Encounters with God - the Colonial Imagination lives On
In cape town for a few days, I found myself puzzled by the way the city felt so European. History informs everything I suppose, but I've never been to a place where that seemed so very obvious.
Staying at a central hostel for a week meant I made a few friends -- mostly Dutch, as it seems that South Africa is a popular destination for both Dutch and German tourists -- but I spent most of my time with a friendly Norwegian girl who had just finished an overland tour from Nairobi.
The European imagination really seems to center on Africa as a place to unload anxieties and dreams - and extra cash. I also suffer from this peculiar malady - why I am here, I dont know.
One French man arrived and immediately decided to spend a small fortune on material goods to distribute in a poor neighborhood. He was particularly insistent that he be the one handing out these groceries and household supplies - it wouldn't do to just deliver them to a local school. He needed to see the faces of the poor children and mothers, have their gratitude wash over him. I've been crying all day, he told me. These people have nothing. But now, I'm ready to get drunk. "Its like you are a god" one dutch girl told him. "Yeah, basically I am to these people, you know?" he said.
He spent the rest of the weekend hungover from speed, paragliding, and drinking wine for breakfast.
I can't judge him. The hostel employees brought him themselves to the neighborhood they grew up in - who wouldn't want their own friends and neighbors to benefit from the generous whims of the European tourists who stay at their workplace? Missionaries live again, in the form of a flamboyant drunk Frenchmen, who enjoys making the straight German men uncomfortable in his free time. Its tough being the benevolent god of a poor African township.
In all seriousness, I was glad to leave Cape Town on Monday. I'm not sure what I'm doing on this trip, but I'm sure I wont find it in Cape Town.
Staying at a central hostel for a week meant I made a few friends -- mostly Dutch, as it seems that South Africa is a popular destination for both Dutch and German tourists -- but I spent most of my time with a friendly Norwegian girl who had just finished an overland tour from Nairobi.
The European imagination really seems to center on Africa as a place to unload anxieties and dreams - and extra cash. I also suffer from this peculiar malady - why I am here, I dont know.
One French man arrived and immediately decided to spend a small fortune on material goods to distribute in a poor neighborhood. He was particularly insistent that he be the one handing out these groceries and household supplies - it wouldn't do to just deliver them to a local school. He needed to see the faces of the poor children and mothers, have their gratitude wash over him. I've been crying all day, he told me. These people have nothing. But now, I'm ready to get drunk. "Its like you are a god" one dutch girl told him. "Yeah, basically I am to these people, you know?" he said.
He spent the rest of the weekend hungover from speed, paragliding, and drinking wine for breakfast.
I can't judge him. The hostel employees brought him themselves to the neighborhood they grew up in - who wouldn't want their own friends and neighbors to benefit from the generous whims of the European tourists who stay at their workplace? Missionaries live again, in the form of a flamboyant drunk Frenchmen, who enjoys making the straight German men uncomfortable in his free time. Its tough being the benevolent god of a poor African township.
In all seriousness, I was glad to leave Cape Town on Monday. I'm not sure what I'm doing on this trip, but I'm sure I wont find it in Cape Town.
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