Zoo City

Lauren Beukes has written an engaging thriller that defies categorization. It's urban fantasy with Johannesburg's Hillbrow taking center stage, a strong female protagonist, an interesting concept of the "animalled" featuring magic, and the dark, gritty streets of contemporary urban South Africa. Nothing is quite as it seems, those who commit crimes get "animalled," a concept explained in some of the news reports, online forums, and emails that comprise some of the chapters. Zinzi December, the novel's protagonist, has a sloth for her animal, and while not literally glued together, the magical bond that connects human to their animal is so strong they cannot part way, that is, not without using magical means.

While the novel is quite accurate to the realities of contemporary Johannesburg's Hillbrow (the daily violence, lack of police protection, gang wars, squatters, and refugees from other African countries), and it uses elements of romance, crime thriller, science fiction, and fantasy, it also endeavors to incorporate muti into the narrative. This is dangerous because it can, perhaps, be used to promote negative, outdated stereotypes of Africa as full of superstitious cannibals who believe in witchcraft. The complexities of witchcraft and muti murders in South Africa is too difficult to explain in this novel, and one sees how it ties with the "animalled" concept and Undertow, but can leave the reader with negative stereotypes of Africa. Nevertheless, in a world where animals become magically "tied" to those who commit crimes and the world responds in kind with a combination of discrimination, superstition, and magic (mashavi, the word used in southern Africa), perhaps the retention of muti beliefs in the use of human and animal body parts remains relevant (hey, even non-black characters also use it).

The novel concludes in an open-ended way, with some redemption possible for Zinzi. Ultimately, the novel seems to be about just that, Zinzi restoring her moral balance in a dysfunctional world known. As one might expect, the novel functions as allegory for apartheid in some respects, too, given that those who are "animalled" are segregated in "Zoo City," a fictionalized neighborhood in Hillbrow. Housing segregation, employment discrimination, and the reality of life for poor South Africans haunt the narrative, allowing Beukes to make light social commentary on the social discord in Johannesburg. I will have to follow Beukes's work for some time to read such an interesting science fiction story set in South Africa.

An Evening With 'Black Diamonds' in Cape Town

Rest in peace, Sathima. I will eternally regret not introducing myself when I saw you at your husband's concert in Cape Town. You are a master of emoting who adds depths of soul to any jazz ballad. Check out "The Man I Love," too.

One evening in late April or May, I finally met up with a South African middle-class black woman from the Johannesburg area. And by Johannesburg, I mean, most likely from the nearby suburbs or wealthy enclaves of the city. The young woman, who I met on the street one night in Observatory kissing her girlfriend, was highly educated, interested in Haiti, studied Spanish, and lived in Gabon for some time. I can't recall what exactly brought her family to Gabon, but I believe her mother was an educated, professional South African who moved there for work purposes. Anyway, we exchanged numbers (she mistook me and a Haitian-American/Canadian sister for her friends) after talking.

Over a month or two later, after saying we'll meet up one night and then not contacting each other, she invited me to join her and some of her close friends. Now, anyone who knows me can tell I am not a 'nightlife' person, but in the interest of study and getting to know her better, I agreed. Furthermore, because UCT is still majority white and the class/racial inequalities in South Africa basically means most of the black students are from middle-class or elite backgrounds, it was an opportunity to spend more time with the 'black diamonds' (middle-class and wealthy blacks, largely from Johannesburg, who study, work, and live in Cape Town) I rarely interacted with off campus. Indeed, it was an interesting experience, and they reminded me of my brother, Sizwe, except he came from a working-class or lower middle-class family that lived 3 hours away from Johannesburg. Sizwe's racial politics and musical interests were quite different, however, and reflected his Pan-Africanist sympathies.

Anywho, I decided to meet up with the aforementioned group of 'black diamonds' at a bar/club in Observatory. Can't recall the name, but I believe the establishment is known for rock music. After  spending ten-twenty minutes looking for them, we met at the top floor of the establishment, which played dubstep, hip-hop, and electronica-styled music. Initially I regretted going, because I had to pay at least (it might have been even more) R30 just to get in. But out of boredom (I had no other plans for that evening) and curiosity, I decided to pay and saw her immediately. Her friends, unsurprisingly, were also 'black diamonds' from Johannesburg or its environs.

