Robben Island, Desmond Tutu, and stormy weather..oh my!

It has been awhile since my last post, but things have just been crazy busy recently and I haven’t had very much time to sit down and write. I’ve still been having the time of my life here, and learning and experiencing so much with every day that comes. I’ll just recap some of the most exciting things that have been happening as of late.

I saw Desmond Tutu speak at my school! It was incredible, even just for sitting in the same room as a man who has had such an immense impact on South African history and post-apartheid thought. In case some might not be as familiar with him, he is an Archbishop, has won the Nobel Peace Prize, and was the chairman of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, which was a worldwide movement following the end of apartheid to overcome the bloodiness and hatred of the past made to foster nationwide healing through uncovering truth and granting forgiveness. In exchange for perpetrators coming forward to confess their crimes and showing repentance, they would be granted amnesty if deemed by the commission to be expressing the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and the actions were politically motivated and not excessive. This system has many flaws in itself, including difficulties in ensuring the “whole truth” is being told, with displaying “true” remorse, victims feeling unsatisfied or cheated, etc. but largely, it has been a fairly effective path of moving on and pressing forward into the future as opposed to getting hung up on the past, which cannot be changed. The occasion for Tutu’s presence was a debate among many other intellectuals, former political prisoners and human rights activists from Liberia, Congo, and South Africa. The debate was entitled “Speak Truth to Power”, which centered on Kerry Kenndy’s book of the same name, and she headed the debate. It was all about not just sitting back and accepting what those in powerful positions decide to impose upon the masses, and making sure that the public is problematizing and questioning each action and policy being passed in their country. It was really interesting, and a lot of the speakers ended up emphasizing the importance of the youth not being passive but getting involved in what goes on in their country and government, and how we are the ones who hold the key to change now and for future generations. I enjoyed it, especially since as Desmond Tutu was walking in, I was sitting in the aisle seat and he looked me right in the eye and greeted me! I was expecting it to be a momentous occasion and to not even be able to get in to see him, but it was in an intimate venue and felt very personal. Apparently he comes to UCT a lot, so for many South African students, it was no big deal.

Another amazing experience we had was going to Robben Island, which served as an isolated prison during apartheid, especially for political prisoners. It is probably most famous for being the place where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated for 18 of the 27 years of his life he spent in prison. We toured around the island on a bus with a very lively and knowledgeable tour guide, who showed us many of the sites, including the mass leper graves (the island was previously used as a spot of exile for lepers where thousands died and never received proper burials nor even had their bodies identified, and when it was to become a prison, they simply built on top of the thousands of corpses); the lime quarry where prisoners were forced to do hard labor for hours, and which also ended up as a place where great minds would debate and conspire, formulating the birth of a revolution while out of earshot of the guards; and the schools, mosques and churches that the people currently living on the island frequent. One of the sites that had the biggest impact on me was this little one room flat, far away from everything else, where Robert Sobukwe, considered during apartheid to be one of the greatest threats to their institution of government and also seen as one of the leading inspirations for the anti-apartheid movement was kept for years in complete isolation until his death. He was the founder of the Pan-Africanist Congress, and led the famed Pass-Law protest, where thousands of blacks burned their hated passbooks that the white government mandated they carry at all time to identify that they were black and regulate where they were allowed to go to regulate their movement and tell if their taxes and fees were all in order (which they often weren’t and this landed many in jail for extended periods of times). It was basically another tool to dehumanize and enumerate blacks, making them seem more like possessions or dogs to be categorized and kept watch on. This protest led to the devastatingly infamous Sharpeville Massacre as well, where police opened fire on hundreds of protesters, killing many (mostly due to gun shots to the BACK-indicating that victims were running away, not pursuing or acting aggressive toward the police). I recommend you Google or Wikipedia any of these terms if you’d like to know more about them, or just ask me. Anyway, what really got me was the way the prison guards were instructed to treat him. It was as if he did not even exist; was nothing more than a window through which to gaze. They were under strict and impenetrable orders to not say a single word to him, nor even acknowledge his existence in the slightest way. Two guards were instructed to stand outside of his house, and if either one so much as glanced at him as if he were more than air, the other was compelled to tell their superiors, and that person would be terminated from their job, and severely punished. I can’t even imagine the dehumanization that he must have felt, and I don’t know how he didn’t go insane under such trying conditions. The strategy of the government was obvious: to completely destroy and break his spirit to ensure that the threat of even the idea of him was totally obliterated. But they had to keep him alive, to avoid the major backlash that would have occurred if word got out that they had killed him or let him die. So instead they let his soul rot away, and another casualty of the revolution was tallied. We also saw Nelson Mandela’s cell, which was powerful, but felt extremely touristy and almost cheapened by the manner in which people were flocking to it talking pictures and how they were acting. We were also rushed, and I would have preferred to have a more individualized and personal experience there, even just a few minutes to quietly reflect, but that wasn’t possible at the time. One of the other more powerful moments for me was the boat ride over to Robben Island, just thinking about how Mandela and all the others must have felt when they took this journey across the ocean; how confused and scared they must have been inside but how courageous and inspiring they were for being able to “speak truth to power” (as the debate discussed earlier suggested) and put their lives on the line for something they so strongly believed in with endless selflessness and conviction, sacrificing themselves to the revolution. That was a unique and reflective experience for me, and it got me thinking about what cause I live for; what it is that I would lay down everything⎯family, friends, comfort, physical and mental stability and wellness, etc.⎯to fight for. I am still figuring that out, by the way, but I have some strong indications and possibilities churning around in my head.

I still need to write about so much, including my homestay this past weekend in a colored township called Oceanview, but I am going to save that for the next post, which I promise will come soon. This one is already long enough as it is, so I’ll break it up into two parts. It is currently torrentially storming and hailing!!! Until later…much love and peace!