Now that the internet is working again, I wanted to post some pictures I took a week ago when I went on Xolani May's township tour. Xolani does these for a living, and often has groups of visitors from out of the country whom he will take along on a half or full day tour of Guguletu, Philipi, and other neighboring townships. There are several companies and individuals who do these tours (a number are listed in my guidebook) although not all of them are township residents like Xolani is. You would never guess to look at him, but Xolani lives in an informal settlement, or just a shack as he is not embarrased to call it. I am giving him huge props for these tours, and it would be great if he could advertise commercially, since much of his business currently comes through connections to JL Zwane.
I really think a township tour like this is the most worthwhile thing someone can do in South Africa. There are lots of sights to see and things to do, but I feel that meeting the people in the country is the most important thing one can do while travelling. Seeing how people in a country live and interacting with them takes one past the simple tourist sight-seeing to actually engage (at least a little bit) with people. Because that's what a place is really about: people. This is particularly true in a country like South Africa which such a history of injustice, inequality, violence, and oppressive poverty. Most people from Europe and the States who come here probably go to Cape Town or one of the other big cities and enjoy the First World amenities and activities, see some wildlife at Kruger, tour the winelands, surf if that's your thing, and go home. All of these things are extremely worthwhile, but they are also an excellent recipe for not having a substantive interaction with non-white people. Now there is not really much to see in the townships for a tourist. You go there for the people, and to see the contrast with neighborhood where your hotel probably is. The fact that the township is not a tourist destination is acatually the best reason to go there, as tourist areas never tell the whole story about a culture. So in my opinion, on a visit to South Africa a township tour is a must. 
People who live in Guguletu are proud of it. In fact the name means "our pride". Like other Cape Flats townships, Guguletu was founded in the 1950s when blacks were forcibly removed from Cape Town proper, and other "seasonal labourers" from Eastern Cape also needed housing. Initially, cookie cutter houses were built to house the men who left there families at home to work here and send money back. This was too expensive so eventually the government and the major companies employing these labourers (Coca-Cola, for instance) started
building single-sex dormatory-style "hostels", which are still in use today, often with as many as ten people living in a space the size of my dorm room. The amenities in some of the company hostels are much better than in the government ones, although they still tend to be crowded. These housing options were made to be more or less affordable on the extremely low wages the labourers earned. Other, better homes were also built, but these were equalled in number by the shanties that sprang up later on.
There was only one road in and out of Guguletu in those early years, NY1, which is still the heart of the township. All the streets around here are just numbered "Native Yards", although they
have been given proper names since 1994 (which pretty much no one uses, and they aren't labelled anyway). The way in and out of Guguletu was controlled by police, who restricted everyone moving in and out according to their government issued pass. I will write in greater detail about the pass laws later, but essentially they classified each non-white person as either a "native" or "coloured", and police could stop you indiscriminately, and at random whenever they wanted and demand your pass. These laws kept non-whites confined to certain areas, whether townships or the Bantustans (which were instituted around the same time), and millions were locked up for pass "violations" over the nearly fifty years of Apartheid. Massive resistance to the pass laws and demonstrations led to the Sharpeville Massacre in 1960 ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharpeville_Massacre ).
Locally, on 3 March, 1986 government anti-terrorist units (members of the dreaded Vlakplaas) stopped a mini-bus full of students affiliated with the ANC (African National Congress, now the
ruling party) and brutally shot seven of them dead. Television and radio stories that day proclaimed that government units had killed seven "terrorists", and as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission later revealed, weapons were planted on the dead bodies. Governments since the Roman Empire have been using that label for underground resistance fighters. We should be thoughtful about how that term is used by media and by government, and how we are intended to regard people so labelled differently. Those labeled "latrones" by the Romans became eligible for the extreme punisment of crucifixion, and it is often argued today that extreme tactics are necessary to combat terrorists. Back to the Guguletu Seven, pictures at a local mini-museum show smiling soldiers standing over bullet-riddled bodies while neighbours look on from behind the police barricades. There is a memorial there today, part of which is pictured here.