Moving on, the group consisted of the following: one tall, yellow-brown complected man who was a good dancer, a pretty but somewhat 'thick' woman, another good-looking woman who was stylishly dressed and more traditionally 'effeminate' than the previous beauty, and last but not least, the woman I met that night in Obz with her partner. They were okay dancers (but hey, neither am I), save the tall, wiry guy, who put them to shame. Each one was of means or from comfortable backgrounds, and they clearly enjoyed themselves quite a bit. They bought a lot of drinks, danced nearby each other while the one other male in our party put us all to shame. The music was not my cup of tea, consisting largely of dubstep and electronic garbage popular in the US and parts of Europe. The club's dancefloor was quite mixed, though, with lots of whites, Indians, some Coloureds, and blacks. Indeed, it was far more integrated than a lot of the places on Long Street I had spent some time at.

Besides dancing like fiends (the loud music made it very hard to communicate and I felt somewhat uncomfortable given my lack of appropriate 'dance or club attire'), we spent some time taking shots (I only participated once, and actually bought one of the 'diamonds' a drink, too) and relaxing. From what I can recall several months later, one was studying film and the rest were studying different areas. After about an hour of two, we left (our hands were stamped so we could get back in for free) and walked around the block for a while, mainly so that they could smoke that dagga (just playing, black South Africans seem to refer to it as weed for the most part, I think dagga is Afrikaans), which I did not take part in. While walking around, the woman who invited me to the group and I discussed her interests in Spanish, I asked a question about some slang I've heard lots of black South Africans use (ninga = nigga, which they confirmed for me), and I asked them about their homes and thoughts on Cape Town (unfortunately, I can only remember that one was from Centurion, and only because I briefly visited that area between Pretoria and Jo'burg).

Unlike some of the other middle-class black South Africans who were primary English speakers I talked to, they did not seem to feel discomfort in Cape Town's predominantly white upper-class spaces. Indeed, they all spoke highly of Cape Town and UCT, revealing nothing deeper in their thoughts on race relations, class inequality, or preferences of Cape Town or Jo'burg. I did realize that they, like too many young people from all over the world, idolize and closely mimic and follow US popular culture. Each of them talked to me about their love of the US, wanting to see New York and Los Angeles, how much they enjoyed that Kendrick Lamar song, etc. Indeed, like the mostly white students from the Southern suburbs of Cape Town I worked with in some of my courses at UCT, they also liked horrible American television shows (why the hell do people like Big Bang Theory or How I Met Your Mother. Europeans could also be obsessed with those horrible American sitcoms, Justin Bieber, and other inferior US/North American cultural exports). Oh well, at least they didn't tell me I looked like the Indian nerd in Big Bang Theory like the middle-class man in Soweto!

Indeed, from what I can tell, those of means and engaged in popular culture to some extent, all consumed US culture (or what they think of as "American"), which entailed idolozing and dreaming of going to New York and Los Angeles. Since I have been to these cities they idolize, I tried to tell them life in New York or LA ain't all it's cracked up to be, but perhaps that experience is better left to experiencing it for themselves. Surprising, they did not ask too much about the cities I was from and lived in, but hey, they ain't exciting compared to NYC.

After dancing around some more, discussing films with the lanky individual, and then becoming exhausted (dancing is tiring, I don't know how young people do it so much!), we left the joint and caught a cab. I suppose due to their earlier smoking, everyone wanted to eat fast food, so we took the cab to the McDonald's on Main Road in Obz. It's kind of a new status thing for the black middle classes in South Africa to be able to eat at some of these international fastfood chains. In the past, a place like KFC was frequented overwhelmingly by white South Africans, but 'black economic empowerment' and the growth of the black middle class has led to joints such as the aforementioned KFC to lose their prestige to whites. Anyway, everyone enjoys and eats at KFC and McDonald's in Cape Town. Besides being assumed to be a nerd by the stylish, thin woman, we ended up finally leaving McDonald's driveway after the employee messed up our order and everyone decided what belonged to who. It was somewhat childish and annoying, because I did not order anything yet had to endure yelling and somewhat excessive arguing.

Long story short, I was dropped off first because I stayed in Mowbray, closest to Observatory. They got off the cab later in neighborhoods closer to UCT. I felt bad about not paying anything for the cab, but was short on cash and only rode with them for less than a mile. Also, they probably are wealthier than me! One could afford a flight to get back to Johannesburg of all things the next day! Some of her spending habits struck me as frivolous, but who am I to judge? But I digress, they were an interesting group that struck me as somewhat apolitical and complacent. Yet I did not interact with them in a non-clubbing setting. I am certain that on campus they're studious or serious students (they seemed that way when we crossed paths by Jameson Plaza). In addition, each one, especially the woman who introduced me to the group, are more informed and critical than I noticed that evening. They were in a 'let's get drunk, high, and dance' mood that's common among all university students, particularly those of means.

