Langa

Found at: bluefifthreview.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/blue-five-notebook-april-2014-14-7/

This week I've been using the resources at the South African National Library to do some research on Langa, the oldest township in Cape Town. Established in 1923, city officials heralded the area as a "model of housing and planning"- which, roughly translated, really meant that it was a space outside of the city in which they could place people they didn't want. This particular township grew out of a place named Ndabeni, which was originally located at the outskirts of Cape Town. However, by the 1920s, the population of whites in the area was growing, as were their housing needs. White communities began impinging upon the fringes of Ndabeni, and it was conveniently during this time that city planners thought Ndabeni would make a wonderful place for factories and manufacturing. So, officials ordered the building of Langa in 1923, and opened it four years later to residents.

Photo taken from: ificould.co.za/history-langa-township, which also has a more detailed history of the area

Jump forward thirty years, and city officials called for building yet another township named Nyanga. The reason? The population of non-Blacks had grown exponentially and were beginning to infringe on Langa. Instead of working with residents in the area to move new housing, schools, and businesses to other spaces, officials decided to displace families living in Langa to Nyanga. Single, adult men who had jobs were allowed to stay in Langa, which was closer to the center city and, in most cases, closer to their jobs. Nyanga is located (if I'm remembering correctly) around 12 miles out of town while Langa is an 8 mile trek. I wonder how many working men were forced to make a choice between staying without their families or moving with them, for the sake of their jobs? The rail system in and around the city hadn't been well-developed at that point and many were reliant on buses and other forms of public transit to get them to and from work. Testimonials from those living in townships (not just Langa or Nyanga) revealed that there were many who would leave their homes before or close to 5am to make it to work and return home late at night (read: after 10pm) due to their work schedules and the lack of public transportation options available the those living in the townships. 

The other piece of the Langa equation that I've found really interesting is the division of political labor (or, labour, according to spellers here) between the metropolitan and national government. The governance of the townships and really anything having to do with Blacks in Cape Town was handed over (willingly) to the state-level officials. They were the ones who paid for the building of homes, roads, and schools within the townships, while the Cape Town Metropolitan government took control of the city center and all-white areas. This seems fairly straight-forward, but I'm still attempting to find out why they were so willing to hand over control of any piece of their city to a higher governmental authority. Also, how has this impacted the governing capacity and control by the Metropolitan government over majority Black areas today? These are the pieces I'm still trying to come to grips with through my research this week. 

This photo, along with other amazing shots, found at: https://www.flickr.com/groups/37996573354@N01/pool/with/12744069165/lightbox/

 Unlike the township of Khayelitsha, I have not visited Langa during my tenure here. I had planned on doing so, but there have been riots and unrest within the community that have arisen out of protests over public housing. My guide has been incredibly hesitant about traveling into Langa, given that I'm the whitest person he's probably ever met and because of the flashpoints of violence that have happened in the past few weeks. But this, too, is something worth mentioning because, to be honest, I can't blame them for being upset. The government has been slow in building public housing, yet has made deals for the building of large shopping centers in the area. While business is essential to growing the economy of an area, housing is an imperative to individuals- so how do cities balance both to create a vibrant, healthy, community? I'm glad I only have to wrestle with, but not answer, that question.

Found at: gogobot.com

Fotos!

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence." 

                                                                                                                         ~ Ansel Adams

Khayelitsha

Downtown Cape Town

Botanical Gardens

Hoek Bay

Long Street Market

"Our New Home"

