Dancing in the Streets

Before I get started, go ahead and glance to your right a little bit. On the computer screen, I mean. You see that little bit under ‘Disclaimer’? The one that mentions nobody and nothing is responsible for the things written here except for me – including the US Government, the South African Government, Amelia Earhart, etc…etc…? Yes. That. It still holds.

So, that said, I’ve been getting some concerned emails and phone calls lately. Ones that usually begin, “Um, Becca I’ve been reading the news about Africa, and…” First, let me say: mad props for overcoming the California public school education we all enjoyed and showing an interest in world events. Second:

I’m Fine

There have been a series of attacks against foreigners and immigrants in South Africa lately. ‘Xenophobic violence’ is the preferred term in the news, though I’ve heard some shriller voices screaming “Ethnic cleansing!! Genocide!!” (Today one lady in the paper compared things here to Hitler’s death camps in Poland, to which I can only respond, “…seriously?”). Nobody seems to be entirely sure what the flashpoint was, but in the past couple of months there have been violent and horrific attacks against immigrants – legal and otherwise – in townships mostly surrounding Johannesburg, though it seems that the wave has begun to grow, and recently as far away as Cape Town there have been attacks as well. It’s not pretty. Mobs will attack an entire family of immigrants from Zimbabwe, Malawi, Nigeria, or wherever else in Africa*, screaming that they are stealing jobs and resources from the South Africans who deserve them. Homes are destroyed, possessions are stolen. People have been set on fire and burnt to death while crowds point and laugh. Neighboring African governments are setting up evacuation points to get their people back home, thousands and tens of thousands have already been bussed out. Humanitarian organizations are setting up “displacement areas” which the South African government is being very, very careful not to call refugee camps. Refugee camps don’t happen in South Africa, you see. This is the country that’s got it together.

On the whole, that’s pretty much true, too. While they are horrific, and I’m in no way downplaying the sheer…evil it takes to destroy another human’s beings life just because they’re different, all of these attacks have been pretty isolated. Mbeki has called out the army, and some places are attempting to declare a state of emergency, but…the country keeps going. My village is full of immigrants from Mozambique, and last I checked nobody was picking up any rocks, pitchforks, or torches. They may be immigrants, but their neighbors and friends first. This is no threat to permanent security or safety or the economy. School keeps happening. Think of it as Hurricane Katrina in the US – or maybe more accurately, the LA riots (or any other riot you prefer). A serious temporary breakdown of conventional order and security, but more or less localized and the country isn’t going anywhere.

What it does seem to reveal – to me at least – is a serious undercurrent of anger in South Africa that needs to be dealt with. People point out that this is the first time since Apartheid that the army has been sent into the townships, and the ANC’s call then was “Make the Townships Ungovernable!” Was there ever a call to make them governable again? When the mission was accomplished and Mandela ran the country and Tutu ran the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, who walked through the townships and helped people to put their anger away? What happened to all the anger, frustration, and hatred that was stirred up (in some cases legitimately, in others less so)? It didn’t just go away. I think that people have been so busy, so desperate, branding the New South Africa, the Rainbow Nation, that some steps have been left behind.

There is so much anger in this country, and it lies under such a thin and stretched-taut skin. Did you know that there are more violent deaths per capita in South Africa than Afghanistan?** People are angry, and legitimately so, I would never say that it is wrong or misplaced – the rug has been yanked out from too many people too many times. A lot of promises have been made and not kept. This country is so beautiful, and so complex – I have never lived in such a complicated place. To think about the contrasts and potentials and tragedies here all swirling around together is enough to make your head explode. It’s difficult to hold it all together inside of you at once. So you pick and choose the pieces you can handle, when you can handle them. But sometimes the pieces you’re so busy not handling are the pieces that are getting ready to explode.

*To re-iterate, Mom, immigrants from AFRICA. Nobody is after Americans. I’M FINE.

**Sorry, Mom. Wasn’t planning to tell you that until November. But: I’M FINE.