At this time, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who made this remarkable trip possible. This trip was an extraordinary gift that is rarely afforded to stage actors. I hope we'll do you proud.
Thank you to the funders who trusted us and believed in our intensions and the significance of this trip in creating our BLOOD KNOT.
Thank you to everybody at A.C.T. who worked so hard on the logistics of this trip.
Thank you, SAJ, for being such a great companion. Our journey has just begun.
And especially, everyone in Cape Town who guided us, taught us, and shared your communities, homes, stories, spirits and humanity with us so generously - THANK YOU! I hope our paths cross somewhere in the future.
I can't wait to share with all of you the photos, videos and voices we collected during our visit (with the help of the A.C.T. IT team, of course).
Next - Prague? ; )
Jack
Showing posts with label posts by JACK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label posts by JACK. Show all posts
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Questions
(1) Why is pale better?
(2) Can we forgive? - Others, ourselves?
(3) What is family?
(4) What is blood?
(2) Can we forgive? - Others, ourselves?
(3) What is family?
(4) What is blood?
Last Day - September 6, 2006
(1) One more trip to District Six Museum. More time with Noor. He talks about the word, “Boss.” He then points to the sky, and says,”I have only one Boss.”
(2) I pray here more than I have in years.
(3) For the first time, SAJ and I separate. I’m looking for St. George’s Cathedral and walk maybe a mile out of the way. Hopefully I got some great pictures. I am so sweaty and tired and everything is packed so I can’t change. It’s going to be a lovely flight home.
(4) Everyone at the hotel seems genuinely happy to have met us and sad to see us go. It must be SAJ.
(5) Easy drive to the airport.
(6) Great porter helping us with the luggage. He is a 5'6" soccer player from J’burg. This is just his day job.
(7) SAJ really messed up the luggage thing and must repack.
(8) I enjoy this immensely but I stay quiet as a good friend should do.
(9) Found a smoking lounge at the Cape Town Airport but it was closed for renovation. Walked in anyway. Two guys working. They didn’t seem to notice me. And I smoke to my heart’s content.
(10) Take off!
(11) Patches and Nicorette.
(12) Cape Town to London – 12 hours
(13) Heathrow – the biggest mall in the world – Tiffany’s, Herrod’s, Gucci’s etc. It seems obscene.
(14) London to SFO. This last leg of flight seems to take FOREVERRRRR.
(15) There it is, the Golden Gate Bridge. We are back!
(16) Caresa takes me home.
(17) My wife has food, iced tea, and vodka in the freezer. All waiting for me with a love note on each one. She will be home soon.
Family, blood, humanity.
Home
(2) I pray here more than I have in years.
(3) For the first time, SAJ and I separate. I’m looking for St. George’s Cathedral and walk maybe a mile out of the way. Hopefully I got some great pictures. I am so sweaty and tired and everything is packed so I can’t change. It’s going to be a lovely flight home.
(4) Everyone at the hotel seems genuinely happy to have met us and sad to see us go. It must be SAJ.
(5) Easy drive to the airport.
(6) Great porter helping us with the luggage. He is a 5'6" soccer player from J’burg. This is just his day job.
(7) SAJ really messed up the luggage thing and must repack.
(8) I enjoy this immensely but I stay quiet as a good friend should do.
(9) Found a smoking lounge at the Cape Town Airport but it was closed for renovation. Walked in anyway. Two guys working. They didn’t seem to notice me. And I smoke to my heart’s content.
(10) Take off!
(11) Patches and Nicorette.
(12) Cape Town to London – 12 hours
(13) Heathrow – the biggest mall in the world – Tiffany’s, Herrod’s, Gucci’s etc. It seems obscene.
(14) London to SFO. This last leg of flight seems to take FOREVERRRRR.
(15) There it is, the Golden Gate Bridge. We are back!
(16) Caresa takes me home.
(17) My wife has food, iced tea, and vodka in the freezer. All waiting for me with a love note on each one. She will be home soon.
Family, blood, humanity.
Home
Robben Island - September 5, 2007
(1) Pissing rain and soaked to the skin.
(2) What can you say? I think I’ll just let the recorded testimonies do the talking. You’ll see in here soon.
(3) Tears…but not of sadness. Tears of joy for the human spirit. Forgiveness? Maybe.
(4) Last night here. SAJ, thank you. I love you. You are an easy travel companion. A joy and a challenge.
(5) Quickly buying gifts for family and friends. Using phone card minutes. Packing, watching soccer. Dreading the flight home and 24 hours on the plane.
---
Robben Island:
(2) What can you say? I think I’ll just let the recorded testimonies do the talking. You’ll see in here soon.
(3) Tears…but not of sadness. Tears of joy for the human spirit. Forgiveness? Maybe.
(4) Last night here. SAJ, thank you. I love you. You are an easy travel companion. A joy and a challenge.
(5) Quickly buying gifts for family and friends. Using phone card minutes. Packing, watching soccer. Dreading the flight home and 24 hours on the plane.
---
Robben Island:
Townships-Day 2, September 4, 2007
Townships, Day 2
(1) Waiting for Songs. People going to work. The market across the street already set up. Cabbies waiting for a fare and playing cards using a dumpster as their table. Traffic and pedestrians daring the traffic to hit them.
(2) And once again, a warning to be careful. I know we are old, but do SAJ and I look vulnerable? This is vanity speaking.
