The power of PhotoVoice

Bead work made by women in the township, Cape Town, South Africa

Beaded jewelry made by the women at the women’s center is sold to the tourists and the income generated is then used to support the other initiatives of the center, including providing hot food to others in the community and helping people with HIV/AIDS access medication.

I am in the process of transcribing the audio recordings from my interviews at the moment. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of experiencing this special form of hell, I envy you. For those of you who have told me about your own tortuous run through this mill, I now feel you.

That being said, the cool part of transcribing is that it allows you to really, really hear what people are telling you, free from the distraction of thinking forward to your next question or wondering if any of what a person is telling you is actually going to be helpful in the end. Helpful for me of course, because as researcher it is my universe that is central :-/. It is amazing to me how much I have missed of what people are actually saying to me because my head has been wrapped up in other gunk.

Thank goodness for transcribing.

As I listen to my conversations, I wonder if I have actually spoken about my research methodology on here. I learned something cool about my chosen methodology the other day, in conversation with 6 women involved with a women’s skills development program in the Township. My methodology is PhotoVoice: I ask participants to take photos related to tourism and then to tell me about why they took that particular photograph. Here is one that was shared with me the other day:

Tourism photography in the township, Cape Town, South Africa

Taking photos of ‘tourism’ in the township

I looked at this and said “Is she taking a selfie?” and everyone laughed. The woman explained that she took this photo because to her it represented all of the opportunities to learn new skills and have new experiences that tourists bring. If I hadn’t come on tour and met them, they would not now be having this chance to participate in my research and get to develop their photography skills. Pretty cool.

This is the neat thing about this methodology. I looked at this picture and thought, meh. Then I got the story and it took on a whole new meaning, a whole new life. Likewise, the photos open up avenues for conversation and understanding that I would never have known or thought to pursue without their being introduced via the photos.

This is a car wash:

Car wash, township, Cape Town, South Africa

Car wash in the Township

The lady who took this photo explained that a tourist came to visit the Township and met with the young guys who were trying to get their car wash business off the ground. He went with them and bought a secondhand vacuum, the zinc siding, and a shipping container to store everything in. Now they have a successful and sustainable source of income. Long-term impact of tourism.

One of the people I spoke with gave me the old ‘hand-up rather than hand-out’ analogy. Tourists are in a position to give people a little, or a big, nudge that can help them get their initiatives off the ground.

Bead work, township, Cape Town, South Africa

A Mama doing bead work at the women’s center

The lady who took this photo explained that she posed this woman doing bead work out front of the women’s center because she wanted to represent how she had once been, sitting out front of her house beading with no job and no prospects. Then an American tourist came and created the women’s center (which, incidentally, is home to the groovy community garden I wrote about earlier) and now she has a job and a place to go and be with friends and give back to the community every day. Big impact.

Cooking sheep innards, township, Cape Town, South Africa

A lady cooking sheep innards at her home in the Township

The woman who took this photo explained that this lady, her neighbour, doesn’t have a job and is trying to support herself and her family by cooking and selling sheep innards. She wants the tourists to come to her home and buy her food, to have a unique experience to try some local food and help her make some money. As much as I’m *enjoying* my adventures in meatland, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that one, but maybe some others will dig it.

For the women at this center there is no downside to tourism (I asked). The tourists give them an opportunity to learn new skills and have new experiences. And there is always the possibility that one tourist will offer to pay for a child’s school fees or help buy the tools to help get one’s business off the ground. Tourism will always involve imbalances of power, I don’t think there’s any way around that. Maybe, for these women in this community, tourism is filling a gap that their government has not been able to fill in terms of helping to provide pathways out of poverty. Maybe.

Children's library in the township, cape Town, South Africa

Donated children’s books in the women’s center. It was explained to me that this lady likes to keep the books neat and tidy so that the tourists will see that they respect and value their donations.

 

I have had other thoughts about tourism in the townships! If you’re interested in reading more about me trying to understand this particular brand of tourism, check out Touring the Township (and playing Andrea)Reflections on Township Tourism II, and Reflections on Township Tourism III. I’d love to know what you think!!

Youth Day and Reconciliation Lunch

Today is Youth Day in South Africa and a public holiday. This day was set aside to commemorate a dark event in this nation’s history: The Soweto Uprising that began on June 16, 1976. Young students and their allies took to the streets of Soweto (the largest Township in South Africa, located in Johannesburg) on this day 40 years ago to protest the government changing the official teaching language of some parts of public education to Afrikaans. This was perceived by many people to put black students at a disadvantage, as their focus would shift from understanding the content to deciphering the language of instruction.

Police responded to this protest with shocking brutality. The official number of people killed is 176, despite police reports at the time that only 23 had died, and others claiming that as many as 700 were killed. This is the photo most closely associated with the Uprising:

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Hector Pieterson, a 13 year-old boy killed by police in Soweto on June 16, 1976 (photo credit Sam Nzima)

Other communities joined in the protests, and by the end of 1976 more than 600 people had died. Although it was another 14 years before Nelson Mandela was released from prison, these protests forever changed people’s acceptance of apartheid rule in South Africa.

