Urbanities,
Vol. 4
·
No 2
·
November 2014
© 2014
Urbanities
77
we had some hash with us. When we got off there were police with sniffer dogs
who found the dope and arrested us. My girlfriend said the dope was hers, even
though it wasn’t true. She did it so I wouldn’t get into trouble, but they’d already
checked our documents and had discovered I was there illegally. Every time I
think of that day I curse myself for being so stupid. I probably ruined my life for
the sake of a little bit of dope. I remember when I got back to Cape Town I saw
Long Street and I had the impression that I’d reached the end of my road. I don’t
really know how to explain it, but it’s as if I’d seen that my life would end here.
Strangely enough, I ended up living here, where I’d had this feeling. Long Street
has become my home.’
Although Louis considers Long Street his home, the street itself rejects him and makes
him feel like an outsider.
On the day of the final Louis was on Long Street as usual; he had not managed to get
into any of the bars or clubs and was following the match from the street. He said, ‘That
evening I was supporting Manchester United, because in England I’d met a guy who
supported them and out of solidarity I’d decided to do the same. Recalling the happy times I’d
spent in England helped me get out of the hell where I’d ended up.’
A Township Girl
I met Xolewa in an internet café on Long Street where she went to check her email. When I
asked where she was living, she said, ‘
In Khayelitsha. Do you still want to talk to me
?’.
Khayelitsha is the largest township in Cape Town and the second-largest in South Africa after
Soweto. Khayelitsha means ‘new home’ in the Xhosa language. The people who live in the
township come mainly from different areas of South Africa, above all from the Eastern Cape.
The migrants who arrive in Khayelitsha establish informal settlements, building their new
houses, or rather shacks, here. During the Apartheid years the townships were dormitory areas
where the blacks who formed part of the city’s workforce were permitted to reside and to
which they had to return in the evening.
In the post-Apartheid period the townships remained segregated areas of the city.
Despite the recent improvements the government had made to these areas, a high level of
crime and social marginality continued to plague the population of these urban areas.
Nevertheless, the townships gave their inhabitants a sense of belonging and identification
with the territory, which, in certain respects, was reassuring. Xolewa explained to me that for
many young blacks heading into the city centre means entering a ‘foreign territory’, which for
many years belonged to the whites and which, even now, is accessible only with difficulty.
Many of these people considered Long Street a ‘free zone’, accessible to people of all races,
but at the same time it was undiscovered territory. Xolewa explained to me how being black is
linked to the way everyday life is lived in these areas. She said, ‘The township is a world
apart. People speak Xhosa rather than English; the community is more important than the
individual; if you have a problem you don’t rely on the police to solve it for you, but the
village chief or, in other cases, a gangster. This is the blacks’ place, which doesn’t just mean
