Haiti in the Last Years Under Boyer

It's refreshing to read John Candler's account of Haiti in the early 1840s. Unlike Brown and Franklin, with their white supremacist outlook and seemingly pro-slavery stance, ( by the way, Candler's Brief Notices of Hayti can be accessed here), Candler, a Quaker abolitionist who visits Haiti with his wife, offers an optimistic and positive view of the situation on the island. The following are some areas where Candler offers some important commentary or enlightening facts and figures on Haiti in the last years under Boyer.

The "aristocracy of the skin" lived on under independent Haitian governments. For instance, in certain areas of the country, such as Port-au-Prince, mulattoes nearly monopolized the under-funded schools of the city. Candler also describes a Haitian mulattress who speaks ill of blacks and wishes there was a way to compel them to labor. Overall, Candler does not describe too much colorism in Boyer's Haiti (while Jonathan Brown asserts that Boyer's regime did everything it could to prevent an ascendancy of blacks in the government), but it's clear that mulattoes were disproportionately powerful in the regime. On the question of social relations between blacks and mulattoes, there is mention of most mulatto women never marrying black men, since producing children with darker skin than themselves is not generally seen as a positive thing. Yet, while in Jacmel, Candler met a mulatto widow whose husband was a black man, so black-mulatto marriages were far from unheard of. On the other hand, whites still enjoyed special privileges in Haiti. Indeed, despite prohibitions on whites owning property in Haiti and citizenship rights, a white American became the mayor of the town of St. Marc!

On the question of the economy, Candler is more optimistic than most. Haiti, based on exports to the US, was the third largest exporter to the US economy at the time, and tobacco production, coffee, and mahogany/wood were the most important exports.  In defense of independent Haiti, we see that coffee production only went down by perhaps 12 million from its zenith in Saint Domingue, an example of Haitian economic success without slave labor. Based on his relationship with prominent Haitians in the government, such as Inginac, Candler was given official government documents and uses those to arrive at estimates for government revenues over the years. Based on Haiti's small population and the amount or value of exports, Candler comes to the conclusion that the reality of Haitian exports and commerce are actually quite impressive. On the question of Haitian peasants, he is more mixed than most, defending their liberty and autonomy more so than others, yet blaming heathenism, ignorance, the lack of education, and superstition (some of which is encouraged by Catholic priests, according to this Quaker writer) for languishing agriculture:

 

Candler is quite disturbed by public nudity of children, the absence of proper medical coverage and religious or moral instruction, and clearly is too focused on the export-oriented model of economic development. However, as a product of his time and eager to see a future of profitable but non-slave British colonies in the Caribbean, individuals such as Candler saw Haiti as an experiment on the possibility of free black labor in the hemisphere. Perhaps this may come into play in his seemingly admirable words on the relatively equal manners or relations between landholders and their workers in Haiti, proving that less hierarchical or unequal power relations in agriculture could still be workable or profitable. Therefore, profitable plantations and small estates tied with an export economy remained essential for proving the beneficial future of non-slave societies in the British West Indies. The following selection from Candler's text is quite illustrative of the profitability of Haiti and the importance of its exports to the United States:

The over-sized military budget and Boyer's agreement to compensate former French planters of Saint-Domingue were a great burden on the Haitian economy, however. The standing army was reduced to about 25,000 in 1840, but it was a constant drain on the budget. Candler urges for a further reduction of the military, since those men's labor could be used in agriculture or industry and therefore remove additional financial burdens on the state (and needless to say, the average Haitian soldier was not well-paid!). Out of a perhaps total population on the island of 850,000 (overwhelmingly on the western side), Candler estimates that nearly 1 out of 15 people were in some shape or form engaged or called up to be engaged in the military or guard of Haiti. 

In addition to problems with the military, Candler does not hesitate to criticize the weakness and incompetence of the courts, the military fueling petty crime and theft, and during an interview with Boyer, who emphasizes the youth of the Haitian nation, is defensive of the progress made in Haiti. Since he did not visit the Spanish-speaking provinces, Candler offers little commentary, but he does speak highly of the increased tobacco production and exports from the area around Santiago and of population increase in that part of the island. Thus, Candler's account of Haiti in 1841 is one that, though largely silent on the Spanish side, does reveal some admiration and appreciation of Haitian progress and abolition. As a Protestant, he is not too positive on Catholics, since some Catholic officials perpetuate superstition among the peasants or overcharge for services such as baptisms, and of course one would not expect Candler to be fond of Vodou. Yet, compared to Jonathan Brown, his account of Haiti is not racist and speaks to an optimism that much of the international abolitionist community believed. Indeed, while traveling in parts of Haiti, Candler, who also met two American abolitionists, comments on the hypocrisy of America and Great Britain for their practices of slavery yet proclaiming themselves the freest countries of humanity. 

