I just came home from watching The Pervert's Guide to Cinema at the Encounters documentary film festival taking place in the swanky northern suburb of Randburg, near Sandton.
I saw Jesus Camp at the same fest last night, which would've been kind of funny if it wasn't so horrifying. I always ended up choking on my laughter as the horrible reality of the scenes sunk in, and then it was upsetting. It also feels kind of uncomfortably smug to laugh at the earnest faith of others. But still, talking in tongues? Seriously?
The Pervert's Guide is an academic exploration of how to use films to psychoanalyze ourselves, I think. Maybe. It was definitely a thinker. The only character in the film is a philosopher and psychoanalyst, with a thick Slavic accent and the archetypal flair of an eccentric genius, who examines 80 years of popular international cinema through a mostly-Freudian lens. Running longer than two and a half hours, in three parts, it's a good thing director Sophie Fiennes has some clever cinematic ideas; it could've been a real bore without the moments of levity. When the narrator is discussing a particular film, whether The Matrix or Solaris, he is actually inside the film, either through CGI or by filming in the actual setting (as he does to discuss The Birds and The Conversation, among others).
Anyway, I definitely recommend it to any film or psychology geeks and super-fans of Hitchcock, Lynch, or the psychological thriller/horror genre in general. And any Freud geeks, too; you sickos.
As I said, the fest was being screened at a big box movie theatre inside a mall in one of Jo'burg's rich northern suburbs ...
The intense inequalities of this city can really get you down. I live in a fairly mixed neighbourhood, in terms of both income and race (at least it seems relatively mixed to me), but if I travel 10 minutes west towards the city centre, there's intense overcrowding; dilapidated homes; stark, visible poverty; and clear desperation. You travel the same distance north, as I did today and yesterday (except it was more like 20 mins - the further north you go, the more affluent the neighbourhoods seem to become), and it's a life of luxury, which seems to be on a different planet - that is, until you drive past a group of black people huddled around a fire on a street corner.
And tonight I realized that my frustration with the city's lack of formal public transport is one tangible expression of this inequality. I'll explain ...
The Pervert movie I went to see was playing at 6:45, so I figured I had enough time to take the cheap minibus taxis (or kumbis, if you're talking to a white person) to get down there, because they stop running around 6:30 or 7. So I took a minibus taxi from my neighbourhood to the main taxi rank downtown. I'd never been there before - I've been told I should stay away from it - but I've been feeling pretty comfortable on the taxis and wasn't carrying much money on me, so I thought I'd give it a shot. When I got to the rank (a massive, multi-level parking lot-type building that is the transport hub for the majority of Jo'burgers; it's where most people head to their homes outside the city in Soweto or neighbouring townships, north or south of the city) at the height of rush hour. The place was packed and I was the only white person. But strangely enough, sometimes I'm more conscious of my backpack than my skin colour; nobody in South Africa seems to carry backpacks and I always feel like I stand out when I'm wearing mine. Anyway, I ask a few people and find the taxi to take me up to the movie mall.
Total travel costs for two taxis to take me across the city = R12, which is less than $2.
Now, it wasn't the most comfortable travel; on the ride up north, I had to lean forward the whole time because although my waist fit snugly into the seating space, there wasn't enough room for my shoulders. (ha, because I'm so fuckin' ripped.)
But since the taxis stop running after dark, to get home I had to call a regular cab, which cost R125, or about $20.
There's no in-between. There's no middle ground. I'd love to be able to pay $5-$10 to get around town, but there's no option to do that.
And the worst part is that there doesn't seem to be much demand to improve the current system. Those wealthy enough drive cars or don't mind paying cab fare. And everyone else seems to be already at their limit paying for the minibus taxis.
Then again, I'm sure they've got some improvements planned in time for 2010, and it's likely that the emerging black middle class will start to demand better public transport from the gov.
And considering that it's only been 13 years, I should probably cut them some slack.
But really, you can check out the Metrobus site yourself. Most routes only have a few buses each day and they all stop by about 4 pm. Outside of people working 8-4, it is completely useless. Seriously, it acts more like a school bus than viable public transport; get people to work, take them home.
Ahh.
I've also got a blog in me about the frustrations of cycling in this city, but I'll save that for another day.