The past few days have been spent traveling to and researching the township of Khayelitsha, a community that is located southeast of the city. I've waited to write about this place because I wanted to take some time and allow what I've been learning to marinade in my head. It's difficult not to have an automatic reaction to this place, especially as a researcher from another country, because I'm constantly having to fight off the overwhelming desire to make comparisons between here and the US- ironic, since this is part of the point that I'm trying to make with my work. For years, urban scholars have used Western cities as a baseline for development and a standard of wealth. In the past, if a country had a GDP that is lower relative to that of Western countries, it was referred to as a "third world" country or one that was "underdeveloped". Today, terms like "least developed" have emerged as an alternative to this terminology; however, there is still an implicit understanding that they are least developed relative to standards set in the west. I (along with hopefully a few other urbanists) would assert that using these types of labels on countries implies that they are set along a path of development and need to catch up to standards set elsewhere. However, the narrative and terminology desperately need to be changed, because some countries may never be able to catch up, economically, to others due to problems such as a lack of stable institutions, education of their workforce, geography, bureaucracy (or lack thereof), etc. And so goes the same for cities. Cape Town, as much as it seems to be trying, may never be on par, economically, with Johannesburg, Sao Paulo, Chicago, or London. And I think this is an important note to make, because when officials invest in creating what we like to term "World Class Cities", they are diverting funds from programs and people that could use the support. World Class Cities (regardless of the continent on which they exist) should take into account not only the fiscal and business needs of tourists and corporations, but also provide support for those who are homeless, illiterate, un/underemployed, or struggle with food insecurity.

Alas, I will digress and move on to Khayelitsha. This community was created by the South African government in the 1980s, during the waning years of Apartheid, in what I like to call a fit of frustration. The goal of Apartheid policies was to create separate (damned if they were equal) spaces in which whites and everyone else did not have to mix. These horribly racist laws (and people) ordered the removal of non-white communities from cities and towns throughout the country; in Cape Town, many people were displaced to the outskirts of the city to an area called the Cape Flats. Squatter communities, made up of displaced residents, rural migrants, and illegal immigrants began to pop up on the outskirts of formally recognized townships that had been established by the government to house non-whites. One such community was Crossroads, located outside the Cape Town suburb of Tygerberg. Upon seeing the massive tent/corrugated tin houses that had taken over the area, government officials ordered the removal of residents to a new, formal (and better controlled) space. This is how Khayelitsha originated, as a place that would house those the government had termed "undesirable". The name of new area means "our new home"- ironic, since no one actually wanted to live there.

Instead of writing everything down that I've learned this week about the community, I will just focus on three things that I found really interesting/pertinent: 

1. Prior to being used as a township, the area was used by Defence Forces to practice maneuvers. This area was also remote, surrounded by untamed forest/growth, and also incredibly sandy. Old photos show government workers flattening sand dunes and throwing down straw just prior to residents moving into the area. 

2. While they were forced to relocate, the government only built a few, small, corrugated tin homes with tin roofs for the first new residents. There were no businesses, no schools (though two were quickly completed after move-ins began), and only one road into the community that featured a stop sign, chain across the road, and an armed sentry. The idea behind the scheme was that residents would receive land tenure and a two room home that they could later add a room to. But, residents who moved into the community after the initial settlement had to build their own homes; many slept in tents until they could afford to do so. 

Oh, and the homes didn't feature running water or toilets. 

And, they were told they had to pay rent. 

Over the years, government subsidized housing has been added to alleviate the problem of people living in tents or out in the open. However, the homes are still quite small, very close together, and some are still without electricity, sewage, water, or a combination of the three. 

3. As I was reading through polling data, I found something I didn't expect: many rural migrants have homes in the rural area that they intend to return to once they reach old age. And I think this is important, because many (including me, until I read the data) seem to have the idea that once rural people move to the urban space, they shed their old identity. However, many rurals view their ties with their land back home as being stronger than the ties they might have with their new community. 

There is more, of course, and as I move into different areas over the next couple of weeks, I will talk more about this community and how it differs from others in the area. But, a very fruitful week with lots of info stuffed into my brain, ready to be processed and used for my dissertation! 

V&A (yes, again)

So, I ended up at the waterfront again today, in part because I wanted to visit the old clock tower and hang out at the Mandela museum.

