Day 68: Robben Island and…a Babysitter!!!!!!!!!!
Robben Island is the prison island where Mandela and other political anti-apartheid activists were imprisoned. Mandela spent a total of 27 years behind bars — and 18 of them were at the Robben Island prison.
Teddy and I decided that Willa and I would go, and if we felt like it was a can’t-miss for Teddy, that he’d return with his mom when she comes to visit in April.
James would just disrupt the experience for everyone, so this was our work-around.
Willa and I read one of those “Who Was…?” kid biography chapter books about Nelson Mandela as part of her school. She was completely enthralled by the story. And I’m not just writing that as some smug parent — she was genuinely captivated and baffled by the whole thing. Soooooo many questions. Could NOT wrap her head around apartheid racism and the harsh prison conditions.
So she was going into it with at least a child’s understanding of what this place was.
The good news for humanity is that hordes and hordes of people from around the world come to pay their respects at Robben Island. It’s an utterly massive tourist destination. That alone was heartening.
The bad news is that the Robben Island tour experience is very herd-like. Mega-ferries depart the V&A Waterfront at 9 am, 11 am and 1 pm. Upon arrival 25 minutes later, the crowd is shuttled on to dozens of waiting coach buses for a 45-minute island tour. We sat at the back of the bus and the guide had no microphone.
Some people had their own private guides along with them, but that almost seemed like more of an ordeal.
After that, you disembarked to explore cell blocks for another hour with a former inmate. There were audible gasps when our guide Peter told us he’d been imprisoned there — 12 years as a political prisoner.
It was moving — but, it was also hard to hear/understand, crowded and hot. I couldn’t help but think that, done the right way, this place could have 100x the emotional impact on visitors.
Mandela’s cell in Section B — the solitary confinement ward — is of course the last stop of the tour. No amount of tourist buzz-kill can take away from the moment you experience looking into his cell. It is very small and very real. Awesome, in the true sense of the word.
Willa was a good sport. I admitted to her that I knew the tour wasn’t great, and promised her her first-ever pack of bubblegum after the experience if she made it the whole 4 hours without complaining.
But she was solemn in her own way there — Section B is just a powerful place, and had that effect on even the smallest visitors.
We hope she remembers this.
And for those considering the visit — I’d say it’s worth it.
That said, on the ferry ride back I decided that Teddy didn’t need to come out. Willa and I had properly served as ambassadors for our family in paying our respects, in bearing witness.
Teddy and James had spent the morning back at the vegan coffee shop doing school. We’re not into vegan fare by any means, but this place Mary Ann’s in Mouille Point is just airy and beautiful and empty with huge tables, so we’ve returned again and again. We tolerate the almond milk cappuccinos in exchange for the real estate.
Teddy and James picked us up at the Waterfront and we went….back to the Constantia Uitsig bike park. We felt we’d made such huge progress the day before that we just had to. This felt like it’d be our big breakthrough day!
This was our third trip out so we were known knowns there now. Blaze welcomed us back and got the kids suited up with their usual bikes.
As it was about 1 pm on a school day, we had the place to ourselves.
Teddy’s back has been hurting so I did most of the back-of-the-seat-holding.
Teaching your kids to ride bikes is such a rite of passage as a parent for a reason — it’s hard! For everyone!
The kids spent a few hours loving/hating it. Loving bikes, hating bikes. Loving their parents, hating their parents. Frustrated/excited, defeatist/on top of the world.
But these nerds are getting the hang of it. They really are close. No one can ride on their own yet, but our grip on the seat is lighter as they ride each time, and both of them can go about 10-15 feet pedaling on their own. Such a far cry from where we started. Love it. So satisfying.
We scrambled to get home because at 6 pm something very exciting was happening. Something VERY exciting. A BABYSITTER WAS COMING TO THE HOUSE!!!
For context, we went from full-time nanny for 6 years plus regular weekend night-time babysitters and frequent weekends away without the kids to ….absolutely ZERO childcare. We are all together 24/7. No jobs to disappear to, no “mother’s helper” once a week, no nothin. Yes, we could trade off watching the kids but then we feel bad for the other spouse who’s got two to deal with. So we just all hang together, basically all the time.
So…a night out on the town???? A-mazing.
My friend Luke’s phenomenally cool wife Meg hooked us up with Melissa, a local sitter, and she showed up with coloring books and games at the house at 6.
Seeing the kids kind for starved for non-parent human conversation was interesting/sad/funny. I only wish I had the microphone out to record them telling this Melissa every detail of our trip so far. Note to self: Tell the next visitor we have to pull out the microphone. They talk to other people, not their parents.
We left them coloring at the kitchen table, having a blast.
Luke and Meg picked us up and the first stop was a beer sundowner on an old abandoned tennis court at the foot of table mountain overlooking the ocean. What a cool insider-y spot. Only ones there, catching up on the last 2 weeks, watching the most stunning orange fireball sunset while sitting on a crumbly old concrete platform.
Then they took us to an Ethiopian spot they love: Little Ethiopia Restaurant.
We drank beers and ate delicious food (with our hands!) then went for two different drinks afterward. These guys were fun hosts even on a work night. They indulged us on our big night out.
Observations/notes/musings/misc:
We have learned that “Zimbos” aka anyone from Zimbabwe are more likely to be entrepreneurial than South Africans. Zimbos always have a startup or a side hustle or the coolest bar/restaurant in town. We will start to become aware of this in the coming weeks.
We’re still reading The BFG, which is definitely the best book Willa has ever been read. She is obsessed with it. As I’m reading it to her I catch her out of the side of my eye staring at the ceiling with a giant grin on her face. Is there anything better?
At one point in the story, the BFG is talking about music having the power to move people. I stopped and asked Willa if she knew what that meant — if she’s ever felt a strong feeling from listening to a song — and she immediately replied yes! I asked which songs, and she did not hesitate in replying: “Silent Night” and “Take Me Out the the Ballgame.” Ha! The first I get, but I had to ask about the second. She said it was the part when it goes “If they don’t win it’s a shame, for it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out….” I can see that I guess!
