Yesterday I took the boys to visit the Distict 6 Museum.
We joined a friend and her children and wondered through the exhibits of days gone by. This is a museum of rich history and great pain. It is also a museum that speaks of hope . It is a voice, a small voice, for some of those who suffered at the iron fist of the Apartheid Government. It is a place for our children and our childrens children to learn of our past so that they might not forget and more than that, that these kinds of wickedness might be exposed and seen for what they were and are. District 6 is one of the places in South Africa where people were forcibly removed in 1960.
The museum sets about explaining that story.
So we wandered and talked and read - there is a lot to read- of the busy business streets where people worked in the hustle and bustle of all that work offers. This was a very rich community with a diverse rich culture. We read about the gangs that operated, even then in the residential areas. Set on harm and fighting each other. We saw countless, worn and preserved photograph , set in their time and telling a story. Beautifully rich black and white photos of real people in a very real place. We saw the barber and hairdressers ; the washer house with its piles of laundry ; the music halls and more.
The people who lived near to their work were forced to move many, many km from there work. There was no working transport system for them to get to work after they had been moved, and so for many people, they lost their livelihood and /or had to spend most of their budget on getting to and from work. Most did not own a car or bike. One swift, harsh swirl of a pen on paper, set into motion a law that destroyed peoples lives.
As we walked through this beautiful old church, we talked to the children, trying to give them somehow a glimpse of times gone by. For my friend, this was a very real walk, for it was her family that had experienced the forced removals under the Group Areas Act and so it was her past we were 'looking' at.
The museum is very beautifully put together and I loved the artistic flair of the place. Over tea we sat and chatted about our country. It was a good chat and an encouragement to me. I said these words to her...." I really can't quite get a grasp on this part of history yet. I wish I knew more. Not having grown up here I don't know much of the history. WE were NEVER taught this at school. to which she replied," Neither were we my friend, neither were we." so, we set out together to learn and share. we did not cry this time as we have before, over this sad and tormented past that lives today in the lives of those we might pass in the street ; meet as we shop and even know personally. Apartheid is gone but the wounds are carried. I am glad for museums where the story can be told.
We ended our visit and stepped out into the bright sun. Back into the real world and back to our busy lives. But a part of the story from the museum walked with us as we talked and read some more about Distict 6.
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