Experiencing Blackness in South Africa: A Black American Perspective

One of the strangest things for me about being in South Africa was that my blackness was often not seen, or perhaps being from a wealthy country made it less conspicuous. Indeed, coming from a powerful, comparatively rich and imperialist society probably made me resemble the white Europeans passing through Cape Town much more than I care to admit. Perhaps a certain degree of 'racial ambiguity' contributed to the pattern, too. In fact, that very same 'ambiguity' works in the US among African-Americans I work with and serve at my low-wage job. They're always asking what nationality or race are you, too! But back to South Africa, one gay or bisexual European living next door and dating a black South Africa thought I was Israeli! His second and third guess were Pakistani and Indian. Even Brazilian! A black South African friend of mine from Mpumalanga was not quite sure what I was and somewhat surprised when he initially heard me refer to myself as African-American. 

Others thought I was of Indian descent (such as the black middle-class South African with an adorable baby living in Soweto, who basically said I looked like the Indian nerd from The Big Bang Theory) or Coloured, including my Haitian-American friend or the immature Coloured fool of a man I stayed with in Johannesburg for a few days telling me that I could be his brother multiple times. Others thought I was African, such as two drunken white students from Wits University in Jo'burg, although some could not quite tell. In short, if I did not open my mouth, I could blend in quite easily, such as the time a Coloured man on Main Road in Cape Town asked me for directions in Afrikaans. 

However, my 'blackness' was never quite forgotten by others, including the racist and just generally disgusting white landlord, a vain and ignorant woman who actually called herself an anti-apartheid activist! The woman has an underpaid black woman fluent in multiple languages as a domestic at her properties (and that of her daughter!) and she spoke to the woman in the most condescending and disgusting ways by keeping tabs on her, telling my housemates and neighbors that the cleaning lady could not speak English well and treating her and her husband as if they were dumb slaves. I assume that my being from the US probably made her less racist towards me, because I am one of the 'civilized' blacks from a wealthy country, but the landlord once awkwardly told me she recognized me sitting on the couch from a long distance because my visible foot hanging over the side was brown. 

Needless to say, it was a very awkward moment, though not as horrible as the many times the woman invaded the privacy of the house, mistreated her cleaning lady in our presence, and was just generally dishonest and condescending. Like most older, liberal white South Africans who grew up under apartheid, she presumably has some amount of white guilt and shame, but her racism and disregard for the humanity of the black South Africans working for her was callous and quite revealing of her pseudo-liberal character. If there's any hope for South Africa, it will be in people like her dying off and being replaced by genuinely anti-racist, anti-classist individuals working against the legacies of apartheid and decades of racial subordination. 

Besides her, some racist and classist Europeans were always around, such as one European who warned me to not 'pick up nasty African habits' like littering (as if only Africans litter!) or hearing people say racist jokes about blacks being incapable of running restaurants well (as well as a plethora of other offensive, racist, and white settler fantasy myths). Some US whites were, unsurprisingly, quite ignorant and racist, too. But these white folks were not South Africans. The racist white ones who were most visibly disturbed and displayed hate and disdain in their eyes were older Afrikaners, such as the ones on the train I took to and from Cape Town to Johannesburg. Some of those old crackers were looking at me as if I was the worst thing to happen to them and about to rape their wives, sisters, and daughters! But fortunately, such disgusting encounters were few and there were some very nice Afrikaners, such as one guy from the Eastern Cape (East London, perhaps, I can't remember) who I sat next to on a flight from Johannesburg to Germany. 

Now, it seemed to me like nearly every racial and/or ethnic group in South Africa, much like groups in the US, relied on stereotypes and vast generalizations to describe others, such as the otherwise amazing and beautiful, educated black couple who showed us around parts of Soweto and Jo'burg. They claimed Coloureds are essentially alcoholics (well, not quite, but they certainly left the impression that they believe Coloureds drink substantively more and were quite violent in their 'areas' of Johannesburg and Gauteng. Yet, at the same time, I witnessed positive interactions at the University of Cape Town (though it is majority white and still very segregated) and among some of the poor and working-class blacks and Coloureds in the streets of Cape Town. In addition, the very same aforementioned middle-class Black South African who thought I was Indian was about to marry a Zulu-Indian woman!

So, what I'm trying to say is, I don't want to generalize negatively and therefore stereotype South Africans on their own views. For instance, people talk much of xenophobia and violence against African immigrants, such as Somali shopkeepers and others in predominantly black neighborhoods and townships. There is certainly a degree of truth to that, but, from what I saw in Cape Town, the Somali shopkeepers who ran numerous cornerstores in Mowbray (the neighborhood I stayed in, which was probably going through a streak of high crime for quite a while until maybe a few years before I resided in the neighborhood) were mostly treated respectfully and engaged in cordial and friendly relationships with their clientele.