In short, Jo'burg's a car's world ... and the massive wealth gap is depressing.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Temperature rollercoaster
Most of you are just getting the day started, but it's just after 3 p.m. here and I wanted to note that at this very moment, it is just barely hotter in Jo'burg than Toronto or Kingston. These virtual thermometer gadgets from the Weather Network do a great job of illustrating the dramatic temperature changes of a South African winter. As I've already complained to many of you, it's cold here when the sun's not out. There were times in May and June when the temp would drop to -1 or -2 in the night. Then, when the sun was shining, it would shoot back up to 20 degrees. It gives the practice of layering whole new meaning.
It also probably explains why none of the houses are winterized and everybody buys individual space heaters.
Which explains the following ...
I have a new roommate arriving on Wednesday and I spent most of Saturday traipsing around the largest mall in South Africa looking for an electric space heater for her. No luck. Every single store that could possibly have space heaters was sold out of electric ones. So I bought a gas space heater ... which makes me a little nervous. And guilty.
Anyway, the point of this post was to comment on the dramatic daily temperature changes in Jo'burg and how it can mess with both your head and your morning-wardrobe decision.
It's funny: Before I left, lots of people made jokes about how hot it was going to be and would I be able to handle it, but most mornings I wake up shivering.
I left Canada the day after the unofficial opening of summer (Victoria Day) and a few weeks before it really got started; and I'll be in SA long enough to enjoy spring (which is supposed to be hotter than Canada's summer) and about a week of official summer before heading back just in time for Canada's winter.
But officially, 2007 will forever be known as my year without a summer.
What a depressing thought.
It also probably explains why none of the houses are winterized and everybody buys individual space heaters.
Which explains the following ...
I have a new roommate arriving on Wednesday and I spent most of Saturday traipsing around the largest mall in South Africa looking for an electric space heater for her. No luck. Every single store that could possibly have space heaters was sold out of electric ones. So I bought a gas space heater ... which makes me a little nervous. And guilty.
Anyway, the point of this post was to comment on the dramatic daily temperature changes in Jo'burg and how it can mess with both your head and your morning-wardrobe decision.
It's funny: Before I left, lots of people made jokes about how hot it was going to be and would I be able to handle it, but most mornings I wake up shivering.
I left Canada the day after the unofficial opening of summer (Victoria Day) and a few weeks before it really got started; and I'll be in SA long enough to enjoy spring (which is supposed to be hotter than Canada's summer) and about a week of official summer before heading back just in time for Canada's winter.
But officially, 2007 will forever be known as my year without a summer.
What a depressing thought.
Mid-year resolution
I resolve to get better at blogging. Seriously. Stay tuned; I've got lots to talk about.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Live Earth
Was Live Earth a big deal in North America? Like, as big a deal as Live 8?
'Cause the talk on the Johannesburg show didn't really start -- at least on the radio and in the newspapers (I don't have TV) -- until a few days ago. I knew about the show through an MSN ad a few weeks ago, but it didn't seem to draw much popular attention here. I expected there to be more hype around it.
I should check to see what the attendance was for the Jo'burg show.
I was working yesterday, but I spent most of the day at a poetry slam jam in Newtown put on by Sounds of Edutainment. The theme of the day was "Roll back xenophobia and bring back solidarity"; it was to celebrate or recognize World Refugee Day ... which was a few weeks ago (I'm not sure why they were so late).
Anyway, I'm working on a project right now called Musicians Against Xenophobia, which is bringing together Mozambican and South African musicians to produce songs discouraging xenophobia and encouraging pan-Africanism in SA. See, South Africa is the prime destination for migrants from all across Southern Africa (eastern Africa, too), so there are lots of Mozambicans, Zimbabweans, Zambians, Congolese and other African people here. But, like immigrants everywhere, they face a lot of discrimination, both systematically from government and police as well as in their day-to-day life from regular South Africans. Like everywhere else in the world, migrants and immigrants are blamed for crime, unemployment, etc.
Anyway, so I was at this thing yesterday with one of our research students doing interviews and talking to people and that kind of thing. It was interesting to hear people say they wish the artists at the Coca-Cola Dome (where Live Earth was happening) were talking about a local issue, such as xenophobia, rather than climate change.