(3) Miles of settlements and poor black townships lining the highway. It’s overwhelming. It’s numbing. The highways littered with everything. Garbage and thousands of old tires. Horse drawn carts picking up scrap metal. Songs says it is a common living here. Cages of chickens and women butchering them on the side of the road.
(4) Cape Flats, the area between the Table Mountain and the ocean. It stretches out for miles. One black township with 1.4 million people. Mainly one, sometimes two-room shelters crowded right next to one another – it just seems to go on forever.
(5) It’s so….and I can’t think of another word, numbing.
(6) I tell Songs I need to see the ocean. It is breathtaking. Cape Town is a city with a sea, flat lands, hills that lead to highland vineyards and mountains in the distance. It should be the sister city of San Francisco.
(7) We visit Rodney, also a musician friend of Songs, in the “coloured” township of Bellville South. It’s like a gated community compared to informal settlements or black townships. Kitchen, bath, living room, two bedrooms, garden in front, back yard with a garage and chihuahua that jumps all over the place. It’s the family home and he lives with his parents. Hell, I wouldn’t want to leave home neither.
(8) The disparity of life because of color… tint…hue… the spectrum of the rainbow…
(9) In America, there is this thing called “white guilt.” I experience that. And in South Africa, I think there is this thing called “coloured guilt.”
(10) Coloured, coloured, coloured
Black, black, black
White, white, white
(11) Raymond makes a lovely cup of tea.
(12) Raymond’s house has a wall between the toilet and the bath/bathroom sink. I use the toilet and upon exiting, his mother points out the bathroom door, and says, “wash your hands.” Moms are universal.
(13) Raymond talks about “coloured indifference” and “coloured fear.” He admires blacks. He claims they are fearless. When do generalizations become bigotry, even when they are meant to be compliments?
(14) So many questions about the play are being answered. If not answered, then recognized. SAJ and I are already arguing about who the “good guy” is in the play.
(15) That’s a joke.
(16) Culpability…who is responsible? How far back do we go? What is retribution? What is forgiveness? Can we forgive others? Can we ever forgive ourselves?
(17) Blood, family, blood, humanity.
(18) It seems to me that this play is eternal.
(19) Songs suggests we tip Raymond. I ask should we have tipped Nkululeko? Songs says no, not really.
(20) There is a black woman washing the windows for a coloured family across the street.
(21) SAJ is my brother. I can’t wait till he meets mom back in Kansas.
(22) Lunch at Tiger’s again. Even better! Sitting at the patio when 20 – 25 pale…and I mean Nordic white tourists walk around the corner. SAJ jokes that my presence must have confused them. I get the joke but what am I, but a tourist.
(23) In the play, SAJ’s character talks about the bar he used to frequent before my character’s arrival. SAJ suggests we visit such a bar.
(24) And against my better judgment we head back to Nkululeko’s house and “his” bar next door.
(25) You can’t buy a “single” drink here. You have to buy a bottle. It’s like blue-law dry Kansas.
(26) Well if you gotta buy a bottle, you gotta buy a bottle. When in Rome…
(27) Recording everything
(28) A last drive around and I hope pictures and voice recordings come out. They ARE the record.
(29) At dinner, a 27-year old South African white female bartender claims we have seen more of Cape Town than she has, and she has lived here all her life. Why?
(30) Tired. Still bad TV. And I’m still looking forward to breakfast.
(1) Waiting for Songs. People going to work. The market across the street already set up. Cabbies waiting for a fare and playing cards using a dumpster as their table. Traffic and pedestrians daring the traffic to hit them.
(2) And once again, a warning to be careful. I know we are old, but do SAJ and I look vulnerable? This is vanity speaking.
(3) Miles of settlements and poor black townships lining the highway. It’s overwhelming. It’s numbing. The highways littered with everything. Garbage and thousands of old tires. Horse drawn carts picking up scrap metal. Songs says it is a common living here. Cages of chickens and women butchering them on the side of the road.
(4) Cape Flats, the area between the Table Mountain and the ocean. It stretches out for miles. One black township with 1.4 million people. Mainly one, sometimes two-room shelters crowded right next to one another – it just seems to go on forever.
(5) It’s so….and I can’t think of another word, numbing.
(6) I tell Songs I need to see the ocean. It is breathtaking. Cape Town is a city with a sea, flat lands, hills that lead to highland vineyards and mountains in the distance. It should be the sister city of San Francisco.
(7) We visit Rodney, also a musician friend of Songs, in the “coloured” township of Bellville South. It’s like a gated community compared to informal settlements or black townships. Kitchen, bath, living room, two bedrooms, garden in front, back yard with a garage and chihuahua that jumps all over the place. It’s the family home and he lives with his parents. Hell, I wouldn’t want to leave home neither.
(8) The disparity of life because of color… tint…hue… the spectrum of the rainbow…
(9) In America, there is this thing called “white guilt.” I experience that. And in South Africa, I think there is this thing called “coloured guilt.”
(10) Coloured, coloured, coloured
Black, black, black
White, white, white
(11) Raymond makes a lovely cup of tea.
(12) Raymond’s house has a wall between the toilet and the bath/bathroom sink. I use the toilet and upon exiting, his mother points out the bathroom door, and says, “wash your hands.” Moms are universal.
