Cape Town

October 2, 2009

There have been two different bugs going around the ship since we left Ghana. Upper body and lower body…I got hit with the latter so have been out of commission for a while.

Now I gotta go get dressed and take myself up to watch the sunrise and the arrival of our pilot who will take us into the port of Cape Town. Don’t feel so good about going there with all its history of apartheid. Why are we so horrid to each other?

October 4, 2009, Sunday

Arrival in CapeTown.

Our first day in Cape Town was very nice. I went on the afternoon City Orientation Tour. We visited the Castle of Hope - not a castle really but a fortress with lovely grounds and soft yellow barracks buildings all surrounded by a wall made of stone and brick. We walked into a dungeon where they kept prisoners sometime in the past. Don’t remember who ‘they’ were nor who ‘the prisoners’ were but it was small and dark and darker still as you descended the stairs. It was a dungeon, for goodness sake! Should I find looking at a dungeon to be a fascinating activity? After the Castle we strolled through a lovely city park/garden with lush trees, plants, flowers, lots of mourning doves cooing in the thick branches and some perky squirrels poking around in the dirt. Lots of blacks in the park – families, sweethearts, picnicking groups. We stopped at a sweet outdoor restaurant for tea and scones – part of the tour. There were no blacks having tea, I noticed. Then we walked to the Museum – I don’t know which one but it had a very nice display of African artifacts including things like pottery, beaded items, a display showing how they made beads from shells and bones ‘in the olden days’, baskets, mud huts with thatched roofs, jewelry, slices of walls from caves with paintings that dated anywhere from 5000 years ago to 450,000 years ago!!!!!! That’s four hundred and fifty thousand years ago!!!! There was a terrific display of a gigantic whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling – not unlike the one in the Natural History Museum in New York and, no doubt, in other museums around the world. I’ll bet there’s a whale carcass in some Chicago museum too. And in LA! These guys were pretty old though I don’t know exactly how old. There’s a picture of me standing between two jawbones of a whale. The bones alone were taller than a full-grown man! Impressive.

Back on the ship I saw Rankin (fellow Life Long Learner) sitting alone at a table in the dining room that was relatively empty. Most people dash off the ship to go on overnight excursions as soon as the port officials give the go sign. So we were talking about my trepidation over going to a township. He told me he had a terribly confusing time in Morocco and in Ghana the first time he came to Africa which was in 1967, I believe, on his first SAS voyage and that he was still confused because in Ghana particularly, so little has changed. Once again he found himself weeping upon seeing all the poverty there.

That night we went by bus to the Arts Center where we had wine and h’or d’oeuvres and a speech by an alumnus of SAS who now manages the Arts Center. Then we attended a performance of HMS Pinafore. In spite of there being a full house that night, the seat next to me remained empty throughout the whole performance. Well, not really empty. The ole Captain of the Pinafore from 1956 Spring Hill College was there, laughing, cursing because he had been far superior to this guy on the stage! Right. It was nostalgic but oh so much fun. They took liberties staging this piece and it was fine. There were good voices, good dancing, a beautiful set and lighting: all in all it was a pleasure that made me laugh. Kathy, you would have…well…I’m not sure. I guess you would have liked it. Yes, you would have. There was a student next to me from the Basque Country of Spain who said he couldn’t understand a single word. I tried to explain a little about G&S to him and assure him that most people didn’t understand either because the actors were either Brits or South Africans and their accents were very difficult to understand.

I felt sorry for some of the kids who barely endured the performance. For me it was pure fun.

October 4, 2009, Sunday

I have just had an experience that brought chill bumps to my arms and tears to my eyes.

I’d put the last stamp on the postcards and walked out to mail them in Tymitz Square (the central place on the ship). A middle aged couple were shaking hands with and saying goodbye to a crew member. I couldn’t help it, I had to ask them, “Are you visitors to the ship?”

“We’re alumni, the Spring 09 Voyage and we’ve just come aboard for a visit.”

I was thrilled to meet them and asked how they’d heard of Semester at Sea etc. and what did they do…are they living in Cape Town? Lavinia and Terry Cranford-Browne: she worked for Archbishop Desmond Tutu. “I was his PA for 25 years and just retired last year. That’s when we decided to go on Semester at Sea.”

“Oh my God, I have goose bumps on my arms!” I

exclaimed.

“And Terry”, Lavinia continued, “is a political activist.” Oh Lord! How could I be so lucky?!

