WARNING: The below blog contains semi-serious material. If you are unprepared for this sort of writing style, please take all necessary precautions (e.g. slow deep breaths, cold glass of water, morphine injections)
For almost eleven months, I have attempted to ignore, evade, and push from my mind any belief that South Africa is one of the more racist nations in this world. Created a picture-perfect image of the amazing country in which I have lived this past year, as it not only has provided me with a lifetime of incredible memories, but also is the land from where generations upon generations of my family originates. Events and occurrences that could have been interpreted as being racist were just pushed aside from my mind, attributed to being just a part of life in Africa. Something at which to just shake your head and laugh in disbelief. Yet, after my experience this past weekend, the unfortunate truth that “not much has changed” since Apartheid ended its horrible reign two decades ago is quite blatantly true.
After another typical night out on the town, I decided to continue the festivities and invite some friends back to my flat for some post-bar drinks. As my flatmate was out-of-town, and it isn’t so often I can take advantage of a true South African after-party, I decided it would be the perfect way to end what had been a great night thus far. When friends invited friends of friends, I did not have any concerns whatsoever, as “the more the merrier.” Unfortunately, the fact that several of my friends friends happened to be colored (see note below) was the only reason why a once-festive night turned into complete chaos.
NOTE: Colored is NOT a racist term here as it is in the States. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coloured -- Basically colored people are the descendants of the Dutch settlers to Cape Town who had “relations” with the local woman upon arrival. They represent a unique culture and ethnic group, yet are treated with much disrespect by many in South Africa, both white AND black. You will see why this is relevant shortly.
After having a few drinks, watching TV, and being quite peaceful, we heard a loud pounding upon the front door. At first it was ignored, thinking that someone was probably drunk, attempting to get into the wrong flat. Yet, when the pounding became louder, and was soon followed by the words “Open up! This is the police!” we could guess something was wrong. Little did we know at the time, but the sixty-year singe white landlord of my flat had called the police due to “ten colored guys breaking in.” Apparently, her interpretation was as follows:
Ten Colored Guys = Two colored guys, two colored girls, and my two darker-skinned Canadian friends
Breaking Into The Flat = Wandering around the hallways, attempting to find flat #13
Although several of the guys had been a bit “rude” to the landlord, telling her to “go back to bed lady” as she pestered them as to why they were in her flat complex, she decided such rudeness was uncalled for, and that the police should be involved (of course by providing the police with a bit of an “elaborate” story that would all but guarantee a lesson to be learned). Let the racism begin…
Anyhow, after refusing to let in the five policemen standing before me (yes, there were five) as I held hope that the notions such as warrants or means of arrest were valid in South Africa (they aren’t), I finally gave in to the constant screams of “Open this f*cking door right now!!” (and of course the bottle of mace pointed directly into my face). With the unfortunate scent of “wacky tobaccy” exuding from the nearby balcony, what might have been an attempt to “ensure the peace,” turned into a full-blown drug raid. Within seconds of allowing the police into my flat, I was thrown aside, watching in awe as my room was literally torn to shreds. Police trampling about, searching every drawer, piece of clothing and potential “hiding spot” for what they hoped was a one-way ticket home for me back to the States. When attempting to explain to the head female officer there was nothing in my room, she threw me into a wall, yelling “you better shut the f*ck up right now if you know what’s good for you!” (I give that experience a 2 out of 10 on the ‘fun scale’).
With now five policeman scouring my room (including two who apparently had nothing else to do but laugh and play with my slingshot… yes… play), in the other room, five additional police had shown up, as the two colored guys were now in a pushing match with the police, being targeted for arrest due to the landlords initial call. Add to that the discovery of a small bag of weed on the back porch, and they now had a charge of possession thrown their way as well (even though the bag was not found on them, it was ‘assumed’ to be theirs).
Unable to comprehend what was going on before me, I stood in disbelief as my once quiet flat had now turned into next week’s episode of COPS. With every single girl in our flat balling in tears due to the fear of spending a night in a South African holding cell (at one point one of the police officers had loudly stated “ok, you’re all going to jail!”), the rest of us watched the two unfortunate colored guys being arrested for doing little more than being colored. Being taken away on charges of possession and resisting arrest, all because of a completely phony accusation of breaking and entering from an elderly white lady proving her racist ways. Looking back on it now, something should have been said, although attempting to argue anything with these policemen would have all-but-guaranteed the use of “excessive force” and one’s own trip to jail.
