Saturday: Reflections of my homestay in the Tambo Village in Gugulethu Township of Capetown, South Africa

 
I never quite knew what it was like to be “Coloured.”  The first time I heard it was during Mama Titi's introduction. The word did not register in my mind. The second time, I paused the conversation and asked how I would be classified. For the first time in my life, I wasn't “Black.”

I never knew there was a difference. In the United States, there were mostly two denominations: Whites and Blacks. But I soon found that as a Filipino, Native and African-American woman of a caramel hue, I was no longer any of the above, but rather “Coloured.” Coloured people were different, Mama Titi explained to me that night during my homestay. They didn't know the struggles of Black people, she continued. They weren't white--where they could walk around freely, do as they wanted, or avoid some of the ridicule and outward racisms--they had an easier life because many were a mixture of White and Black.

Mama Titi told me that being Black was not something they were proud of growing up. The treatment for Blacks was so bad that Coloureds did whatever they felt necessary to distinguish themselves and thus made the wedge deeper. While she nodded and seemed to listen to my discourse about the similar, but different issue of slavery and segregation in the U.S. where Coloureds and Blacks were one in the same, I could see that after so many years of such a division and her brutal experiences as a Black in South Africa, it was difficult for her to fathom or be as empathetic for “Coloureds.”

We moved on and spoke about the issue of education. There were schools for Whites, Coloureds and Blacks. Her mother was fair-skinned and was able to get her children through “Coloured” schools as opposed to Black ones. I told her about the similar issue in the U. S. where schools were once segregated based on the dichotomous thinking of the nation: White schools and Black schools. But Black schools in South Africa were useless because they were of poor quality, Mama Titi kept reiterating. This I could easily grasp. It made sense that those who were oppressed would have limited access and what was designated would not be as substantial.

Mama Titi said that as she got older, she got darker and began receiving the treatment that other Blacks faced. But shockingly, her feelings of hatred and resentment towards those who killed her brother during Apartheid were recently removed. ? In silence, I listened to her speak about how difficult it was for her to move forward emotionally, physically, and spiritually until she forgave. She admitted that there was a time when she never thought she could accept a White or Colored in her home. Prior to my visit, she had another student of European descent. She gushed about the experience and I sat in awe.

To further demonstrate the existing inequalities and disparities, even though Apartheid has officially ended, she sent me to the store with her daughter-in-law, Tumi. I asked Tumi who was born in 1988, if she had any experience with racism. She admitted that it was hard being Black due to the names she was called. She also said she was still searching for a job since she wasn't in school. Mostly Coloreds had the good ones, she said.

As we crossed the grassy median, Tumi pointed out the areas where Blacks lived. The house where she and Mama Titi lived was one of many in what she said was a Black section. I asked her where did the whites live and she started laughing. They lived far from this particular area, she said. The store we were heading to was owned by a “Coloured” and on this side was where the majority of “Coloureds” lived.

As we walked up to the barred window to order what was needed, I suddenly felt nervous. I could feel the curious stares and I wasn't sure how I was being received. I was relieved when we left and I wasn't quite sure why. Did people automatically assume I was Black? Coloured? Were those who were foreigners automatically classified as well? One thing was clear: while the “Coloureds” and Blacks were friendlier now, the tension still remained because Tumi mumbled a few things under her breath as we crossed.

Even after my departure from Mama Titi, Tumi, and the village where they lived, I have had the hardest time comprehending this. I truly couldn't wrap my mind around it. Why, in every civilization, did someone have to be inferior? I didn't understand why classifying people by the color of their skin served as a common grouping strategy in recent and ancient history.  

Furthermore, why “White” seemed to be the universal interpretation of being superior in many cases shocked me. It grieved me to think that the South African Coloureds and Blacks have the relationship that they do, while they would all be oppressed in U.S. American history.  It was another indication of how easy it can be to destroy people's minds and make them hate themselves for things over which they have no control (i.e. skin color).  So many questions arose from this overnight South African stay. I know there can never be a suitable answer to explain such racial injustices, but incredibly resilient and courageous women like Mama Titi have resulted from such difficulty.

--A few other comments:
I had a very detailed account of what happened but I don't know where it is or what happened. Could be in my notebook, either way, I don't have the strength to type it all up again so tough bazookies. Jut fast forwarding... There were originally 30 SAS students signed up (two per household), but only 27 showed up. I had the option of being the 3rd "child" at a house with two other SAS'ers or go alone to one house. I opted to go alone. WHat better way to learn then to leap in 100% uncomfortable, stripped of ability to hide behind anyone else... great for impact.  Mama Titi and I had a great discussion about religion, church and forgiveness. It was a sincere, honest conversation that I felt myself choking up. Anyone who knows me, knows of my deep religious background and the state of my beliefs today. She was very wise in that she knew just what to say, how to say it. I sat in the kitchen watching her make Pap, Chicken, Potatoes and vegetables. The other cool thing was the joyous celebration dvd playing in the living room. It was so refreshing just to hear gospel music again. I don't know it was just comforting. We prayed before eating dinner. Funny interjection: we watched America's got talent and 40 year old virgin on tv hahahaha. Oh and I need to get into soccer or “futbol” and cricket. It was a big deal in Brazil...and in South Africa people looked at me like I was nuts for not knowing players and stuff. Then after talking to Tumi about guys and her whole situation about her daughter (Nladte)'s father, Mama Titi came back out and we prayed but first she asked that I lead them into a song. “Amazing Grace” was the only song I thought we all would know lol, went with that one. Immediately after the temperature seem to change and there was this seriousness. Mama Titi started speaking Xhosi  and Tumi was speaking Suti. Nladte was conveniently sleeping. Again, this huge grin was on my face just the fact that I was praying, something I was conditioned or used to doing at certain times back in the day with my parents. But the fact that I was in the house of virtual strangers in South freaking Africa, praying and partaking in this moment was totally unreal. Then the smile gave way to tears because suddenly I was aware of the magnitude of this experience and very grateful. After a stretch of 10 or so minutes, Mama Titi said some words and then she shook my hand, hugged me and said “God Bless you,” Tumi did the same. That night I slept in peace completely unperturbed by anything in my life.

Sunday:
Woke up around 8ish am because we had to be back at Mama Knox's by 9 pm and head back to the ship. I really wanted to stay and go to church with Mama Titi but eh, duty called. She made "porridge" or what was oatmeal for breakfast. Nladte was soo excited to see me. Tumi said that she jolted out of bed and started crying when she didn't see me. That was cute but I'm thinking bout her cry hahaha...poor Mama Titi and Tumi. She was crying when I really had to leave. Mama Titi told me to definittely come back which I intend on doing...she also said that previous SAS'ers stay with her when they do and extended the offer. =)