My experience with Indians (most multi-generational South Africans, and one fascinating postgraduate student directly from India who told me he prefers Cape Town because the streets are not so densely packed as overcrowded Indian cities), blacks (native South Africans and black immigrants), and Coloureds were mostly positive (although a homeless Coloured man of partial Chinese ancestry had no problem sharing with me his hatred of kaffirs for ruining South Africa and causing an exodus of whites to Australia, New Zealand and other shores). Of course, he had no problem taking money from black South Africans who bought him food or gave him some rands! But I am not sure he knew or thought of me as black, because of my allegedly "Indian" or "Coloured" looks and my American accent. Indeed, as in the apartheid era, blacks from the US could become 'honorary whites' (white reception of The Cosby Show in the apartheid years reveals a certain pattern). Historically, black immigrants, such as West Indians in late 19th century Cape Town, could also merge into the Coloured 'race.'

One strange encounter I shall never forget was meeting an uncouth, uneducated but well-intentioned Colored man married to the cleaning lady at a house on my block. They're both nice people (and the wife thought I was Muslim or Indian when she first met me, too!), but when dining with them over a decent home-cooked meal of curry with roti (the cleaning lady is a Coloured woman who lived in Cape Town all her life, with brown skin and would probably be considered 'black' or "Latino' in the US racial order), her husband called me a 'nigger' multiple times. He thought African-Americans always refer to each other as nigger (again, the pervasive and negative influence of white-dominated media caricatures of blackness in the US has transcended national borders and seas for a long time). Despite me telling him otherwise, he did not seem to understand (and was probably drunk). I noticed that a lot in South Africa, the spread of African-American culture and stereotypes of blackness globally. From hearing a South African friend call me "ninja" and speak of how back in the day people used to call each other that as a play on 'nigga' was certainly an experience.

Based on my conversations with folks, it would seem most did not have a deep or significant understanding of the history of African-Americans. One young woman who grew up both in the Greater Johannesburg area and Gabon (her mother worked there for years) was educated, fluent in Spanish, and knew quite a bit about Haiti and the US, and certainly Pan-Africanist ideas and the popularity of hip-hop, R&B, jazz, and reggae (as well as large African immigrant communities in South Africa) certainly demonstrates some transnational links in blackness. Some educated South Africans with more radical affiliations remained dedicated to Pan-Africanism and understood the links between blacks in the US and their own lot in South Africa, such as an old, Coloured tour guide at the District Six Museum in Cape Town. Indeed, he was quite vocal about his ancestor's enslavement in colonial Cape Society and, when discussing slavery in the Americas, asked if I was a descendant of slaves, too. Sure, it was a strange question, and the man seemed to enjoy making the whites in the group feel uncomfortable emphasizing slavery (which I thought hilarious), but he was actually tying his own people's history in South Africa to a broader 'black' history of struggle, speaking very highly of Pan-Africanist ideals in ways that shattered stereotypes of Coloured people's alleged animosity towards blacks.

 Indeed, the whole history of slavery, colonialism, and racial apartheid is definitely something folks know about, but beyond the Civil Rights Movement, Martin Luther King, and Barack Obama and some well-known icons and symbols of black popular culture in the US (Rihanna, Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar and their ilk), there was something missing. But then again, how much do blacks in the US know about South Africa beyond Nelson Mandela, the history of apartheid, and perhaps Miriam Makeba? Perhaps I am too critical of the influence of US culture in South Africa, too. Corporate media unquestionably contributes to the proliferation of stereotypes and flawed representations of Black America, but there is something interesting for academics about the homogeneity of popular culture among youths, which is probably over-exaggerated anyway (despite meeting young, middle-class black students from Johannesburg and 'clubbing' with them one night while hearing all about their love for the US, particularly California and New York).

As for the experience of other Black Americans I met in South Africa, it's quite hard for me to say. After all, I am not a spokesman for my race, haha! There were quite a few Black American students of Ethiopian and Eritrean descent, a handful of Afro-Latinos, a few African-Americans, and some other ones, but they either largely stuck with white American and European social circles (again, coming from wealthy Western countries can do that to you). Two African-Americans whose company I really enjoyed made friends with lcoals, including a brotha from Botswana but of Somali roots and other folks. They were good company, enjoyed jazz, and provided positive space for 'debriefing.' I got the vibe that one of them was one of those guys who has 'dear white friends' but aint interested in putting up with BS from people and largely socialized with black folks or spent time alone. Who knows, perhaps if more African-American students were able to participate in and afford study abroad programs, all of our experiences would have been drastically different and Black American students could have some forum or something to discuss these issues with South Africans.

Overall, I would say my 'blackness' was largely rendered secondary to my status as American, at least to those who could tell I was from the US or knew me well enough. But I certainly had some 'interesting' experiences with people from all over in South Africa, some of which was unbearably annoying or uncomfortable to witness. One of the many times I felt out of place was actually when going to upscale and bourgie restaurants and nightlife areas of Cape Town, because, besides the handful of blacks also sitting at tables or getting down with the sea of whiteness in the clubs, all the other blacks were servers or in menial positions. Oh, the joys of being black in South Africa! It's quite the experience, but I enjoy reading about other's experiences as "Black in Japan," for instance, or "African in China."

I apologize for the length of this post. Hope it's readable!