In the end, my experience with 'black diamonds' such as the above were always cordial and somewhat interesting, yet also occasionally dull in terms of depth or meaning beyond the superficial when focused on rather mindless activities, such as drinking and dancing at overpriced clubs (yet still much cheaper than some of the pseudo-fancy places on Long Street). Unsurprisingly, most felt no reason to discuss their privileges or how the growth of the black elite and middle-classes is the primary factor in class inequality in post-apartheid South Africa. But then again, how often do elite or middle-class Americans discuss poverty in a serious, meaningful way?

Oh well, perhaps because so many of the black South Africans at UCT are from similarly privileged backgrounds, I can see many socializing largely in that circle of diamonds from Johannesburg  and with whites. Indeed, that is what I witnessed with one 'diamond' who was dating the 'gay Nazi' neighbor of mine. So black diamonds don't even have to think about or confront some of these issues if their social circles (dictated according to lines drawn by class and, somewhat, race) and privileged membership in exclusive spaces such as UCT, the 'best university in Africa," never push them to confront the dire straits the overwhelming majority of the black populace of Cape Town and the Cape Flats face.

What do you think? Is this long, rambling post of any real significance on the topic of race relations and class in postapartheid Cape Town? And what of Coloureds, who constitute about 49% of Cape Town's population? I have no real understanding or exposure to Colored class/race dynamics that did not come out of a book. I would be fascinated to hear about how Coloureds at UCT conceived of themselves in Cape Town's social relations, the distribution of power, and race relations.

Thoughts on the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg

On my last day in Johannesburg a few months ago, I figured out how to use the mini-bus/taxibuses in which seem less efficient than the ones in Cape Town. I caught one on Main Road in Melville, took it to a bus station center in or near New Town (seeing some of these neighborhoods of inner-city Jo’burg during the day is so different from night, the dilapidated buildings, etc. are much more obvious in daylight), and took another one from there to Gold Reef City, where the apartheid museum is uncomfortably near an amusement park.

But the museum was great and only R40, and impossible to cover in the little more than two hours we had before meeting up with some friends. The Apartheid Museum had an entire temporary exhibit on Nelson Mandela, where I learned much more than I ever did about his past (his Xhosa background, his living in Alexandra and Soweto, his training/combat training in other parts of Africa such as Ethiopia, his loyalty to old friends and allies, such as Qaddafi, and his time in Robben Island, which I later visited).

The permanent exhibition, much larger and full of even more information than I could handle, included the history of Johannesburg, the gold mining industry, early urban history and the development of segregation and townships, the rise of apartheid, anti-apartheid icons and movements, and the transition to democracy. Since we had to move so quickly through this final part, I missed out and skipped over reading many parts of the end of the apartheid museum. But they did have some cool stuff, including a recording of Miriam Makeba singing, videos from Mandela speaking and other pivotal moments and interviews, and a picture of Johannesburg youths in the 1950s playing kwela music on the street.

Unlike the District 8 Museum in Cape Town, the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg is very impressive, detailed, and perhaps a little excessive, since it's impossible to really take in all that it offers (video displays, several rooms/halls of pictures, text, and features such as an entrance to the museum where one is classified by race and has to enter a different path based on that classification, a tribute to Nelson Mandela and the spirit of freedom, etc.). Of course, one could and should argue that the deification of Mandela, though he's such an easy and accessible symbol of freedom to people of all races, renders invisible the much larger social movements and organizations engaged in the anti-apartheid struggle, but overall the rest of the museum thoroughly covered the general movement quite well.

That said, it's one of my favorite museum experiences for it's extensive documentation of the entirety of the apartheid period, from the early foundations of Johannesburg and white minority rule to the formal onset of apartheid in the 1940s and ending with the release of Mandela from Robben Island, the gradual dissolution of de Klerk's apartheid government, etc. Another neat aspect of some of the deeper historical displays was pictures and life stories of individuals and their descendants who played a role in the growth of Johannesburg from gold rush to the end of the 20th century.

