The Greatest Gift

While I was MIA for my last 2 weeks in Southern Africa, I was feeling & experiencing so many different emotions that it would be difficult to focus on a specific theme. I spent a week back in Durban spending my days at an International Film Fest. A phenomenal film that is yet to hit the states which also demolishes the Buena Vista Social club theme, "Kinshasa Symphony", a German made documentary is the most visually stunning documentary I've seen in some time. An absolute must see! I was considering vanning back to Mocambique and lazing on a beach for my final week, however I was talked into visiting Cape Town by all my Durbanite friends who clained, "You can't come to South Africa & not see Cape town." To this idea I succumbed while taxing on the runway I texted my July Durban Horse race (South African version of Kentucky Durby) predictions to friends in hopes of bringing them good fortune. I saw in the paper the next day a picture of President Jacob Zuma holding 160,000 Rand in cold cash, with the Indian owner of the horse smiling at the money, hmmm I wonder if the race was fixed? My prediction Happy Valley 1/13, White horse/ black jockey ran middle of the pack.

My friend Tsidi a University professor in Durban gave me a contact for my arrival in Cape Town. Within an hour of arrival Thebeng swooped through to pick me up from my hostal. Thebeng reminded me of a dude from the East Bay, Ca, mixed race, scuffy beard, beenie cap, beat down old mazda bucket, & foremost for his use of vernacular slang, sometimes spliced w/ neo American words, "Bra" en substitution for Bro.

Thebang took me for a luncheon to meet up with his posse at an Indian diner in the Rondebosch University neighborhood of Cape Town. For the following 3 hours we had an old fashioned round about from everything from Politics to Corporate global dominance. The youngest of the 5 black men was Lukhanyo, 28, he had the air of a 60's black panther academic. Using phrases, "That Boy", "You see I scheme...",Naturally these dudes were carrying a severe chip on their shoulder, many of them having grown up in townships in a country where South Africa ranks #1 in the world in inequality. Lukhanyo: "I can tell you that my father was a political activist who was causing the gov't problems, so they killed him." Lukhanyo coincidentally had a film in the Durban Int'l film fest titled, "Unfinished Business" which is a piece dealing with the unsolved murder of his father & the "Cradock 4" in 1986'. He said he was not invited personally to attend the festival, I wasn't sure to presume whether that was an exaggeration or an economic issue, the truth or something other.

"Everyone pays for the American way of life. You know there is a joke I heard once, When god was creating Earth, thus dispersing mineral & natural wealth throughout he decided, I'll put most of the oil in the Middle East, I'll put gold in South Africa. & then he got lazy & decided, "I'll just put everything else in the Congo!".. We were all bursting into laughter. "But you see, life here is impossible wo/ money. I for one am unemployed. Literally I can do almost nothing wo/ money. This meal will set me back." All of these young men were in Cape Town for work, or in search of work whereas they were extremely adamant in clarifying that they did not fit into the local Capetonian identity cultural scheme.

Capetown on the whole is a beautiful city, for the elites that is. It's reminiscent of the CA coast, only more beautiful. The reality that most all people "coloreds" speak Afrikaans in Cape Town 85-90% the pidgin version of Dutch that arrived in the 1600's & was the officially imposed Apartheid language gives it an identity distinct from the other cities/ regions I visited in South Africa. A side note of mention, many of the Black South African Soccer players during the world cup gave post game interviews in Afrikaans. When I asked how come there wasn't a stronger emphasis for the whites or specifically Afrikaners to learn Zulu, Xhosa, or something of the Bantu like, the only response I got was, "Thats a very good question." However what I most disliked about Cape Town was definitely the most extremely aggressive begging I had experienced in a long time, coincidentally on Long St.

