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Charl picked us up bright and early as always He tends to come a bit late each morning, usually because he had to stop
and lecture someone on an inappropriate parking place. This is an important hobby of his. Several times we eavesdropped from
the back of the van as he chastised someone.
"Sir, what are you doing here?", he would begin. His accent sounded, if you can imagine this, like a dutchman who learned
English from a Londoner and an Austrailian.
"Parking," would be the answer.
"No you may not park here, you are blocking traffic throughout this street."
"Oh."
"Please refrain from doing this in the future," he would say and drive off. Charl was extrememly fond of the word "refrain".
He was polite but stern, a good cop. That's why we named him Five-O.
One night we drove by an older fellow relieving himself by the side of the road. Charl gave him the "Please refrain from..."
speech, and then Valencia, a fellow officer, shouted something at the old guy in afrikaans.
It translated as "Your "old man" is ugly, put it away!"
We gave her the codename "Platinum". She, as Bull put it, was ready to go to a nightclub at any moment. She didn't dress
as your typical police officer does.
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| Platinum ready for a hard day of policing. |
The tourbus that Five-O had booked us on, took a long trip around Capetown, stopping at historical sights and showing
off the richest neighborhoods. Most of which did not interest me, but there were a few interesting places. Below is a picture
of District 6. This plain looking empty lot was the site of one of the more egregious of apartheid's human rights violations.
This field was home to a middle-class colored neighborhood, until the regime decided it wanted the land for white homes. They
bulldozed the whole place with little notice. The country was thrown into a state of uproar. This was towards the end of the
regime, and people were less and less tolerant of it.
Each day the government began to erect the new houses, and each night they were dismantled and sold off.
No matter how much was built during the day, each brick and every board would be gone in the morning. The regime gave up eventually,
and the space lays bare today. No one will build on it.
Curtis had been talking all morning about how he felt disappointed that we weren't able to get "smileys" in our dining
car at the train lodge. The rest of us did not share that dis appointment. He kept saying "If you were hungry enogh..." I
suppose there is truth to that, but there are limits. Curtis was reminded of a story from the early days of the Guardian Angels.
It was about Paul Martinelli, who was an Angel who could procure anything for the group at any time. Paul would arrive in
a new city where he knew no one and, as usual, they would have no money and he'd say "We're having steak for dinner tonight."
Every time, he'd find someone to donate the steak dinners.
But on this one occasion, the group was stuck in a small neighborhood, doing a campaign, unable to leave. The only thing
there was to eat was cream cheese and jelly sandwiches or something equally vile. Paul was going crazy. Curtis and some other
angels were with him. Then this rabbi came walking down the street. In his hand was a single tuna fish sandwich for the angels
to split. Paul ran over and snatched it and then took off down the street at a full gallop towards the van. The other angels
all gave chase, but Paul made it to the van first and locked himself in. He unwrapped the sandwich and stuffed the whole thing
in his mouth at once, before anyone could get in the van.
Paul owns a cleaning company in West Palm Beach these days. His business is very succesful, no doubt drawing on
his dedication and resourcefulness he demonstrated so admirably on the Day of the Tuna Fish sandwich.
Here are a few other things we saw from the top of our open-air bus.
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| Tut has heard enough about "smileys". |
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| One of SA's three dry docks, only ones in Southern Africa. |
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| A man waiting for something. |
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| Table mountain with its unique cloud formations. |
Our next stop was an area of Atlantis that was very similar to rundown ghettos one might see in some American cities.
Just like in America, many of the kids had shirts with wrestlers and rappers on them. Those were the two most prevalent influences
we saw outside of the brands themselves.
A reporter and a photographer followed us on this trip. They were the first of many and represented the main africaner
paper. Curtis did the interview on the way, he leaned over to the side and conducted the interview on a slant. I don't know
why.
The photographer couldn't get enough of us with the kids. Some of the kids could breakdance and I exchanged moves with
them. We also played soccer, netball, and did some martial arts. We won over the group pretty quickly because we showed
no hesitancy and no hostility. We wanted the people to see the power they had and convince them to apply it against
the criminals. This city was another perfect place for Guardian Angels.
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| Curtis gives the reporter a slant of his own. |
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| Three stories of poverty. |
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| These kids couldn't stop smiling. |
It was so hard for us to leave these places we came to visit. We all knew that when we left, the people would still be
surronded by thorny vines of crime and fear. We also knew the next time we came back, we wouldn't leave. Not until the job
was done.
The photographer kept trying to set up photogenic situations, but we had to ignore him. It wasn't personal, it was only
that there was nothing staged about our feelings for these kids. They were important, their lives, their homes. That was what
mattered to us. Curtis gave out GA pins to all the kids and I helped the little guys put them on. The kids trusted us implicitly.
It was easy to see how they were lured away by the subhumans who inhabited the dark corners of every place we saw.
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| What lies ahead for these boys? |
We piled back in the van and headed back to the train lodge. Five-O had set us up on an old style train ride that would
take us by a few townships. At least, that's where it was supposed to go. The inside of the train was beautiful and we were
given fruit and cheese. Our car was set up like a living room. Everyone picked out a chair and promptly fell asleep. I realized
then that we had been going non-stop every day. Starting at eight in the morning, and bedding down after midnight.
The days had been so full with images and thoughts. More than enough to keep you up all night lost in them. Yet I slept
as I hadn't in years, and each night I had vivid, clear dreams. All day I was hyper-vigilant. So many stories had been passed
along of the terrible violence in the places we were visiting. Policemen had been killed time and time again just for setting
foot there. People disappeared. In the 11 days we were there 56 murders occurred. 4% of them would be solved.
We weren't about to become numbers like those others, but we weren't going to stop what we were doing either. So all
of us had to be ready. When it was quiet, we slept. The train was quiet. When it finally started moving we got a nice view
of a four mile stretch along the city, and that was it. The ride took two hours and we went four miles. Take a look at some
of us and of a couple views of what I saw.
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| Captain Kirk has the comm. |
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| Curtis "Rock" Sliwa |
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| Five-O thinking up a story. |
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| Me. |
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| Breakwater. |
It was dark before we got back. At dinner, Curtis told us of a test his wife Mary gives him each time he returns from
a trip. She lays five pictures of infants out on the bed. Curtis has to pick out his son Anthony Chester from this group
of five. After his most recent trip, Curtis tells us, he was able to pick out Anthony on the second try. Pretty good, right?
Not really, the other four babies were African-american.
Tomorrow was to be a busy day. Once we had finished laughing, we went to bed.
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