Interestingly, like many other European and white travelers in Haiti at the time, we see a mulatto-centered history of Haiti emerge. Black leaders such as Dessalines and Christophe are disparaged, insulted, or seen as nothing but tyrants. Fortunately, unlike Mackenzie and others, Candler has a more nuanced version of that period in Haitian history, and speaks highly of the education system established by Christophe in Cap Haitien. Candler basically sees Haiti as an experiment on the moral necessity of abolition and human progress, in accordance with his Quaker sympathies. The Boyer regime must get it together by prioritizing funding for education (especially for girls) and many other things (infrastructure, reforming civil institutions, etc.), but Candler's account gives no prediction of the 1843 revolution. 

Billy Butler and The Enchanters' "You're Gonna Be Sorry"

The world should know by now that I love me some Curtis Mayfield, particularly the 1960s output with The Impressions. I also love me songs he wrote and produced for other Chicago-based soul artists of that decade, such as Walter Jackson, Billy Butler, Major Lance, The Opals, and many others. Some of his compositions, such as those for Major Lance, incorporated Latin rhythms while others were just his usual style of soul composition, with 'cute' and catchy melodies, a little brass or other orchestration, sweet soulful singing, and perhaps a touch of Johnny Pate producing to bring in touches of jazz or blues to the downright spiritual and gospel tones of Mayfield. Check out this song to see what I am talking about and you too will forever fall in love with Curtis Mayfield, specifically his earlier work (not that his solo material is 'bad' at all. To me it's like pre-afrobeat Fela vs. highlife jazz Fela because both are good for you in the end, but I prefer me the earlier period in his music).

James Franklin on Haitian Santo Domingo

After reading Mackenzie's account of Haiti in the 1820s, I decided to peruse Franklin's The Present State of Hayti (1928) in the hopes of finding more information about how Haitian rule of the eastern portion of Hispaniola, today's Dominican Republic, looked (I got the text, here). Unfortunately, Franklin, who is quite racist (he believes Africans and people of African descent left to their own devices revert to a state of savagery and doubts the intellectual and cultural accomplishments of Haitians) does not have too much to offer, but he does provide proof of popular classes celebrating and desiring Haitian unification under Boyer's regime (Franklin 238). Franklin is a little confusing, but on that page he asserts that there were many Haitians of color who established themselves as proprietors in the Spanish side, and they were very interested in Haitian unification (as were leading men in the city of Santo Domingo):

Like Mackenzie, Franklin notes the decline of trade and agriculture in large parts of Santo Domingo, particularly the end of commerce in cattle and other products which were replaced by subsistence agriculture (293). He even attributes the decline of the city of Santo Domingo to Haitian influence, stating, "that in every place where Haytian influence predominates, commercial enterprise, and every other good quality appertaining to man, is sure to sink to the lowest ebb" (298). 

Franklin's account lamentably says little more about Haitian unification, but clearly there was some popular support for the idea initially on the Spanish-speaking side of things. I have heard that there is a Haitian scholar doing more research on this period (1822-1844) who has underused sources that will shed more light on the matter. I eagerly await her research while I continue to read sources from the era myself. 

Fruitvale Station

I haven't cried while watching a film in a very, very long time. Fruitvale Station had me tearing up more than once. Even though you obviously already know how it ends, the film humanizes Oscar Grant by showing all his faults as well as all his strengths. Sure, he was in prison, sure he may have cheated on his girlfriend and mother of his daughter, but no one is perfect and people can and do change all the time. Moreover, this film came out at the perfect time, right after the George Zimmerman trial, where another African American person was unnecessarily and senselessly murdered for no reason. The film does a great job showing the worlds Oscar Grant lived in, too, and the role of race and class in determining who and where one resides in for the most part. We see Grant playing with his daughter, struggling to get his job at a grocery store back, and getting rid of marijuana he could have sold. Since I am around the age of Grant when he was shot, the film also spoke to me in that obvious way, since none of us are free from police oppression and we're all potential targets.