(13) Raymond talks about “coloured indifference” and “coloured fear.” He admires blacks. He claims they are fearless. When do generalizations become bigotry, even when they are meant to be compliments?
(14) So many questions about the play are being answered. If not answered, then recognized. SAJ and I are already arguing about who the “good guy” is in the play.
(15) That’s a joke.
(16) Culpability…who is responsible? How far back do we go? What is retribution? What is forgiveness? Can we forgive others? Can we ever forgive ourselves?
(17) Blood, family, blood, humanity.
(18) It seems to me that this play is eternal.
(19) Songs suggests we tip Raymond. I ask should we have tipped Nkululeko? Songs says no, not really.
(20) There is a black woman washing the windows for a coloured family across the street.
(21) SAJ is my brother. I can’t wait till he meets mom back in Kansas.
(22) Lunch at Tiger’s again. Even better! Sitting at the patio when 20 – 25 pale…and I mean Nordic white tourists walk around the corner. SAJ jokes that my presence must have confused them. I get the joke but what am I, but a tourist.
(23) In the play, SAJ’s character talks about the bar he used to frequent before my character’s arrival. SAJ suggests we visit such a bar.
(24) And against my better judgment we head back to Nkululeko’s house and “his” bar next door.
(25) You can’t buy a “single” drink here. You have to buy a bottle. It’s like blue-law dry Kansas.
(26) Well if you gotta buy a bottle, you gotta buy a bottle. When in Rome…
(27) Recording everything
(28) A last drive around and I hope pictures and voice recordings come out. They ARE the record.
(29) At dinner, a 27-year old South African white female bartender claims we have seen more of Cape Town than she has, and she has lived here all her life. Why?
(30) Tired. Still bad TV. And I’m still looking forward to breakfast.
Informal Settlements - September 3, 2007
(1) Songs is our guide. A large African man with a great laugh… Reams of knowledge and the wisdom that seems years beyond his age. Without him, this trip would be meaningless. Thank you, Songs!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(2) Informal settlements…squatters’ land. Lean-to’s, shacks, shanties, made of scrap metals and salvaged woods. Tarred paper roofs held down with old tires. One door and no windows. A communal water well and a common area for washing clothes. Rows of porta-potties that are blocks long. Stray dogs everywhere. Dust, dirt, litter. No electricity. Large campfires for cooking. A dozen cattle being herded down the dirt road on which we are driving. Where do they graze? Even Songs doesn’t know the answer to that. Tables, set up on corners, that sell “smilies”… sheep heads that are roasted and considered a delicacy. I suggest we get one, but SAJ wisely talks me out of it. People sitting and staring. Children moving dirt with their toes as if it is a game. Clothes and bedding hanging on fences that separate these settlements from more affluent townships. A dirt road that separates one settlement from a township area nicknamed “Beverly Hills.” Beverly Hills is a neighborhood in Langa consisting of one – to two-room bungalows. And believe me…compared to the settlement, the name is fitting. Row upon row of these shanties connected by a common wall, because that means one less wall to build. Most times, connected in the back, too, because that means two less walls to build. These settlements are found throughout Cape Town. They have no names. Children are born here.
(3) And yet people smile and wave.
(4) We re-visit the black township of Langa and home to Songs. He takes us to meet Nkululeko, a musician friend of his. Nkululeko is a percussionist and marimba player and this morning he is terribly hungover. Man, artists are the same everywhere.
(5) Nkululeko’s favorite bar is right next door to his house. Cool.
(6) There is a tour bus on Nkululeko’s street. Tourists having lunch at a restaurant there.
(7) Nkululeko plays some of his latest music for us. It is a DVD recorded in Japan. He shows me a picture of his Japanese girlfriend. I show him a picture of my Japanese wife.
(8) Lots of laughs and jokes at each other’s expense. It’s like hanging with Judd and Rene.
(9) Back on the road. The mass transportation system here seems to be all privately owned. Vans and buses pick up people at collection spots in townships and drive them to Cape Town proper or its suburbs.
(10) All public school students wear uniforms. As a child of the 60’s, surprisingly, I like that they do.
(11) I just saw a dog scratching his back on the front bumper of a Volks Wagon.
(12) Langa has a population of little over 170,000. It is the smallest and oldest of all black townships in Cape Town. Songs seems to know every one of those 170,000 people. Waves, yells, honking horns. We are in the capable hands of a rock star.
(13) Lunch at Tiger’s…A long connected 3-room heaven! You buy your meat (lamb, beef, pork, chickens, sausages, and variety types) in the first room, a butcher shop. You then season it with assorted spices. Songs did this for us. You then give this platter of meat to the cook in the second room. And while he is grilling, you proceed to the 3rd room and come to the lounge and an outdoor patio. The patio is a concrete slab facing the street with cars parked about 6 ft away. Order a few beers and wait for the food. Watch Songs greet everyone and introduce us to them. Everyone knows everyone. All are kind and welcoming. A school bell goes off across the street. Then the food comes on a large tin tray with one knife. It is placed on a chair between us, and it’s every man for himself. Grabbing, pulling, tearing the meat apart and tasting the best food I think we had in Cape Town.
(14) And not one vegetable in sight. Not even a lamb-flavored potato chip.
(15) Recording and filming everyone and everything we can. I hope these machines work.
