I was jealous of my friends who get to see the harsh realities of the townships pretty often. I teach learners from the townships but I work in Mowbray, one of the wealthier suburbs in Cape Town. I was afraid that I would walk away from Cape Town without walking around a township.
A couple weeks later we met at Thandokhulu. Taylor came along with me and we arrived on time, which is actually early when you factor in Cape Town time. Xhanti came half an hour late, or on time depending on whose culture you come from. We went to the Taxi Rank in Mowbray and took a mini cab to Langa. I originally said that we could take the mini cab ourselves but Xhanti advised against it.
When we arrived in Langa Xhanti showed us around like any tour guide would. He knew the history of his township better than I know the history of anything else. (That says something because I’m a history major) Every famous person who lived there, every street name’s meaning, when certain areas were established or demolished. It seemed like this was his job.
Langa
What struck me even more was the sense of community in the township. Xhanti knew half of the people that we passed by, and the people he didn’t know were still greeted kindly. When he brought us to see one of his friends houses unannounced he walked through the gate and straight into their house. I expected his friend’s mother to be shocked or at least unhappy with two strangers in her house but she greeted us with a warm welcome in her living room.
Sheep heads prepared for boiling (Smileys)
After seeing everything that Xhanti deemed important he brought us to my favorite part of our visit; lunch. We passed the smileys (sheep heads that are apparently pretty popular) and went to the store that sold hot chips and fat cakes (fries and fried dough balls). We ate our wonderful lunch at Xhanti’s house where we sat in his living room and watched MTV shows that had been cancelled for years back in the states.
We made our way back to Rondebosch, the predominantly white suburb that we live in. We walked back from the Red Cross Hospital where the mini bus dropped us off. I said howzit (the South African version of “how’s it going) to someone we walked by and got no welcome back. I already missed Langa.
No comments:
Post a Comment