I come from an air force family. Both grandfathers served in the Second World War in the Royal Canadian Air Force, as well as my Nana's second husband Cam. I don't know if it is because of this, or because of something else, but Remembrance Day has been an important day for me for many years. On November 11 you will find me at the cenotaph paying my respects. Honouring those people who sacrificed, whether it was the ultimate sacrifice or the sacrifice of being away from one's family. We honour those who have fought to uphold the values that we hold dear. Values of democracy, freedom and equality. This year was different for me. And I have to say, it was very strange to be sitting in a meeting with the Durban municipality at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. So this year Remembrance Day was done differently.
Ellie and a number of the other interns here in South Africa (as well as our two Namibian interns) had to go to Pretoria for the government service exams on Saturday. I decided to also make a weekend of it and headed to Johannesburg where I spent Saturday with Joseph (CBA intern at the Legal Resources Centre Johannesburg) and Sabrina (CBA intern at the Legal Resources Centre Grahamstown). It turned into a weekend of South African history. A weekend of honouring those who fought to change South Africa and to bring the values of democracy, freedom and equality to South Africa. This fight happened a lot more recently and is etched in the day to day lives of South Africans. This weekend I was honouring something different than previous years, but honouring the same values and the fight for those values.
Lilian Ngoyi was born in Pretoria in 1911. She was a woman with fight. A woman with commitment to a cause. And a woman to honour. When we arrived at the Women's Gaol on Constitution Hill, it was her story that struck a chord with me. It was the story of her everyday interaction with her mom that made me have a moment. And it was her story that I carried with me throughout the two days in Johannesburg and will carry with me many years from now.
The site now known as Constitution Hill is the former home of the Old Fort, originally built by Paul Kruger in 1893. Over time, this high point in Johannesburg came to house one of the most identifiable prisons in South African history. There are three parts to the former prison that you visit while taking a tour of Constitution Hill - the Awaiting Trial Block, the Number Four Prison and the Women's Gaol. Our tour started with the Women's Gaol and I have to say it was the stories here that most affected me. I don't know if it is because I am a woman or if it is how the stories were presented, but I have to say, my heart broke for many of the women that spent so many days and nights within the walls of the Gaol. The reality is, most of the women who served time here were not the political prisoners that we have come to know, although Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, Albertina Sisulu and Lilian Masediba Ngoyi all spent time here. Most of the women were charged under pass laws, prostitution laws and vagrancy. But regardless of the charges that these women faced, there was a common experience in one of the most notorious prisons in South Africa.
For whatever reason the women were here, there were two opposing things that struck me from the stories told here - first, the attempt to remove any small amount of dignity from the lives of the women serving time and second, the very real and, to me, normal moments that these women were able to have from one's own birthday to the birth of a child. I don't want to go into too much on this, but I do want to tell you why Ma-Ngoyi struck such a chord with me. It was all to do with a sweater. Ma-Ngoyi was a leader in the anti-apartheid movement. She was the president of the ANC Women's League. She was the president of the Federation of South African Women. She was the first woman elected to the ANC national executive committee. She was a fighter and a leader and someone who has been honoured in many ways, but it was a sweater that made me identify with her. While awaiting trial, Ma-Ngoyi had access to a magazine. And in this magazine was a Woolworths ad. The ad had a sweater printed in it. Ma-Ngoyi wanted the sweater. She had the colour picked out and everything, and kept thinking, when I get out of here, I will get myself that sweater. Well, the day before her trial, she was given access to the phone to call her aunt in Soweto to tell her mother that her trial would take place the next day. When her mother arrived to attend her daughter's trial, she brought her something - a sweater. No wait,
the sweater. No words had passed between the two women about this sweater, about Ma-Ngoyi's desire to have the specific sweater, but somehow her mother picked the right gift - the sweater, the right colour and everything. I know that this probably seems odd to have struck me so much, but it was one of those moments of normalcy. Those moments that could be anyone of us. The relationships we have with our moms.
The trial left Ma-Ngoyi imprisoned at the Old Fort Prison Women's Gaol. Over the many years she spent fighting for freedom and equality, she spent many days and nights within the walls of the Gaol. She was part of the 1956 Treason Trial and spent 71 days in solitary confinement. It was her story, both the small story of the sweater and the more known story of her involvement with the cause, that I carried with me as we made our way through South African apartheid history, by way of Johannesburg.
Second stop on the tour was Prison Number Four. The men who have served time here is a who's who of freedom fighters: Mahatma Ghandi, Nelson Mandela, Albert Luthuli, Joe Slovo, Walter Sisulu, Oliver Tambo, Robert Sobukwe. It was a place of great suffering, a place of great indignity, but is a place of history.