Almost two hours later, with my heart using up at least a years worth of beats in a single night, they were gone. Everyone was gone. Nothing broken. Nothing stolen. No evidence of what had just occurred. Quite possibly one of the most ridiculous events of my life, and the only reason I was standing in my flat, unharmed, unarrested, was due to the color of my skin. A poor white boy naively tempted by the illegal activities of two colored guys. Add to that my landlord’s declaration of “you better never invite THOSE type of people here ever again,” and any ignorance of the racism in South Africa was all but gone.
Lesson Learned (More seriousness -- additional methods of coping required):
Although the night of our drug raid exhibited some of the extreme racism which has gone on in this country for ages now, it unfortunately is not surprising such behavior exists, even in a post-apartheid world. With a new government and new laws allowing the peaceful co-existence of blacks and whites, the unfortunate truth is that people themselves do not change. You can change everything around them, but changing the thoughts and ideals of a person is one of the most difficult things in the world. This by no means is a declaration that all South Africans are racist. I know dozens of South Africans who are just unfortunate bystanders of their countries oh-so-turbulent history. Nevertheless, the racism exists, and is not going away anytime soon.
Take our own history, that of the United States. Although it has been forty years since civil rights were enacted, it only feels as if equality has just begun to settle in (at least in the Northern States). Forty years. Almost two entire generations of adults come and gone, leaving with them their notions of the past. Leaving behind a society that, although not perfect, is a far improvement upon its past reflection. A society that has come so far over the past four decades, yet still leaves great room for improvement. Thus, when you look at South Africa, a country that has only existed in an Apartheid-free world for just over 15 years, it is more than obvious that the road ahead is going to be long and difficult.
The unfortunate truth is that you can promote and preach equality as much as you want. You can provide for those opportunities never before available. You can do everything in your power to create a world that SHOULD be equal. But true equality. True peaceful co-existence. The type we are in fact experiencing just now in America, can only come about with time. Allowing those who helped enact such racist acts as Apartheid to come and go. Allowing their children to do the same. Relying on those not yet born to lead the way, those without racist thoughts engrained in their minds. Those who have not been surrounded by the standards and beliefs held by so many at this point in time in South Africa.
It was forty years ago when civil rights were enacted in the US. My parents had not even met. My existence as their child was not even present in their minds. And even MY generation, one so removed from the days of inequality, still harbor racist thoughts to this day. Thus, when you read about South Africa in the news. When you read the horrible stories of racism, xenophobia and all the other atrocities going on each and everyday, try not to judge too harshly. Sure these events are appalling and terrible, and do not belong in current-day society, yet they are events that are surprisingly similar to those experienced by the US not so long ago.
Try to realize that this is a country going through an incredible change. A change that only a few decades ago, none could have ever imagined. A change that is now embraced by the Republic of South Africa, but unfortunately not by many of those still residing within its borders. Although the dream of a “free” South Africa will someday come true, it is a dream whose reality is far away in the future. And although efforts can, and should be made to encourage this vision, to push for a new standard in the way of life of South Africa, the one true unavoidable obstacle, a barrier that must be accepted and acknowledged, is that of time.
Onto the pics (come on, I had to have at least ONE serious blog!) : )
 | When not being raided by the police, I also went to see a Manchester United game in Cape Town... Raaaandom |
 | Me and Diaz in disbelief at how we were watching the best soccer team in Europe, for the cost of two $10 tickets bought 5 mins before the game |
 | Is Man Utd losing at the half to a South African club team?! |
| T.I.A. Bench = Conference room chairs set upon a tarp mat |
 | Near miss header (wish I had my nice camera for this game... little one just didn't do the job) |
 | The rowdy Kaiser Chiefs fans celebrating during the week of Nelson Mandela's Bday |
 | Final score - What a game! |
 | And they are STILL partying |
 | The party NEVER stops (2 hours after the game) |
 | I miss snow.. |
