The end of the road

No matter how long you spend in any place, at the end you always run out of time. This was the case for my three-month stay in Cape Town. The last two weeks were an absolute whirlwind of activity. During that time I managed to cross some major goals off of my list. To begin with I finally managed to go into the Kyalitsha Township with Debbie Goetz. Debbie is a friend from camp who started a women’s support group in the township years ago. She used her nanny as her resource, as her nanny lives there and managed to make many friends and contacts. People that she regularly goes to visit. So I went along for one such trip and was absolutely blown away. When you drive along the highway, Kyalitsha appears as a massive, sprawling squatter camp of tin shacks. But inside it is a real community. Compared to the rest of gated Cape Town, Kyalitsha is the only place that one is guaranteed know their neighbors. Children play in the streets and everywhere was the sound of music and laughter. We visited on a Sunday and it was wonderful to see everyone dressed in their church best. We met several of Debbie’s friends, but one stood out to me in particular. Vivian is both street smart and has a university education. She has opened an orphanage and runs a soup kitchen that feeds over 250 people daily. By working with a private Swedish donor she has even managed to expand her project and renovate her home to include space for more children. She is incredibly warm and is definitely a go to person for anyone wishing to volunteer in the township. Her organization’s webpage is now a link.


Vivian outside her house


Sunday best


a child playing in the sand

Another thing on my list to do was hike up Lion’s Head Mountain. Jon and I had to make two attempts at this. The first time we tried we had to turn back as we started too late in the evening and it was getting dark. So we went again a few days later and it was absolute madness. It was the day after the lunar eclipse and so the mountain was popping with people waiting to see the moon rise. Everyone and their dog were there and I even saw one of my campers. Not wanting to get caught in the dark, we descended shortly after we hit the peak only to meet serious traffic. As we were coming down, hordes were still going up! Indeed you could see torches on the mountain well into the night. What a scene!


on top of Cape Town


Jon and myself at the top


Table Mountain in the back


re-fuelling

And finally, on the Monday, two days before I left I went with my granny to Robben Island. This is where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were oppressed during the fight to end apartheid. It was a fascinating tour and I only wished for more time in the prison to look at the artifacts and hear stories from our guide, who had himself been a prisoner there. He told us some shocking stories of injustice. For instance when his own father had asked to come visit him, the wardens went to the father’s house and shot him eight times; all for the non-existent crime of wanting to visit his own son. They deemed this ‘fraternizing with a terrorist’ and have not been reprimanded for this crime up to this day. They remain successful businessmen while our tour leader’s father was in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.


the lime quarry where Mandela worked


Mandela's cell

In the end it was difficult to say goodbye to the many friends I had made. I hosted a farewell tea to do so and am certain that I will be back in Cape Town sometime soon. Certainly sooner than the eight years between this visit and my last one!


farewell tea


Goodbye!