A narrow street, surrounded by cardboard and wood shacks, of dry soil, awaits tourists in Elias Motsoaledi, a neighborhood over huge ghetto. There for our taxi. "Only four whites live behind or around Soweto", Zach explains, which highlights that this is a neighborhood for blacks (mestizos living either). There does not speak English or Afrikaans; People, arrival of rural South Africa and other neighboring countries, speaking the other nine official languages ??of the country (among themselves, with tourists will speak up in Esperanto).
Soon get a guide, Mandla (in Zulu means powerful), offered to teach your neighborhood. I drop a tirade, I smile and he is shown satisfied with my face of bobo for despeluchar. We begin to lowering the close vereda and invites me to enter a house. There lives Gledys, the 55 years, that awaits me Join three friends with which drinking a coffee. Al enter their faces change; maintains the kindness (are very cordial the South Africans) but adds a certain dramatism. Me explains that has no heating, nor water and with gestures points me a basin red where it is washed whole family. Without asking nothing, me relates that has four daughters and her husband the has abandoned. La house falls to blows wind. Only has a room, full of dirty clothes pulled by the ground, a small bed (for five) and a close window by the that sneaks some light. "I'm in unemployment, live support of people like you ", is quick to tell me about intuits that visista is running. I make some pictures; I made the gesture of victory and laughs. It's a little disconcerting the scene (the argumentario Dramatic woman does not correspond with photography, but as I have given the 10 rand as it has confused a bit).
Only has a room, full of dirty clothes pulled by the ground, a small bed (for five) and a close window by the that sneaks some light
The same story of Gledys me repeated shortly after another woman in the middle of secarral, that rushes out of his hut when he sees that I'm playing with two children. Smile, I look and as stand one second glance tells me to come into your home, living there with his five children, no husband, without "money" and dozens of diseases diagnosed by a tñio grandfather (I can choose which one I like on the photo: has very good faces on offer for yellow fever and malaria, you know is a favorite of travelers). I realize I'm a nerd who teach the same story of misery and repeated to get the money. It is certain poverty; there is throughout the country, but here is a photo souvenir trades (Soweto is the "monument" most visited Johannesburg).
Comes the turn of children pounce on tourists. They have learned one mantra to make the money that is always repeated (all followed the same pattern). First ask where you; then your name; then they tell you that if in your country there are neighborhoods like; then pose for a picture they ask spontaneous (among my friends we call this a 'stolen'); then they tell, Point Blank, them from that dinero, who hunger. If you say no take, ask you sunglasses, chamber, one tooth… The kids are fun, but have six master of international relations.
Comes the turn of children pounce on tourists. They have learned one mantra to make the money that is always repeated
Finally, comes the turn of the guide, who has been waiting patiently to hunt prey. After several hundred meters over absolute poverty, Mandla me about the hardships of the neighborhood (undoubted), their only source of drinking water, his lack of electricity, of the important work done by the community to help each other, six that he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize, that likes to wear the old ladies bags and hand crossing the street children, and that without my help, just this moment, may die a 54 orphans. Your kindness, perennial hitherto, becomes when I give her money all I have on, 17 Rands (1,7 EUR). I spits that if that I think I can help many people. I tell him I have no more above (certain) and I explain that I'm tired of being one U.S. dollars andante (took several hours walking around the neighborhood and the sequence is constant); I'm tired of that I try to take money; to change their faces when they do not give them what they expect. He looks at me and walks with defiant gesture upset and, yes, with money in your pocket. I return to my cab; a van with tourists has stuck to our car parked. I see them start the same journey that takes them to another Gladys and other Mandla (observed spread tourists).
Lee explained to Zach, my guide, that is the last time that in a place like. I explain that I'm not here to take a picture in hunger to teach my friends. I say that if this is all you have to teach, take me to the airport. He apologizes to me, tells me that will not be repeated and that the guides are not allowed to ask for money from anyone (for descojonarse; here, you neglect, and ask you for money up KFC chicken Dissected).
Then, in food, in an authentic South African cuisine (mashed potatoes with knife cut), a man begins to make flexible movements against my (The guy is able to do Tetris with his muscles and put his cap on his head with his feet). Me divierte, I'm thinking of giving some coins, when Zach, I just heard that I am up to the balls that I try to take money, sends him to hell and almost end up in big fight (I see how much of it is not easy to understand my message. I realize that maybe I'm the one who do not understand).
PD. I will shortly a report of Soweto. The story of his struggle against apartheid, loaded symbols throughout the neighborhood, is exciting. Some places come to move you. I recommend everyone who is visiting this place, but beware of hungry marketers (are very friendly, but you despeluchan).
Clarification: This text is part of an article I published in elmundo.es. Here is the original text, first person and my personal experiences.
