An interesting... integration of cities

In the last few weeks I have travelled to the four most important cities in the country: Pretoria, Johannesburg, Durban and Cape Town. (Ja you Bloem and PE okes keep it down).

Being away for two and a half years makes it easier to see differences in South Africa from then until now. This is not a new philosophy – if you watch our hair grow you will never think it is getting longer – stop watching it for a year and then see where it’s at.

And with this kind of perspective, I want to hand out massive kudos to Pretoria, which I feel is the most black-empowered city in the country. As much as people may disagree with the BEE and AA philosophies, we do know that South Africa’s future rests upon black empowerment, and empowered black people is a superb sign that we are heading the way of a non-racial democracy, which was kind of what we were aiming for when de Klerk managed to cross the Rubicon at the second NP attempt. Note that I mean black empowerment, not white disempowerment.

A few weeks ago I went to meet up with some buddies on the other side of the Boerewors curtain in Pretoria. I was due to meet them in a shopping centre there and as I strolled through I was amazed at the amount of empowered black people shopping. Understand that by “empowered” I mean earn enough to have cars, actually be a customer in a fancy clothes shop or restaurant, piss money away on R30 coffees and pretty much behave like white people. I am not talking maids and gardeners here, I mean people who are earning enough to live as what one could callously term “the way us white people do” (<--- that's a mass generalisation, I know. I take it back).

I was blown away. I honestly thought that Pretoria (which I last went to five years ago) would be one of the stumbling blocks of the country, where racial integration would really struggle. And how wrong was I? I apologise unreservedly for prejudging the people of the Blou Bulle Biltong City. The community in Pretoria deserves accolades for empowering the workforce, not just to be able to live in shacks and take taxis to the Madam’s house, but to be able to make something of themselves economically. Of the big four cities, I am most impressed with Pretoria. Veels geluk mense. I really think we ought to give credit where credit is due. In terms of empowering people, Pretoria is well ahead of the other cities.

And, knowing that Pretoria had done well (in my opinion, obviously), I schlepped off to the other side of the country down to the Cape where I expected all of the Zille plaudits to ring true, and some did. The city functions well, the robots all work, it is well sign-posted, it is clean, and I admired this over a chat with a friend at the Waterfront. And then it hit me... where do they hide the black people that aren’t waitering or cleaning the floor? And then I thought, ah, perhaps the majority of the population down here is coloured. But I couldn’t see any of them in the restaurants or shops either, unless they were working there. So I assumed that perhaps the Waterfront just didn’t cater to the tastes of the black and coloured people living in Cape Town – and then I realised that the Waterfront caters for the tastes of people around the whole bloody world. It is highly unlikely that Capetonian black and coloured customers are the only people who don’t like it there.

But I kept my eyes open wherever I went, which, in fairness, wasn’t an amazing amount of places, but hardly anywhere was there a decent percentage of customers who were not white.

I do try to take cognisance of a few things:

- I understand that what I am saying here is not a study. I walked through a shopping centre and looked at who as driving next to me. Not exactly foolproof

– I geddit. - I do not acknowledge that there is a smaller black population in Cape Town than in the other three cities to affect it that way. There seem to be plenty of non-white people working in the shops and as waiters and cleaners and car guards.

- I am not pissing over the blue-collar jobs out there. All work is honourable work, but I think we would be foolish to think that a housekeeper can get her children educated to the same degree as someone who can afford a car, overpriced clothes shops and a R60 green salad at some snooty eatery.

I am open to correction here. If anyone can tell me where the empowered black and coloured populations of Cape Town are, I will take back what would therefore be a false allegation.

(And obviously, I don’t mean that there are NO non-white people flittering around shops and restaurants in CPT, I mean there are very few).

An interesting... SA travel recommendation.

Something quite astonishing about South Africa is the reams and bucket-loads of places to visit, which are remarkably different.

For example, one can explore the dry Karoo, or go further south and connect up with the Garden Route.

A dusty and cold Johannesburg winter can be offset by the always humid, always moist Durban “winter” season where, kicking and screaming, those poor sods have to miserably bear temperatures which drop below 20 degrees for the week during which the winter hits its tumultuous peak (You can easily tell; the ice in your Jack & Coke doesn’t melt as fast as it usually does).

The wailing humidity and constant Vaalie-infested December heat in KZN can be dodged with a simple trip back the other way, towards the Highveld shopping district, where less humid but glorious thunderstormy weather can be located in Jozi or Pretoria – which are desolate every year between 16 December and the week before school starts as the locals flood toward the coast and piss off all the KZNers by driving at the actual speed limit.


And then there’s glorious Cape Town. Beautiful Cape Town. The Mother City. Wonderful Cape Town. Nowadays, I hear, one requires a passport to enter as the foreigners who own it all want to keep the South Africans out (exclusivity is key for celebrities). Lucky Michael Jackson died, so it is improbable that anyone is going to purchase Table Mountain anytime soon. The weather there is nice if you are English, or don’t actually know what happens the other side of the clouds. Oops! My bad. I forget there is a summer in CPT which is when all the foreigners come to stay in their swanky Camps Bay mansions and the rest of us are priced out. God forbid we get to buy things at normal value in rands. At least there’s always tik at a decent price.

You could always just go to and stay in Johannesburg, where the traffic ensures a brilliant chance to chill and do nothing for two hours as you attempt to navigate the four kilometres between you and 34789 shopping centres, where all you need is moisturising cream to sooth the perpetually dry skin you are bound to have.

If the big cities aren’t your thing, try Pietermaritzburg. You may have seen it on the way to Durban. You most definitely have a record of it in your mail box if you’ve driven through because of the confounding average speed cameras which ping you for going over 100kph. I have made a bigger contribution to the national GNP navigating that portion of the N3 than to SARS.

Why not PE? Maybe because of the thundering wind that never goddam stops. I can’t believe it is even safe to land a plane there. The runway, surely, must be wider than the entire set of six runways in Amsterdam. You would have to drive there to be safe. In a heavy car. Like a truck. Carrying concrete. And lead anvils.

Then there’s always the picturesque happy town of Knysna, so stunning you actually feel better just looking at it. And then you prance over the hot beach sand toward the Indian Ocean, and dip your toe into the sea as you gaze upon the scenic cliffs names The Heads. Then you realise the temperature of the water there and immediately phone 10111 before you eventually die of hypothermia.

Rather avoid that by going to nearby Plettenberg Bay, where you will be able to discuss, in depth, the crime in Johannesburg with all the eGoli expats.