There is just something so unbelievably special about the township that does not exist anywhere else in the world. Albert and I sort of live a double life because we actually live in upper class white neighborhoods and interact with the upper class at restaurants and malls, but we spend all day working with the coaches and in the townships; something that most white South Africans never do. Saturday night we decided to go out in Roodepan (another section of the township) with two of the coaches to watch the Kaiser Chiefs play the Orlando Pirates. These are two Johannesburg national teams. Going out there I sort of knew that I would be the only white girl and that I would in some ways have to keep my guard up and be very aware of what was going on around me at all times. I just know that anytime you start to fully let your guard down something bad can happen. This is not just for life over here, but anywhere; it is always necessary to be aware of your surroundings and have a plan in case something starts to become dangerous or questionable. So before we left the house I ran through some ground rules with Albert, like that he couldn’t just disappear and leave me alone without first checking to make sure that I was comfortable or that the coaches were around. Sometimes in traveling situations I hate being a little white girl, because sometimes I feel like I am being paranoid, but I also know what can happen if you are not prepared.
We went out with Mzala and Casper (or Casavin, they call him Casper because he has such light colored skin). At first we thought that Mzala and Casper were the same age because they are always together and looked to be about the same age. I already knew that Casper was 22, so I just assumed that Mzala was somewhere in his early 20s as well. However, yesterday he told us that he is 30 and I could not believe it. He told us that he raised Casper and groomed him into the soccer player he is today. I started to look closer to see if there were any giveaways of Mzala’s age, but other than the fact that he has a few more scars than Casper, he still did not look 30 to me. Albert wondered if the scars were maybe a good indication of age, that maybe by every five years someone would have a few more scars, but at this point we have no conclusive evidence to support that idea. Scars could just say something about the person and there behavior as opposed to it being an age thing.
I cannot tell you how many times Mzala tried to warn us about where we were going and how many times he checked in on us while we were there. He continually told us that next time we can go out somewhere in Kim and was profusely apologizing for the venue, but I don’t think he understood that it was so much fun and such a nice breath of fresh air. We have gone out to a bar in Kimberley a few times and we never really had that great of a time, but the other night in the township we had a blast. I would choose going out there any day over the Halfway House. At the Half we have tried to talk to people, we have played pool to try to make friends, and we have gotten nowhere, but after the one night in Roodepan, we have a plethora of new friends. Of course, part of that may have to do with the novelty that we are white. I think Mzala was also slightly stressed out by the fact that I wasn’t drinking and didn’t know how to handle it, because he kept asking me if he could get me anything and he eventually told me that he felt bad that I wasn’t drinking anything. Trust me I was perfectly fine.
We walked in and all eyes were on us. I really did not know what to expect when we were heading out there, but it was perfect. Walking in my smile just grew and grew; it was awesome. We walked into the first room and there was a DJ and a bunch of people dancing, we walked into the next room and there was a bar and in the following room there were pool tables and a TV for watching the game. Something that Albert noticed, for some reason I didn’t even really think about it, was that steel bars separated the people serving drinks and the people ordering. Yesterday Thembi told us that is for when people start getting really drunk, rowdy and potentially violent. Albert and I took our seats on the side of plastic drink cartoons in the sea of black guys. A couple of guys told me I could sit on their laps; I graciously declined. Not only was I the only white girl in the entire place, but I was also the only girl watching the game. Very quickly Albert and I were forced to pick teams and since Albert choose to be for the Pirates with Mzala, I agreed to be for the Chiefs with Mzala’s friend Bailey. Bailey then proceeded to give me his jersey after I told him repeatedly that it was not necessary. I gave it back to him after a few minutes and he put it back on. We watched the game on this small TV that also sat in its own cage, which protected it. We could have watched the game in the Halfway House on huge flat screen, but what fun would that of been; there is no atmosphere there in comparison to this bar.
At half-time I accompanied Mzala into the room with the bar and he introduced me to a girl that was Graham’s “baby’s mama.” That is exactly how she was introduced to me. Graham is another coach that we work with. This is probably another discussion for another time, but I cannot believe how many people have children out of wedlock here. It doesn’t bother me at all; its kind of an interesting part of life here, but it would so taboo at home. I then joined Albert on the dance floor for a few minutes before we went back to watch the game. Another thing we picked up on during the second half of the game was how close guys are here. They are not gay at all, but they cuddle and snuggle and hold hands with each other. It’s sweet, but again just something that you would never ever see at home. After the game we played some pool and went back to dancing for a while. After about 45 minutes of dancing with all different types of people, the dance turn into somewhat of a disagreement over who was going to dance with me. I was dancing with a lady who was somewhere in the range of 60-80 years old and she was killing it. She could definitely still move it and shake it; I loved dancing with her. The problem arose when all of a sudden there were 15 people grabbing my arms and pulling me in four different directions because they all wanted to dance with me. I’m a white girl, what can I say?
For anyone who has travelled in the developing world, you can relate to this situation. Anytime you give one person a little of something, they all want it, then they all want more, and it is just the way that it is. It is not their fault; they just have never had certain things so when they are given one they immediately assume they can have more. That is a big reason why when you are travelling you have to be careful not to give things away, money, pencils, presents of any sort; they really need to be earned or they will not learn that you have to work for what you are given. After trying to fight everyone off for a few minutes, I decided this was our cue to leave, mainly because I didn’t want it to turn into any bigger of a problem. I also wasn’t really having fun dancing anymore since I had just become a puppet. Controlled and manipulated. I felt like an object; no one asked me who I wanted to dance with or what I wanted to do, they were just deciding amongst themselves. At that point I found Albert and Mzala and they escorted me out of there. I would never for ten seconds say that the evening was ruined; I had a wonderful time and it was so nice for people to in a sense accept us. Although I am still not sure if they accepted us or if they were just making fun of us, but either way it was a fantastic evening and a real chance to be a part of a world so foreign to us.
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