We knew we were close to Durban when the townships began. It was chilly, and the smoke from the wood fires hung over the metal roofs like low-lying clouds.
A law student friend of mine was working in a legal clinic there, and we stayed with her for a few days in a cottage apartment behind this huge house on the top of a hill.
It was a relief to finally stay with a friend, to be around Americans, and, frankly, since my friend and her roommate were white, to not have to approach going out with trepidation. We'd already had one yucky encounter with non-service in Plettenberg Bay and weren't looking forward to the next one.
We went with my friend to a gay bar, where a baby dyke tried to pick her up, though she was only straight person in the place. A white fag was chatting us up as we were leaving, crying, "Shame!" as we insisted it was late and we had to go. To encourage us, he went to put his arm around Naomi, but caught himself and put it quickly back down.
Durban is pretty, slightly safer than Cape Town and Jo'burg, and there are lots of Indian people there. It was also where we got our introduction to SA mall culture. In Durban and beyond, people were constantly encouraging us to go to the mall -- in this case the largest mall in Southern Africa, Umhlanga (pron. oom-shlanga). Instead, we went to the new aquarium, named after Zulu King Shaka.
No comments:
Post a Comment