In summation, the Apartheid Museum was my finest museum outing in South Africa. I suppose the only large flaw I saw was the absence of significant coverage of the pre-colonial period and the history of white settler colonialism gradually leading to white dominance by the late 19th century of most of what is today South Africa. If I had to rank them, it would be this one as 1st, the Hector Pieterson Museum in Soweto 2nd, and the National Gallery in Cape Town as 3rd. Unfortunately, I did not have a camera on me most of the time and one of the few photos I possess was taken by a fellow-traveller. I do not claim ownership of the above image in any way at all.

South African Cities

The following is the racial demographics and residential areas of Joburg and other South African cities (Durban, East London, and Pretoria). Blue represents Black African, orange is Coloured, green is Indian or Asian, and purple is White. The population data is based on 2001 South African census data, which definitely undercounts the population of metropolitan areas. One dot represents 25 people. Also, I got this from Adrian Frith's site.

Here is Johannesburg

Durban, a very Indian city

East London

Pretoria

And Port Elizabeth

And Bloemfontein

Welcome To Our Hillbrow

Phaswane Mpe's short novel is quite the read. It's quite disturbing but worthwhile, especially for putting to life the residents of Hillbrow, Johannesburg. I have blogged about the neighborhood before, which can be found here. This novel, however, explains the streets, crime, xenophobia, racism, HIV/AIDS, and relationship with the rest of Johannesburg and South Africa sorely lacking in any sociologist or social worker's attempt to explain life in Hillbrow. The novel is centered on two black South Africans from Tiragalong, a rural area, and their intersecting lives with other blacks in post-apartheid South Africa. Oddly, the novel is written in second-story, switching between Refentse and Refilwe with tangents on the lives of their families, friends and loved ones. Oddly structured, yes, brilliant writing, undoubtedly. Descriptions of South African race relations, prostitution, extreme xenophobia, necklacing, and ostracism because of AIDS permeates the entirety of the novel.

Hillbrow, Johannesburg

The following post is based on the above Aljazeera video about life in contemporary Hillbrow, accounts from a friend of a friend who visited Hillbrow a few years ago and an article by a South African white sociologist. Check out "Race Relations and Racism in a Racially Diverse Inner City Neighbourhood: A Case Study of Hillbrow, Johannesburg" by Alan Morris. My friend of a friend visited Hillbrow with an Indian Muslim from Botswana and their car was apparently stolen, although it was not parked in Hillbrow. My friend told me the following about his friend and the Indian Muslim's adventures in Hillbrow via google chat:

My friend was there

  said it was interesting

  but akin to hell

  beggars

  crowded and teeming

  prostitutes everywhere

  lots of abortion stores

  churches

  street foodit was active and really cool

  but evidently a very dangerous place

  saw people simply laying on the ground

  passed out drunk

  or high

From the little research I've done into the history of this fascinating Joburg neighborhood, its transition from whites-only to black slum parallels the transformation of many cities in the US. By 1986, the apartheid government abandoned any attempts to prevent black migration into white-only parts of the city as defined under the Group Areas Act. Black townships were already overpopulated and Hillbrow had excessive available housing for squatters and tenants. During the economic upsurge of the 1960s, the trendy white neighborhood of Hillbrow experienced excessive housing development, including high rises, so it was inevitable that colored, Indians, and blacks would defy the Group Areas Act in search of better housing. Facing economic recession in the 1980s and 90s, the South African government was unable to invest in housing for black South Africans so the movement toward Hillbrow accelerated in 1982 when the Supreme Court banned prosecution and eviction of non-whites living in white neighborhoods unless housing could be found in that person's own racial group's defined areas. Indeed, conditions were so horrible in black townships and "Bantustans" that black flight to the inner-city led to blacks living in squalid conditions in rooftop domiciles in places like Hillbrow before the apartheid government gave up on preventing interracial neighborhoods in Johannesburg. However, the article I read focuses on the brief period in the early 1990s before massive white, colored and Indian flight, when whites were still almost 20% of Hillbrow's population in the early 1990s.

Relying on survey data from residents in the neighborhood, it becomes clear that income, race, age, and the amount of time individuals lived in the area impacted their attitudes towards racial difference. Since apartheid South Africa defined cities and urban spaces as white and civilized, blacks were only accepted in the city proper to provide servile roles, such as domestics or maids for white families. However, with the collapse of enforcement of the Group Areas Act, white South Africans who grew up or spent the majority of their lives in neighborhoods such as Hillbrow, living in a world where the only blacks they saw in the neighborhood were domestics and servile, the shift to majority-black by the end of the 1980s shattered their definition of public space. These hordes of Africans were perceived as harbingers of urban decay, uncivilized, criminals, and their racial pride or references to the ruling ANC party, threatened the comfortable worldview of white South Africans. The elderly, especially those too poor to move out, displayed the most overt racism. Indians and Colored also voiced anti-black prejudice and stereotypes, which is to be expected given their intermediate status between blacks and whites in the apartheid racial hierarchy. In fact, Indians, colored, and whites mostly accepted the negative stereotypes of Africans as dismantling urban, civilized respectability and maintenance of public spaces. Thus, ALL Africans are blamed for unorthodox uses of doors, poor upkeep of property, using one-bedroom flats for entire families, and hosting parties late into the night.

