It is a bit chilly now, when you aren’t in the sun, and the steady Cape Town breeze is still present. I woke up late this morning, at 10:00, strolled down to Woolworths, bought some eggs, and returned a dvd from the video store. Last night was enough adventure for a few days, so I am content to soak in the sun today. I bought some decent house music yesterday, and Sizwe gave me some of his, so now I have some good beats to play in my car back home, with words I don’t understand, but a vibe that surpasses language. Cape Town can be a bit rough around the edges. Sometimes that can be exciting, in a daring adventuresome sort of way, but other times I feel like I will be able to let my hair down a little more in the states.
Before coming to South Africa, I knew that I wanted to stay away from two places, the jail and the hospital, and I have been able to do that. Last night confirmed a bit of my hesitation. There was a house party, at our place. Upstairs people were bumping music, being a bit rowdy, but not unfit for the situation, as an end of the semester cross cultural college party. I was chilling in the pool house, Sizwe was giving me some tips on how to play my new djembe, and after a time we decided to go upstairs. As I was walking past the front door of the house I heard a noise, turned, and saw a flashlight. O boy, I thought. The cops are here to tell us to be quiet. I unlatched the front door and walked out the the gate, which they were standing on the outside of. ‘Can I help you?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ the officer, one of four, replied, ‘open the gate.’ ‘ummm… hold on a sec… let me go talk to my friends and…. The music’s too loud, I know, I’ll go tell them to turn it….’ ‘Open the gate’ the man said again. ‘Hold on a sec… I’ll just go in, and tell them to turn it down.’ I turned and started walking back to the house. I took one step, and the cops starting saying something, another step, and the cops started shouting, so I stopped, realizing I wasn’t going in the house before them. I faced them, asked them if we could figure it out right here, and the officers only insisted that I let them in. From there the officers hopped the gate, and started asking me further questions. They ascertained from me that I was American and renting the house, and then they proceeded to walk past me into the house. Three of them walked by me, and as the fourth did, I said, ‘In the states, you can’t go into someone’s house without a warrant.’ ‘This isn’t the states,’ he said, and walked right in.
It gave me the chills, the un-adultered authority they exhibited, the gravity of their power, and lack of respect for my right, first to know why they were there, and secondly how they were allowed to barge into our house.
Before coming to South Africa, I knew that I wanted to stay away from two places, the jail and the hospital, and I have been able to do that. Last night confirmed a bit of my hesitation. There was a house party, at our place. Upstairs people were bumping music, being a bit rowdy, but not unfit for the situation, as an end of the semester cross cultural college party. I was chilling in the pool house, Sizwe was giving me some tips on how to play my new djembe, and after a time we decided to go upstairs. As I was walking past the front door of the house I heard a noise, turned, and saw a flashlight. O boy, I thought. The cops are here to tell us to be quiet. I unlatched the front door and walked out the the gate, which they were standing on the outside of. ‘Can I help you?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ the officer, one of four, replied, ‘open the gate.’ ‘ummm… hold on a sec… let me go talk to my friends and…. The music’s too loud, I know, I’ll go tell them to turn it….’ ‘Open the gate’ the man said again. ‘Hold on a sec… I’ll just go in, and tell them to turn it down.’ I turned and started walking back to the house. I took one step, and the cops starting saying something, another step, and the cops started shouting, so I stopped, realizing I wasn’t going in the house before them. I faced them, asked them if we could figure it out right here, and the officers only insisted that I let them in. From there the officers hopped the gate, and started asking me further questions. They ascertained from me that I was American and renting the house, and then they proceeded to walk past me into the house. Three of them walked by me, and as the fourth did, I said, ‘In the states, you can’t go into someone’s house without a warrant.’ ‘This isn’t the states,’ he said, and walked right in.
It gave me the chills, the un-adultered authority they exhibited, the gravity of their power, and lack of respect for my right, first to know why they were there, and secondly how they were allowed to barge into our house.
In this instance, I did know what we were doing wrong, we were disrupting the neighbors, who were trying to sleep. I was willing to turn down the music, and ease the situation. I cannot, and thankfully will not ever have to know what it means to have to face that kind of authority, and authority a tens of times stronger, for something as simple and natural as the color of my skin.
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