After a disappointingly uneventful weekend (that was also very peaceful and relaxing), I actually did something today!
I called the man Songo that I had been meaning to call all weekend. My supervisor at ISOS-Kayamandi Project strongly recommended that my partner Adam and I take a walking tour of Kayamandi with a man who knew more than anyone else alive about the township.
He gave us Songo's number. Adam didn't really follow up on it, even though he was supposed to, so that he would get the better price. (I don't think I've mentioned on this blog how frustrating it is to be female sometimes). The entire dramatic narrative of how the tour was finally arranged is probably unnecessary, so I'll skip to the part where we arrived at the tourist center of Kayamandi.
Songo wasn't there. Songo didn't answer his cell, and hadn't replied to my earlier text. So we wandered outside the building, hoping to flag down our driver on his way back to Stellenbosch. A man on a bike passed us and said "christina?"
and i said "yes, songo?"
adam under his breath muttered with a smile that it was a good thing we were the only two confused-looking white people in the entire area...
Songo locked his bike inside the building and we started walking.
Kayamandi has about 33,000 residents, with an unemployment rate of over 50%. It was originally established in the 1940s when The Group Areas Act was passed. People from Stellenbosch, Cloetesville, Idas Valley and other smaller towns in regions were kicked out of their houses and forcibly removed to their respective areas (black or colored). The black area was Kayamandi. There are some families in Kayamandi who have been here since the 40s. As time went on, migrant men were allowed to come to find work. They stayed in hostels. After the pass laws (which dictated movement, if you were allowed to leave the "homelands" or come into a white area or do anything of your own accord, basically) were repealed in 1990, families were allowed to come join the men. There is no work or development in the "homelands" (now Eastern Cape), so its the choice between rural poverty and urban poverty.
We visited 2 hostels. People still live in them. Each room was around 8 x 10 ft. (2.5x3m for sander and stefen). There would be two bunk beds in each room. After the pass laws were repealed, there would be 2-4 families in each rooom. one for each twin-sized bed. In the first hostel that we went to, there were men constructing plywood walls (3/4 inch), and painting them blue. Apparently an American had gone home and raised money so that the curtains dividing each room could be replaced with wood. There are just two beds in each room now, I don't know where the bunks went.
In the other hostel, owned by a winery, was built well, and each of the rooms had doors. There still were two families living on two beds in each room. Thats ten families living in a building smaller than my house at home. The families share toilets, a kitchen, and a living room.
...
I also got to see some of my girls as they were getting out of school, which was exciting. On our way back down the hill, I asked Songo what the biggest problems were for Kayamandi. He said housing, unemployment, and maybe AIDS. (>1 in 4 pregnant mothers are infected). Most people live in shacks (informal settlements) but there are houses too. The government has slowly been building the housing that it promised. They have build 600 homes since the end of apartheid. Its been 15 years. There are 33,000 people. Average monthly income in Kayamandi is R1500 ($150). To qualify for gov't housing, you need to earn less that R3500. So basically everyone qualifies. There are also a lot of fires amongst the shacks and you have to walk to common toilets and to get water. Its only like 500m (~500 yards) though, and the kids at the afterschool program talk about how much easier life is here than in Eastern Cape. In Eastern Cape, you would need to walk 5-6 km (a few miles) to get water from the river, which isn't a clean source. They much prefer life in Kayamandi.