Day 66: Imizamo Yethu Township Tour
We did a relaxed morning of school at home before setting out for an Airbnb Experience we’d booked online — a tour with a local of the Imizamo Yethu township near Hout Bay.
We drove and parked at the police station on the outskirts of town (that was the instruction), and met up with our group — four Germans and a Swedish couple with an adorable 10-month-old baby names Ines. Our host was Mhinti (pronounced Minty), a resident of the township and co-founder of a church-based organization that supports primary-aged kids. Her end-game, like a lot of Airbnb experiences, is to raise awareness of her own organization — but she creates an authentic experience around it to so everyone wins. Works for us.
In this case, the experience included visiting a lot of local businesses, greeting people in the street, wandering around, etc. Things a more intrepid tourist might just do on her own. We were happy to be walking around with Mhinti, who seemed to know everyone in town.
This township is slightly different from others. Whereas long-established South African townships are more like low-income suburbs, we’re told, this one felt a little newer — lots of new one-story government-built houses in the center and paved roads. As you reach the outskirts, though, there are hundreds (thousands?) of metal shacks that have organically sprung up without plumbing or electricity.
Its proximity to Hout Bay makes it one of the more “prosperous” townships in the Cape Town area. According to Mhinti there are a lot of immigrants living there, too — mainly Zimbabweans.
First stop was a shebeen aka a pub/tavern. Mhinti knew the owner so we popped in, small kids and baby. It was a cement block building with a pool table inside, loud music playing, local guys drinking Budweiser… Some tipsy guys saw Willa and James and wanted to show us pics on their phones of their own kids of similar ages. We didn’t stick around for a beer, even though some of us wanted to. Church-going Mhinti kept us on a strict schedule.
From there we visited a community center where some local folks were offering keychains, homemade clothes, necklaces made out of cereal boxes and some other stuff. The building served as an after-school center and general gathering place, so we ended up hanging out and meeting some local kids and chatting with folks.
Next we met a volunteer safety patrol group — 150 guys with day jobs who give their free time to making the community more safe. They tamp crime down, but also keep misbehaving boys and girls in school. If a parent comes to them describing problems back home, these guys’ll take the child on as their responsibility — requiring them to sign in and out of school with them every day, checking in on their progress with the teacher, walking them to and from school, and coming by around 7 pm to see if they’re home/have done their homework.
As we were walking out, a 4th grade-ish boy in a uniform was stopping by after school to sign his name in the book…
We visited Mhinti’s school property, and then went to Mama Miriam’s B&B — the home of a local grandma named Miriam who runs a longtime B&B out of her home. She is available on Airbnb.
Her home was tiny but spotless. We sat at patio furniture tables in her living room and ate chicken on the bone, spinach greens, a tomato/bean side call Chakalaka and a grits-like side too. When paired with Coca Cola to drink, couldn’t help but notice how similar southern American comfort food was. It was all delicious and indeed comforting.
Mama Miriam dished everything out for us from her kitchen. She was a loving mama bear, and we felt so welcome.
After that we wandered back down the steep hill toward our car, passing a market of sheeps’ heads and entrails, plus some kids James’s age doing 35 on a plastic toy car downhill.
When we returned home that evening there was an orange cat in our backyard. Willa and James were obsessed with it — but too scared to go outside. For them cats are like wild animals to be observed in a zoo — potentially dangerous, totally mysterious. So they peered out our window for a while til it ran off.
Observations
We’d been wondering with all the crazy wind how any homemade shack stayed intact, and we were able to see for ourselves: On top of the corrugated metal roofs lie giant rocks, heavy tires and other heavy materials to keep things from blowing away. Got it.
Another thought: There were SO MANY CUTE KIDS in the township and so many adorable interactions. Several different times, groups of 4 and 5-year-old kids would run up to Teddy and bear hug his legs. Randomly, right there in the street. It was surprising and heart-warming. I wanted to take pics but didn’t. Felt icky so we’ll make do with memories. Really cute ones.
Still more: We’ve picked up on a trend this year. Our children gravitate toward black mother/grandmother figures. We’ve seen it again and again: If we encounter such a woman — usually someone with a big heart and big bosom — we’ll turn around and see our kids literally snuggled all up on them, hugging and cuddling. Total strangers/very new friends. It has happened so much (today of course it was Mhinti and Mama Miriam). And we’re assuming it’s the Didi Effect.
We’ve anointed Teddy with a new, special nickname: Guzzle Boy. He earned it because he requires constant water drinking. No water bottle on hand? BIG problem. It makes us laugh so hard. Now he calls himself Guzzle Boy in the third person, like, “Guzzle Boy’s thirsty, I need to stop for some water.” It also applies to food, since Teddy eats a lot. Guzzle Boy.