(16) More black townships. Alive with people and activities. Interactive…not just people rushing home to work, to home. Laughter. The joy of a common struggle?
(17) Back at the hotel, and the woman at the front desk seems genuinely shocked that we spent a day in Langa. Crime, gangs, drugs, etc. She is “coloured.”
(18) Terrible television in South Africa. 5 stations and 3 of them show soccer. The other two, old reruns of American soap operas.
(19) Consciously observing is exhausting. Night, night.
---
Visual tour of the township:
(2) Informal settlements…squatters’ land. Lean-to’s, shacks, shanties, made of scrap metals and salvaged woods. Tarred paper roofs held down with old tires. One door and no windows. A communal water well and a common area for washing clothes. Rows of porta-potties that are blocks long. Stray dogs everywhere. Dust, dirt, litter. No electricity. Large campfires for cooking. A dozen cattle being herded down the dirt road on which we are driving. Where do they graze? Even Songs doesn’t know the answer to that. Tables, set up on corners, that sell “smilies”… sheep heads that are roasted and considered a delicacy. I suggest we get one, but SAJ wisely talks me out of it. People sitting and staring. Children moving dirt with their toes as if it is a game. Clothes and bedding hanging on fences that separate these settlements from more affluent townships. A dirt road that separates one settlement from a township area nicknamed “Beverly Hills.” Beverly Hills is a neighborhood in Langa consisting of one – to two-room bungalows. And believe me…compared to the settlement, the name is fitting. Row upon row of these shanties connected by a common wall, because that means one less wall to build. Most times, connected in the back, too, because that means two less walls to build. These settlements are found throughout Cape Town. They have no names. Children are born here.
(3) And yet people smile and wave.
(4) We re-visit the black township of Langa and home to Songs. He takes us to meet Nkululeko, a musician friend of his. Nkululeko is a percussionist and marimba player and this morning he is terribly hungover. Man, artists are the same everywhere.
(5) Nkululeko’s favorite bar is right next door to his house. Cool.
(6) There is a tour bus on Nkululeko’s street. Tourists having lunch at a restaurant there.
(7) Nkululeko plays some of his latest music for us. It is a DVD recorded in Japan. He shows me a picture of his Japanese girlfriend. I show him a picture of my Japanese wife.
(8) Lots of laughs and jokes at each other’s expense. It’s like hanging with Judd and Rene.
(9) Back on the road. The mass transportation system here seems to be all privately owned. Vans and buses pick up people at collection spots in townships and drive them to Cape Town proper or its suburbs.
(10) All public school students wear uniforms. As a child of the 60’s, surprisingly, I like that they do.
(11) I just saw a dog scratching his back on the front bumper of a Volks Wagon.
(12) Langa has a population of little over 170,000. It is the smallest and oldest of all black townships in Cape Town. Songs seems to know every one of those 170,000 people. Waves, yells, honking horns. We are in the capable hands of a rock star.
(13) Lunch at Tiger’s…A long connected 3-room heaven! You buy your meat (lamb, beef, pork, chickens, sausages, and variety types) in the first room, a butcher shop. You then season it with assorted spices. Songs did this for us. You then give this platter of meat to the cook in the second room. And while he is grilling, you proceed to the 3rd room and come to the lounge and an outdoor patio. The patio is a concrete slab facing the street with cars parked about 6 ft away. Order a few beers and wait for the food. Watch Songs greet everyone and introduce us to them. Everyone knows everyone. All are kind and welcoming. A school bell goes off across the street. Then the food comes on a large tin tray with one knife. It is placed on a chair between us, and it’s every man for himself. Grabbing, pulling, tearing the meat apart and tasting the best food I think we had in Cape Town.
(14) And not one vegetable in sight. Not even a lamb-flavored potato chip.
(15) Recording and filming everyone and everything we can. I hope these machines work.
(16) More black townships. Alive with people and activities. Interactive…not just people rushing home to work, to home. Laughter. The joy of a common struggle?
(17) Back at the hotel, and the woman at the front desk seems genuinely shocked that we spent a day in Langa. Crime, gangs, drugs, etc. She is “coloured.”
(18) Terrible television in South Africa. 5 stations and 3 of them show soccer. The other two, old reruns of American soap operas.
(19) Consciously observing is exhausting. Night, night.
---
Visual tour of the township:
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
September 3, 2007
(1) Check out the reports about French Prez Sarkozy’s address in Senegal in July and controversy surrounding the speech and South Africa's President Mbeki’s response to that.
http://africa.reuters.com/top/news/usnBAN723359.html
http://allafrica.com/stories/200707310193.html
http://allafrica.com/stories/200708230352.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/southafrica/story/0,,2156810,00.html
(2) This may be the most remarkable day of my life and I am not ready to write about it.
http://africa.reuters.com/top/news/usnBAN723359.html
http://allafrica.com/stories/200707310193.html
http://allafrica.com/stories/200708230352.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/southafrica/story/0,,2156810,00.html
(2) This may be the most remarkable day of my life and I am not ready to write about it.
Monday, September 3, 2007
The Church
(1) I haven’t been to church for years unless for weddings or funerals.
(2) We drive to the black township of Langa. It’s still scary, but SAJ thinks he’s getting better at driving here. When he tries to use the turn signal the wind shield wiper comes on.