This is where the captain (I think) used to sit and watch over the wharf/port. On the top floor, there are apparently mirrors placed all around the ceiling so that the captain would be able to have a full view of everything happening in the area. The color of the clock tower, however, threw me off a bit at first. It was supposed to be, by all accounts, red- was the old captain's ghost pulling one over on the owners of the waterfront? (It's like a Scooby Doo mystery!) 

Sadly, no. The mystery was not a mystery for very long. Rather, the re-painting was done as part of the "World Design 2014" project that the city undertook at the beginning of the year. From the project website: "The World Design Capital distinction is awarded to cities which recognise design as a tool for social, cultural, and economic development. In 2014, Cape Town will host over 460 design projects aimed at transforming the city." Projects such as the yellow clock tower and the giant chair (see below) are meant to help visitors and residents alike reassess the claiming and use of space throughout the city.

This is an important question in any city; however, in South Africa, it seems to take on an even greater sense of importance. In the post-Apartheid era, the government at the national level sought to take land from Whites and return it back to Africans, in an effort to (by my estimation) re-balance power throughout the country. Prior to 1994, over 75% of the land in the country was held by Whites, who made up less than 30% of the overall population (these are not exact numbers, but they are close). Today, despite efforts made by officials at the national level, those figures remain largely unchanged. And I'm wondering if this project, undertaken by Cape Town officials, will help to find ways of encouraging land ownership among non-Whites.

I love this shot. It was a puppet constructed by anti-Apartheid activists in protest of how Blacks and Coloured were being treated. Currently, it hangs on a wall in the Robben Island Gateway Museum and is probably 8-10 feet tall. 

The port from inside an old building (yes, I am enjoying over-processing my photos a bit too much).

Lastly, a ship that has been dry-docked in port for maintenance and repairs. I watched the workers for a bit, cleaning and re-painting the ship, and really wanting to find a way down below the ship for other shots. However, if I'm going to get arrested in a foreign country, I want it to be for something better than sneaking below the hull of a ship to do photography. 

Tomorrow, I head to my first township, Khayelitsha to tour and talk. I have a lot of ideas brewing around in my head, especially since it was announced in the papers today that a new shopping center will be built in another township, Langa. This area has seen protests over the past couple of weeks (and looting one day) over the lack of public housing being built by the government, so I'm interested to see how residents will react to this new project. More on the townships- and their relationships with the local government- later! 

Ta! 

V&A Waterfront

Today I spent a misty but beautiful afternoon exploring the V&A Waterfront. Named for the Alfred & Victoria Hotel that was built on the waterfront, the area is part heavy industrial park, part tourist attractions, with a bit of boating thrown in for good measure. The city of Cape Town used to have several canals running throughout (take that, Venice!) but they have all been filled in and are no longer in use, save for one.

So today, they make use of one of their best assets, the waterfront; I overheard someone say that it is Cape Town's most visited area of the city. And I think I can understand why. The area is very clean, well patrolled by private and public security officers, and contain higher-end shopping and eating venues for visitors. I, myself, had a couple of brews and dinner at Mitchell's Brewery while watching rugby this evening. Now, for the record, the only thing I understand about rugby is that those guys look really great whilst trying to hurt one another. Nonetheless, it's an enjoyable way to pass the time.

On site, there is a market for those with a finer pallet than mine, as well as a a wheel akin to the London Eye. Why does the wheel look as though it's abandoned or place where killer clowns might descend from outer space? Because that's how I feel about these types of attractions. They might as well have written CAUTION: WHEEL MIGHT DETACH AND ROLL INTO THE OCEAN on it, because that's what I'm guessing will one day happen. I might be wrong, but you can't disprove it. (Side note: those who were actually enjoying the wheel were, ya know, actually enjoying it.)

Sculpture near-ish to the area (I love this because it looks as thought it's saying "This is faaaaaabuloooous!")

