Partying with Programming
You'll never believe this!
Tools of the Trade
So Now You're an RA
Life after the RA Experience
Monthly Memorabilia
Icebreakers
Fun on the Job
Bulletin Board Ideas
Careers in Student Affairs
Masters Degree: Work and Pay Opportunities
Program Possibilities
Door Tag Ideas
R.A. List Serve
Leadership Conferences
Resources for your Residents

Search Reslife.net



Sign up today!

Follow Us On Twitter







My trip to South Africa

By Monique Baptiste,
Resident Assistant

Rutgers University - Newark

On March 9, 2000, I had the pleasure of seeing what lies within the borders of South Africa and its neighbor, Namibia. It began in the western-most City of Capetown, South Africa. Capetown is a large Dutch and English settled metropolis. It houses the parliament; it's own city government, and the US Embassy. On the surface, it looks like any city that you would find in the states, tall skyscrapers, fancy hotels and office facilities, and Coca-Cola as far as the eye can see. However, directly on the outskirts of the city lies a different story: one that parallels almost nothing equal to what we in the confines of our technologically financed society would ever be used to. In the perimeters of the city lies the township of Langa. Langa was established during the times of Apartheid. It rests at the foot of Capetown's largest landmark, Table Mountain. Langa is 100% black African inhabited. Many of these families who live in this township have resided there with their families long before Apartheid was dismantled. I had the pleasure of meeting with these families and hearing their story.

The township of Langa is divided into three living standards. The first are those who live in the houses. These houses are about twenty-five-by-twenty feet in size and house a single family, which usually is comprised of a mother, a father and three to four children. The houses have running water and electricity. Each house is equipped with a small kitchen and living quarters that usually serve as a place to sleep by night. It has a front yard that is closed off by a small white picket fence. For those who can not afford the luxuries of these houses, they would live in the next part of the town: the Hostels. The hostels are small five-room homes. They are comprised of four small bedrooms with a minimum of three beds (usually bunk beds) each and a single common living area that serves as a kitchen and eating place for all who live there. The bedrooms are approximately twelve-by-fifteen feet in size. These hostels that used to serve single black men that were sent there to live away from their families, are now used to hold sometimes up to three families per room. Since the average South African family in these townships has four children, one can imagine the condition. The picnic tables in the common area (two, to be exact) transform by night into places for children to sleep if their families' room is too crowded to fit. One or two would sleep on top of the table, and another set would sleep on the dirt floor beneath it. For those who can not live in the hostels, there is yet another living arrangement: the shacks. The shacks of Langa, and most townships in South Africa, cover the largest portion of the area. They are made up of sheets of metal taken from bus stops, junkyards, etc. They are usually rusted from the weather. These sheets are used for the walls of the shacks as well as the ceiling. As one can imagine, in the summer months (December through March) these shacks, under the heat of the strong South African sun, can heat up to tremendous degrees. Likewise, in winter, when the sun is not strong and temperatures drop to twenty degrees Fahrenheit, the steel can become cold as ice, cooling everything within its content like a freezer. These shacks have very little space between them and can stretch on for a minimum of about a mile. They have no electricity, no running water and no means by which garbage and waste can be collected, so, therefore, it remains littering the ground surrounding them. This is what made the township of Langa, and yet the people were happy.

The next place we visited was Robben Island. Robben Island, about five miles off the coast of Capetown in the Atlantic Sea, is the maximum-security prison that Nelson Mandela and many other political prisoners during the reign of Apartheid were held. On this island are several things. The first that we visited was the facilities of Robert Sebokwe. Kept in a house smaller than the houses in Langa without windows and any material items, Robert Sebokwe was held there for decades of his life. Sebokwe was once considered one of the most dangerous men in South Africa, not because he committed any crime, but because he had the ability to spark the minds of African citizens like Nelson Mandela, and the ability to provoke them to demand their freedom from Apartheid. For this, he was taken from his wife and children and put in solitary confinement on the opposite end of the island with no contact allowed from the rest of the prisoners on the island. The only time he saw life other than his prison guards was when the prisoners were being shipped to the Quarry to work. He was alone for so long; he lost his ability to speak.

