A Note on Security

When I told people that I was going to South Africa, the first reaction of most was, “Be careful. No seriously, be careful.” With some of the highest rape and homicide rates in the world, this advice is certainly warranted and I expected to see cities that were run-down and forgotten much like places in the States that have high crime rates. I was expecting to see signs of insecurity. What I wasn’t expecting was a totally different conception of security.

Immediately upon entering a South African city, you notice fences and walls that we only see to keep inmates in prisons. Each house, business, and office that has enough money has a 10 foot wall or gate topped off with barbed wire or jagged spikes in addition to bars on the ground floor windows. Most of these gates have a pass code and, if the owners are affluent enough, a security guard and/or security camera. A large parking lot without a security guard probably means that you don’t want to leave your car, let alone frequent the business.

What is striking (besides the amazing ability of South Africans to make barbed wire and barred windows aesthetically appealing) is the simple fact that security here means keeping others out while in the States, security is intended to keep your assets in. We build fences to make sure our dogs don’t run away and occasionally to tell a neighbor what land is ours. So as you picture me frolicking in Durban, feel comforted (?) by the knowledge that security here is not a passive statement of ‘this is mine’ but the aggressive stance that ‘this isn’t yours’.

Greetings from Africa!

Well at long last I am settled down in Johannesburg and just enough of an insomniac (I've been awake since a phone went off at 4:30) to be able to monopolize the hostel computer for long enough to blog. The plane trip went off without a hitch and I managed to make friends with my Senegalese seat mate Gaba who showed me the joys of the little TV screens before MaryBeth hooked me up with some Dramamine for the second leg of the journey. All in all, my day of travel was 29 hours long (9 of these were spent waiting at JFK and one waiting on the runway in Dakar) and needless to say we all were excited for bed that night.

This week is orientation/tourist fun so yesterday we went to Soweto, the Joburg township whose claim to fame is the early homes of Mandela, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and a host of other apartheid resisters. We are in Johannesburg today as well and then will move to Durban, meeting our Cato Manor host families on Tuesday night (?). I'm excited to meet Mz. Lucy whose last name is escaping me and whose 11 year old grandaughter is also in the house.

So far, I have been bouncing between amazement at the beautiful scenery and weather and sadness at the degredation done to the land by apartheid. All 21 other girls and our program staff are fantastic so far. I give the drama another 3 weeks.