Michael B. Jordan, who I first saw as Wallace in the first season of The Wire, plays Oscar Grant perfectly, with appropriate slang, style, and depth for a complex individual. The film's overall atmosphere of understatement, relaxed, simple shots, and the intimacy seen between Oscar and his loved ones are undeniably impressive. This film must be perhaps the best so far of the decade on race relations, a portrait of a man's life in one day (and how everything good and bad in one's life can go down) and the vagaries of the police state. I only hope that Oscar Grant's daughter will benefit from this film not only through additional exposure of the ugly capacity of humanity to take another's life, but also monetarily. And all this occurred in the same area where the Black Panthers emerged, based on the very same issue of police brutality and harassment! Huey P. Newton must be rolling in his grave...

Charles Mackenzie on Haitian rule of Eastern Hispaniola

Just finished reading Charles Mackenzie's Notes on Haiti, his reflections on traveling around the island of Hispaniola in 1827 (find Volume 1 here, and Volume 2 should be on the same site). At the time, president Boyer of Haiti had only a few years previously unified the entire island, a process which too little is known yet so vital for forging  a "Dominican" national identity in response to over 20 years of Haitian unification. Since Mackenzie traveled throughout both the western and eastern divisions of the island, his copious notes can provide us some insight on this important period in Caribbean history. Indeed, the notion of Caribbean federations and unification arose again in the late 19th century, during the Cuban War of Independence, when some Cuban nationalists envisioned a strong federation of Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic, which comprise the two largest islands of the Caribbean with the greatest populations. This is an early experiment in such a pursuit, one with some legal and local support from colonial Santo Domingo and the nascent nationalist movement there in 1821, as well as precedents from Toussaint's unification of the entire island prior to French invasion.

Moving back to Mackenzie, a British man of color (yet clearly thinking of himself as 'white' and European), his notes on Haiti in the late 1820s reveal the following division of the island into multiple "military arrondissements of rank, usually a general, presides, and exercises both military and civil authority: he is the medium through which the government makes known its arrangements. The arrondissements are Aquin, Azua, Le Borgne, Cape Haitian, Les Cayes, Santo Domingo, Fort Liberte, Gonaives, Jeremie, Grande Riviere, Jacmel, San Juan, Leogane, Limbe, St. Mark, Marmelade, Cape Nicolas Mole, Monte Christi, Nippes, Port-au-Prince, Port de Paix, Port Plate Tiburon, La Vega, Mirebalais and St. Jago." The overall description of the east one gets from Mackenzie is an underpopulated region with a plethora of untouched land and little investment in schools, trade, and industries other than mahogany exports, tobacco, cattle, and small-scale agriculture. Unfortunately, Mackenzie's travels don't reveal too much how ordinary, subaltern peoples of the east conceived of Haitian unification of the island, but talks with local white elites, members of the clerical community in Santo Domingo and monastic communities, and some meetings with Haitian military officials do reveal some of the complexities of the "occupation." 

1. Let's start with discussions of how subaltern sectors conceived of Haiti. According to Mackenzie, while traveling into today's Dominican Republic, he states that even blacks of the region referred to Haitians as "aquellos negros," an early possible instance of proto-Dominican distancing from their fellow black neighbors (Mackenzie Volume 1, 215). Now, this occurred while traveling en route to Santo Domingo in a rural and small towns around the Cibao. We also learn of instances of fear of military attacks or theft, since Mackenzie's travel party later in their journey have to convince an old black woman and her grandson to trade with them, initially fearing soldiers attempting to rob them (242). Likewise, while in Bani, someone tells Mackenzie that the military are in the habit of never paying for supplies when traveling, another indication of the unpopular military taking advantage of rural areas (306). However, some of these colonels and generals overseeing different regions and towns were of Spanish descent or had Spanish names, so western Haitians cannot be blamed for all military excess or abuse (314). All this seems to suggest the chance of soldiers engaged in marauding the rural population, something Mackenzie describes occurring a few times in the western half of the island, since some commandants and military officials were persistent in their attempts to enforce Boyer's Code Rural or just take advantage of rural areas. On the question of slaves who were freed as a result of Haitian abolition, we get a mixed bag where some retained very close ties to their masters while others pursued the soldier path for Haiti. He states the following on the former slaves while in St. Jago (Santiago):

Since the revolution and the establishment of the republican government, great fidelity had been displayed by the former slaves to their masters. They had never been numerous, the discipline never very rigorous, nor had the labour exacted been ever severe. One of the old proprietors, who, from having no other resource, remained with his wife and family, informed me that not one of the former slaves on a small sugar property near to the town had left him; that they retained all the old customs, called him still "Amo," and asked his blessing on their knees whenever he visited them. I had been told that in other parts of Spanish Santo Domingo, the slaves, who had been equally well treated with those of St. Jago, had, on the first proclamation of freedom, abandoned their masters to become soldiers, as being a more luxurious life (214).

