Durban 2: A Day (and night) in KwaMashu

If you’re ever in South Africa, stop in Durban if for no other reason than to go on one of Street Scene’s excellent tours. I was sold from the first time I visited their website – they specializes in facilitating experiences that even a Durbanite would have a hard time accessing otherwise. It turns out the owner, Jonas, is also an incredibly cool guy, but that’s just a sidenote. J

TJ and I had been wanting to visit a township, and the overnight stay in KwaMashu struck us as a terrific opportunity. I should explain that townships aren’t common tourist destinations. Many aren’t safe to visit, and it seems that people who aren’t born in townships would never visit one. That said, it’s been a priority for TJ & me to witness beyond the wealthy neighborhood where we live and work, and to experience the life that the majority of South Africans live. That said, arranging such an experience on our own would be potentially risky in the best case scenario and possibly quite dangerous and foolish in the worst. Enter Street Scene.

A new friend, who dreams of visiting the US

We were picked up at 9:45 by our tour guide, Sthembiso, who was driving a fairly kick-ass tour bus with shaded windows, remote keychain lock, and great AC. Inside were five “varsity” girls from the UK who were midway through a summer volunteer project working at a local horse farm, and Dustin, a film festival organizer from Seattle. Introductions were made, some Zulu was learned, and off we went!

Mountains of spices at the Indian market

Local Markets: Our first stop was four adjoining markets – the first was an African herb market full of skinned animals and dried plants. We were instructed that pictures of the animals were strictly a no-no, but one man generously let me take a photo anyway.

Entering the African herb market

Our guide picked up his “medicine” at one of the stands, and a joke about the potential contents as it was poured into a small whiskey flask did NOT go over well. African medicine is a serious point of pride in the Zulu community.

Time for your medicine!

The second market was full of vegetable stands staffed by a mix of black and Indian proprietors, and the third was abandoned. The markets had been respectively classified as black, colored, and white-only under Apartheid.

A very strong woman.

The fourth market was for cow heads. Yup, cow heads. Imagine an open-air market lined with stalls. In each stall is a woman, standing in front of a cow’s head (cut off at the neck), raising a machete overhead and bringing it down with a dull THWAAK to separate meat from skull bone. Meat, bone, and other mysterious elements go flying. In front of these stalls are fires, and on the fires are boiling cauldrons.

When the women are finished hacking apart the cow heads, they scoop up the meat parts and dump them into the cauldrons.  A few minutes later the meat is scooped out, dished onto a wood plate, and garnished with a small mountain of salt and a few peppers. TJ and I tried some, and before you ask, it did not taste like chicken.

Ghandi's Original Press

Historical Stops: From there we headed into the townships where we hit several significant historical spots. Mahatma Ghandhi’s former South Africa home* has been turned into a museum, and we visited the Ohlange School* (the first African founded and run educational institution in South Africa) and adjoining memorial for Rev. Dr. John Dube,  the school’s founder, founding member of the ANC, and the ANC’s first president. The school was where Nelson Mandella cast his vote in the historic ’94 elections.

Rev John Dube's Desk

It was inspiring to visit places that represent such powerful moments in South Africa’s history. Because they’re buried deep in township country, in areas where government rebuilding efforts have yet to penetrate and land is covered with aluminum and wood shacks, visitors are few. This lent a pilgrimage feel to this part of the tour, where we literally walked in the footsteps of Ghandi, Dube and Mandella. There’s no way we would ever have been able to find these places ourselves.

Drinks at the spaza with new friends

KwaMashu: Townships were technically created during Apartheid, when all individuals were assigned to race categories by white panels, and race categories were then forced to move into designated segregated neighborhoods. Although there have been significant efforts by the South African government to improve living conditions in the townships, townships are still segregated black neighborhoods where it appears most unemployment in the country is centered.

Shisanyama: lunch is served!

Perusing the spaza

Our tour guide did a great job of creating environments where we could interact with locals. We shared drinks with folks at a neighborhood spaza, a small market that sells what limited groceries are available in the townships. (Distributors won’t distribute to townships, so proprietors have to close shop and drive into town to stock up. Because they buy such small amounts, they’re charged higher prices than larger grocers, so basic items in townships are more expensive than what they cost in wealthy neighborhoods.) We ate lunch at a Shisanyama, a local barbeque spot where you buy your meat then they cook it for you.

Dustin records, a young girl observes

The highlight of the township was visiting the local healer. She lives in a kind of family compound made of two houses surrounded by a cement wall. A group of men sat inside, chatting away in Zulu. We were warmly welcomed by the women of the family, who came out and hugged all of the ladies in the group with great big embraces before directing us to sit on a long bench against the outer wall. The healer’s daughter brought us out some zulu beer to try – if you’re ever offered some, definitely have a sip, but make it small. J

Our tour guide hard at work :)

The healer came out and started giving hugs down the row, but when she came to the youngest Brit, she stopped and pulled her into her workspace. After she was done communing with the Brit’s ancestors and passing along the appropriate messages, she spent some time with the rest of us as one group. I’d have loved to stay there longer, singing “Call Me Maybe” with some of the young girls who were running around and chatting with the other women, but it was time to head off to our hostel.

We stayed the night at a hostel in KwaMashu. TK, the proprietor, is a remarkable man born and raised in KwaMashu. At some point in his life he made the decision to shift his focus and choices, and this shift involved becoming strongly involved in the local community. He created and led a local theater group that toured Europe, before shifting again toward creating the hostel.

TK is passionate about the townships not being just places for black people, and has created a space where new people can live and interact shoulder-to-shoulder with people in the township. In line with TK’s passion, we went out to a neighborhood jazz event later that night, which was great fun.

Children of KwaMashu

All in all my favorite part of the tour was early the following morning, when TK encouraged TJ & me to go out for a walk on our own in the township. It was the first time we’d been in the township without a guide and it felt freeing to walk around on our own, smiling and exchanging basic Zulu pleasantries with the people we encountered. If we have time, I’d love to go back to Durban and spend more time staying at TK’s place.

*Ghandi actually developed his principles of  Satyagraph and non-violent resistence in South Africa, not India. In 1893 he was brought to Durban as a legal advisor for an Indian firm. Upon going to the courthouse, he was denied entry because of his turban, which he refused to remove. Later, he was beaten and thrown off a train when he purchased a first-class ticket and refused to leave the white-only seating when asked.

*From the brochure: Dube’s central aim was to uplift and empower the local African community through education and skills training, coupled with strict adherence to Christian moral principles and values. The Ohlange Institute instilled a strong work ethic and provided young African men the means to participate meaningfully in the colonial economy. This approach freed them from the subservience of illiteracy, enabling them to take charge of their own destiny. Ohlange means ‘place of reeds’.

More market shots