Throughout my entire 2 final weeks in South Africa it seemed so apparent to me that in Mocambique, within a rural poverty, people seemed to live a much happier & relaxed life. South Africa is America's & the greater International corporate extension in the continent. With this comes all the ills of "Development", supermarkets, where one may have Zimbabweans who were formerly doctors 10 years ago, know hustling to collect coins from parked cars. Most Educated South AFricans I met(at least 6-7, specifically in Durban) had never been to Mocambique which is a close 3.5 hour drive & only 180 rand from the unofficial lower middle class transport station in Durban. Yet all these South Africans had been to the U.K & if they hadn't already, they all had a greater desire to go to London before ever wasting their time going to a timeless country in Mocambique.

I opted to take the Shosholoza Meyl train from Cape Town 2 Jo-burg, a 27 hour journey as a more economic & scenic approach to seeing the country side while having to arrive in Jo-burg to fly out. The wine country just north of Cape Town gliding through the mountains, with the occasional views of sheep, zebras, & ostriches made the first afternoon very pleasant. However approaching sun-down my initial sleeper became too much to bear after the first 10 hours as their was a drunk who was just obnoxiously out of control in his ranting. one of the few Afrikaner words I picked up due to persistent harassment was "Puus" a word I heard constantly when walking Long ST. in Cape Town for a bite to eat, a word intended to provoke reaction, and unsettle. I would look at this man's face as he was slobbering drool, out of the control in his emotions, a face completely scarred from various beatings & had to imagine a life of abject poverty & violence, relegated to go pick for Diamond in Kimberely.

I didn't find this out until I changed sleepers & was introduced to my 2 new sleeper mates. "How's it?" A colored man, Edward Newing told me his life story, how he was retired from working 25 years at a Chicken Farm, (of the mutant chicken variety we Americans consume from Safeway Supermarkets.) The man had very high spirits & strong soul, however he could be taken very easily to be in poor physical health. Edward told me he was to disembark in Kimberely at 7am to go Diamond hunting at the mines. I aked Edward what his real name was, he gave me birth name "Xol Ani". We spoke for hours on end about the diamond market. He educated me that the black market rate for per karat is 1 thousand 500 rand =220 dolares rougly. & that the biggest he had ever encountered was "3 karats"

Of all the conversations I had my entire 2 month journey, the look in Xol's eyes retailing his life choosing (perhaps addicted) to pick diamonds because a national pension after a lifetime of work is not enough to live comfortably on a monthly basis, made me realize I need to buy one of the Flip Cameras for future filming.

"You must be born for it!"
"Some people are lucky, some people are unlucky. I can be digging for 2 weeks, it's better to work in groups." "If you work alone u can starve! "I've been digging for diamonds for 6 years. If I can just get to 1.5 million rand, I know I can live until I die. My son is 36, unemployed w/ a family for over 2 years now in the Northern Cape." Xol told me that when the buyers come down on the train from Jo-burg, they sell them the diamonds in plain street view & not behind closed doors, whereas dealing in privacy will cost you your life immediately.
5 hours later I awoke as the train arrived in Kimberley. Xol told me a joke how he'd be waiting for me to send him a check in the mail, we left the train & we wished each other well.

The train began to pick up speed bypassing a man-made lake just outside of Kimberely that was frosted w/ thousands of pink flamencos which appeared as popcorn bobbing on the water. Much of the pink popcorn took to the sky. That was beautiful.

I later realized I was still carrying my mini Jabulani soccer ball that I had brought to Africa in my bag. Approaching Jo-burg about 2 hours away, the rural townships began to appear. Whereas there may be only a train or 2 per day that pass these communities by. I wanted to give the coolest gift imaginable to a young kid. I waited until I saw a group of young boys positioned aside the train-track, When I sensed an eager group jumping about restlessly, I placed my arm outside the train window & aimed the ball directly towards them from the moving train. They immediately sprinted down the ball as they had unexpectedly missed the catch & were tenaciously running into a small dirt ditch to retrieve the Jabulani. Within 10 seconds they were out of view & the lasting view I have of them brought me immediate joy. The Red shirt was the most determined as he had beat the others, & was first to the jabulani.