Midterm in Johannesburg

Joburg smacks you in the face with noise and heat and life. Navigating the streets means stepping over broken patches of cobblestone, and manholes that are gushing water from broken pipes. The sidewalks are packed with vendors selling chilled fruits and beaded jewelry, and hole-in-the-wall restaurants hawk hot chips and curry. It's amazing to be back in a city with so much vitality, but the disparity of wealth is sobering. My friends and I are staying in an AirBnB in a trendy converted industrial building, on a street full of health food cafes and boutiques featuring local designers. Two blocks away, we begin to attract stares and whistles - we are painfully conspicuous. I've been in Johannesburg for a day and a half and I'm already developing complicated emotions about this city. My prior time in South Africa was also full of contradictions and full of things I both loved and hated. The most painful irony was our visit today to Nelson Mandela Square - the huge metal statue of South Africa's former president who fought for freedom from poverty as well as wealth equality overlooked a square that is ringed with restaurants where most meals cost upwards of R200 (20 CAD.) The average salary in Johannesburg is R249,363, or 24,936.3 CAD. On Sunday, we visited the tallest building in Johannesburg - impressively named 'the Top of Africa.' Glossy office buildings stood next to decrepit looking apartment buildings, and I could see gridlock traffic and people dodging between cars. I feel like I would need to spend at least a few months here to properly get my finger on the pulse of this city.

Our time in Joburg was short - only five days - and it wasn't all serious. We spent time relaxing in small cafés, drinking real coffee (!!) and spent evenings eating good food and checking out relaxed cocktail bars. I want to go back to Johannesburg - not just for the food - but also to get a better read on this complicated, beautiful city.








Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Time to say goodbye

Back on a Beach: Maia in Moz

Kamhlaba and COVID-19