Tomorrow I hike Table Mountain with Matt, Nick, and Tom(I can't really count how many times I've done this)--Every hike is amazing, either with fog shrinking visibility down to just meters in front of you, or bright clear days where you can see the entirety of Cape Town to the Hottentot-Holland mountains, shimmering scraggly blue on the distant horizon.
The difference is that we'll be hiking over night, where on the mountain during wintertime (it's the southern hemisphere) temperatures can sink to just above freezing. It should make for an interesting time, considering that when I was up last Friday, Tom and I made the horrible decision to hike down off trail in the dark. Climbing down cliff faces in the dark is not wise decision and leads to things like almost falling
As the semester winds down, I've found it difficult to find time to post. Now that finals are over for me (last one was Wednesday) and my probable pitiful performance in them (they were Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and I didn't really study), I should have a bit more time to post. A post is in order criticizing UCT's course setup...
Friday, May 28, 2010
The De Doorns saga continues
PASSOP has been rather interesting lately. Negotiations have been ongoing with the Western Cape Provincial Government (WCPG) about the lawful/unlawful proposed eviction of residents of the De Doorns Refugee Camp, mediated by the South Africa Human Rights Commission. Being in government meetings and playing a role as an intern where you actually are important and have to think on your toes rather than make coffee is quite hectic!
Government wanted to close the camp by May 31st and give the residents the options of:
1.Assisted Repatriation
2.Assisted Reintegration
3.Assisted Resettlement
4.Or, Lawful Eviction
There are between 361-430 residents remaining in the camp depending on who counts. At its inception there were 2,500+
The bone of contention is whether each Camp resident would be given R1000 to assist in options 1,2 or 3. PASSOP is fighting for that money, WCPG refuses to give it. There may be some precedent for the cash payment: members of the Bluewaters camp were ordered to be given the money by a judicial ruling. However, the status of De Doorns refugees is somewhat different so this ruling might not apply. WCPG also contends that a cash payment may inflame residents of the impoverished local townships (If they see sums of money being given to foreigners: Zimbabweans...)
There are other issues. Allegations are that from PASSOP and the De Doorns camp committee (consisting of elected residents of the Camp (Government suspects that they may not be fairly elected--PASSOP asserts they were) that residents have had their belongings thrown out of tents and their tents removed unlawfully. WCPG contends that some of these resident may have unrightfully claimed tents after their original occupants left. Further complications are over a headcount. WCPG claims 361 residents are there based on a night headcount (when the workers return) and has forbidden entry to all those not on that list. PASSOP contends that this is still incomplete as many workers spend overnight at the farms for work. PASSOP claims that intimidation has been used by municipal officials (different from provincial government) to get the refugees to leave. The logistics of returning the refugees back to Zim or to local townships is mind bogglingly complex. WCPG, frustrated with PASSOP, wants to bypass PASSOP and negotiate with the refugees on an individual level.
Personal tensions have flared up between lead actors on either side (no names), and antagonism only makes these issues more intractable. I cannot say that I endorse either view and cannot attest to the veracity of claims on either side, nor write what I really think of the negotiations because of possible implications.
The issue may well go to court in a long and protracted legal battle. The true losers are the refugees, whose farm contracts have ended and who must now wait as their field of dirt turns to mud in the winter rains. As their money runs out for food. And as they remain at the camp with few options and little hope.
The toilets.
Fire in a box. One of the only ways to get cooking done. Obviously very dangerous
Looking at the Camp..
One of the only water taps. Not all that sanitary.
.
.
.
.