(3) My first time in a township. Overwhelming. I am so, so, so pale. I have to admit, it’s weird. And weirdness runs very deep. What is color? Keep asking that. What is race? What is tribe? What is family? What is blood? Really, what is blood?
(4) They have a coal-water cooling plant here that looks like a nuclear reactor.
(5) We are early for church, so we drive around. I feel foreign, out of place, a tourist to a struggle.
(6) The church is right across from the police station.
(7) We are standing waiting to meet our host, Gege. He doesn’t recognize SAJ because of the lack of the ponytail.
(8) Remarkable smile – Gege.
(9) Music everywhere. Even before we go into the church.
(10) We sit at the back of the church.
(11) Children everywhere. Youth choir, teenagers that sit on the risers facing the congregation, late-teens or early 20’s in blue blazers and caps doing the confirmation of faith.
(12) Children make you see your sins and your hopeful redemption.
(13) Unbelievable music and everyone knows the songs and can perform them in six part harmony.
(14) I am fighting back the tears. The beauty of the children.
(15) The pews in this church are even smaller the ones at St. Teresa’s Catholic Church in Hutchinson, KS.
(16) Well, it’s official. At a holy ceremony of the First United Langa Methodist Church of South Africa, I was introduced as one of two “fellow Africans from America.” SAJ and I are really brothers.
(17) Long service. Almost 4 hours!
(18) AIDS Awareness everywhere. It’s good to see a church addressing the issue.
(19) Gege’s mother is beautiful and has a remarkable voice. And he is a dynamic force that makes you optimistic for the future.
(20) Meeting with Gege, lots of stuff on tape for Deb.
(21) I miss my wife.
---
Video of the children's choir singing in the church in Langa:
(2) We drive to the black township of Langa. It’s still scary, but SAJ thinks he’s getting better at driving here. When he tries to use the turn signal the wind shield wiper comes on.
(3) My first time in a township. Overwhelming. I am so, so, so pale. I have to admit, it’s weird. And weirdness runs very deep. What is color? Keep asking that. What is race? What is tribe? What is family? What is blood? Really, what is blood?
(4) They have a coal-water cooling plant here that looks like a nuclear reactor.
(5) We are early for church, so we drive around. I feel foreign, out of place, a tourist to a struggle.
(6) The church is right across from the police station.
(7) We are standing waiting to meet our host, Gege. He doesn’t recognize SAJ because of the lack of the ponytail.
(8) Remarkable smile – Gege.
(9) Music everywhere. Even before we go into the church.
(10) We sit at the back of the church.
(11) Children everywhere. Youth choir, teenagers that sit on the risers facing the congregation, late-teens or early 20’s in blue blazers and caps doing the confirmation of faith.
(12) Children make you see your sins and your hopeful redemption.
(13) Unbelievable music and everyone knows the songs and can perform them in six part harmony.
(14) I am fighting back the tears. The beauty of the children.
(15) The pews in this church are even smaller the ones at St. Teresa’s Catholic Church in Hutchinson, KS.
(16) Well, it’s official. At a holy ceremony of the First United Langa Methodist Church of South Africa, I was introduced as one of two “fellow Africans from America.” SAJ and I are really brothers.
(17) Long service. Almost 4 hours!
(18) AIDS Awareness everywhere. It’s good to see a church addressing the issue.
(19) Gege’s mother is beautiful and has a remarkable voice. And he is a dynamic force that makes you optimistic for the future.
(20) Meeting with Gege, lots of stuff on tape for Deb.
(21) I miss my wife.
---
Video of the children's choir singing in the church in Langa:
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Jack Reporting #5
(1) Boys and girls… I just found a mall! So western…so modern…so comfortable. And it's at the pier that takes you to Robben Island. How perfect.
(2) We meet Ivan and Fanny. They are wonderful to us. SAJ will elaborate.
(3) We take naps every day. God, we are old.
(4) Dinner at an Irish Bar in South Africa.
(4-a) The doorman says “ no smoking” but everyone is smoking. It’s just like Summers Place or High Tide.
(4-b) Beautiful Africans dressed to the nines. I mean really beautiful men and women in stylish attires. It could be SF or NYC.
(4-c) Moroccan architecture and sturdy furniture.
(4-d) High tech sound system with all kinds of music. Not just “Oh, Danny Boy.”
(4-e) Menu that features “Irish Stew.” Everything else is sports bar food. We settle for the appetizer platter of ribs, buffalo wings, chicken strips, fried mushrooms, potatoes, and onion rings with various sauces.
(4-f) Most beautiful smiles here.
(5) Going to bed early. I have church tomorrow.
(2) We meet Ivan and Fanny. They are wonderful to us. SAJ will elaborate.
(3) We take naps every day. God, we are old.
(4) Dinner at an Irish Bar in South Africa.
(4-a) The doorman says “ no smoking” but everyone is smoking. It’s just like Summers Place or High Tide.
(4-b) Beautiful Africans dressed to the nines. I mean really beautiful men and women in stylish attires. It could be SF or NYC.
(4-c) Moroccan architecture and sturdy furniture.
(4-d) High tech sound system with all kinds of music. Not just “Oh, Danny Boy.”
(4-e) Menu that features “Irish Stew.” Everything else is sports bar food. We settle for the appetizer platter of ribs, buffalo wings, chicken strips, fried mushrooms, potatoes, and onion rings with various sauces.