There is also an aquarium at the waterfront, which is a bit smallish but is definitely a fun place for families to spend a couple of hours (Again, this is an observation that I made from afar. I did not kidnap children and force them to hang out with me at the aquarium... for very long.). The best part of the aquarium (in my humble opinion) are these guys. 

There's not much to say about the penguins, except that they aren't behind glass like at other aquariums. These guys exist in an enclosure that has about a four foot tall-ish fence around it- you could reach in and nab one, if you really wanted. Not that anyone would do that (Anahit.. I'm winking at you), but the option is there, if one so desired. 

And to end the day, a bit of train art. 

Cheers! 

Usuku olumnandi lokuzalwa Madiba!

What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.
                                                                                                                           ~Nelson Mandela

Today would have been Nelson Mandela's 96th birthday. His life, one of toil and triumph, is celebrated throughout the country with music festivals, ceremonies, tributes, and moments spent at memorials to his work. I won't pretend to understand what this man means to South Africans, because I cannot begin to imagine the hope (or perhaps anger, in some cases) he inspired during his time as both a prisoner and a president. But, to an outsider, he seemed to be a man with a beautiful soul, with kindness pouring out of his heart and a deep passion for his people. On this day (or during this week), people worldwide are encouraged to spend 67 minutes volunteering in their community to commemorate the 67 years that Mandela spent fighting for social justice. I would love to say that I participated in (or even knew about) this call to action, but I ashamedly admit that I failed to do so. It's not because I hate volunteering, because I have invested time in collecting, boxing, and shipping books to libraries, schools, and colleges in Sierra Leone over the past couple of years (and sometimes my friend, Missy).



(She was returned, unfortunately. They didn't like her sass in Sierra Leone.)

So while I punked out on this international day of celebration for our friend, Nelson, I have been ruminating over something I read about last week. The Street Store (thestreetstore.org/) was an idea launched in January of this year, with a concept so incredibly simple and ingenious that I'm jealous I didn't think about it myself! The idea is this: collect clothes and shoes, obtain permission and permits, and then hold a pop-up "store" where homeless or needy folks can come and pick out an outfit for free. While the idea originated in South Africa, pop-up stores have also been held in Sao Paolo, Brussels, Kentucky, San Diego, and Vancouver. The reason I love this idea is because it takes the middle-man out of the relationship between those who donate and those who need these materials the most. Additionally, it is something that can be community/neighborhood driven and benefit many throughout the area. Books have been my life for the past few years, but now that the project is being taken over by someone else, I think this might be a new and interesting project.

Beyond curating my own research and teaching, I hope that my actions will continually make a difference in the lives of others. More important than publications, more important than chasing a high-profile position in academia is the call to invest in others. So today, get out and make a difference in someone else's life! Cheers!

A life without art is stupid.

Today I was happy to have the chance to meander throughout the Observatory area of the city. This is an old, quirky neighborhood with absolutely amazing restaurants and a bakery (Queen of Tarts) that is going to cause me to gain more weight than I'm comfortable with before I leave to go back to the States. Bottom line: go, explore the Obvs (the cool name for the area), eat a lot, drink a few beers (Honey Wheat.. yummmm), and enjoy the odd mix of locals and backpackers.

Prior to heading to a very late lunch in my new favorite, Bohemian suburb, I spent some time taking in the work of Irma Stern, a prolific South African painter whose work was (is, still) absolutely enchanting. Her paintings, sculptures, and collections are housed and displayed in what used to be her home. When she was alive, one could ring the front bell and someone would answer and let visitors around the house to see her work and all of the amazing statues (among other things!) that she had collected on her trips throughout Africa and Europe. I hate being that person who takes a million photos at an art gallery, even if I was only one of four visitors present at the time. So, instead, I pulled a few examples of her work from good ol' Google to display here.