The Old Fort prison closed in 1983. And in the mid-1990s was chosen as the location for the new Constitutional Court of South Africa. We also visited the Con-Court on the tour, as well as getting a behind the scenes tour from a Canadian who is currently working at the court, but I am going to write about that another time. This is about remembering.
Our next stop on our tour of Johannesburg is the largest township in the world (estimated to be between 1.3 and 3 million people), and if anybody was asked to name a township in South Africa, this would likely be the one they came up with - Soweto. We decided to take a bike tour of this infamous township. Our guide - Thomas - grew up there and was incredibly knowledgeable about the history of the area, both the history that played out in international media in the 1970s and the history as experienced by the residents. I am going to write later about the township as it is now, but today's entry is about the history; about honouring.
On June 16, 1976 Soweto became the site of one of the most famous incidents of the apartheid era - the Soweto Uprising. Students from schools within Soweto took to the streets in an organized march to protest the Bantu Education Act which had the effect of making Afrikaans the medium of instruction in local schools. It was estimated that 20 000 people took part in the march that day, most of them being students. I think one of the things that struck me was when Thomas was talking about the students. These were not university students. These were high school students. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. Taking a stand. Making a statement for equality. I know that many adults would have been involved in the organization and everything, but I just could not get it out of my head how young some of these people were. Thinking about my beliefs, my actions when I was that age. When we arrived at the Hector Pieterson Memorial, I felt like it was the version of the cenotaph that I was looking for.
During the march, violence broke out when a police dog escaped and was stoned to death by the marchers. The police opened fire on the marchers. 176 people were killed. One of the students that was killed was 13 year old Hector Pieterson; he was not the first or last student killed, but he is the student most identified with that day. The photograph by Sam Nzima of Hector being carried by Mbuyisa Makhudo with Hector's sister Antoinette running beside, became the symbol of the Uprising and many say that it was this photo that brought the reality of apartheid to the attention of the international community. It was a moment to honour those students and many others involved in the march, who took a stand against the oppressive regime.
Only a block and a bit away from where Hector was shot is another of the great symbols of the anti-apartheid struggle - Mandela House. On the corner of Vilikazi and Ngakane streets in Orlando West stands the house where Nelson Mandela lived with his first wife Evelyn and later with his second wife Winnie. It was the house that he would return to from the law offices of Mandela and Tambo. It was also the house Madhiba returned to when he was released from prison in 1990. Interestingly, the home of Archbishop Desmond Tutu is just down the street. Soweto was a place to remember, but also a place to look forward and think about the reasons I am here in South Africa.
On Sunday, along with some of the exam-writing interns, we went to the Apartheid Museum. It was a wonderfully done museum dedicated to showing the experience of apartheid in South Africa. When you enter the museum, you are designated as either white or non-white and must enter through the appropriate door. The first exhibit discussed the classification of individuals under the regime. There were four classifications: white, native, coloured or Asian. The first display discusses the attempts by many to be reclassified in order to have access to more lenient rules, for instance being classified as coloured rather than native. Apparently this desire to be reclassified explains the surname of Hector Pieterson whose family wished to be reclassified as coloured and changed their last name from Pitso to Pieterson in order to help with this process.
The museum continues on explaining some of the history that brought about the policy of apartheid, from the previous regime of segregation, the election of the National Party in 1948 through to the end of the regime and the development of the Bill of Rights under the new constitution.
The political moves against the regime are the focus of the museum. From the display demonstrating the number of political prisoners who were killed while in custody, either by hanging or suspect circumstances, to the videos of the violence that erupted in the 1980s. It was haunting at points and down-right disturbing at others. But I believe that it is a history that needs to be faced. A history that needs to be remembered. It needs to be remembered by not only South Africans, but by the international community. To take a stand against infringements of peoples' rights. To ensure that the rights and freedoms of all people are protected and respected.
I think one of the moments that really surprised me was a display on the role of the Casper in the violence of the 1980s. The Casper is a police vehicle. It is a strange looking armoured vehicle. It was used by police under the Apartheid regime in order to quash protests, in order to quash the calls for an end to the regime. Now, this is not the surprising part. The surprising part is that two months ago when Ellie and I attended the King Shaka Day festival, there was a Casper. The colour of the people driving and riding in the Casper may have changed, but the role that it plays has not. At the museum shop, there was a magnet that had a picture of a Casper on it and the words - Never Again. I just could not square this with our previous experience.
