After a bit of shopping and another check on the pressure in John's eyes, which have gone down since his last check, we headed off for Soweto.
The name Soweto comes from South West Township but there is no way it could be called a township now. It is a huge city. We got lost a couple of times but the locals were very helpful in giving us directions even though they were saying things like 'you know the place that used to be old hotel on the corner'. So with such descriptions we were able to find Lebo's Soweto Backpackers.
It was a quirky place with friendly staff and surprisingly comfortable. We had a double room that the previous day had been a bunk room. They try to make the place fit what ever the guests want. The place used to be Lebo's grandmother's house and he converted it and then moved his grandmother to another place which he also uses as an overflow place.
A sign near the gate says 'to the beach'. A fine gravel path that looks like sands takes you to the outdoor area that has 4 small rooms. They are made of corrugated iron and brightly painted and then covered with bamboo and have dry palm leaves on the roof to create a beach bungalow. A hammock is slung between two trees and one room has table soccer another has a pool table while the last two have a bar and a seating area. A peacocks makes itself at game and a parrot sits on a perch screaming for guests to play with it. In a corner opposite the bar is a seating area around a tiny firepit where you can relax in the evening on cushions on top of logs. The tree beside the fire is black from years of soot and if you didn't notice the 3 hens roosting in the tree and keeping warm above the fire, then you would when they pooped on you. The chickens seem to disappear at night but are after the crumbs under the patio dining area at meal times.
The backpackers supports a local youth group with sport and art activities. A young German lad was staying at the hostel and he would train the kids 3 times a week in exchange for a bed and meals. He got a bit frustrated as the older boys wanted to play in the weekend games but not commit to the practise sessions.
An Irish guy staying at the same time as us won a photo competition and had to make a video on the affects of the World Cup Soccer to their businesses in Soweto which was sponsored by a charity. The backpackers used to be next door to a huge rubbish dump but that got cleaned up and turned into a park with play equipment, braais, and bamboo shelters with seats and tables. During the World Cup soccer the park was used as a campground. Now it is back to being a play park but still has the flags and shelters.
We joined a bicycle tour for 4 hours with the guide from Lebo's along with a Canadian guy and a Frenchman with his 22 month old son. There are 3 distinct areas in Soweto, a first class area called Beverly Hills that could fit into any expensive residential area in Johannesburg with its watered grass lawns and comprehensive security systems, and its private rubbish collectors. The second class area had much smaller houses with fences and some with barbed wire and others with high fences, and a weekly rubbish collection. The third class area were one roomed hostels all joined together for which they paid 45 rand a month, had 4 families share one locked toilet in the street, no running water and rubbish collection once a month. This meant that the rubbish piled up in the street and every now and then it got burnt. To afford the rent they built shacks in the yard and rented them out. We visited one of these places and chatted with the tenant.
An election promise by the ANC was to replace the single housing hostels with new public housing complexes. Residents were told that they would get an apartment with the same number that their hostel had but once the elections were won the residents were told that they had to qualify for a house and it wouldn't be automatic, so the new buildings have been vandalised even though they are still under construction. Some have airconditioning units but there are no tenants in any of the apartments.
Later we visited a shebeen, a local drinking place which is frequented by old people, to sample sorghum beer from a black communal pot. Of course we subsidized the patrons who would know when the bike tour was coming around and come for their free drink. It was a dark corrugated shed with bench seats lining the walls. There were a couple of women inside and when they were passed the pot of beer they clapped their hands first. I asked why they did that and was told that women were not allowed in shebeens in the olden days so to show how grateful they are for being allowed to be there, they clap their hands before drinking.
The little French boy was a hit with the young locals. They jumped up and down in front of him, patted his head, fingered his curls, rubbed the skin on his arms and babbled away to him. These boys had the lids off a tin can and were pretending they were steering wheels and raced around making car noises.
All around Soweto are huge yellow hills, the tailings from the gold mining days. A landmark is the two water cooling towers that are colourfully painted and where you can bungy jump between them.
Visited the Hector Pieterson Square which is a monument to the 1976 student riots in, where they were protesting at having to do secondary schooling in the Afrikaans language.
Ate a traditional Soweto lunch called kota, half a loaf of bread covered with tomato sauce then filled with fried chips, fried egg, slice of processed cheese and a couple of pink coloured slices of processed meat, which is eaten without cutlery.
Later we rode through Vilakasi Street where Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Tutu had both lived but did not know each other as children but both went on to win Nobel Peace prizes.
One day we drove to the Apartheid Museum and saw Soccer city stadium on the way.At the museum we bumped into 2 NZ women from Kaikoura who thought the museum would have gold and diamond displays. Doh! On our return from the museum we were told the room we had booked was not available because a group of 26 American students and their chaperones wanted Lebo's and the overflow house to themselves. The 4 lads staying had to sleep in tents in the 'beach area' as the students were not allowed to share the dorm with them. We had to move into the luxurious B & B near Nelson Mandela's house but only had to pay backpacker prices. It was quiet as we were the only guests and we missed the firepit story telling from Lebo's place.
After a bit of