I think I have mentioned before that there is a white family living in the Township. They moved here in 1998, inspired by the spirit of reconciliation and a desire to do what was within their power to help heal the wounds of the past. This is so extraordinary that even today, 18 years later, their friends in Town introduce them as “the people that live in the Township.”

Every Wednesday the Lady of the House hosts a Reconciliation Lunch. She serves a full lunch (honestly, I can’t have breakfast on Wednesdays anymore) and the doors to her home are open to anyone in the community who would like to attend. Anyone. I have been going regularly and I don’t know that I have ever seen fewer than 30 people in attendance. Imagine. Opening your home to 30 friends and total strangers every single week and feeding them until they’re stuffed.

Steam bread, township lunch, South Africa

Steam bread and stew. Delicious traditional South African food.

The idea of the Lunch is to sit and eat with people that you would normally not have an opportunity to sit and eat with and learn about one another’s lives. The Lady of the House has a topic to discuss every week and everyone at the table must share their perspectives on the topic. Sometimes the topic is light and fluffy, for instance ‘talk about your best friend growing up and what you did together’, sometimes it can be quite intense and heartbreaking, such as when she asked us to share about our experiences with crime.

Sometimes I think the topic is going to be fluffy, as in ‘talk about your mother’ following Mother’s Day, and I end up crying at the table.

I always learn something. This week we talked about our hometowns. Several people spoke about growing up in the Township and how much it has changed in terms of safety since they were kids. A student from the University spoke about growing up in Joburg and living behind electric fences and having their family dogs poisoned by people trying to break in. One lady spoke about how lovely her hometown was because she was able to ride her bike to and from school without worry. That one really struck me. It never occurred to me that it would be a privilege to be able to ride your bike as a child without having to worry about what might happen.

I don’t feel that I contributed much to the conversation this week. Barrie was…nice?

I would love to ask the Lady of the House if she would make one Lunch topic about tourism, but I won’t because I don’t want to take away from the objective of the Lunch, even though I know it would be an amazing discussion. As it is I feel very lucky to have met such incredible people and to have had the opportunity to learn about the community in such a special way. On this Youth Day it is nice to reflect that the simple pleasure of sitting down and sharing a meal with one’s neighbours is no longer impossible, just special.

Playing dominoes in the Township, Cape Town, South Africa

Local dudes and students from the University playing dominoes together

Putting things in perspective

It is ironic that as my time in South Africa grows short I am feeling more and more at home in my adoptive community. Is that irony or is that simply the way that life works most of the time?

I was feeling like a real cranky-pants yesterday and today. So much so that it caused me to dig into the envelope that I never thought would be opened…IMG_2797It should say enough that I never thought I would need this one, and that I would find myself opening it on the plane out of curiosity, but here we are.

Yesterday could charitably be characterized as “frustrating.” I was dragged all over town and literally pulled in multiple directions by my friends. I was hit up over and over again for money from the aforementioned friends. I took another friend to the doctor’s and dumped a pile of cash to deal with his massively infected stab wounds because no one else in his life, apparently, would take him to get the medical care he desperately needed. I also made the mistake of giving someone the benefit of the doubt and caused a whole pile of grief because of it.

I am so tired of being treated like an ATM/taxi all the time.

Ironically, I feel like I have a newfound appreciation for the parents of teenagers.

And you know what all my carping and pouting and frustrated silences of the past couple of days have taught me? That I am a cranky bitch and feeling oh-so sorry for myself because I am in a position of privilege compared to my friends here.

A little bit of perspective goes a long way.

And, in case you were curious, talking to the lovely Miss A and these two beauties from Kimberly’s magic envelope helped me pull my head out from where it didn’t belong.IMG_4461

Playing with a different set of rules

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Township view

Ever feeling like you’re trying to play a game with the wrong set of rules?

When you go abroad through various programs, often you are forced privileged to participate in pre-departure cross-cultural awareness training. One of the games that really stood out for me was one where you would get all the students to sit together to play a game of cards. Each student is given a different set of written instructions for how the game is played, and they are not allowed to speak to one another as they play.

Can you see where I’m going with this?

It was interesting for me to see some of the students lose it when others failed to play according to their rules. This is a training session people, obviously there’s a larger objective at play. But I digress…

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Sunday chill at one of the original Township houses

My Dutch friend and I have been talking about the rules. Specifically, that we don’t know what they are. And everyone knows this about living and working and studying internationally. Everyone knows that culture shapes the way we perceive and interpret the world and our expectations and norms and blah blah blah.

It is still so, so frustrating.

There is so much that I don’t understand. And I know that I keep coming back to race like a broken record, but believe me when I say that it colours every aspect of life here. For me it is an awareness not of being one or the other, but of the ways in which it frames relationships.DSC00035

I have now had 4 or 5 people tell me, unasked, that tourism is good for the Townships because it improves racial relations. That it means so, so much to be seen by white people, to have an opportunity to interact with one another, especially for kids. There are two sides to this, according to my friends: one, that being acknowledged by white people means to a resident of the Townships that you exist, that you are also a person, and two, it provides an opportunity for black people in the Townships to see that white people are not monsters or deities, but that we are all just people who are equal.