Her work is largely of portraits, some of friends but many of strangers she found intriguing. What really drew me to Irma was not just that she had a keen sense of what made a person intriguing, but that she wasn't afraid to travel in order to find her subjects. Irma traveled throughout the continent, visiting the Congo and Zanzibar (located in Tanzania), and taking the time to paint landscapes and streetscapes, capturing people and moments in a kind, beautiful way. This space, quiet and calm, chock full of history and lovely pieces that were lovingly created by an earnest soul- it made me fall in love with the moment. It may sound a bit silly, but her work evokes a blissfulness in my heart that makes me want to create, too. I unfortunately cannot draw, paint, or sculpt, so I will have to settle for writing. 

Irma's work reminds me of Anna Hyatt Huntington's sculptures, in many ways. Both women have gone largely unrecognized, even though both were incredibly talented; both were seen as a tad bit eccentric, too. Anna and her husband built an amazing Moorish-style castle in Murrell's Inlet, South Carolina and then donated it, along with large swaths of land, to the state, all of which are now part of the Huntington State Park. The home is still standing and is, to me, incredibly gorgeous, even though it is unfurnished and stripped of any personal belongings. The most intriguing part of Anna's story is that, as a sculptor, she preferred to have live subjects as a reference. At her home (named Atalaya), she had a cage in which she kept a bear. Let me repeat that for you: She had a live bear. In a cage. At her house. But the results of her work perhaps justified the keeping of the bear. (Again, photo stolen from the Google.)

How amazing is that? 

Thursday is supposed to be a rainy, dreary day, meaning that I will most likely spend the day researching in my pajamas. Friday, though, will be Boulder Beach day- and that means that photos of the jackass penguins will be soon forthcoming!! (Someone should warn my friend Anahit... her heart might explode from happiness from the photos, as penguins are amongst her favorite things.) Until then, ta loveys! 

Fotos!

A bit of a picture dump, with a tiny bit of description for each  (at least that's the goal). Enjoy!

Walking through the city, there is an interesting, eclectic mix of the beautiful old architecture and new businesses. Below is the W.M. Cuthbert building, located on Adderley Street, as an example. The bottom floor is used, as it has always been (from my quick Google search), as a retail space- though these days it seems to sell more food and fewer boots, as it had once done. But, this is one example of the blend of the old and new, wherein the top floors retain the old character of the original building while the bottom floors (due to their easy accessibility) are used for new retail ventures.

I took the time today to visit two museums, the Slave Lodge (iziko.org.za/museums/slave-lodge) and the District 6 Museum (districtsix.co.za). Both museums, it should be noted, are housed in absolutely gorgeous buildings, with kind staffers and really well-curated displays. The Slave Lodge was the space where slaves were brought for holding between assignments or until they were sold; later, the building was used as the Supreme Court for the municipality. Not only does it address the historical aspect of slaves that were brought into the Cape, but the overall message is an overall focus on human rights and discusses the issue of modern-day slavery, as well. 

However, one of my favorite parts of the museum was the discussion of how music was used in the struggle for independence. What I didn't realize was how large a role the local hip-hop community played in the anti-Apartheid movement, bringing people together and providing them a means of communicating their feelings and ideas. I loved this quote from the museum (mainly because I happened to watch most of Step Up 4: Revolution over the weekend and it kind of reminded me of it... yes, I'm semi-hanging my head in shame and shaking my head in disbelief that I actually admitted to watching it): 

But how great is that? This medium, which was so foreign a concept at the time, became an integral voice in the anti-establishment movement. While I am by no means a rap aficionado (I do like Shad, but he is one of a very few artists in that genre I will wholeheartedly listen to), I am interested in listening to Emile YX? Jansen now to better understand the message that was being put out to people during the Apartheid Era. 

