Our New Friend

I was given Archie’s phone number as the recommended cab driver to use whenever I needed to get around the city after dark. When I received this number, I did not realize that I was gaining a friend and confidant in a fifty-something year old taxi cab driver. Archie spends his days as a paramedic and his nights as a taxi cab driver. He has experienced hardship and heartache, but welcomes each day and night with a smile and a song. The first experience we had with Archie was a magical experience because we all were singing songs that were familiar to us while the opened windows allowed for the wind to blow back our hair as the ocean smell filled our scenes. The song that danced through the speakers was ‘I Kissed A Girl’ by Katy Perry and Archie’s voice sang above the others. Even though he was incredibly off tune, he showed no care in the world as he smiled and laughed with these American strangers.
As we experienced another night with Archie, the singing stayed the same, but his easy personality allowed for an easy flow of conversation. His welcoming tone gave way to a comfortable atmosphere in this foreign town. The music was playing, but there was more conversation about life and relationships. There was sharing on both sides, but what I enjoyed learning about the most was his childhood. He was born in District 6, the integrated neighbor that was broken apart by the white government in order to turn District 6 into a white only homestead. He spoke of his life in District 6 and his life as he and his family moved out of the neighborhood before the government forced them. He told us that his father caught wind of what was to happen to their beloved neighborhood, so they moved by their own will. This foresight of District 6 was very insightful because the next day I took a day trip to the District 6 museum with a group of friends. It is a small building, situated not far from the late neighborhood. The building comprised of a map on the floor that allowed for the previous residents of District 6 to locate their old home and to stamp their mark on such a historical time during apartheid. The man who gave us a tour of the building was born in District 6 and bore the pain of watching as the swift movement of a bulldozer destroyed his house. He was a man of Indian descent; therefore he was classified as a coloured man. He spoke of the spirit of the neighborhood with such vigor as if he was still there, walking through the streets and greeting men and women of all different colors. This harmonious way of living was broken up because the white government was nervous for its own well-being. Therefore, in the 1970s, the government moved all of the coloured people to the colorued townships and all of the blacks to their respected black townships. All this time I was thinking about Archie, the coloured man I had befriended the night before and wondered if he had the same experience as this man standing before me.
On a lighter note, District 6 is in the process of being restored as the neighborhood that it was once remembered by. Our tour guide plans on moving back and the excitement in his face and the sparkle in his eyes illustrated the regained hope of this country that is working hard to dig itself out of the hole of racism and separation. But even though this beautifully diverse country is working out is societal kinks, there are still little reminders of separation. For example, for the duration of the train ride, I was in third class. Third class in for blacks because the tickets are cheaper. First class is predominantly white. When I told my host brother (I am living with a white South African family) that I rode third class, he looked at me in a quizzical manner and asked why I rode third class. I found his question incredibly interesting and this question is a clear example of the fact that there is still separation. I am not saying that my host brother is racist by any means, but since he grew up in a time where blacks, whites, and colours were separated, there are still small traces of that mind set even though it might not be perceived as such by a South African.
This country has gone through many changes in the past decade, but each day I am learning that the charm of this town is so much more than the looming mountain or the aqua beaches, but the people. It is easy to strike up a conversation with an African and they have so much to share and to ask. The people of South Africa have seen pain, separation, and violence, but they have so much hope for the future. That is the beautiful and breathtaking characteristic of this country, the hope in everyone’s heart.
News Update- I have a flip flop tan!!!!!