I carried Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” with me to South Africa to cope with blackness in a continent that is considered home even though I have never been here before. When I look around, I see the familiar physical characteristics that make me black on others: dark pigment, coarse hair and big lips. I had expected these people, my people, to look like me without the shame of feeling lesser because of their dark skin. I was right; they stand tall with confidence, walk with pride in their steps and dignity on their backs.
I want to feel connected, feel as if I am black just like them, until my mouth opens, and my disguise is exposed. The distance between them and myself is obvious, but I do not want to think that because my ancestors are also from this continent; maybe not South Africans, but Africa. I walk to walk amongst them, free to explore and enjoy myself, without the peering eyes of an imposter infiltrating their land: an American with the same skin color and physical features, but his history and who he is, is not African.
When I have walked the streets with the other students in my program, who are a mixture of black, white, Korean and Latina, eyes follow us as they know we are Americans confused and dazed in this country. When I am alone, I am free of the stares and left to be myself, invisible and safe, a feeling I never have experienced before in the United States. I am one with the people and not the “other” anymore where my presence is magnified, and my body is ready to be examined. We were told to walk with confidence and not fear, to not bring attention to ourselves and not display American tendencies.
Even with this self-conscious thinking my time here so far has been worthwhile, seeing the Apartheid museum, Nelson Mandela’s old house and his capture site before he went to prison. I have seen diversity like no other in this country: black, white, Indian, colored, Eastern Asian, etc. The diversity here is overwhelming, but the integration is lackluster and interesting to observe. The identities in this country are forced to mingle with each other, but it is rare to see people of more than two races walk together. Apartheid’s reign of separation of races still lingers in the streets, similar to the workings of Jim Crow, and may not end for years to come.
I am still in disbelief that many people live the way they do in this country. The country is not poor, but the unemployment is high and the rich are living lavishly. The separation of classes is evident from driving in underdeveloped areas to turning the corner and seeing bouje restaurants and houses. What I have witnessed so far is breathtaking, and every day I am learning more about this very beautiful and unique country. Every day I wake up not knowing what the day will bring, the people I will meet or a new feature of this unique culture.
Kamal Morgan, a Contributing Writer for the Voice, can be reached for comment at KMorgan20@wooster.edu.