So, after spending a bit of time at the Slave Lodge, I walked a few blocks over to the District 6 Museum. This would be a perfect moment to mention that many of the side thoroughfares and some of the sidewalks are filled with vendors selling pretty much EVERYTHING. I have yet to visit any of the booths (I have to work up the nerve to do so), but it's really interesting to me how very congested the streets are due to the vendors, yet no one seems interested in removing them for the sake of the traffic flow in the city. On another sidenote, I do believe that living in Chicago for the past three years has been a perfect traininground for visiting here: it's crowded, no one follows the traffic rules, everyone jaywalks... They can add that to promotional materials for potential corporations.

So. District 6 Museum. I have been wanting to visit this place for two years and I was not disappointed. I will say that I was slightly confused, since there are actually two separate spaces: the actual museum that I visited today and the hands-on space, which was closed to the public when I attempted to break into it today. (I was quickly pointed in the right direction by a friendly staffer.)  Once inside, though, I saw photos and documents, as well as the historical and political stories of how the District was formed, regulated, destroyed, and rebuilt. The reason that I wanted to visit was not only to see, firsthand, the story of a place I had been researching and writing about for two years, but also to see what I had missed in my research over the last two years. 

(I love this quote- how amazing is it?) For those who are unfamiliar with the history of the District, it was a space where Coloureds (Black Africans), Indians, Jews, displaced Europeans, and people of other ethnicities and races lived separate from the White population of the city. What I had forgotten (or perhaps never knew) was that a large part of the reason they were removed from their land and their homes destroyed was because a Swiss urban planner told city officials that they would never be a great city until the space was reorganized into a geometric grid. That, coupled with the plan of local investors to redesign a piece of the waterfront, led to the destruction of the community within District 6. 

These are the actual street signs that once proudly hung in the District. They were, ironically, saved by a man that had been sent in to help demolish homes, businesses, schools, and churches; he kept them and later donated them all to the museum once it opened. 

This, I think, is one of the coolest pieces of the museum. It is a map that was drawn of the District, and was only supposed to be a temporary exhibit (if I remember correctly). Once the museum had opened, old residents began to visit and many were able to point out where their home had once stood, as well as neighbor's homes, churches, stores, etc. 

It's a bit more visible here, although not great (plus, I can't get the stinkin' picture to rotate). But the map has become a permanent piece of the museum, with personal notes from former residents about, for example, how they used to visit local parks on the weekends and play on the swings. A very touching memorial to the communities that were unfortunately ripped apart due to the ignorance and indifference of others. 

And... last but not least, a friendly art project, drawn on a train window, that intrigued me on the way home tonight. The trains in Cape Town... they are an adventure in and of themselves. If ever I complain about public transportation in Chicago- even about the people who ride public transportation in the city- someone please pinch me and remind me that it could be worse. I will have to save my train stories for another day. Until then, cheers! 

What we find changes who we become

... or what we research.

Why Cape Town? This wasn't necessarily the path I had set out upon, originally. Through a series of twists and turns, coupled with some tears and moments of deep self doubt, I landed in the Mother City to do some preliminary research for my dissertation.

I originally began grad school in Texas, studying American Politics and International Relations. The program I was in only offered a terminal Masters degree (read: no PhD), which was initially okay with me, since I had no plans to pursue anything more than an MA. However, at the beginning of my second year, multiple professors pulled me aside and asked what schools I was applying to in order to pursue my PhD. I laughed at them, partially because I thought they were joking but mainly because I honestly did not believe I could do the work required to earn a doctorate. I didn't think I could do well in the classes,  pass any of the comprehensive exams, or research and write a dissertation. This may seem as though it's a silly fear, given that I had done relatively well during my master's program; however, earning one of those and pursuing a doctorate are two really different experiences, in my opinion. There are different expectations, given the track you choose, and I wasn't quite sure that I could do well enough to make it through a doctorate program. However, the admissions committee at my current University felt I was up to the task, and allowed me to transfer into the program.

