It's just like riding a bike...

Cape Town, South Africa

I was asked to be the trip leader for an orphanage visit/township bicycle tour on our first day in South Africa. Two things about this itinerary: One, I am tired of getting the feedback that these orphanage visits are basically an opportunity take pictures of poor children with their being absolutely nothing I can do about it. Two, I haven’t been on a bicycle in the better part of two decades and really wasn’t looking forward to it. This particular trip turned out to be a pleasant surprise. First off, we visited Baphumelele Orphanage in Khayelistsha Township, the largest township in Cape Town, the second largest in South Africa only behind Soweto outside of Johannesburg. This particular orphanage caters to 106 children, many of whom are orphans due to HIV/AIDS. I’ve heard various statistics on how many people in South Africa suffer from HIV/AIDS, anywhere between 1 in 4 to 1 in 5. Either way, the numbers are staggering. While HIV/AIDS is on the decline in most of the rest of the world, it is actually on the rise in South Africa. The organization also hosts a school in addition to a bakery and a soup kitchen in order to help fund their efforts.

With these “service trips,” there tends to be this sort of cognitive dissonance between wanting to learn more about the social justice issues at hand and feeling like intruders in the way that we are able to do so. On the way to the orphanage, I even challenged the students on the bus to take 10 minutes, put away their cameras, and really focus on interacting with the children. Everyone nodded along in agreement, but still some still proceeded to treat the children and staff like they were animals in a zoo. One of the toddlers was crying, so the staff member on site picked her up to console her. Folks stood less than three feet from the staff member who was holding her, zoomed in, and took their picture. I, along with the staff member (who spoke perfect English by the way) was stunned. She asked, “Why did they take my picture without asking? They should have asked me.” I wanted to ask her if she could come say that to our entire shipboard community. I just can’t wrap my idea around the idea of taking pictures of people like they’re zoo animals. Yes, they look different than you, but they’re still people. Take out your camera, point to it, point to them, and if they give you the thumbs up, you’re good to go.  Simple as that.

After the orphanage visit, we headed to Langa township to do a bicycle tour. First of all, I hate when people say, it’s just like riding a bike. Because it’s not true. Not even a little bit. I didn’t learn how to ride a bike until 6^th grade, about 5 years behind everyone else I knew. In middle school, my dad bought me a 10 speed bike for my birthday. It was hot pink and purple and quite a big deal for someone who had only been riding a bike for less than a year. Now let’s talk about the last time I distinctly remember riding a bike. Around that time, they had just put in a new bike path in Omaha. We were out on the new path and the novice cyclist that I was, was a little unsteady. A rollerblader coming up behind me said, “Passing on your right.” Instead of moving to the left like I should have done, I veered right thus proceeding to run her over. Mortified at the tire marks I’d left on her leg, I put the bike in the garage, vowing to never ride again. A short time later, my dad was at home with my baby brother who was taking a nap. The garage was open and my dad saw some punk kid go into our garage and come out riding my bike. He couldn’t chase him too far because baby brother was sleeping and he couldn’t leave him alone. When I arrived home from school, my dad told me what happened. We drove around the neighborhood, looking behind bushes and in dumpsters, trying to find my not so beloved bike, but to no avail. The bike was nowhere to be found. After my recent trauma on the bike path, I opted not to get another bike thus ending my hopes of every being an Olympic triathlete. So that’s the last time I was on a bike. Needless to say I wasn’t too keen on riding a bike in a foreign country.

The bike tour actually wasn’t too bad. I didn’t hit anyone, get hit by anyone, or fall off. And I learned a few things in the process. Our guide was actually from the township we visited so he was able to give us a firsthand account of what it was like to grow up there. We saw ladies cooking and selling sheep’s heads, the upper middle and lower class homes in the township, and ended our tour with a performance by the students at Happy Feet, an after school organization that teaches kids in the township dance. Happy Feet gives the kids an incentive to attend school, study hard, and be on their best behavior, all requirements for being Happy Feet participants. The kids showed us some dances and even taught us a few moves. All in all I consider it a win.

When I got back from the trip, I headed across the street to the waterfront, an area with fancy shopping and fine dining. There was also a huge shopping mall, the South Africa Mall of America. Anything you could possibly want could be found inside that mall and for probably more than you wanted to pay. Between the township and the waterfront, it was a day of contrasts. Dichotomy day, if you will. I heard several students talk about how they were just going to hang around the waterfront or on Long Street, another shopping area peppered with bars and restaurants, during our time in Cape Town, missing out completely on the very recent history that makes South Africa the nation it is today. We’re not talking ancient history, folks. Apartheid officially ended in 1994, within our students’ lifetime. Staying at the waterfront and in fancy safari lodges, ignoring the very large elephant that, almost 20 years later, is still in the room, isn’t giving South Africa its due. The very that least we, as visitors, can do is learn about and recognize the resolve of this great nation and learn from them.