In the Quarry, Prisoners were forced to shovel and dig limestone for most of the day. They would then take the stone in barrels and lay it down about the island to cover the roads. Once finished, they were told to take all of the stone up that was laid down that day and bring it back to the Quarry. This tactic was used by the prison to demoralize the men. As you may know, Limestone has the ability to be very blinding under the high noon sun. You can imagine, then, staring everyday at this stone for hours and hours. It is like staring into a snow bank. This is why Nelson Mandela cannot have his picture taken with a flash camera. He had to work in the quarry during the 22 years of his stay in Robben Island. The Quarry burned the retinas in both of his eyes.

But even through all of this, abuse by prison guards daily, solitary confinement, poor nutrition, and much more that we could never image, Mandela and many other men were able to survive Robben Island and become champions of freedom.

The final two places we stopped were Windhoek, Namibia at the University of Namibia and Soweto, Johannes. Here, we were able to see the student influence of the past, the present and the future. The past was seen through the memorials created for the student uprising of 1976. Depicted in the movie and play, Sarafina, many students lost there live in the township of Soweto struggling for the end of Apartheid and to gain their freedom. They went to schools sometimes with no windows that were interrupted by random police searches daily. Sometimes, they would not be able to go to school because of help needed by their families. But they wanted their freedom. So, in 1976, they fought for it. The first to die was Hector Peterson. He, during a peaceful march down a Sowetan street, was shot several times by police who wanted to break up the protest. His body was carried away by his good friend and classmate, and his sister. The students ranged from age ten to sixteen years old.

The students of the present were those that we meet in Windhoek, Namibia. Although in a completely different country, many of the stories were the same. However, because of the fight fought in South Africa for freedom, as well as the fight fought in Namibia, these students could go to school without restrictions. The University of Namibia was erected in 1991. It has most of the major disciplines of a major university in the United States. We had an opportunity to meet with these students. Many were hoping to go back and work in South Africa, where they came from and where they had family. Others who were native of Namibia aspire to travel to the United States, a luxury many would not have dreamed of decades ago. The troubles of Apartheid are fresh in their minds. In fact, one student we met still carried the pass that was required of all Black Africans in order to leave their homes legally as a reminder of where he has been in his life.

The future was seen in the eyes of the children that now live in Soweto. Many live like those in Langa, some without shoes to wear on their feet. Many schools are still in the same condition as they were in the 70's, but there have been several that have been rebuilt and renovated since then. They still can feel the cold breath of Apartheid behind them with every glance across the horizon of the city. They see that, because they are black, they have to work sometimes ten times harder just to get where everyone else is. But, in spite of this, the Sowetan smile is brighter than any I've seen in my life. The children's eyes dance with spirit and freedom. They have very little, but they are still happy.

So what's the moral of the trip? Well, it is in the people. There is a saying that reigns in these states of Africa. It is "We are people of one sand. Never give up." This saying is held in the hearts of many. They have less than many of us in the states and are happier too. They know what not to take for granted, because it is a blessing that they have it at all. Above all, the people of South Africa know the triumphs of the human spirit. They know that they should never forget the past, and that the past should never hinder your future. They know that, if they want it enough, life can be good and get better and better as time and effort continues. They hold the secret to life, youth and happiness, a secret that many times in America we have a tendency to forget. They always remember their spirit. It is through this spirit that they survived Apartheid. It is through this spirit that they tore down its walls for freedom. It is through this spirit that they will rise from the adversity they may be in to live better lives and pave the way for their children. If there is anything I, an American student, can learn from this trip it is be thankful for what you have, know where you've been, and go for what you want, despite everything, and be humble on the way. It's a lesson that some never have the chance to receive, and one that I will never forget.

About the Author

Monique Baptiste is a first year RA at Rutgers University - Newark and recently had the opportunity to travel with a group of students for a Spring Break trip to South Africa. Besides serving as a Resident Assistant, Monique is a past Vice President of Student Government, Campus Orientation Leader and Past President of the Black Organization of Students. Monique is in her junior year studying Political Science and Economics.