So on June 22, we set up a tour of the city of Soweto. Soweto lies just to the Southwest of Johannesburg, hence the name: So(outh)we(stern) to(wnship). It is sort of a living monument in itself to apartheid and racial segregation in South Africa. The main reason we used a tour was not because of safety concerns (I've been assured that Soweto is safe, especially during daylight) but because we had no idea where anything was in this place and we could use the history lesson that a tour guide provides.
Our tour guide was a man who went by the name Sunny Boy. He said he is called that because he always like to hang out in the sun as a child. Regrettably, I didn't take a picture with Sunny Boy, as we had to part ways very hastily so Joe could make his flight. One of the first places we stopped was the Elias Motsoaledi informal settlement. The man for whom the informal settlement was named was one of the eight defendants who were sentenced to life imprisonment (including Nelson Mandela) in the Rivonia Trial in 1963 and 1964. During the trip to the informal settlement, we had another guide, a man who called himself "B." B showed us some of the harsh living conditions people have to endure in these informal settlements. We were instructed by both B and Sunny Boy not to give the little kids money, and they were very persistent in pursuing it. I did not give any of the kids money, but some of their stories and pleas were very heart-rending.
Moving on, we rushed by a few of the major landmarks of Soweto before stopping at Vilakazi Street, home to (among other things) Nelson Mandela's former house and Orlando West High School. Orlando West High School was the epicenter of one of the earliest major incidents in the 1976 Soweto Uprising against apartheid. In a planned march from Orlando West High School to Orlando East Police Station to protest the teaching of Afrikaans in black schools, police shot and killed 13 year old Hector Pieterson, the first death in a bloody year that saw over 600 students killed in protests of apartheid. We also visited the museum built in Hector Pieterson's name, which commemorated the events of the Soweto Uprising.
After Sunny Boy dropped us off, we booked off for our respective flights, but not before watching South Africa give qualification for the second round a run for the money as they threatened to beat the woeful France by the required margin to advance. There was palpable excitement about it in the air as residents were blowing their vuvuzelas as it looked like this impossible dream may come true. It was not to be, however, and South Africa crashed out.
I would just like to thank everyone in South Africa for all their hospitality and good will while I was there. It was a truly fantastic experience meeting all the lovely people I got to cross paths with, and I hope their country keeps getting better and better. On another note, I saw many people in South Africa who have to struggle so hard just to get what I might consider a little reward in their lives. It is just another reason to be thankful for what I've got and what massive material wealth has been given to me all my life, most of the time without me even realizing it. For while I may not be wealthy in my country, there are a great deal of South Africans who can only dream of the opportunities I've had in my life.
OK, enough waxing philosophical, it's off for my favorite thing: another red eye. This time, I'll be in Cairo when I wake...
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