Funniest part of the day: So the show is a lot about African unity and embracing everyone as African rather than "Amakwerre Amakwerre", which is a derogatory slur that people use for foreign Africans. As the emcee gets started, he says something like, "To all my black brothers and sisters ..." pauses a second, makes eye contact with me, then says, "And everyone else."
It wasn't a small bar and I was the only white guy.
My CMFD partner, Mandla, had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard. I'm just glad he didn't call me "everyone else" for the rest of the day.
Another note: The only seat available when I went to sit down was in the front row. Yep.
The show was amazing, even though I didn't understand very much; most artists performed their poetry in a mix of African languages (it seemed to be a lot of Sotho, Setswana, Xhosa and Ndebele) and only rarely did they use English.
But I don't know if I'll ever be able to go to a regular poetry reading after seeing these poets perform. It was just so theatrical and musical; even when speaking, there's something about African languages that is so aurally powerful.
Thoughts on Live Earth in North America?
'Cause the talk on the Johannesburg show didn't really start -- at least on the radio and in the newspapers (I don't have TV) -- until a few days ago. I knew about the show through an MSN ad a few weeks ago, but it didn't seem to draw much popular attention here. I expected there to be more hype around it.
I should check to see what the attendance was for the Jo'burg show.
I was working yesterday, but I spent most of the day at a poetry slam jam in Newtown put on by Sounds of Edutainment. The theme of the day was "Roll back xenophobia and bring back solidarity"; it was to celebrate or recognize World Refugee Day ... which was a few weeks ago (I'm not sure why they were so late).
Anyway, I'm working on a project right now called Musicians Against Xenophobia, which is bringing together Mozambican and South African musicians to produce songs discouraging xenophobia and encouraging pan-Africanism in SA. See, South Africa is the prime destination for migrants from all across Southern Africa (eastern Africa, too), so there are lots of Mozambicans, Zimbabweans, Zambians, Congolese and other African people here. But, like immigrants everywhere, they face a lot of discrimination, both systematically from government and police as well as in their day-to-day life from regular South Africans. Like everywhere else in the world, migrants and immigrants are blamed for crime, unemployment, etc.
Anyway, so I was at this thing yesterday with one of our research students doing interviews and talking to people and that kind of thing. It was interesting to hear people say they wish the artists at the Coca-Cola Dome (where Live Earth was happening) were talking about a local issue, such as xenophobia, rather than climate change.
Funniest part of the day: So the show is a lot about African unity and embracing everyone as African rather than "Amakwerre Amakwerre", which is a derogatory slur that people use for foreign Africans. As the emcee gets started, he says something like, "To all my black brothers and sisters ..." pauses a second, makes eye contact with me, then says, "And everyone else."
It wasn't a small bar and I was the only white guy.
My CMFD partner, Mandla, had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard. I'm just glad he didn't call me "everyone else" for the rest of the day.
Another note: The only seat available when I went to sit down was in the front row. Yep.
The show was amazing, even though I didn't understand very much; most artists performed their poetry in a mix of African languages (it seemed to be a lot of Sotho, Setswana, Xhosa and Ndebele) and only rarely did they use English.
But I don't know if I'll ever be able to go to a regular poetry reading after seeing these poets perform. It was just so theatrical and musical; even when speaking, there's something about African languages that is so aurally powerful.
Thoughts on Live Earth in North America?
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Godzilla vs. Johannesburg
I found this little guy in my shoe in my bedroom. I have no idea what it is, but it looks like a baby lizard. Lucky I had that CD thingie to capture it.
*No animals or insects were harmed in the making of this picture. After taking the photo, I set him free outside my door ... so he's probably back in my room right now.
(This one's for Kat!)
*No animals or insects were harmed in the making of this picture. After taking the photo, I set him free outside my door ... so he's probably back in my room right now.
(This one's for Kat!)
Look before you walk
This is a graphic warning to anyone thinking about walking around in downtown Johannesburg expecting not to fall into an uncovered manhole.
Well, that's a little dramatic; it's not as if the downtown core is littered with gaping holes in the middle of the street. I think it was mostly a lucky coincidence for me.
