DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

On Friday, we arrived in Durban, a coastal city located to the northeast of Cape Town in the province of Kwazulu Natal. Immediately, I sensed that our experience here would be both refreshing and challenging at the same time. Stepping off the plane into the brilliant sunshine and 75 degree heat felt like something more appropriate for a family vacation than for an educational foray to this near-tropical area. Yet, as I glanced around me to get a sense of the city, particularly its racial composition (it is important to note that this constant preoccupation with racial dynamics is a truly foreign perception of South Africa), I remembered the true purpose of our trip- to gain more valuable insight into a variety of perspectives on the anti-apartheid struggle.

Still, Friday was about taking the time to actually appreciate the exotic beauty of this breathtaking country. As we ventured down to the expansive beach, I took in the sight of massive waves pounding the shoreline. In minutes, I dove into the ocean to swim in what felt like incredibly turbulent bathwater with a frightening undertow. At that moment, I felt alive, refreshed, and renewed. Now, I am once again ready to learn and to absorb as many shocking and inspiring accounts of the anti-apartheid struggle as I can.  
 

On Saturday night, our group joined a local family for dinner in Pietermaritzburg, the capital of the Kwazulu Natal province. Our generous host was Jabulani, a professor of history and a former ANC political activist who offered to share with us the story of his experiences during the anti-apartheid struggle. Thus, I expected a rather academic evening with lots of talk about racial politics and other such complicated issues.

However, I was taken completely by surprise when I walked through Jabulani’s front door only to hear the familiar sound of Michael Jackson blaring from the living room. Surely enough, Jabulani’s children stood poised before the television, totally engrossed by an MTV tribute to the late pop culture icon. And much to my surprise, they knew his lyrics and his captivating dance steps better than I do!

Before long, rather than having yet another intense, serious discussion, the entire lot of us began to dance like one large family together in front of the television. Singing along to songs that I hadn’t heard in years, I realized that this experience right here encapsulated the most important lesson of all: we are all people united by a single human spirit. Ultimately, our celebration was not just a stunning tribute to Michael Jackson; it was indisputable proof that people from various places and backgrounds can truly come together as human beings regardless of these differences.
 

    On Saturday, we traveled to Robben Island to visit the infamous prison where Nelson Mandela was held for 18 years. Of all the sights that we saw on the island, including Mandela’s prison cell, I found the lime quarry most impressive. It was here that prisoners performed grueling forced labor and suffered severe retinal deterioration due to the scorching sunlight. But more importantly, the shallow cave at the back of the quarry became the site of secret, brief political meetings, which would eventually shape the process of transition from the apartheid regime to a multiracial government. The enormity of what took place amidst such resolve-breaking conditions helped me to better understand just how resilient Mandela and the others remained throughout their imprisonment.
   

     Another striking aspect of my Robben Island experience was my difficulty grasping just how recently its prison was in full operational use. Often, visits to historical landmarks include interactions with paid actors pretending to live during that period and sharing their “experiences” (the “Pilgrims” at Plymouth Plantation come to mind). But on Robben Island, our tour guide was an actual political PRISONER finally released in 1992. He is a survivor of apartheid oppression, and his stories are real experiences that he generously chooses to share with tour groups. Constantly, I have to remind myself that the horrors of apartheid existed during my lifetime. Its survivors walk among us now. I am thankful that I am beginning to understand the freshness of these wounds. 

 

This week, I began my work at the Black Sash, a prominent NGO focused on achieving the realization of human rights as promised by the extraordinarily progressive South African Constitution. For now, it seems that my days will consist mainly of policy research, archival work, and logistical coordination for upcoming conferences. The most interesting aspect of my time here so far has been the informal conversations with my employer and coworkers. For example, while I was sorting through piles of old historical documents in storage at the Black Sash, I spoke with one woman about her experience as a young Indian girl growing up in a rural community outside of Durban. She candidly explained that as a child, race in her community (even under the stringent segregation of the apartheid regime) was a non-issue. Although she was Indian, she played frequently with children of all colors because they all shared the common background of a rural upbringing. When she married her husband and moved to Cape Town for his work as a structural engineer, however, this young woman was immediately struck by the blatant racial divisions readily apparent in the urban setting. She explained that under apartheid, non-whites had been removed from the city’s interior and that the residual tension of this removal was still palpable, even 15 years after the end of legal segregation. Ultimately, she concluded that she frequently can’t relate to many of the stories that her peers tell of the humiliations of discrimination because she herself simply does not have such memories or experiences to draw from.
 This story reminded me that even when people have experiences different than those of the general collective, those stories are still valid and actually vital to gaining a more complete understanding of a situation. One thing that has confronted me here is the idea that some people have a better understanding of the world than others, that some people’s ideas are more relevant or legitimate. This is not at all true. The minute we dismiss alternative views, we lose the opportunity to enrich our own perspectives and to learn from each other. I am excited to learn from the experiences of my coworkers in the coming weeks and to allow their stories to enrich my grasp of the world.