Government wanted to close the camp by May 31st and give the residents the options of:
1.Assisted Repatriation
2.Assisted Reintegration
3.Assisted Resettlement
4.Or, Lawful Eviction
There are between 361-430 residents remaining in the camp depending on who counts. At its inception there were 2,500+
The bone of contention is whether each Camp resident would be given R1000 to assist in options 1,2 or 3. PASSOP is fighting for that money, WCPG refuses to give it. There may be some precedent for the cash payment: members of the Bluewaters camp were ordered to be given the money by a judicial ruling. However, the status of De Doorns refugees is somewhat different so this ruling might not apply. WCPG also contends that a cash payment may inflame residents of the impoverished local townships (If they see sums of money being given to foreigners: Zimbabweans...)
There are other issues. Allegations are that from PASSOP and the De Doorns camp committee (consisting of elected residents of the Camp (Government suspects that they may not be fairly elected--PASSOP asserts they were) that residents have had their belongings thrown out of tents and their tents removed unlawfully. WCPG contends that some of these resident may have unrightfully claimed tents after their original occupants left. Further complications are over a headcount. WCPG claims 361 residents are there based on a night headcount (when the workers return) and has forbidden entry to all those not on that list. PASSOP contends that this is still incomplete as many workers spend overnight at the farms for work. PASSOP claims that intimidation has been used by municipal officials (different from provincial government) to get the refugees to leave. The logistics of returning the refugees back to Zim or to local townships is mind bogglingly complex. WCPG, frustrated with PASSOP, wants to bypass PASSOP and negotiate with the refugees on an individual level.
Personal tensions have flared up between lead actors on either side (no names), and antagonism only makes these issues more intractable. I cannot say that I endorse either view and cannot attest to the veracity of claims on either side, nor write what I really think of the negotiations because of possible implications.
The issue may well go to court in a long and protracted legal battle. The true losers are the refugees, whose farm contracts have ended and who must now wait as their field of dirt turns to mud in the winter rains. As their money runs out for food. And as they remain at the camp with few options and little hope.
The toilets.
Fire in a box. One of the only ways to get cooking done. Obviously very dangerous
Looking at the Camp..
One of the only water taps. Not all that sanitary.
.
.
.
.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Land of Curry and Spice
Welcome to Durban, the land of Curry and Spice where everything is nice.
On the edge of the tarmac we got into our car, a piece of shit Kia Picanto. The airport, which had opened only two weeks earlier, had a clean shine for the world cup.
And we got the hell out of Durban.
We took our car up to Pietermaritzburg, the historic capital of the KwaZulu Natal Region. From there we progressed to the Drakensberg (lit: "Dragon Mountains" in Afrikaans) to our backpacker led by a curious man named Ed. The Drakensberg are a stunning mountain chain that hug the border of Lesotho and are rightly a UNESCO World Heritage Site. They helped protect the kingdom in its recurring wars with the British Empire.
Fantastic hiking is what the area is known for. Tranquil mountain valleys and plateaus overlooking an infinite land define the mountain chain. We spent two nights and hiked both days there.
Our second day we drove to an area named "The Amphitheatre," for the formation the mountains make. There we hiked to view Tugela Falls, the second highest waterfall in the world. And once we stood at the end of the path, a giant boulder and sheer cliff walls blocked us any further and we looked at where the falls were but we saw nothing because of the heavy fog.
-------
That same day we trekked up to Swaziland, only to find the border post closed. 8pm. One remaining border post closed at 10pm, an hour and a half away.
Two police bakkies pulled us over as we accelerated down abandoned back roads to the last border post, our Kia Picanto struggling to maintain speed up hills. A routine stop, though they were confused why three Americans would be traveling in North-Eastern SA near the border.
As we sped up again, a sign warned us, "High Crime Area: DO NOT Stop." We made it to the border post at 9:30 to find the South African side a chaotic mess: people frantically pushing each other get their passports through to the two open tellers. No semblance of a line. No semblance of order. Typical.
At 10:10 we made it to the Swazi side where calmness and order presided.
There's not a whole heck of a lot to do in Swaziland.
Declared "TBA" on the Swazi calendar is the famed reed festival where the king has every girl aged 15-19 walk to his palace (yes, walk from the entire country) to dance half naked for him. He then selects one to be his new wife. King Mswati currently has 14 wives and 23 children.