Yeah, so as I briefly blogged about this earlier, I guess I'll elaborate on the fateful Saturday afternoon when I almost became a South African Ninja Turtle
... So I was heading to the Johannesburg Art Gallery to see the Africa Remix (I will post photos right after this) exhibit and, as usual, I was lost downtown. In my defense, public transportation is pretty sketchy, so you sometimes find yourself out of the kumbi and immediately lost. It doesn't help that rarely will a venue provide a map on their website. So most of the time I find myself wandering.
Anyway, it's Saturday afternoon and downtown Jo'burg is bustling with street vendors and tons of people. The streets and sidewalks are completely swamped. But despite the intense busyness and human congestion, I'm the only white person I can see, so any efforts I make to "blend in" are pretty much useless.
So like I said, I'm in Central Jo'burg and it's pretty crazy and I'm trying to find my way to Joubert Park, where the gallery is, without accidentally making a wrong turn into Hillbrow or Yeoville. I try to navigate around a slow-moving crowd on the sidewalk by taking one step into the street when all of a sudden ...
... the street is gone and I've fallen waist-deep into a hole. It seems that nobody saw a problem with leaving a giant hole (about two feet wide by two or three feet long) completely uncovered about half a foot away from the curb.
Upon later inspection, the hole had to be at least 15 feet deep.
It's a good thing I was walking kind of fast (as I tend to do when I'm walking around downtown) because my momentum propelled my upper body forward and allowed my hands to stop myself from falling in.
In the end, I came away relatively unscathed, with only a charlie horse (see fig. 1), banged up knee and rapidly beating heart.
The funniest part: hardly anyone seemed to notice. The only people that seemed notice my fall were the two who were sitting on the curb right next to the hole. All they said was, "Ohh" and "Shame."
I made it to the gallery eventually and had a great time.
And then later that night I heard gunshots coming from the neighbourhood just north of mine, which is, coincidentally (at least for the GTA'ers in the audience), called Malvern. There's not much of a story there except that it gave my heart another jolt.
I promise that there really is a real introduction coming eventually. It just seems that I've left it so long now I don't know where to begin.
BK
Well, that's a little dramatic; it's not as if the downtown core is littered with gaping holes in the middle of the street. I think it was mostly a lucky coincidence for me.
Yeah, so as I briefly blogged about this earlier, I guess I'll elaborate on the fateful Saturday afternoon when I almost became a South African Ninja Turtle
... So I was heading to the Johannesburg Art Gallery to see the Africa Remix (I will post photos right after this) exhibit and, as usual, I was lost downtown. In my defense, public transportation is pretty sketchy, so you sometimes find yourself out of the kumbi and immediately lost. It doesn't help that rarely will a venue provide a map on their website. So most of the time I find myself wandering.
Anyway, it's Saturday afternoon and downtown Jo'burg is bustling with street vendors and tons of people. The streets and sidewalks are completely swamped. But despite the intense busyness and human congestion, I'm the only white person I can see, so any efforts I make to "blend in" are pretty much useless.
So like I said, I'm in Central Jo'burg and it's pretty crazy and I'm trying to find my way to Joubert Park, where the gallery is, without accidentally making a wrong turn into Hillbrow or Yeoville. I try to navigate around a slow-moving crowd on the sidewalk by taking one step into the street when all of a sudden ...
... the street is gone and I've fallen waist-deep into a hole. It seems that nobody saw a problem with leaving a giant hole (about two feet wide by two or three feet long) completely uncovered about half a foot away from the curb.
Upon later inspection, the hole had to be at least 15 feet deep.
It's a good thing I was walking kind of fast (as I tend to do when I'm walking around downtown) because my momentum propelled my upper body forward and allowed my hands to stop myself from falling in.
In the end, I came away relatively unscathed, with only a charlie horse (see fig. 1), banged up knee and rapidly beating heart.
The funniest part: hardly anyone seemed to notice. The only people that seemed notice my fall were the two who were sitting on the curb right next to the hole. All they said was, "Ohh" and "Shame."
I made it to the gallery eventually and had a great time.
And then later that night I heard gunshots coming from the neighbourhood just north of mine, which is, coincidentally (at least for the GTA'ers in the audience), called Malvern. There's not much of a story there except that it gave my heart another jolt.
I promise that there really is a real introduction coming eventually. It just seems that I've left it so long now I don't know where to begin.
BK
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