The last few days have been busy, with a mixture of Xhosa, museums, groups discussions, and lectures. I feel as though I am already learning a lot. The only free time I have had is after 8:30 or so, when we finish dinner. The religious hostel in which we are staying is in a more secluded area in the outskirts of Johannesburg. Nothing to do is in walking distance, so at night we have resorted to UNO, ukre (?), and notoriously making the priests angry with our noise. These walls are paper.
Johannesburg is a city that used to be the economic hub of South Africa. After gold was discovered in 1867, the mining industry brought many people into the area. Whites the British and Dutch came to claim the riches, and the non-whites were forced into labor. However, J-burg today is not what it used to be. Buildings previously well kept are now shrunken and brown. The city seems to have a gray blanket covering the beauty of not long ago. Before coming here, I did not understand why Johannesburg was so significant. It turns out that some very important events within the years of Apartheid occurred in this city, and one of these was in the township of Soweto.
During Apartheid, Soweto (South West Township), was a black only residential area. It was poor, and lacking in the realm of education. When the nationalist group who enforced Apartheid (the Africaaners, descendants of Dutch colonizers), created a law that forced oppressed Africans to teach 50% of their educational courses in Africaan (Dutch language), there was a revolt in Soweto. The 1976 resistance was led by youths from the area, and is one of the most well known events of Apartheid. The influence of their uprising was so great that it spread throughout South Africa and increased blacks’ collective consciousness. Many students were killed and injured. The riots greatly influenced the course of Apartheid’s later years, and I feel fortunate to have visited Soweto to see where the protest took place. We also had the opportunity to visit the Hector Peterson museum, which was named after the first child who was gunned down by the white police during the revolt. A 10 x 10 black and white photo hangs in the museum, capturing a man carrying the limp body of Peter in his arms. Next to them is a woman screaming, and smoke/bodies/running people can be seen in the background. The image was really powerful.

Yesterday’s activities were quite intense, so we were all inclined to go swimming after returning from a long day. It was five thirty, and the sun was just starting to go down. Its dimming light through the wooden fence placed warm yellow lines on the pool deck that we strategically laid on. The water was freezing, but I jumped in anyway. I swear, living in Michigan and swimming in Michigan lakes has made my skin thicker. I admit, though, that I mostly jumped in to wake myself up because my jet lag has seemed to last for four days. I think I have been dubbed as “the sleeper” on the bus. There is just something about long rides that knocks me out every time.

Today we were able to attend a local university to see a lecture given by a professor there. It was really interesting, but lasted for four hours. By the end, all of my limbs were asleep and my pencil started to sway in front of my eyes. Needless to say, we were all happy to leave and come back to the hostel.

Tomorrow we are going to the Apartheid museum. Should be another great learning experience, although intense like the other places we have visited.

one last thing. Yesterday I saw Danny Glover. Three Times.