Ubuntu in South Africa

        We all have those cities or places that we feel drawn to- pulled to by some higher power. South Africa is one such place for me. Anticipation for South Africa was intense- the crew told us stories of past voyages and places to go, movies and seminars on the culture, beauty, and history sparked our imaginations. I began to worry that hype of South Africa would somehow out do South Africa, a phenomenon that occurred for me in Ghana. I began to fear that this place I had dreamed of visiting would somehow be… less. 
        In anticipation, we all rose at 5 am to watch the sun rise over Africa as we approached Cape Town. As the sky was stained orange with the early morning sun, I felt like I was coming home to a place I had never been before. I felt more spiritual watching the skies slow progression from star-studded blackness to cloudless blue than I have in any mosque or cathedral. There are no words to describe the beauty and feeling of that morning, as I watched Table Mountain rise in the distance and Cape Town come into view. Just know that it was probably the most magnificent morning of my life. The hope that I would come to associate with South Africa lived in that sunrise.
       
        South Africa is a land of juxtapositions. It’s a land of beautiful waterfronts, and tin siding slums. It is a place of decaying buildings and electric fences.  It is a place where there is, simultaneously, tremendous wealth and heartbreaking poverty. It is a place where the poorest of neighborhoods have tremendous hopes.
        On my fourth day in South Africa I met a cab driver named Phira. Phira is a native Cape Towner, having been born in Langa, a large township. As he drove us from the V&A Waterfront to Langa on a township tour, Phira explains to us that Langa was the first township for settlement when District 6 was disbanded and forcibly removed. Langa, he says, means the sun, so that the sun will shine and bring prosperity to the people who live there. Phira is hopeful and optimistic as we turn into Langa. Immediately it is clear that Langa, too, is a land of contradictions. We drive in and immediately pass the small one or two room brick structures that are the government built homes for those living in the townships. The lawns are clean and houses seem well kept. We drive on, maybe twenty feet, and the brick structures give way to shacks of all different colors and sizes, leaning on each other for support, covered in many layers of dirt and grime brought on by years of human habitation. This is where the majority of the people of Langa live.
        The unemployment rate in South Africa is estimated to be between forty and fifty percent, a fact that is painfully obvious as we get out of the cab and walk to a bar that brews a traditional South African beer made from wheat. It is only two or three in the afternoon, yet adults of all working ages are sitting in the shady spots near the bar. No one has a drink. We walk into the bar and buy the beer for the people we meet. It’s a traditional beer that is brewed in what appears to be an oil drum and is served in metal pails. We pay our twenty rand for the group and pass the pail, waiting for the stories to begin. It takes only a few minutes, our driver, Phira and a friend of his named Luke, were freedom fighters in the fight to end the apartheid government in South Africa. They show us scars from their youth, scars from the fighting, but quickly the conversation turns to Ubuntu. South Africa is clearly a country weary and tired of violence, even in memory.
        I had heard the theory of Ubuntu in a religious studies class a few years ago, but I hadn’t been prepared for its presence amongst the poorest of South Africa. One of the girls I traveled with asks Phira and Luke how they could forgive those who had tormented them for so long. Their reply is simple- we must. They say that the white Afrikaans were victims of the same system they were subject to and that they must forgive. After all, Luke says, Does God not forgive those who betray and lie and steal? How can they withhold what God gives freely? I’m not sure I buy into the God bit, but even without it, the statement is deeply profound, moving.
        Hope is the driving force in the Langa. People are hopeful that they will get a house, hopeful that they will have work soon, hopeful that their children will get an education, hopeful that their circumstances will get better. That kind of hope is truly inspirational from people who have next to nothing, especially for a westerner who feels so little hope in her country for the future. After all, if these people can have hope when they have nothing, how can I withhold hope when I have had everything?

        I think that is what I learned most in South Africa. I learned to have hope. When we went whale watching off the coast of the tiny little gorgeous coastal town of Hermanus, we sat in a silent boat and watched three Right Whales dance not 20 feet away. The awe that those beautiful creatures inspired was one of hope. The whales continue to be nearly extinct, but the beauty of their presence off of South Africa fills one with hope.
        Hope lived in the cell of Nelson Mandela on Robben Island. Hope danced on the face of every child who played jump rope with me and in every person I met smile. Hope is so palpable in South Africa I though it might become tangible at any moment.
        It’s pretty contagious, too, the hope of South Africa. On a couple of nights some friends and I decided to go out for dinner and drinks. Any of those who know me are probably choking on the very air they breath. I don’t go out in Boone, North Carolina, let alone strange, exotic destinations around the world. But I was soaked with the hope of South Africa and braved an Irish Pub call The Dubliner, and a gay bar called Crew. Both were amazingly fun. I sometimes worry that I don’t enjoy being 22. I worry that I focus too much on the future or the past, without remembering to have fun. But, as I danced with some friends as the technicolor lights flashed at crew, I knew I was exactly where I am meant to be- even when I’m being cautious. I may not have sweet dance moves, but I am learning to enjoy myself a bit more, and for that I will always love South Africa in a special way.
        I was incredibly sad to leave South Africa. Both parts of South Africa hold a special place in my heart. It felt like home the same way the MV Explorer felt like home. I know I can’t wait to go back.