Living in a Township for the Weekend
For those of you that might not know, a township is an area that the non-white population of South Africa were forced to stay during the apartheid. There were three racial categories during the apartheid: white, black and colored. Black and colored people were put in separate townships, these were separated by roads to strengthen the racial divide.
Townships still exist here in South Africa today. The homes range from tin shacks with no bathrooms to medium sized houses. You might be wondering why people still live in townships since the apartheid ended about 20 years ago. Well, it is usually because of economic reasons and/or they do not want to leave their tight-knit community.
I stayed in Mama Titi's house for my homestay. Even though they only had one small heater, I felt the warmth of that house as soon as I stepped in from the rain outside. There was a warmth from the closeness of the family that echoed through out the house. Most families in townships are not the typical nuclear American families that we are used to. Everyone that stayed in Mama Titi's house were all girls and women. There were distant relatives, a daughter-in-law and granddaughters all staying under one roof.
Honestly, I thought the house I was going to be staying in was going to be one or two rooms and resemble more of a shack. But this was just from the narrow view and little knowledge of townships. Mama Titi's house was very impressive. She had nice furniture, a television, and two to three bedrooms. She has done extensions to the house and is always doing something to improve it. I found this inspiring because she is also looking after about three girls as well.
As dinner was being prepared, Eliya (the other America doing the homestay) and I had very interesting and reflective conversations with two of the teenage girls as the youngest girl tried to dread our hair. We talked about their work, school, life in the States and township and of course Kim and Kanye's baby. They were surprised that most middle class to rich Americans don't have full time workers at their houses. I was told this is common for rich South Africans.
With our stomachs growling from the smells lingering out of the kitchen, Mama Titi called us for dinner. There was roasted chicken, pumpkin, cooked spinach and a starchy mashed potato called pot with sauce on top. All of which we ate with our hands. I really enjoyed eating with my hands; it made the meal feel more personal. It also made my 6-year-old dreams come true. All of the food was delicious, of course.
It is winter here in South Africa, so the house was a bit chilly after dinner. We all snuggled up on the couch with layers of blankets and tea. Mama Titi put in a DVD of her church worship service. I can tell you one thing, there is nothing like South African gospel music. There was dancing, drumming and the most beautiful and smooth voices.
Mama Titi then told me a little about her life story. Her marriage did not go so well and she does not want to get married again. She told me that she doesn't need a husband because she has God. It has left her in a much happier place and she is very involved in the community. Mama Titi had a passion in her that would not be held down. Just being around her, you felt better about yourself and the world that you live in.
In the morning, we were going to church with another family. So breakfast was bittersweet. We had our last conversations over oatmeal and said our goodbyes. I felt so comfortable with these girls, like I've known them forever. I truly hope that I will see them again.
As we walked through the township to go to church, many strangers would wave and say good morning and the kids were playing in the streets. Not a sight most would have when they think "township".
Coming in the church, I felt the same welcoming warmth as I did in Mama Titi's house. The worship was fun because everyone was dancing without a care in the world. The music was a mix of more tradition songs and South African gospel. The pastor, I believe, is a missionary from somewhere in Europe. So the sermon was in both English and Xhosa. All of this made a refreshingly diverse service.
Xhosa is the main language in many townships. It is very fun to listen to but hard to speak because there three different types of clicks. So I enjoyed listening to both preachers even though I could only understand one of them.
One thing I definitely learned from this experience is that we need to put our pre-perceptions of a place and/or people and just listen. Before, I thought that people that lived in townships were just dying to get out. They aren't. Many do go work in the city but come back during the weekend to be with their family. It is not the township that they want to get out of but the economic situation. A township is a community, not place of just poverty and despair.