The wonderful thing about the Poli Sci program at my school is that many of the professors have a strong inclination toward urban and comparative politics. While there are quite a few schools that excel at the latter, I don't know of many schools that have such a concentrated focus on urban politics. Often that topic area is combined or subsumed by the larger topic of American Politics. But, by separating the two concentrations, it has allowed scholars in the department to focus on urban development in cities outside of the US. I originally wanted to focus on post-conflict countries, but the more I researched and prodded around this broad topic, the more I realized that I was really more interested in the institutional development of countries and cities. Concentrating more on the structure and design of a place has helped me to think more critically about my original interest- why, for instance, have some states been more stable in a post-war period than other states? For example, Sierra Leone, which experienced a lengthy conflict in which the capital city was sacked multiple times, has experienced a relatively long period of peace (10 years) compared to the DRC, which has seen really nothing but conflict since it gained independence in 1960. Apart from their different colonial pasts, why is one experiencing more peacetime than the other? Looking at the institutions (government, civil society, policy-making, history, etc) found in each country can yield valuable information that can be used to understand the differences and similarities that have allowed for different outcomes. The same comparative type of methodology can be utilized when talking about cities- but it hasn't really been, in the past.

All of that long-windedness brings me to why I am here. Scholars, such as Mike Davis (City of Quartz; Planet of Slums), have a tendency to take a term or an idea and then write entire books/articles/publications around the topic without ever really defining it and without really taking the time to separate out differential cases. I am picking on Mr. Davis without knowing him personally; I am certain that he is an exceptional man and scholar. However, my beef with him derives from his book on how cities in the developing world are becoming increasingly overrun with what he terms as "slums". He never defines the term, only describes what they might look like (which, to me, is speaking around and not directly to the term). The problem with not defining the term is more than just me being an uptight academic snob. Rather, the problem is that he describes slums as basically being the poor "informal" housing areas (sorry, working from memory here)- meaning that if you do not live in what those in the West see as a formal home (with four solid walls, running water, electric hookups, non-dirt floor, inside toilet), then you live in an informal home, and thus a slum. I do agree with him that poor area that lack these types of amenities do tend to breed disease and can lock people into a cycle of poverty that is difficult to break; however, not every poor area should be named a slum. This is mainly in part because not every poor person who lives in this type of housing community sees themselves as a "slum dweller".

In fact, in some areas of the African continent (mainly in the Gold Coast area), non-permanent dwellings are the norm in cities (see Gareth Myers, among others, for more on this argument). Not only do scholars make broad generalizations such as these about cities (and individuals!) in the developing world, but they tend to ignore historical contexts that might help to shape or even change their arguments. Cities in Africa have a tendency to be large not only because advances in technology have driven people from the rural to the urban areas, but also because in some areas, little of the land is livable, at all. We have a tendency to assume (as I have, in the past) that countries with large land masses have quite a bit of land that can be developed into housing options. However, this isn't always the case. The reason, then, that cities are growing at a rapid pace may be, in part, due to globalization and technological advances, but they may also simply be due to the fact that there are few places left to exist in a country. 

None of this answers, exactly, why I am here. Simply put, I want to stop making assumptions about cities in the developing world and examine more closely the relationship between the municipal government and the people who live in the townships around the city (i.e., the poorest places in the city). By taking public tours of two townships, as well as examining city council documents and meeting notes, I can begin to gain a better picture of how the townships have developed over time, their political efficacy in the city, as well as how the growth of these areas has impacted the municipal government over the years. (Why couldn't I have just written all of that 1500 words ago?) I think that, once I begin to gain a better understanding of how things are functioning at the local level, it will help me to "scale up" to the national level, where I can begin to look at the disconnect between the two levels of government, especially where housing and land issues are concerned. 

So there, in a very tiny nutshell, is what I have been working on for the last three years. I will leave you with a picture of my newly adopted home, which was unabashedly and unceremoniously stolen from the I Heart Cape Town Facebook page (along with the first photo, too- the second one was found online via Google). 

Ta for now, loveys!