I have more to say than I can fit here right now. Today I visited the township of Langa with a tour guide from the township. Afterwards, I took the tour of Robbens Island where Mandela was held. And I finished the day walking about the waterfront area which is one of the most secure and wealthiest areas of Cape Town.

I want to start with Robben’s Island. One of the great gifts of South Africa and of Nelson Mandella is the power of forgiveness. Part of the tour of the island was spent in the prison listening to a former political prisoner. Towards the end, a woman asked about his ability to forgive, and he talked about the process, how angry he was, and how he came to the place where he is now. How Nelson Mandela managed to endure eighteen years in a prison/labor camp that was designed with the intention to break their spirits, how he managed to emerge on the other side of that as a leader who led the way for Reconcilliation…it is a spectacular testament to the human spirit.

Mandella is a living example of what I’ve always thought to be true: Freedom is a power of our minds and our wills that must transcend our circumstances. That Mandella was physically imprisoned, there is no doubt. But that he lost his freedom…his indomitable spirit that would not be broken draws that into question.

Going back in the day, I had a great tour guide of the Langa township. I saw incredible poverty. Imagine a shipping container, no heat or air conditioning. Now divide it into two. Put a bed and a few cabinets into each half. That half of the shipping container will hold a family of 6 or so. Some may see the poverty and squalor. I certainly saw that, and was moved by that. But I was more impressed by the will of these people to persevere, to struggle, and to overcome their adversity.

My guide had lived in all levels of the township, educated himself, and now owns and lives in a house in the “Beverly Hills” area of the township. Towards the end of our time together, he asked for advice on how to talk to an international audience. He had an interview with an international press outlet the next day. I wasn’t sure how to answer, but pulled from what he said throughout the day. “There is a poverty of the mind,” he said, an inability to comprehend a life beyond that which has been known for generations. They need help to break those walls down, to break out of the prison of the known and the expected, to help envision a different kind of life. I told him that was the invitation to the international community. And once you get enough business people, enough successes and houses in their “Beverly Hills,” those people will want a nice restaurant that they don’t have to drive into the city for. They will want a place to shop for groceries and clothes. And that will start to provide more jobs for people within the township.

Mandella entitled his autobiography, “Long Walk to Freedom.” I am inspired by the people of South Africa, and the walk they continue to struggle with. And I am called to question my own prisons, the mental walls I have cast upon myself. We may be living in the free world, but that doesn’t mean we are free. All to often we are bound to the past, bound to the known, and unable to envision a future unencumbered by our history. Freedom is ours for the taking, but it’s a long walk for us all.

After landing in Cape Town at 10AM (that’s 4AM your time), I had an amazing full day. I took an Uber to my hostel to drop off my bag since check in wasn’t until after 2PM, and began exploring the city. I walked through some beautiful gardens, into the heart of the city, had a wonderful lunch, and then headed back to the hostel. I was grateful to have a companion for the day, a young man named Alex who had a long layover before heading out tomorrow for an internship studying great white sharks. Most people we encountered were incredibly kind and generous here. The geography makes the city beautiful on the outside while the people make it beautiful from within.

There is also a lot of begging and poverty. When I returned to my hostel, I took time to check in and clean myself up. Then, I immediately booked a tour of the townships and Robbens Island where Mandela was imprisoned. I expect tomorrow to be a tough day emotionally.

After a bit more downtime, I headed out in the city for dinner: a venue with live jazz called Asoka. Great food, even better drinks, and the Jazz…they started slow, but once they found their groove, it was amazing. The place was packed, apparently the hot spot for Cape Town on Tuesday nights. I would have loved to stay longer, but I pulled myself away to go dancing. I had a great time there, and was asked if I’d be willing to come back and teach next week. (Sure!) Afterwords, I met a few of the dancers, went out with them, and had a chance to chat.

I got a sense of some of the problems the city, and South Africa as a whole, are facing. In some ways, the insistitutional poverty and associated problems is similar to Baltimore. It’s just amplified to such a great extent, and complicated by more diversity in cultures here: there are British settlers, separate from white Afrikaaners, separate from the Indian/Muslim population, separate from the Coloreds (a term with very different connotations here than in the US), and then there are the Blacks. I can’t believe the complexity of the situation, but a I was encouraged by the young woman who trained as an occupational therapist working in community development in the townships. It seems they are having similar conversations here about race and privilege that we are having in Baltimore.

And I talked to a woman active with her church about several programs. U-Turn, which provides second had clothes and food to the poor, and then hands out vouchers for people to give the beggars in the streets. They also help with job training for the beggars, starting with sorting clothes. There are other groups working more actively to integrate the townships, and bring resources and support to these people.

My time here is filling in quickly. I’m exhausted and in need of a good night’s sleep. More tomorrow, I’m sure.