Masi

Nearly every weekday afternoon after work, I drive my colleague Mzo to his home in Masiphumelele Township. Masi is home to 20,000-plus residents, mostly Xhosa-speaking transplants from South Africa’s rural Eastern Cape, located some 10-12 hours away. People come to live in Masi and other poor townships because Cape Town is perceived as the land of opportunity, a place offering jobs and a better life.

The reality is there are too many people and too few jobs, which results in throngs of day laborers waiting by the road each day, beggars at stop lights, and rampant crime. Despite the problems, however, Masi is a vibrant and colorful community, especially in the late afternoon when I make my way through there. Music blares from homes and businesses. The aroma of sheep heads and stomachs, and who-knows-what-else cooking on makeshift grills, fills the air. Pedestrians choke the streets, oblivious to passing traffic (including the mini-bus taxis, which rarely slow down for anyone).

When it comes to vehicle-pedestrian interactions, I’ve tried to adopt the attitude that this is their home, not mine, and if the culture dictates that it’s OK to walk in the street, I’ll just go with the flow. Mzo encourages me to use the horn, or “hooter,” as it’s known in South Africa. “It’s the only way you will get anywhere,” he says. “It’s the only language my people know.” But to me it’s just another part of the diverse culture that makes Cape Town so interesting.