Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Making Excuses in Maputo

Hello from Mozambique. After 10 days of wandering across southern Africa, Katie and I are as far east as we're going to go, and tomorrow we start heading west... and north. But internet access has been sporatic and very, very slow, so we're just gonna have to skip the updates until we get back to Cape Town in mid-March.

We've already been to Lesotho and Swaziland in addition to spending a couple days here, in Maputo. And we're having a blast.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

The Great Trek

Sorry for the pause in the posts. Katie has been working feverishly to finish up her thesis, which means she gets first priority when it comes to using the computer. But she could be done as early as tomorrow. When she finishes, the posts will resume - but only for a week.

After that, we're piling into Swamp Thing and heading off on a big drive across South Africa. Our first stop is the Brede River, about two hours east of Cape Town. The rest of our plans are still fluid, but we hope to see South Africa's Wild Coast, and maybe pop in to Swaziland before heading to Johannesburg for a few days. We might drive through Botswana, and we are eager to spend more time in Namibia. We'll leave on Feb. 17th and may not get back to Cape Town until March 20. It should be quite an adventure.

Swamp Thing is currently getting a thorough going over by a mechanic to make sure he's in shape for the trip. He's got some long days ahead.

Katie and I, on the other hand, can't wait.

I'm hoping that I'll be able to get to a computer about once a week to type up a journal of the drive, but we'll have to play that by ear once we're on the road.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Fire on the Mountain

Parts of Cape Town were on edge yesterday evening after a minor fire near the top of Table Mountain - started by a British tourist who reportedly tossed a cigarette out his open car window - turned into a very big deal. One hiker died on the mountain, apparently of smoke inhalation, and the flames were creeping in two directions yesterday: down the slope toward a posh residential neighborhood that overlooks the city center, and over the top of a pass that leads to a beachside suburb called Camps Bay.

Table Mountain usually looks like this when viewed from the city, though I am not always in the foreground:

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But this is what it looked like yesterday:

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There still might be hikers who are missing, but the firefighters managed to keep teh fire from reaching any houses and the fire is under control now.

This all happened several miles from where we live, and around a bend in the mountain, so we couldn't see the flames out our front window. But we could see the smoke, and as the sun was setting behind the mountain yesterday, it was burning through the smoke with an amazing bright red intensity. Every once in awhile, a helicopter trailing a big water-carrying device went flying past the window. In fact, teh helicopters are still out today, putting out the last of it.

Further news reports from IOL here and News24 here. News 24 was the source of those pictures.

Monday, January 23, 2006

You are WRONG!

We've got another offering today in the Is-It-Wrong-to-Laugh-at-Idiots-When-Their-Idiocy-Did-So-Much-Harm? category. And it's a doozy. It certainly tops last week's media criticism from the apartheid government.

But first, to understand why what we're about to share is so cringe-worthy, we need to do a quick review of some South African history. A quick profile, if you will, of one of the good guys: a brilliant Anglican priest by the name of Father Trevor Huddleston.

Father Huddleston was born and raised in England, but sent to South Africa as a missionary, and ended up running a school in Sophiatown, the black community that was once located near downtown Johannesburg. In his 13 years in South Africa, he became more and more outspoken about the way the government treated black people, and he aligned himself with the African National Congress long before it was fashionable to do so.

His activism eventually attracted the attention of the National Party, the group that ushered in formal apartheid. And partly because of his protests over the forced removal of thousands of people from Sophiatown (which was eventually torn down by the less-than-brilliant urban planners of the National Party, who decreed that it was to become a "Europeans only" area) Father Huddleston was banned by the government and called back home by the spineless church leaders in England.

But when he got home, he wrote a book called "Naught for Your Comfort" that blew the whistle to the international community about what was really happening in South Africa and attacked apartheid as being a moral evil. It argued -- long before such sentiments were commonly held in South Africa, England, or, for that matter, the United States -- that any person with a conscience could not favor the policies being advanced by the government of South Africa.

"Any doctrine based on racial or colour prejudice and enforced by the State is therefore an affront to human dignity and ipso facto an insult to God himself," he wrote in his book. "There is no room for compromise or fence sitting over a question such as racial ideology when it so dominates the thought of a whole country."

And he attacked his own church, and its adherents: "It is not that white Christians are bad," he wrote, "It is simply that they fail to see the relevance of their faith to social problems."

When Huddleston died in 1998, two Nobel Peace Prize winners weighed in on his legacy. Archbishop Desmond Tutu said: "If I had to choose one person who got the anti-apartheid movement onto the world stage, that person would be Archbishop Huddleston without a doubt. The world was a better place for having had Trevor Huddleston." And Nelson Mandela said: "At a time when identifying with the cause of equality for all South Africans was seen as the height of betrayal by the privileged embraced the downtrodden. He forsook all that apartheid South Africa offered the privileged community. And he did so at great risk."

So it is in this context that I present to you the cover of a book that Katie found in our local used book store, which was written shortly after the publication of Huddleston's "Naught for Your Comfort."

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Wow. Talk about being on the wrong side of history.

And are you ready to cringe some more? (First, a reminder that the word "Bantu" was used to describe black people in South Africa back when the book was published in 1956, and is considered wildly insulting now.) This is from the inside jacket copy:

DESPITE the world-wide publicity given to Father Huddleston's campaign against the South African Government's native policy, the public in this country has had little opportunity so far of hearing the case of those who truly believe that in apartheid lies the most hopeful solution of South Africa's problems.

In a quiet, unemotional carefully reasoned book, Mr. Seward -- who from childhood has lived in close and (it is apparent from his writing) affectionate relation with native people -- makes clear the purpose of the present policy as a design for the long-term benefit of white and black alike.

He shows that direct competition with the more advanced European imposes severe limits on the self-realization of the Bantu...


Inside, in case you weren't sure what apartheid was about, Mr. Seward is kind enough to draw us a picture.

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Viewing that picture, the incredulous chuckle sort of dies in your throat a little bit, along with any feelings of moral superiority. Of course when this book was published in 1956, segregation was alive and well in the United States.

A Wikipedia profile of Father Huddleston is here, and an entry about him in a South African history website is here. His obituary in the New York Times, from which some of this information is drawn, can be read on the ANC website here.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

How to Write About Africa

I winced a little when a copy editor headlined one of my travel stories about Cape Town with the words "Urban Safari." It seems a rather too obvious choice. But now, thanks to a fantastic journal called Granta, I am happy to report that using the words "Africa," "Darkness" or "Safari" in the title happens to be the first rule of writing about Africa. Literally.

Among the other rules:

* Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize.

* In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates.

* You'll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.

* Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.

There might be a touch of sarcasm in this piece. Maybe. Judge for yourself here.