We stayed in the Mlilanwe Nature Reserve, a beautiful park where you can drive and walk around seeing animals such as Zebra. From there we visited the capital city of Mbabane, walked up and down the main street, and declared that there was not much more to see.
We saw the Sibebe rock, the largest hard rock in the world. The gate guard was quick to inform us that the largest rock in the world (in Australia) didn't really count because it was sandstone. As we all know, only granite is real rock.
We got to the entrance to climb it and were told we would have to pay. "But for you, I could charge local rates," the guard said. Still, no.
After two nights we booked it down to Durban, spent the night there trying to find good curry and spent a little (though definitely not enough) time on the beach. Gorgeous! Unlike most of SA it’s warm in the winter, being on the Indian Ocean coast. The city has a distinct vibe from the rest of SA, with a touch of the subcontinent due to the indentured servants brought over from India to work the sugar cane fields.
Pictures to follow
On the edge of the tarmac we got into our car, a piece of shit Kia Picanto. The airport, which had opened only two weeks earlier, had a clean shine for the world cup.
And we got the hell out of Durban.
We took our car up to Pietermaritzburg, the historic capital of the KwaZulu Natal Region. From there we progressed to the Drakensberg (lit: "Dragon Mountains" in Afrikaans) to our backpacker led by a curious man named Ed. The Drakensberg are a stunning mountain chain that hug the border of Lesotho and are rightly a UNESCO World Heritage Site. They helped protect the kingdom in its recurring wars with the British Empire.
Fantastic hiking is what the area is known for. Tranquil mountain valleys and plateaus overlooking an infinite land define the mountain chain. We spent two nights and hiked both days there.
Our second day we drove to an area named "The Amphitheatre," for the formation the mountains make. There we hiked to view Tugela Falls, the second highest waterfall in the world. And once we stood at the end of the path, a giant boulder and sheer cliff walls blocked us any further and we looked at where the falls were but we saw nothing because of the heavy fog.
-------
That same day we trekked up to Swaziland, only to find the border post closed. 8pm. One remaining border post closed at 10pm, an hour and a half away.
Two police bakkies pulled us over as we accelerated down abandoned back roads to the last border post, our Kia Picanto struggling to maintain speed up hills. A routine stop, though they were confused why three Americans would be traveling in North-Eastern SA near the border.
As we sped up again, a sign warned us, "High Crime Area: DO NOT Stop." We made it to the border post at 9:30 to find the South African side a chaotic mess: people frantically pushing each other get their passports through to the two open tellers. No semblance of a line. No semblance of order. Typical.
At 10:10 we made it to the Swazi side where calmness and order presided.
There's not a whole heck of a lot to do in Swaziland.
Declared "TBA" on the Swazi calendar is the famed reed festival where the king has every girl aged 15-19 walk to his palace (yes, walk from the entire country) to dance half naked for him. He then selects one to be his new wife. King Mswati currently has 14 wives and 23 children.
We stayed in the Mlilanwe Nature Reserve, a beautiful park where you can drive and walk around seeing animals such as Zebra. From there we visited the capital city of Mbabane, walked up and down the main street, and declared that there was not much more to see.
We saw the Sibebe rock, the largest hard rock in the world. The gate guard was quick to inform us that the largest rock in the world (in Australia) didn't really count because it was sandstone. As we all know, only granite is real rock.
We got to the entrance to climb it and were told we would have to pay. "But for you, I could charge local rates," the guard said. Still, no.
After two nights we booked it down to Durban, spent the night there trying to find good curry and spent a little (though definitely not enough) time on the beach. Gorgeous! Unlike most of SA it’s warm in the winter, being on the Indian Ocean coast. The city has a distinct vibe from the rest of SA, with a touch of the subcontinent due to the indentured servants brought over from India to work the sugar cane fields.
Pictures to follow
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