In coming out of the Apartheid regime, the South African Constitution enshrined the rights of ALL the people of South Africa. At the end of the museum, we looked to the principles that should be the cornerstones of the future of the country: equality of all people, responsibility of the government and all others and the democratic institution in which all people are represented.
My time in Johannesburg served as a time to remember and honour. And the portion of the poem written by Laurence Binyon that is read at Remembrance Ceremonies across Canada seems as fitting here in South Africa, remembering those that fought and persevered, as it is in Canada, remembering those that fought and persevered, for the values that we believe in...
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
One of the places we have noticed a big COP17 impact is our trip into work. Our bus route has changed and takes way longer now. It's annoying. Our regular bus route went through what is now the UN Precinct, so for security reasons, the People Mover Bus has to go all the way around the precinct. Ergh. However, this weeks bus driver has been awesome and has decided to take a little mini-detour from the route to drop us closer to our office. Ngiyabonga bus driver.
There is also a huge police presence around our place now. Ellie joked that she is pretty sure the cops think that COP17 is a new directive from the SAPS requiring them to stand in groups of 17. I think the beach front now has more cops than it does tourists. Never felt so safe (right...). Actually, I saw the police doing great police work yesterday. I was sitting on our balcony when this guy was hightailing it from the beach car park. He ran across the road in front of our place, almost got hit by a car, and then the police started running after him. I think the police might have had some assistance from some of the parking attendants behind our building, but the guy came back in handcuffs. It was exciting. Then a guy (clearly a surfer) came up the little hill and was clearly annoyed. I think the running guy must have stolen something, probably a phone, from him while he was putting his surf stuff away. Anyways, that is my little crime story for today. Here's another beach front picture for you. Lovely wind chimes. 
The other place that COP17 has really had an impact is at work. There was all kinds of speculation coming up to the conference about how it would impact our clients. Our greatest concern was with the impact on street kids. We were very concerned that the police would use a tactic (used last year during World Cup) of rounding up the kids and shipping them off to the outer reaches of the municipality and dumping them there. Luckily we have not had any reports so far of this happening and we are hopeful that our discussions and strongly worded suggestions regarding going to the media worked in convincing the police that this would not be an acceptable way of dealing with these children. So, here's to hoping they continue to respect the human rights of these kids and leave them be.
Something that has taken up way more time than ever anticipated is working with the Civil Society Committee for COP17. The Committee is a collective of NGOs involved in the environmental movement. The Committee is the organizer of the Global Day of Action (3 December). The Global Day of Action has become a tradition for civil society of the host city of climate talks. The main event will be a march aimed at bringing awareness to the issues of climate change and calling on the leaders here in Durban to actually do something this time; to actually move forward in trying to curb climate change. So, you would think in a city like Durban, with a serious march history, this would not be a particularly difficult event to organize - wrong. Since applying for a march permit months in advance (and don't even get me started about the distinction between application versus notification), it was only this week that we received a response from the municipality. And the response - you can march, but not on the route you proposed (i.e. not on the route that is always used for big marches in Durban). Instead, you can march on the periphery of the city centre and you can stay away from the UN Precinct, even though you have an agreement with UN representatives to hand over a memorandum outside the International Convention Centre. Interesting. So, I have been battling, along with my colleagues. Meetings galore with the municipality, leading up to this decision and now hours and hours spent working on asserting our clients' right to Freedom of Peaceful Assembly. I mean, it is interesting, but it is so frustrating! For someone who grew up talking municipal politics around the dinner table, I am disgusted with how things work here. It's just the constant round and round and round discussions and changing the rules of the game every couple of days. Ergh.
The march is scheduled to take place Saturday. We filed court papers challenging the administrative decision regarding the route yesterday. It will be heard tomorrow. I will let you know what happens and which route we march - ours or theirs. I am hoping to get to join in on the march and take part in a very South African pastime. Plus, I feel like I have really dedicated myself to this march and therefore should partake. So watch for me. I will be right up front. And I promise Mom not to get arrested.
A bit of a jumble today, but so it goes. Here's to our government stepping up to the plate (I know, wishful thinking) or at least not making us look worse than the US, China and India at these negotiations. And here's to the municipal government being ordered to respect the right of peaceful assembly here in Durban. Until next blog...
The most prominent thing about the Con-Court building is the art. Some of the 
The doors are these beautiful carved pieces that reflect the rights protected by the Bill of Rights, in the 11 official languages of South Africa, as well as in sign language and 
The local beer comes in a container that looks like a milk carton to me, it also warns you not to drink and walk on the road. Not "don't drink and drive" but "don't drink and walk" (which is a warning I maybe should have paid more attention to later Saturday evening). 
We each tried some of the beer; it was 
