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A number of factors may have enhanced the mythological status
of these trips in my friend’s estimation: their proximity
to anticipation-filled Christmas and Easter holidays, the sense
of entering an alien, more luxurious world from which she was
normally excluded, the aura of wonder and novelty that so often
clings to childhood memories. As one with no real basis of comparison,
such excursions remain an adventure for me especially when I remember
to look with "new eyes."
The centre of Cape Town is at its busiest on Saturday mornings.
The shops are open from 9:00 a.m. until 1:00 p.m.—lunchtime
in this part of the world. Walking down Long Street, one is struck
immediately by the architecture. Victorian buildings with their
jutting balconies and intricate "broekie lace" ironwork
create an intermittently colonnaded sidewalk, interspersed with
some fairly uninspired modern and more interesting post-modern
facades. The area is the current heart of the city’s nightlife,
and the buildings are crammed with restaurants, backpackers’
hostels, Internet cafes, bars and clubs, secondhand (i.e., junk)
shops, antiquarian book dealers, clothing boutiques and just about
anything else you can imagine. The street also houses the "Pan
African Market," a multi-story polyglot emporium of stalls
run by entrepreneurs from all over Africa. The cuisine on offer
is equally eclectic: African (including the delightfully named
"Khaya Nyama"—House of Meat), Japanese, Moroccan,
Thai, Spanish, Nepalese, Mexican (well...), to name a few.
And the people! Trendy young "ravers" hang out in a
vegetarian sidewalk café—just yards away from a ragged
cluster of the alarming number of children who live, literally,
on the city’s streets. One minute, you encounter a large
woman with an infant secured to her back with a blanket and a
parcel on her head (and, quite possibly, talking on a cell phone);
the next, you pass a slender young woman with spikey, shocking
pink hair, a frilly blouse and bell-bottoms. (The fashion trends
of the 60s, 70s and 80s seem to have been put into a blender,
set to "puree.") "Car guards" some wearing
flourescent security vests provided by local merchants who have
solicited their services, others operating freelance roam their
(self) appointed beats, living off of gratuities from drivers
who return to find their cars intact. Young men and women, many
immigrants from other parts of the continent, hawk snacks, cigarettes,
and even clothing, bags, and small electrical goods from sidewalk
tables all around town. A growing cadre of vendors sells "The
Big Issue," a monthly magazine that gives homeless or unemployed
people a way to support themselves.
Then there are the buskers. During the week, you see the odd
guitarist or penny-whistle (a popular jazz instrument in South
Africa, sort of a cross between a flute and a recorder) player
hopefully serenading audiences, especially at lunchtime. There
is even what appears to be a family combo, complete with Junior
on the drum kit, that sets up in the pedestrian mall some days.
On Saturdays, though, you get the choirs. On a good Saturday morning
in summer, you can find probably as many as a dozen church and
community choirs on street corners around the city centre. The
one I ran across yesterday was typical: about thirty uniformed
choristers energetically singing mostly Xhosa (language) hymns
and gospel music a capella in four-part harmony whilst being photographed
and videoed with equal vigour by a busload of enthralled tourists.
The donations they collect from passers-by might help to finance
robes, instruments, or various church or choir activities.
Their music was not only an uplifting soundtrack for my journey,
but also a reminder of how central and visible faith is in the
lives of many Capetonians. And not just Christians. As if to remind
me of this additional aspect of the city’s diversity, my
route has also taken me past one of the city’s many mosques
from whence one can hear the haunting call to prayer at dawn and
dusk. I’ve also passed within a block or so of the Great
Synagogue which remains a hub of social and spiritual life for
Cape Town’s active Jewish community.
South Africa’s diversity can be a source of social friction.
In recent months, for example, a local celebrity stirred much
controversy by recording a song that inflamed longstanding tensions
between black and Indian communities. But, more often, this diversity
is a rich resource, creating unique opportunities for creativity
and growth. As the World Summit for Sustainable Development gets
underway in Johannesburg, we are being exposed to a variety of
stories about unusual partnerships and new ways of applying traditional
knowledge that have produced more effective and lasting solutions
to social, health and environmental problems. A walk through Cape
Town illustrates both the magnitude of the problems yet to be
resolved as well as the energy and gifts which South Africans
can contribute to the task.
Please remember the World Summit in your prayers; pray that it
renews our collective commitment to honouring the integrity of
God’s creation and identifies practical ways of realising
this vision. Please pray, too, for relief and hope for the millions
in southern and central Africa who are threatened by famine.
Grace and peace,
Doug Tilton
The 2002 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 46
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