Cape Town: A Confused 22-year-old
The modern state of South Africa is as old as me — 22 years old. I hardly have anything figured out. From who I am, to where I fit in this crazy world, “finding myself” is the catchphrase that I share with this country.
Day 5 in the Cape Town. Searching for purpose. Yearning for an answer to the difficult questions. Race. Identity. Inequality. Social responsibility. Poverty. Privilege. Money. Space. But, the result is the realization that the most I can strive to walk away with is just a better look at how I see the world.
1. Understanding my time in Cape Town will not change the lives of the people I come to know.
Observing. Asking questions. Challenging previous perceptions that myself and others came to this space holding. This is the best use of my time.
The savior mentality — those who understand this disease don’t need it explained, those who don’t understand it have a tendency of exhibiting some degree of this practice. Regardless of understanding, we all are guilty of exhibiting some varied combination of ignorance, privilege, and power. Knowing this and actively seeking the ramifications of this behavior, I know that any exertion of my influence, way of doing things, and even presence does not entitle me to expect, or even think, that I will impact the lives of those around me to any degree.
Don’t take this to be a call for validity, simply put, this is me stating the reality as it should be. I know that I am guilty of this in the past, but for myself, I have come to see that traveling, working, or existing to “impact lives” (or some variation of this) lacks direction and accountability. I have used this vague description for the purpose of my life for years, and it’s time I called myself out.
2. Understanding that no matter what I do here, I will be walking away having taken more than I can give.
The work I do and the projects I complete help to relieve the work load of certain individuals. However, what I learn, observe, and the space that I occupy cost far more. In understanding this, accepting that my existence in this space — no matter if I come with a good heart and good intensions — is selfish and a burden on those around me.
3. Understanding that the history of this place is not mine, but only mine to learn from.
Langa Pass Station. District 6. Apartheid.
The history of South Africa is complex and the wounds of the country are far from healing. It would be wrong for me to speak on behalf of the history of this country. I am conflicted in drawing parallels between South Africa’s history and America’s Civil Rights movements.
Conflict of emotion. Conflict of identity. When we learn about events in the past, why do we feel sad and angry? These are the facts, this is how we learn to not make the same mistakes in the future.
“Why are you sad? Don’t be sad…we are not sad. This is our history. This tells us where we have come from. This is not where we are today. All of it is water under the bridge…” — Alfred (tour guide)
Note: originally posted in June 2012 while studying inSouth Africa. Deactivated previous account and migrated this post.
