"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!