The Most Beautiful Place in the World?
Nestled in between the sea front and Table Top mountain, Mouille Point is truly beautiful and picturesque. It’s equipped with gleaming counter-tops, wide floor length windows, luxury showers, and a balcony to enjoy the view – it’s a nicer apartment than I will be able to afford for another ten years after graduating college. I feel spoiled, and I have to remind myself that the rent is cheaper than my cramped rundown Boston apartment.
Every morning I get to wake up and look out at rows and rows of houses lining the mountain across from us, painted in a deep pink as they reflect the sunrise. At almost all hours, the boardwalk across from us is filled with runners getting in their daily workout. The two restaurants nearest to us, Quaglino’s and Sotano’s, are almost always filled with Northeastern students enjoying lattes and taking advantage of the rare WiFi connection. As we walk to our afternoon reflection sessions we have a clear view of the gigantic stadium built to host the World Cup in 2012.
While we live in luxury in one of the safest areas of Cape Town, the majority of our TSiBA peers reside in townships. There’s a stark dichotomy there, as we try to foster cultural exchange and get to know the local communities we are working with when it is so hard to understand what those students have overcome for their education. One of the first excursions we went on as a group was to the Langa township. For many on the tour, this was our first experience with extreme poverty.
Cape Town has been described as both the most beautiful and also the ugliest place in the world, and it was important that we saw both sides. Our classmates are part of the Born Free generation, those born after Apartheid was dismantled and Nelson Mandela was voted the first black president of South Africa. Theirs was the generation promised unlimited opportunities and freedom, but the reality of the situation was that vast improvements needed to be made regarding quality of life (food, water, shelter), employment, and racism. Our task was to help find innovative solutions to these issues within the townships we visited.
Langa was brimming with activity. Brave souls on our trip lined up to try Smileys, a famous treat comprised of a sheep’s head smoked over an open flame. Children were weaving in and out of the road, and old men gathered in their shacks sitting by the fire. We visited a hostel, where three families occupy a single room and the young children of all of the families sleep in the “living room” space. We toured an orphanage where the girls passionately danced and played drums for us. The poverty, sanitation issues, and lack of infrastructure was all around us, but the residents of Langa were outwardly happy. As a TSiBA student told me, “when Africans are happy, we sing. When we’re sad or angry, we sing.” This was evident throughout the people I met, and it forces me to consider my privilege and where I get my joy from.
