Apartheid Museum

Jill and I just got back from the Apartheid Museum in JoBurg and I want to get some thoughts down before I tackle the absurdity that was Cape Town.

First of all, I only have the vaguest memories from when apartheid ended. I would have been in 4th grade. I really only remember a glimpse of people rioting on tv. It's so strange to me (and really sad that I'm so lazy) that something so monumental happened in my life time, and I am virtually in the dark about it.

The whole time we were going through the museum, I kept thinking, "Would I have the courage to protest the way some of these people did?" I mean, I am no stranger to protests and rallies. I went to more than a few in undergrad and even helped organize Take Back the Night my senior year. But, if going to a protest potentially meant losing my life, I think I'd have to be pushed to the brink to go. I can't even imagine the emotional duress South Africans were under to put themselves out there like that. Thousands of people lost their lives fighting for the most basic rights. And, for every one person that was killed, three were disabled in some way. I can't help but feel grateful and guilty for the life I have.

I learned a lot about Nelson Mandela today. I had absolutely no idea he advocated for violence as much as he did. I have mixed feelings on that and I'm not really ready to sort it out on this blog. I definitely believe that peace and violence are both necessary methods for certain social movements to take hold. I just don't think I would ever have the courage to be the person advocating for violence. Dad, if you're reading this, I'd like to discuss when I get home.

The museum was really interesting in that apartheid was documented so well through film. I could have stayed another few hours just to get through the footage they were showing. Some of it was really graphic and violent. You'd think I'd be more desensitized to it by now, but there is nothing more shocking to me than watching someone die on tv. I kept thinking of the video of Neda in Iran and how you can actually see the light go out of her eyes. Again, I am just so grateful to be living in a place where I don't have to be afraid to go outside.

I have a lot more to say about the museum, but I really need more time to process it.