Small Spec

Around 6:30pm on the second day in Cape Town my friends Jenny, Julie, Charlene, Jessie, Katie and I departed an overnight at a small B&B in one of the townships. Six naive American girls, we had no idea what to expect. We were all so excited and chatty as we made our way out of the city, but as soon as we started to drive into Khayelitsha Township, a complete hush settled over the car. Everyone was just silent, as we got our first glimpse of the real Cape Town. There were shacks made of scrap metal and cardboard as far as the eye could see, and they looked like they could collapse at any second. There were several simple signs that pointed to Vicky’s B&B as we made the narrow turns deeper and deeper into world of seemingly endless poverty. We arrived at a yellow shack (I hate this word, and wish there was another way to explain it, but it is the best way that I know to explain what it looked like) with colorful letters welcoming us to Vicky’s.
Since coming back to the ship and hearing about everyone’s township experiences, I realize even more what a blessing my experience was. The moment we walked in, we were mobbed by little kids! Vicky is taking care of seven kids ranging in age from one to twenty-one. Five are her own, and two are her sister’s who passed away from AIDS six months ago. They wanted to sing songs with us, brush our hair, practice their English, so they would make lists for us to fill in our information. Interestingly, after asking our name, surname, age, and birthday, the next questions were if we had a boyfriend, and if we had a baby.

Vicky’s two oldest daughters cooked us a dinner of lamb, rice, beans, and of course some coca-cola. (It is interesting to see the effects of globalization in the townships. Coca-Cola will provided establishments and streets with free signs, as long as half of the sign has the Coke logo.)

After dinner we had a chance to sit down with Vicky and ask her about her now very successful business. She actually only started it seven years ago, because she wanted to do something, and didn’t just want to open a bar or a restaurant. People told her she was crazy for wanting to start a B&B, because no one would ever want to come and spend a night in Khayelitsha. She also wanted to bring tourism into the townships, to give people a look at what life is really like on a daily basis. So many people just look at the countless shanties as they pass by in a cab from the airport, and would never even think of purposely stopping at one. The small amount of tourists that do make the decision to go, usually end up with a huge tour group and they never even got off the bus. Slowly Vicky built up her business with the help of her family, and now the entire living room is covered in newspaper clippings featuring her establishment. She has even inspired five other women to open their homes to visitors.

It really touched me when she said that she didn’t want people to come just to see the immense poverty in the townships, she wanted them to come inside and find a home, not a shack. And I certainly felt that! I was surprised at my comfort level inside Vicky’s. Before departing from the ship, they warned about the danger of the townships, and how it was very unsafe to go in independently. For once, I have never been so happy that I didn’t follow the rules. I felt very safe, and I really don’t think it was a false sense of security. When we walked around, we were local people, and everyone around us was extremely welcoming and friendly. Lying in bed that night, listening to the sound of pouring rain pounding on the roof was one of those times when I was able to feel and appreciate the full scope of where I was and what I was doing. I was on the continent of Africa, in the country of South Africa. I was near the tip of the county, in the city of Cape Town, and I was sleeping in one little shanty house in the middle of Khayelitsha with 1.3 million other people. It was a very humbling moment, to feel so small, just a little speck in this gigantic world.