(4-f) Most beautiful smiles here.
(5) Going to bed early. I have church tomorrow.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Jack Reporting #4-2 District Six Museum
(1) 15 Rand to enter the place. Quiet. Reverential. A woman at the reception desk looking happy to see us. A sign in visitor book. Typical museum stuff.
(2) We meet Noor…our guide. He’s busy and asks us to wait for a few minutes. So we look around.
(3) A pyramid of street signs from the destroyed streets…saved.
(4) A map on the floor with names showing where the displaced used to live.
(5) I’m sure SAJ has done better at the history of District Six, so I’ll just add these few observations…
(5-a) I am reminded of Japantown in SF.
(5-b) Noor’s grandfather had 30 children. What’s that about!?
(5-c) A remarkable installation of a District Six home and its artifacts that have been semi-plastered into a wall with Apartheid laws printed over it all.
(5-d) Stairs…
(5-e) and this is it. In the back, a daycare. A museum with a living daycare center. Children at lunch singing their grace… Laughing and eating their meals to the sound of their teacher singing, “food is good, we love food.” The past and the future all in one.
(6) What is “Colour”? There was a black police force, a coloured police force, and a white police force all enforcing the Apartheid law. District Six was raised by the people of colour against the people of colour. That’s a hard one for me. I am so American and white.
---
Video tour of District Six Museum:
(2) We meet Noor…our guide. He’s busy and asks us to wait for a few minutes. So we look around.
(3) A pyramid of street signs from the destroyed streets…saved.
(4) A map on the floor with names showing where the displaced used to live.
(5) I’m sure SAJ has done better at the history of District Six, so I’ll just add these few observations…
(5-a) I am reminded of Japantown in SF.
(5-b) Noor’s grandfather had 30 children. What’s that about!?
(5-c) A remarkable installation of a District Six home and its artifacts that have been semi-plastered into a wall with Apartheid laws printed over it all.
(5-d) Stairs…
(5-e) and this is it. In the back, a daycare. A museum with a living daycare center. Children at lunch singing their grace… Laughing and eating their meals to the sound of their teacher singing, “food is good, we love food.” The past and the future all in one.
(6) What is “Colour”? There was a black police force, a coloured police force, and a white police force all enforcing the Apartheid law. District Six was raised by the people of colour against the people of colour. That’s a hard one for me. I am so American and white.
---
Video tour of District Six Museum:
Jack Reporting #4
(1) Just saw a commercial on TV that started with "Are you South African and still having issues with colour? Then get this issue of STYLE!" And they showed pages from the magazine and talked about articles concerning fashion, interior design, and this year's style trend. You gotta be f@#%ing me.
(2) What is "Colour" and what does it really mean to us? I mean REALLY?
(3) They just announced on South African News that the cost of anti-viral AIDS drugs are expected to rise 500% over the next few years. It's just another form of genocide if you ask me.
(4) Bacon is still great.
(5) The hotel we are staying in makes us turn in our room keys before we leave the building and the locals are telling us to be careful on the street.
(6) I get what they are inferring, but it doesn't seem that dangerous.
(7) SAJ needed to do currency exchange and it's like Fort Knox at the banks here. You push a red button, and wait until it turns green and then the sliding door opens and then you walk in and the door shuts behind you. You then push another red button and wait for the light to turn green and then another door opens and then you enter the bank.
(8) And then they tell you that they don’t do currency exchange.
(9) So you try to leave but there are more buttons and two people can never be in the same cubicle at the same time. What are they trying to say?
(10) Just passed a South African Woolworth. It reminds us of the lunch counter arrests, boycotts of Woolworth and the United States of the 60’s.
(11) But this is a very upscale Woolworth. They sell lattes.
(12) What was the other five and dime? Kreisges?
(13) It took us a while, but we find the District Six Museum.
(2) What is "Colour" and what does it really mean to us? I mean REALLY?
(3) They just announced on South African News that the cost of anti-viral AIDS drugs are expected to rise 500% over the next few years. It's just another form of genocide if you ask me.
(4) Bacon is still great.
(5) The hotel we are staying in makes us turn in our room keys before we leave the building and the locals are telling us to be careful on the street.
(6) I get what they are inferring, but it doesn't seem that dangerous.
(7) SAJ needed to do currency exchange and it's like Fort Knox at the banks here. You push a red button, and wait until it turns green and then the sliding door opens and then you walk in and the door shuts behind you. You then push another red button and wait for the light to turn green and then another door opens and then you enter the bank.
(8) And then they tell you that they don’t do currency exchange.
(9) So you try to leave but there are more buttons and two people can never be in the same cubicle at the same time. What are they trying to say?
(10) Just passed a South African Woolworth. It reminds us of the lunch counter arrests, boycotts of Woolworth and the United States of the 60’s.
(11) But this is a very upscale Woolworth. They sell lattes.
(12) What was the other five and dime? Kreisges?
(13) It took us a while, but we find the District Six Museum.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Jack At Last! #3
(1) Feeling better but where do these market people come from so early in the morning? And where do they go to with all this stuff? Townships are miles away. Displacement...Urban renewal? Cabrini Green?
(2) I can't imagine working as hard as they do.
(3) I never worked as hard as they do.
(4) I don't know what hard work is. Not like that.
(5) F@#& it. We are going to the beach.