Other highlights included a visit to a Shebeen, an informal tavern in an informal settlement building, which were once illegal, but are sort of okay now. Actually, when we walked in all the men in place became suddenly very quiet. It was not until Xolani explained to them that the white man was not an undercover detective that they lightened up and I got a round of what they were drinking. In this picture I am drinking umqombothi ( http://www.dispatch.co.za/1999/07/31/features/ROMANS1.HTM ), a home-made beer-like concoction made from sorghum and mealie (corn). It looks like soapy water and was a bit thicker than beer. And grainy. It has a sweetish, perfumey taste, and the texture of very
thin Cream-of-Wheat. An acquired taste I think, although I hear Anheuser-Busch is marketing a sorghum beer in the US. I very politely drank several big gulps of what I was served, but I wouldn't exactly seek it out again in the future. Back in the day, shebeens were important meeting places for groups resisting the Apartheid regime. We ended the tour with my first trip to Mzoli's, where I ate my fair share of the pile of meat pictured at bottom.
An explanation of the pictures, from the top:
1) Xolani standing beside outhouses in the informal settlements. About a hundred people will use these, and they are only pumped out once a week. Many (but not all) of the informal settlement areas have a communal water tap set up, and as I've said they are often hooked up with pay as you go electricity. I didn't see much of that in this area.
2) Pigs feeding on rubbish. This used to be a nice wetland, but all the garbage has killed the frogs and other wildlife that lived there. No place else to put the trash or dump human waste. It stinks, and is a breeding ground for disease. The shacks closest to the marsh get flooded in heavy rains, and even those farther uphill can have problems with water seeping up from the ground (or through the roof). I have always loved it when it is stormy outside, and I am warm under the blankets drinking a cup of tea. Now, it makes me think of the people in the shantytowns, who have to deal with wet blankets and mattresses, and maybe have nothing but a parrafin heater -- if they are lucky.
3-4) One of the better new houses being built in Langa. It is being remodled from a former hostel building, and those moving in participated in a monthly payment scheme for a while which reserved a unit for them. Unemployment is high, so only those with a steady job and a decent wage could afford to do this. The one we went into had several rooms, lots of light, fresh plaster and paint, very good conditions. You can see by the yard that they are still under construction.
5) Across the street from this new building is one of the old hostels. Pictured are Xolani with the woman who lives in this room with her family, and Sara, an American college student who worked at JL Zwane for a few weeks this summer. One of the crazy things about going around with Xolani is that he will just walk into people's houses, say hi and ask if we can look around.
He doesn't know these people, but they always let us right in. One perk to taking your tour with a township resident.
6) Part of the Guguletu Seven memorial.
7) Me drinking at the Shebeen.
8) Mzoli's meat.
I really think a township tour like this is the most worthwhile thing someone can do in South Africa. There are lots of sights to see and things to do, but I feel that meeting the people in the country is the most important thing one can do while travelling. Seeing how people in a country live and interacting with them takes one past the simple tourist sight-seeing to actually engage (at least a little bit) with people. Because that's what a place is really about: people. This is particularly true in a country like South Africa which such a history of injustice, inequality, violence, and oppressive poverty. Most people from Europe and the States who come here probably go to Cape Town or one of the other big cities and enjoy the First World amenities and activities, see some wildlife at Kruger, tour the winelands, surf if that's your thing, and go home. All of these things are extremely worthwhile, but they are also an excellent recipe for not having a substantive interaction with non-white people. Now there is not really much to see in the townships for a tourist. You go there for the people, and to see the contrast with neighborhood where your hotel probably is. The fact that the township is not a tourist destination is acatually the best reason to go there, as tourist areas never tell the whole story about a culture. So in my opinion, on a visit to South Africa a township tour is a must. 
