Robben Island

October 8
South Africa Day 6 (last day)

I thought I would be tired of South Africa (and Africa in general) by now but I still want to see more. This will be my last day on the actual continent and I will miss Africa has a whole, from Morocco to Cape Town. There were 2 stories I forgot to write about that are short and funny. The first one is when I went to the soccer game, the 5 of us had water bottles (non-disposable) and they did not even allow empty ones. So we came up with a plan to hide them somewhere. We found a large paper bag amongst the trash along the street that used to hold fast food and we put our water bottles in there. Then we tossed it over a short fence nearby, where it was extremely hard to get to (even for us). We were all worried our bottles would be gone, but the way we saw it, even if they did get stolen it would make a cool story. When the game ended we found the spot at the fence that we tossed it over at and found that the bottles were still there and we retrieved them (with difficulty).
The second story was on the day we hiked Table Mtn. When we got to the top, while walking along the ridge to the very top, we saw people holding a banner for the Gynecologist and Obstetrician Association posing for a photo. My friend John ran up to get a picture of them.
Anyway, today (my last day in Cape Town) I had a ticket to go to Robben Island where Nelson Mandela had been imprisoned for some years as well as a number of political prisoners. I did this trip by myself and walked over to the ferry about 8:00am. I boarded the catamaran and we left at 9. The waters were pretty rough but the boat cut pretty quickly through the bay and out to the island (about a 25 minute ride). We docked and got on board buses. Our guide was the epitome of eccentric- he was an older Indian man who was part of the PAC (Pan African Congress) at one point and now did tours. The tour guides for the actual prison grounds were former political prisoners. The Indian guide had an accent of heavy English, Dutch and African (I would guess). The bus first took us to the small lodging of Robert Sobukwe (former leader of PAC). He was very influential in that he once told all of S. Africa to march on police stations nonviolently. Thousands followed and the police fired back, causing the beginning of a revolution. The island was also once used as a leper colony and we passed the leper graveyard. We stopped along the rocky shore facing Cape Town to get some photos of CT. The view here was incredible and clear (you could actually fully see Table Mtn. which hadn’t happened since our first day). We then passed a large gun emplacement that was intended to be used during WWII but wasn’t finished till 1947. Our guide gave Obama a tour when he came over (still a senator) and joked with him that the cannon was a WMD that they were hiding. We also passed a limestone quarry where Mandela was forced to work. Our guide said the sediment got in people’s eyes and now nobody can use a flash on Nelson Mandela because his eyes are so sensitive.
Here he also talked about education on the island. He said many of the prisoners left with 3 PhDs because of how determined they were to educate themselves. Mandela told his fellow prisoners that when they did get out they’d have to be extremely educated so they could run the country effectively. Some of the guards while stationed there earned a PHD. We were running low on time so when we got to the actual prison area, our ex-prisoner guide gave us an abbreviated version of the tour. He said he was put on Robben Island for blowing up a political outpost (no one was killed) when he was 19. He said he’d been “sick” ever since he arrived there (he coughed right after he said this). He took us through the number assignment area (everyone had a number, not a name). He told us that they could write 2 letters a month and they couldn’t contain anything compromising. Likewise with incoming letters, they sometimes had sections actually cut out (with scissors) and were sometimes only left with the greeting part and the ‘sincerely’ section. He also told us his dad came to visit him once and the security guards shot his dad 8 times just for attempting to visit (apparently he survived). He said when he found out, he was sick and had trouble walking.
We then moved on to the yard where they spent time hanging out and gardening. Mandela convinced the prison to let them garden. Aside from growing grapes and apples, they also used the garden to hide literature and other things. They said one way they communicated with an adjacent yard was by splitting a tennis ball, enclosing a note and after resealing it, hitting it over the wall into the next yard. In this way they all stayed connected and informed each other of certain things. Mandela said it was important to befriend the guards. Some of them sympathized with them and snuck in ‘contraband’ for them. However, they would have to start over the befriending process frequently because guards were completely replaced every 2 years. As we were leaving, the guard said how he was glad to see Africa improving and said he cried after he voted. His final message (just like at Ghana’s slave dungeons) was that something like this must never happen again.
We walked back to the boat and boarded. The ride back to Cape Town was very quick and we offloaded onto the waterfront. After finishing Robben Island, my intent was to find and buy a Springboks rugby jersey before leaving SA. The whole week I had been finding places that sold them and bouncing back and forth between places comparing prices and looking for the right sizes. I went from a store at across the waterfront to the mall (Victoria’s Wharf) and ponged my way between a couple stores that sold the jerseys. After trying to find the right size and the best price (you have no idea how much thought I put into this) I finally decided to by one from a sports store. I returned to the ship and uploaded pictures. After finishing this post, I’m hoping to find internet (a reliable source) and post 2 more posts as well as put more pictures on Photobucket. Wish me luck. (again no spell check)