So, we know that some ex-slaves abandoned their masters and became soldiers, which implies serving in the Haitian military. We also have evidence that the blacks of Santiago distinguished themselves from Haitians, "aquellos negros," which may reflect the close relationship of slaves to their masters in that town and white dissatisfaction overall rather than any general resentment or anti-black social distancing. Memories of Christophe's alleged atrocities committed during an 1805 invasion may also play a role here (213). In addition, the decline of the cattle trade due to Haitian suppression of free communication may have contributed to anti-Haitian sentiments among Santiago's citizens, particularly in a region where the 'castes' were mostly friendly and lacked any anti-white bias, or so Mackenzie reports (215). Furthermore, the Haitian state's appointed teacher for Santiago, was incompetent so the only school in the area was unstaffed, which may have contributed to unhappiness and bitterness toward their western neighbors (233). This region, however, is important, since it comprised about 1/6 of the the entire population of the eastern part of Haiti, with about 11,056 inhabitants of Santiago and its environs. 

While traveling toward the Ozama river, Mackenzie also met an ignorant, lower-class man, whose race is not clearly stated, who he describes in the following manner:

It seems that he procured his provisions at some distance from his residence, and that he sought them only once a-week. Now, if he sold his weekly stock, he would be obliged to make another journey, which he did not choose to do, although he had leisure enough to make it each day in the week. Profoundly ignorant, my host could give no information on any subject ; yet he spoke of his western neighbours with contempt, as inferior to himself and his countrymen of the east (242).

2. As for elites and other sectors of eastern society, such as clerical authorities and monastic communities Mackenzie interviewed in Santo Domingo, we have some clear signs of opposition or indifference to Haitian rule. For instance, the archbishop never took an oath of allegiance to the new government nor did he accept the salary offered to him by the republic (252). The university was also defunct due to lack of funding and government support, unlike the Spanish crown, which financed universities in their colonies (253). According to Mackenzie, these clerical authorities and officials formerly connected to the university believed that "the object of the existing government is to keep the people in a state of ignorance and barbarism, in order to facilitate the management of them" (254). Such an impression is an apt one, and speaks to not only Spanish Santo Domingo but also western Haiti, where the only educated people Mackenzie encountered were either members of the mulatto or colored class and those in the north educated during Christophe's reign and often competent in English. To their credit, the Haitian government, through the commandant Borgella, who oversaw Santo Domingo and its environs, they did maintain two hospitals in the city and active printing presses (267).

Mackenzie's description of Santo Domingo's racial diversity and conflict between soldiers from the west and resident priests are also useful for painting a picture of social relations in Haitian Santo Domingo:

The population is very mixed, consisting of all the classes and castes that are to be seen in the other parts of the island. The number of foreigners is considerably smaller, however, than at Port-au-Prince, Cayes, or the Cape; while the proportion of native whites and coloured people considerably exceeds that of the blacks. There did not appear to me to exist to the same extent as elsewhere, the prejudices which form so inveterate an obstacle to the consolidation of the Haitians as a nation having only one common feeling. I chiefly remarked that there was a considerable dislike between the resident priesthood and the soldiery from the west ; the one party regarding the other as a band of men without religion or principle, while they were deemed a set of fanatic bigots. All outward show of rancour has been subdued by General Borgella's adroit management of very discordant materials (269).

This tells us that Santo Domingo's racial diversity did not seem lead to as much prejudice based on color, and Through it all, Mackenzie expressed a belief in the capabilities of General Borgella and the passage of time to remedy some of the issues facing Santo Domingo, such as labor shortages, lack of capital, and Spanish inhabitants' resistance to the government (282). The Haitian government also met some of the demands of white easterners through the creation of loopholes allowing for white ownership of land, despite the troubling constitutional article, something Mackenzie sees as a white bill of rights for the east (290). That could not address all grievances of the easterners, however, since military service wherein the son of a western Haitian was more likely to advance made military conscription unpopular and the imposition of French instead of Spanish unsurprisingly made things worse (291). Other grievances include the lack of compensation for emancipated slaves, property liquidations, and imposing some of the debt for the French indemnity in exchange for France's recognition on "disfranchised Spaniards," which contributed to local resistance where the state's response was banishment and violence (292).