People who live in Guguletu are proud of it. In fact the name means "our pride". Like other Cape Flats townships, Guguletu was founded in the 1950s when blacks were forcibly removed from Cape Town proper, and other "seasonal labourers" from Eastern Cape also needed housing. Initially, cookie cutter houses were built to house the men who left there families at home to work here and send money back. This was too expensive so eventually the government and the major companies employing these labourers (Coca-Cola, for instance) started
building single-sex dormatory-style "hostels", which are still in use today, often with as many as ten people living in a space the size of my dorm room. The amenities in some of the company hostels are much better than in the government ones, although they still tend to be crowded. These housing options were made to be more or less affordable on the extremely low wages the labourers earned. Other, better homes were also built, but these were equalled in number by the shanties that sprang up later on.There was only one road in and out of Guguletu in those early years, NY1, which is still the heart of the township. All the streets around here are just numbered "Native Yards", although they
have been given proper names since 1994 (which pretty much no one uses, and they aren't labelled anyway). The way in and out of Guguletu was controlled by police, who restricted everyone moving in and out according to their government issued pass. I will write in greater detail about the pass laws later, but essentially they classified each non-white person as either a "native" or "coloured", and police could stop you indiscriminately, and at random whenever they wanted and demand your pass. These laws kept non-whites confined to certain areas, whether townships or the Bantustans (which were instituted around the same time), and millions were locked up for pass "violations" over the nearly fifty years of Apartheid. Massive resistance to the pass laws and demonstrations led to the Sharpeville Massacre in 1960 ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharpeville_Massacre ).Locally, on 3 March, 1986 government anti-terrorist units (members of the dreaded Vlakplaas) stopped a mini-bus full of students affiliated with the ANC (African National Congress, now the
ruling party) and brutally shot seven of them dead. Television and radio stories that day proclaimed that government units had killed seven "terrorists", and as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission later revealed, weapons were planted on the dead bodies. Governments since the Roman Empire have been using that label for underground resistance fighters. We should be thoughtful about how that term is used by media and by government, and how we are intended to regard people so labelled differently. Those labeled "latrones" by the Romans became eligible for the extreme punisment of crucifixion, and it is often argued today that extreme tactics are necessary to combat terrorists. Back to the Guguletu Seven, pictures at a local mini-museum show smiling soldiers standing over bullet-riddled bodies while neighbours look on from behind the police barricades. There is a memorial there today, part of which is pictured here.Other highlights included a visit to a Shebeen, an informal tavern in an informal settlement building, which were once illegal, but are sort of okay now. Actually, when we walked in all the men in place became suddenly very quiet. It was not until Xolani explained to them that the white man was not an undercover detective that they lightened up and I got a round of what they were drinking. In this picture I am drinking umqombothi ( http://www.dispatch.co.za/1999/07/31/features/ROMANS1.HTM ), a home-made beer-like concoction made from sorghum and mealie (corn). It looks like soapy water and was a bit thicker than beer. And grainy. It has a sweetish, perfumey taste, and the texture of very
thin Cream-of-Wheat. An acquired taste I think, although I hear Anheuser-Busch is marketing a sorghum beer in the US. I very politely drank several big gulps of what I was served, but I wouldn't exactly seek it out again in the future. Back in the day, shebeens were important meeting places for groups resisting the Apartheid regime. We ended the tour with my first trip to Mzoli's, where I ate my fair share of the pile of meat pictured at bottom.An explanation of the pictures, from the top:
1) Xolani standing beside outhouses in the informal settlements. About a hundred people will use these, and they are only pumped out once a week. Many (but not all) of the informal settlement areas have a communal water tap set up, and as I've said they are often hooked up with pay as you go electricity. I didn't see much of that in this area.
2) Pigs feeding on rubbish. This used to be a nice wetland, but all the garbage has killed the frogs and other wildlife that lived there. No place else to put the trash or dump human waste. It stinks, and is a breeding ground for disease. The shacks closest to the marsh get flooded in heavy rains, and even those farther uphill can have problems with water seeping up from the ground (or through the roof). I have always loved it when it is stormy outside, and I am warm under the blankets drinking a cup of tea. Now, it makes me think of the people in the shantytowns, who have to deal with wet blankets and mattresses, and maybe have nothing but a parrafin heater -- if they are lucky.
3-4) One of the better new houses being built in Langa. It is being remodled from a former hostel building, and those moving in participated in a monthly payment scheme for a while which reserved a unit for them. Unemployment is high, so only those with a steady job and a decent wage could afford to do this. The one we went into had several rooms, lots of light, fresh plaster and paint, very good conditions. You can see by the yard that they are still under construction.
5) Across the street from this new building is one of the old hostels. Pictured are Xolani with the woman who lives in this room with her family, and Sara, an American college student who worked at JL Zwane for a few weeks this summer. One of the crazy things about going around with Xolani is that he will just walk into people's houses, say hi and ask if we can look around.
He doesn't know these people, but they always let us right in. One perk to taking your tour with a township resident.6) Part of the Guguletu Seven memorial.
7) Me drinking at the Shebeen.
8) Mzoli's meat.
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