Regardless of the plethora of stereotyping and perceived threats whites and others felt about the African majority in Hillbrow, most races lived in apartment buildings that were monoracial or mostly occupied by the same race, so social interactions and friendships were often limited to people belonging to the same race. As mentioned previously, however, class dynamics come into play since whites and others were more tolerant of racial difference if their neighbors were more educated or seemingly close to dominant notions of proper city living. Younger whites, especially those moved to Hillbrow more recently, tended to be more liberal and often enjoyed civil if not friendly relations with black residents. Indeed, some whites described blacks as being kinder or more well-mannered. Whites terrified by black rule and the militant attitudes of black South Africans describe the situations in the street as being the most dangerous, not interactions in apartments. For instance, whites sometimes felt forced into showing deference for the blacks who, under apartheid, were once forced to move out of the way of whites on the street. Of course, one must also keep in mind that the white South Africans, who reported racial incidents occurring far more frequently than other races in Hillbrow, were likely exaggerating some of their interactions with blacks due to stereotype threat. According to the study, Africans reported racial incidences at the lowest frequency, but given their position as the majority in Hillbrow in the 1990s, whites, colored, and Indians were likely compelled to show some semblance of respect or acceptance for blacks on the streets or risk actual violence, physical or verbal.

One of the major limits of Morris's study, however, is the lack of attention given to immigrant communities established in Hillbrow. He mentions Nigerians and Francophone Africans, who appear in the documentary, actually, but their interactions with black South Africans is not analyzed. Neither are the details of the Indian and colored flight from Hillbrow analyzed, although given their position in the racial hierarchy, most were able to escape to suburbs, like whites. Morris actually concludes the study by showing how, just as in the US, the inner-city became equated with crime and blackness, leading to suburbanization becoming the symbolic space of whiteness and middle-class respectability. Although the reverse seems to be the trend now in the US, South African cities like Johannesburg are experiencing the same type of urban-suburban migration once idolized in the US. Given the horrendous and corrupt management of the ANC, it's no surprise people of all races would want to escape the muggings, homelessness, rape, vacant buildings, and frequent blackouts that plague life for inner-city Johannesburg. Yet Hillbrow continues to be a center for African immigrants and refugees working in South Africa. The Aljazeera feature includes interviews with Nigerian and other immigrants, some escaping war, others poverty, who find a way to survive in Johannesburg despite the frequent problems. Police corruption and targeting of immigrants, as well as xenophobic attacks from other black South Africans, hardly contribute to Hillbrow as an ideal place of escape either. Either way, these immigrant communities find a way to survive in the once beautiful Hillbrow neighborhood, which may experience revitalization in the near future, although that is likely wishful thinking on the part of some.

In the future I will have to conduct some research into the immigrant communities in Johannesburg, South African suburbanization, and race relations between and among Indians, colored, and blacks. Who knows, perhaps I'll make it there myself one day to see the wondrous ruins of inner Joburg, which is reminiscent of Detroit in some ways (white flight, disinvestment, poor governing, and blight). The numerous examples of ailing infrastructure, barred former businesses, and inferior services is hardly new to South Africa, or the US, for that matter. The National Party clearly showed they were not investing in housing for black South Africans while simultaneously ensuring widespread rural poverty that triggered urban migration. For racists and conservative whites, the example of Hillbrow, once one of Johannesburg's best neighborhoods, reduced to a site of crime, undocumented immigrants, substandard housing and services, is irrefutable evidence of the inevitable consequence of racial integration or black rule. The same can be seen in the US, where the presence of blacks in majority white neighborhoods is a sign of declining property values and criminality. Redlining and racism are not considered as likely factors in the aftermath of white flight, but clearly parallels between the Johannesburg and US cities reveal entwined racist institutional structures.

The following link is a great example of the collapse of one of the best examples of high rise apartment complexes, Ponte.