Clearly, Mackenzie's account of Haiti in the 1820s provides interesting and useful commentary for analysts of the complexities of race, class, linguistic, urban, rural, religious, and military characteristics of both sides of the island. The voices of the ex-slaves and black and colored eastern Haitians are rather silenced in Mackenzie's account, yet we have acknowledgement and support on the part of many eastern Haitians for being part of the Haitian state. Where there is opposition to the Haitian state, it's often based on things the Haitian state did on both sides of the island, not any singular persecution or anti-white bias of Boyer's government. Indeed, Mackenzie comments on white, Spanish-descended colonels and representatives in the Haitian government, which contradicts any facile interpretation of this period as one of Haitian imperialist aggressors (though there definitely is contempt for western Haitians on the part of some segments or regions of the east, particularly in Santiago and among the clerical community.

I plan on reading more sources from this period to better reconstruct how the popular classes perceived their western neighbors, so watch out!

A Glimpse of Saint-Domingue

“In Saint-Domingue everything takes on a character of opulence such as to astonish Europeans."

Médéric Louis Élie Moreau de Saint-Méry, lawyer and product of colonial Martinique and Saint-Domingue whose Description of the French and Spanish parts of Hispaniola, of epic length, is of great importance to scholars. His writing so far strikes me as essentializing different racial groups in Saint-Domingue as well as thought-provoking for his commentary on social relations, dance, Vaudoux, and the cities and towns of the French colony. Apparently he is a relative of Josephine, wife of Napoleon. I recently read The Civilization That Perished, which is an abridged and translated copy of his aforementioned work. Anywho, the following are some enlightening things about Saint-Domingue, future Haiti.

1. Although lacking universities like the Spanish colonies, cities such as Le Cap (Cap Francais) featured a Royal Society of the Sciences and Arts and other learned organizations, including an active theater scene, where seatings were racially segregated, of course. Slaves were around 2/3 of the population of Le Cap, about 10,000! Port-au-Prince, though made the capital of the colony, was described as a "camp of Tartars" by Moreau de Saint-Méry and seen as lacking the splendor, design, and feel of a more capable and beautiful city, such as Le Cap. In addition to theaters and schools of reading, writing, and arithmetic, colonial cities were tied to the Atlantic world's commerce, via trade with British colonies, Curacao (particularly Jacmel), and other parts of the world. The global economy was becoming more and more connected, and one can see such a phenomenon in Saint-Domingue, where free women of color and slave women wore Madras cloth and (the more fortunate, that is) finer materials from Persia and India. The prospect of learning in Saint-Domingue seemed to have been worsened by the expulsion of the Jesuits in the mid-18th century. With men such as Father Boutin, they were responsible for studying African languages as well as proselytizing among the slaves.

2. Slave culture among African and Creole slaves in Saint-Domingue reveals the deep divisions and gaps in understanding between slaves of different origins. According to Moreau de Saint-Méry, Creole slaves referred to African-born slaves as "horses" or beasts of burden as an insult, and looked down upon them. He also claims that Negroes born in the colony gradually gained less "Negroid" features over time and seems to favor slavery for showing "domestication's" beneficial impact on blacks. Needless to say, such sentiments are highly disturbing and racist, and even though the author abhorred the treatment of pregnant slaves or the blind prejudice against free people of color, his own slaveholding personal interests are never mentioned.