I believe that both of these things are ‘true.’ I also believe that both of these things are at cross-purposes. How can the touristic encounter work towards a establishing a common humanity, while at the same time affirming another’s humanity simply by deigning to acknowledge them??

But this is by now a somewhat familiar frustration coming from me, no? I am still confused, but trying to wrap my head around it with the help of my Dutch buddy has been wonderful. It makes you feel less insane to be confused and frustrated with a friend.

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Essentials of the Sunday chill: box o’ wine, fuzzy slippers, and menthol cigarettes (they’re not mine Mom)

Other cultural confusions? My Afrikaans friend told me that many of her friends would be shocked, shocked to hear that I am living in a Township, going to shebeens, and joining in for Sunday chill. Not that they would find it weird. I think we can all agree that I’m comfortable doing weird things. But that they would be incapable of understanding why I would ever choose to do such a thing.

Also, I am struggling with how best to deal with two undoubtedly common frustrations: people hitting me up for cash, and people ‘falling in love’ with me. As to the former, I have resolved to ‘lend’ friends a small sum and let it be known that that is the limit (until I’m repaid at least, which has yet to happen). As to the latter, I (think that I) say very clearly that I am only interested in being friends and have no intention of engaging in any other type of relationship while I am here. People are still surprisingly persistent.

This is where we come back to the rules of the card game (you thought I forgot about that one, didn’t you?). I feel as though I am communicating as clearly as I am able (I also learned years ago that being coy gets you absolutely nowhere). And yet I find that some people persist, and I really can’t understand why. Also, being a Canadian, and being on the reserved and shy side even for a Canadian, I am amazed at people professing their adoration or asking for a sizable sum of money of a virtual stranger. I just can’t see one of my Canadian friends telling a girl he or she met an hour before that they are in love with her.

I’m not complaining – I know that I will be sad on the day that I realize I have become too old for persistent marriage proposals. And I am certainly not complaining that I am in an understood position of financial privilege, and I would be happy to share beyond what I do if I didn’t think it would create even more of a divide in my friendships. I’m just confused. It’s one of those cultural divides that I don’t know that I’ll ever quite understand.

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Beautiful view of the Township and the landscape

 

 

Wanderings

IMG_2740Feb 23, 2016

In my wanderings so far today I have seen a Burger King, a KFC, and the inevitable McDonald’s. Burger King is now serving breakfast.

The town itself is very beautiful, from what I have been able to see thus far. The streets and gardens are overflowing with large trees and flowering plants. The sky is the clearest blue and there is a range of craggy brown mountains off in the distance. The buildings are all white-washed in what I am assuming is an old Dutch-colonial style. There is little to no garbage in the street.IMG_2741

I am acutely conscious of my presence and appearance and mannerisms. To appear too standoffish, to not make eye contact or smile at someone as I pass makes me feel rude, snotty, condescending. At the same time, if I do smile am I invading a person’s privacy, perhaps their right to hate me? Is it being too forward, implying an invitation where there is none? Does having all these worries and awareness make me a racist?

In wandering about town, at first glace it appears that little must have changed since apartheid, at least as regards the physical nature of the city center. The street signs are all in Africaans, occasionally also in English. The wide boulevards  are lined with expensive-looking shops – Thule, and lingerie store (I find it amusing that I had to look up the spelling of that word), a bicycle shop, consultancy firms, and lots of upscale cafes, wine shops, and bistros. It doesn’t feel unlike the touristy drags I have been down in and around Sarasota, Florida.

IMG_2742This is the only sign I have seen thus far written in a language other than Africaans or English :-/

I am acutely aware of not wanting to be perceived as a Africaaner. I don’t want to be like them, privileged on the backs of others. But who the hell am I to judge anyone? Canadians are no better. We just pretend that we are not racist, perhaps because we have been allowed to render invisible the people we have supplanted. Perhaps I am worse, because it is my relative privilege that has allowed me to be here, sitting in this beautiful tropical garden, writing about my big feelings about white privilege; it is this imbalance of power that has allowed me to travel to this place in safety and comfort, and to not feel too badly about the 5 caches of valuables that I have scattered throughout my apartment.

My first stop this morning was the Tourist Information Office. I found a couple of pamphlets about Township tours, but very little information. I asked the woman working there about medium-length accommodation rentals, but she said I would be better off checking the ads in the weekly paper that comes out on Thursday. I wanted to ask about guesthouse stays in the Township but I didn’t have the nerve. Instead, I asked what she knew about local ‘reality’ tours. She didn’t seem too friendly about my question, saying there wasn’t anything that they supported there. She did give me a name of a contact person to get in touch with with, though. She said that there are two Townships here, neither of which I caught the name of. One of these is “more colourful. The other is more African. Where I live.” She was not friendly as she said this. There is no question in my mind that this first lady I spoke with, who works in tourism, is not a fan of tours in her neighbourhood.