(6) Beautiful beaches and the coastline. We will send pictures.
(7) We park on a street in an obviously white beach town and are met by young men and women of color wearing T-shirts proclaiming that they are "Beach Road Parking Security." Apparently, they will protect our car while we eat lunch. Upon asking a waiter, I am told to tip them 5 - 10 Rand. This is their job.
(8) Women on the corners waiting for the buses or vans to take them from their housekeeping jobs. They are in clothes that are almost Amish in nature. But they laugh, sing and whistle as we pass.
(9) Men in hard work clothes walking against traffic on major throughways. And we drive past.
(10) I am told that South Africa’s greatest employer is self-employment.
(11) It’s a beautiful landscape…scarred.
(12) The disparity of weath is unbelievable. Ghastly and sinful.
LATE NIGHT EDITION!
Okay, this is the truth. I am having an anxiety dream about the blog with Carey and Pink and Janette telling me I need to do it and with me quitting and with my wife saying “Just do it.” And I wake up in a sweat.
There has to be a better way.
(2) I can't imagine working as hard as they do.
(3) I never worked as hard as they do.
(4) I don't know what hard work is. Not like that.
(5) F@#& it. We are going to the beach.
(6) Beautiful beaches and the coastline. We will send pictures.
(7) We park on a street in an obviously white beach town and are met by young men and women of color wearing T-shirts proclaiming that they are "Beach Road Parking Security." Apparently, they will protect our car while we eat lunch. Upon asking a waiter, I am told to tip them 5 - 10 Rand. This is their job.
(8) Women on the corners waiting for the buses or vans to take them from their housekeeping jobs. They are in clothes that are almost Amish in nature. But they laugh, sing and whistle as we pass.
(9) Men in hard work clothes walking against traffic on major throughways. And we drive past.
(10) I am told that South Africa’s greatest employer is self-employment.
(11) It’s a beautiful landscape…scarred.
(12) The disparity of weath is unbelievable. Ghastly and sinful.
LATE NIGHT EDITION!
Okay, this is the truth. I am having an anxiety dream about the blog with Carey and Pink and Janette telling me I need to do it and with me quitting and with my wife saying “Just do it.” And I wake up in a sweat.
There has to be a better way.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Jack At Last! #2
(1) Man, South African bacons are the best bacons in the world. They put out quite a breakfast spread.
(2) 8AM, I wake to the sound of shopping carts rolling down the street, which is cobble-stoned street. And it is the beginning of another day at Green Market. The entire place is erected from scratch - poles, ropes, awnings, tables, and lots of "stuff" that you could find in Berkeley or on the Lower East Side of NYC.
Tourists and Commerce... I guess it's everywhere.
(3) Out on the street, eerie. Am I experiencing white guilt??
(4) Found a great music store and want to spend a day there. Lots of American, and African Jazz, Blues, Ska, etc. And hand-made instrument that I must consider buying.
(5) SAJ walks slower than I do.
(6) But he's much smarter than I am.
(7) Found a liquor store. Thank Allah!
(8) So we are walking along, looking at the Table Mountain, and noticing that there is a Turkish bath in the neighborhood. We turn a corner and are confronted by St. George's Cathedral. This was Tutu's Cathedral. It is like being in Atlanta at M. L. K.'s Baptist Church. And remarkably there are protesters. Schoolgirls, singing and walking and dancing and clapping in a circle. Their issues? Health! AIDS!! Beautiful young women and great sounds. I am humbled.
(9) SAJ said there are cops everywhere...taking pictures...making recording... which is exactly what we are doing.
(10) He really does walk slow, but he is really smart.
(11) Relics of oppression everywhere. Jails, courthouses. You can feel the hurt everywhere.
(12) Still being called “Boss,” and being told where the good times are. His name is Kev. And if I mention his name, I get a discount and he gets a commission.
(13) Tired, tired, tired.
(14) Lots of local history. Just waiting for the personal stories.
(15) Feeling sick. Going to bed. Early. Night, night.
---
Table Mountain in Cape Town:
SAJ looking out over the coastline:
Coastal resort in Cape Town:
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Jack At Last!
(1) Long and restless flight. World is made for small people... At least airplanes are.
(2) When you really think about it, this is a weird excursion - Halfway around the world for research on an obscure South African play that hasn't been produced for 30 years. Hopefully we'll do everybody proud and justify ourselves with this opportunity.
(3) Trouble with car reservation. Dianne, don't worry. We can fix it. We shouldn't have called you, but actors can be such a p@$$%s.
(4) Traffic, traffic, traffic. And the gears. Steering wheel and roads are all backwards. Foreigners, huh! Pedestrians everywhere walking on the sides of major highways and crossing right in front of you almost begging to be ran over. They make New Yorkers look like p@$$%s. If we don't kill someone or ourselves or cause an accident, it will be an act of a benevolent god.
(5) The hotel is great. Thanks, Dianne and Caresa.
(6) Great currency exchange rate. Thanks, somebody?
(7) These mechanical digital toys are pain in my a$$. But we will figure them out.
(8) Staying awake on doctors' orders and getting really f@%&ing stupid, slap happy, goofy, and dumb. I just asked somebody where to buy "lamps" and what I meant to say was "stamps."
(9) Cocktails and smokes are quite affordable. Thank you, god!!! No, REALLY! THANK YOU!!!!!! See you guys at A.C.T. in 2008. I'm not coming back.