3. He does describe "Vaudoux" as a dance and snake cult from what is now Benin, as well as the chica and calenda dances of slaves. Their skills as musicians also deserve mention, particularly in drums, violins, the banza, as well as their interest in European dances such as the minuet. Overwhelmingly, the portrait of blacks, particularly those from Africa, is one of superstitious, lazy, stupefied by European manufactured products (such as mirrors), poor with arithmetic and unable to give their precise age, ignorant, feeble-minded, polygamous, careless, and thieving. He also claims that 1/4 of all blacks sold into slavery from Africa were accused of witchcraft, the blacks worship fetishes (crude wooden statues, which sound like nkissi figures from Central Africa), the Creole slaves were smarter and preferred for domestic and skilled labour, mulatto slaves were almost exclusively domestic and considered themselves above blacks, and the Africans who spoke about their homeland loved it. He goes on to say that Negroes were capable of full emotions and some showed complete loyalty to their masters, as well as defending the Creole/Kreyol language as better-suited than French for expressing certain things. Interestingly, slaves of Amerindian origin were also illegally present in Saint Domingue, from Natchez, Lousiana, Canada, Guianas, the Caribs, and elsewhere. As mentioned previously,  woman’s headdresses were important; slave women loved undergarments and muslins from India/Persia and slave women shared clothes. I am surprised no one has researched clothing and dress among slave women and free women in Saint-Domingue, it sounds like an understudied but fascinating field for elucidating constructs of gender, class, status, and style in a colony where opulence and excess are always referenced.

4. Some of the problems of today's Haiti clearly arose in the colonial period. Soil erosion, for instance, was already severe by 1791. Epidemics of smallpox and other diseases, as well as earthquakes struck Saint-Domingue, too, including one that destroyed Port-au-Prince in 1770. Droughts, soil exhaustion, epidemics, and earthquakes made the profitable colony of Saint-Domingue a dangerous place and suggests a precarious future. Perhaps this is why Fumagalli asserts that Moreau de Saint-Méry and other French Saint-Dominguans envisioned taking over Spanish Santo Domingo to expand the plantation complex into the eastern half of the island. With increasing soil exhaustion and a sense of impending ecological doom from the plantation system within the small French colony on the island, expansion into Spanish Santo Domingo would be a rational decision. These issues also illustrate how the independent nation of Haiti inherited problems from European colonial destruction of the environment, which has worsened conditions for the independent states of the region. In my opinion, too often has this fact been conveniently 'forgotten' as a contributor to soil erosion, deforestation, and other signs of environmental change.

Naturally, one should be skeptical of many of de Saint-Méry's claims, particularly on the slaves, given his biases and prejudice as a slaveholder himself. However, his text is excessively detailed and informative on the economic, urban, rural, social, environmental, racial, and cultural factors at play. One should read his text with an open mind and analyze some of the postcolonial legacies inherited by Haiti, particularly how the color/caste system created the conditions under which Saint-Domingue would perish as well as those through which it would linger in Haiti. If I ever learn to read French properly, or if de Saint-Méry is ever fully translated, I hope to tackle his description of Spanish Hispaniola. 

Thoughts on The District Six Museum

The District 6 Museum was a little underwhelming. It’s about the former community of working-class, mostly Coloured people living near downtown Cape Town and the harbor, which was demolished and its inhabitants forcibly relocated to the Cape Flats to live in squalor in townships such as Manenberg or Mitchell’s Plain. I was expecting perhaps more innovative or interesting displays, which the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg featured heavily through video, audio, and a plethora of visuals. We took part of it briefly, a tour guide, a former activist and self-proclaimed pan-Africanist, a Coloured Man who claimed to have been a follower of Robert Sobukwe, but in reality was perhaps a little too old and losing his memory and engaged in an conversation with my friend, Sizwe, that almost turned into an argument over nothing.

And these white South Africans in the group included an older woman who clearly had a lot of guilt for apartheid and slavery, since she on two or three occasions ensured the Coloured tour guide that NOT ALL white people supported apartheid and neither was she responsible for the man’s great-grandmother being a slave! Needless to say, that was a little awkward. Anyway, the museum was not as small as I thought, but the displays were often full of boring text, and, at times, were not explained in great detail. It was, as one would expect, a ‘traditional’ museum but lacking in enough depth and scope on District 6 to truly move me, despite the ugly history of forced relocation, racism, and segregation that parallel experiences of people of color in the US so well.

Highlights of the museum included watching children eat a meal while their teachers stood by, watching my friend almost get into an argument with the old tour guide over nothing because the latter kept talking down to him as if he was a fool, and pictures from houses, community institutions, and families that once lived in the area. The museum is one of those trips you 'have' to do in Cape Town, and I am sure for those less informed on the history of forced removals in apartheid South Africa, it will be more informative and educational. It is undeniably an emotional experience in some way, especially as one can see the names of people whose lives were forever altered written at the museum, as well as replicas and pictures of former houses in the area that illustrate the strong community that inhabited the region. Personally, I prefer the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, but this is a nice start.

All pictures courtesy of my friend, Sizwe, who fortunately brought his camera with him when we visited the museum.