At 11 this morning, Ellie and I left the ship to shop at the waterfront mall. It was a doable walk for the two of us. We both use canes, Ellie having been in a terrible auto accident a number of years ago. Early on in the voyage, once I realized I could probably get away with it, I said to Ellie one day, “We can sing our camp song, Ellie: ‘We are the Jolly Girls from Cripple Camp; and we are brimming full of peppity-epp-epp-epp.’” (I hope I don’t offend anyone with that. If I do, get over it!) She laughed and we’ve become buddies. We walked around the mall which was lovely or grotesque, depending on your point of view about malls. I got a small carryon bag with wheels for my safari later this week; Ellie got some stuff then we sat down and had a “cocoa chiller” which turned out to be a chocolate milk shake; then took a cab back to the ship. The shopping thing is a bit of a problem. I don’t know what the hell to get. However, in the book store I was able to buy some cute postcards shaped like animals for all the grandchildren and for KM, Stacy & CJ and CMR and for my three siblings. Stamps too. We saw some stuff that I liked. I love African arts and crafts…designs etc. and am hoping to pick up a few things for my house wherever that ends up being located. And, of course, I want to get things for each of the kids and grandkids. Afterall, Christmas is coming.

Don’t worry about it, Liz.

Ok, God. I’ll just leave the shopping schtick to You.

So back to Lavinia and Terry. I’ve been vacillating about going to Robben Island and to visit a Township. I don’t want to look at the cell where that poor man, Nelson Mandela and so many other political prisoners sat or the limestone quarry where they worked for…how many years? 20? Nor do I want to go to some ghetto and ogle the poor people who have suffered so much at the hands of colonialists and red/necks from England and the Netherlands or wherever they were from. I felt I simply didn’t have the stomach for it. Ellie and I were going to go to a crafts mall tomorrow to shop. Ditch the township and Robben island ideas. I was so thrilled to meet this couple and told them so and asked if they could spare a few minutes to sit down and talk. Would they like to come to my cabin, just a few steps away? They agreed and after they sat down, noticing and commenting on little things they remembered from their voyage, I said, “I’m so grateful we can talk if only for a little while.” I hesitated but then barged on, ” I have a particular question I’d like to ask you. Can you tell me…can you give me a reason for wanting to visit a township? I haven’t wanted to go. I’m afraid to go.”

“Oh don’t be afraid,” said, Terry. “You’ll be perfectly safe. No harm will come to you. The people are wonderfully friendly.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid I won’t be safe. I’m afraid that I will be so angry about colonialism; and so sad about subjugation and enslavement of human beings. Can you tell me why I shouldn’t feel that way?” By now I was wiping tears from my cheeks …I was so very moved by this opportunity to spend a moment with this woman who had enjoyed years of time working with archbishop Desmond Tutu and of this man who has surely been in the thick of so much political activity and perhaps even had a hand in shaping history in one way or another. It was like being in the presence of saints. Sorry for the drama, but that’s what I was feeling. I don’t like even to use the word ‘hate’ but I do have a big problem with racism and stupid, blind prejudice. Look at the wars and deaths and suffering they have caused human beings! WHY?

Terry began to talk and how I wish I’d had a tape recorder. “The reason for going to visit a township is that the experience will give you hope.”

“Hope?” I asked. What in the world could he mean by that. Looking at people crammed into row after row of ‘houses’, ‘homes’ built of corrugated metal with no electricity, primitive facilities at best is going to give me hope?

By the way, kids of all ages, please, please do some research. Go to Google and type in some of these words: South Africa, apartheid, townships, colonialism. Parents: explain some of this to your children; go to their schools and explain some of it, especially if they are following this voyage in any way. Adapt some of this stuff for the children. We need to teach them gratitude!!! They deserve to learn to be grateful!!!

Lavinia took up where Terry left off, speaking enthusiastically: “You want to go to a township because your visit will be a gift to the people. You will give them an opportunity to know that they have not been forgotten by the rest of the world. They know you will tell the story of your visit to your friends and families and in that way they don’t have to feel abandoned. They will have hope that life can improve for them and their children. You will be able in your own individual way to spread awareness of the conditions in which these people live and in the process, perhaps, help to solve some of the problems even if it’s in the smallest way.

I got it! It was a relief. I was grateful to them and explained how I don’t like to dwell on the fact that we lost Carolyn and Greg but that I do share our story because it may move people to do what they can to support research that will bring about a cure for brain cancer. One day there will be no more brain tumors and no more apartheid…but only if we know about them and are moved to do what we can to stop them.

Idealistic. So what? Being idealistic is a job somebody’s got to do. Why not me? Why not you?