After we managed to work our heaping plates down to a respectable size. I began to really soak up our environment. What a lovely place. This didn't feel like Africa. Everyone was all dressed up. Looking dapper and the wait staff certainly were attentive…. I mean this place wasn't anything like Denny's or Stucky's. They even brought me a morning paper… Yes Sir, we certainly started to begin to feel civilized. So I pop open the paper to see what is going on in this quaint little part of the world.

We left the restaurant and headed over to the ferry leaving for Robbens Island. Robbens Island is the equivalent of San Francisco's Alcatraz. It's an island just off the coast that housed many of South Africa's most dangerous felons. Of course, it was also the home of many political prisoners including Nelson Mandela. What made the tour so interesting was not so much the prison itself but the fact that all the tour guides were at one time political prisoners of the prison. They told their stories about how they were wrongly imprisoned and tortured and how their families were also terrorized or murdered for their 'so called' crimes against the state. I tell ya, at times I just can't seem to understand how man can be such a cruel animal. It really is disturbing.

We left the restaurant and headed over to the ferry leaving for Robbens Island. Robbens Island is the equivalent of San Francisco's Alcatraz. It's an island just off the coast that housed many of South Africa's most dangerous felons. Of course, it was also the home of many political prisoners including Nelson Mandela. What made the tour so interesting was not so much the prison itself but the fact that all the tour guides were at one time political prisoners of the prison. They told their stories about how they were wrongly imprisoned and tortured and how their families were also terrorized or murdered for their 'so called' crimes against the state. I tell ya, at times I just can't seem to understand how man can be such a cruel animal. It really is disturbing.

Amazingly the tour guides showed an incredible ability to forgive or as they say have made efforts towards 'reconciliation.' Impressive. I don't know if I could have acted as forgiving to anyone who played a role in torturing my family or me. Martin Luther King would certainly be proud of the way the black people of South Africa have acted since confronting Apartheid in all its ugliness.

As Amy had spent so much time in the Peace Corps helping out communities in need we decided to take a tour of the townships or shantytowns. The Shantytowns are evident on the outskirts of the city and are most obvious when driving in from the airport. Apparently the government moved a significant amount of blacks out of many parts of the city. They simply bulldozed entire neighborhoods and relocated families into black townships. I have seen a lot of poverty in my day and the shantytowns of South Africa compare on par to those I have seen in India and on the outskirts of Mexico City. You can't help but to shudder when you see these shantytowns.

Amy and I ducked into a 'shebeen' or a local gathering place for home brewed alcohol (see picture above) which was really just a patchwork of boards nailed and tied together with whatever resources were available. No lights or bathrooms, just a large, dirty wooden crate. Amy and I took a sip of some community drink presented to us in a bucket. Let's just say the drink was less than thirst quenching.

We stopped at one enterprising young woman's house who had decided to turn her home into a B & B so that tourists could see how the majority of blacks lived in South Africa. She thought that the tourists had no real opportunity to spend some time in this part of the city. She claimed that most of the tourists had no idea what took place in these townships as they usually booked into the high priced hotels located in town. She wanted to dispel some of the myths about these shantytowns. So as Amy and I had no itinerary (which is the best way to travel) we told her on the spot that we would like to spend the night there. We made a reservation for the following day.

So we arrived at Vicky's B & B which should have really been called the spare bedroom at Vicky's house. Let's just say for the record that no attempt was made to make this whole experience anything other than a night in a shantytown. Complete with rats that nibbled on my bedpost all night which normally wouldn't have been so bad but my bed was only about 10 inches off the ground, making the rats literally less than a foot from my head. Dogs barked throughout the night and breakfast was served complete with cockroaches in the cereal. (and I mean in the cereal bowl) I had to pick out the roaches that were swimming in my cereal bowl. I knew it was bad when Amy refused to eat and said, 'Even I have limits' and if anyone knows Amy these limits are pretty much way way way out there.

The upside was that with all the poverty surrounding us, the people genuinely seemed happy, especially the kids. Ironic that with all the money we have in the States, the kids in these shantytowns seemed so much happier. Without much more than the clothes on their backs, they seemed so alive and happy. Perhaps without the added pressures of trying to obtain the American dream of a house in the suburbs and 2.3 cars they can live for today and today only.

Amy and I walked all through the townships and were greeted with smiles and handshakes. Of course, I don't deny the misery that accompanies such poverty I was just surprised to find so much happiness amongst all the squalor. Over all, it was a fabulous experience and I am grateful to be able to see life from a slightly different perspective.

David and Amy