(10) I look like a cop.
(11) So does SAJ.
(12) There is a private club called "Paradise." I'll bring back the card. I am being solicited constantly and called "Boss." It's a little disconcerting.
(13) Looking at faces.
(13-a) SAJ has a whole thing about faces of colors. He will elaborate.
(13-b) I'm looking at middle aged white men and seeing Foster everywhere. Where were these middle-aged men then and what did they do during The Struggle?
(13-c) I look in the mirror and see my dad, and am therefore forced to ask the question..."Where would I have been and what would I have done?"
(14) They have beef-flavored potato chips. WHY??? Lamb-flavored, too. Really, WHY?
(15) I have to wrap my mind around this "Coloured" thing. It seems so completely different from Jim Crow. This is absolutely pivotal to the production. Coloured, coloured, coloured! I must keep pondering that. I must force that word. That enigma into something actable.
(16) As a baby boomer, and the frequent viewer of post-WWII films made in the US, I have always had an aversion to the German language and its subsequent dialect as performed by badly trained American actors. It is like the dialect of Bull Conners, George Wallace or Lester Maddox and that ilk. It seems like it was made to oppress.
(17) I'm getting a little drunk.
(18) Just had dinner at this authentically touristy African menued restaurant. Great beans & rice. Great spinach & squash. And great Ox tail and Lamb. Soul Foods? Go figure!
(19) Cuban cigars and scotch at a bar in Cape Town with SAJ... What could be better?
(20) Gene pool - gene pool - think about gene pool.
(21) Sitting with SAJ at a cigar & scotch lounge in Cape Town Center, minding our own business. When 4 (count them closely) German women of the holiday variety sat across from us, smiling and chatting. We talked about cigars, and the Cuban boycott. We talked about scotch and its many qualities and how it is almost an absolute universal icebreaker. We talked about traveling around the world, and about the many places we have been to. They then asked us..."so are you in South Africa for business?" And we said, "yes." "What kind of business?" "We are actors," we beamed.
And they didn't talk to us for the rest of the evening.
(2) When you really think about it, this is a weird excursion - Halfway around the world for research on an obscure South African play that hasn't been produced for 30 years. Hopefully we'll do everybody proud and justify ourselves with this opportunity.
(3) Trouble with car reservation. Dianne, don't worry. We can fix it. We shouldn't have called you, but actors can be such a p@$$%s.
(4) Traffic, traffic, traffic. And the gears. Steering wheel and roads are all backwards. Foreigners, huh! Pedestrians everywhere walking on the sides of major highways and crossing right in front of you almost begging to be ran over. They make New Yorkers look like p@$$%s. If we don't kill someone or ourselves or cause an accident, it will be an act of a benevolent god.
(5) The hotel is great. Thanks, Dianne and Caresa.
(6) Great currency exchange rate. Thanks, somebody?
(7) These mechanical digital toys are pain in my a$$. But we will figure them out.
(8) Staying awake on doctors' orders and getting really f@%&ing stupid, slap happy, goofy, and dumb. I just asked somebody where to buy "lamps" and what I meant to say was "stamps."
(9) Cocktails and smokes are quite affordable. Thank you, god!!! No, REALLY! THANK YOU!!!!!! See you guys at A.C.T. in 2008. I'm not coming back.
(10) I look like a cop.
(11) So does SAJ.
(12) There is a private club called "Paradise." I'll bring back the card. I am being solicited constantly and called "Boss." It's a little disconcerting.
(13) Looking at faces.
(13-a) SAJ has a whole thing about faces of colors. He will elaborate.
(13-b) I'm looking at middle aged white men and seeing Foster everywhere. Where were these middle-aged men then and what did they do during The Struggle?
(13-c) I look in the mirror and see my dad, and am therefore forced to ask the question..."Where would I have been and what would I have done?"
(14) They have beef-flavored potato chips. WHY??? Lamb-flavored, too. Really, WHY?
(15) I have to wrap my mind around this "Coloured" thing. It seems so completely different from Jim Crow. This is absolutely pivotal to the production. Coloured, coloured, coloured! I must keep pondering that. I must force that word. That enigma into something actable.
(16) As a baby boomer, and the frequent viewer of post-WWII films made in the US, I have always had an aversion to the German language and its subsequent dialect as performed by badly trained American actors. It is like the dialect of Bull Conners, George Wallace or Lester Maddox and that ilk. It seems like it was made to oppress.
(17) I'm getting a little drunk.
(18) Just had dinner at this authentically touristy African menued restaurant. Great beans & rice. Great spinach & squash. And great Ox tail and Lamb. Soul Foods? Go figure!
(19) Cuban cigars and scotch at a bar in Cape Town with SAJ... What could be better?
(20) Gene pool - gene pool - think about gene pool.
(21) Sitting with SAJ at a cigar & scotch lounge in Cape Town Center, minding our own business. When 4 (count them closely) German women of the holiday variety sat across from us, smiling and chatting. We talked about cigars, and the Cuban boycott. We talked about scotch and its many qualities and how it is almost an absolute universal icebreaker. We talked about traveling around the world, and about the many places we have been to. They then asked us..."so are you in South Africa for business?" And we said, "yes." "What kind of business?" "We are actors," we beamed.
And they didn't talk to us for the rest of the evening.
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