Here is a video of my camera-shy friend, Malebye, speaking some Setswana.

The Bantu language group is quite large and contains many languages across Africa.   It is similar to the relationship of French, Spanish, Italian, etc. in the Romance languages.  They are not mutually intelligible, but the structure is similar and if you can master one, learning the others becomes easier.  Amongst the Bantu languages Zulu is considered to be relatively easy, Xhosa (the “click language”) is one of the hardest.  Most people in the Northwest province, where I am currently staying, speak Setswana. 

An aside: “Setswana” is the language; the country of “Botswana”, neighboring South Africa, is literally the “land of the Tswana.”

Bantu languages have several interesting features.  They tend to be tonal languages, which means that saying something with a rising, falling, or neutral inflection changes the meaning of the world.  It also gives the languages a sort of musical quality.  In Setswana, like Spanish, the accent is generally placed on the penultimate syllable, which also adds cadence.  As one Tswana speaker said to me, “English is flat, Setswana rolls.”

Bantu languages also have many noun classes.  If you know Spanish or French then you can understand feminine or masculine words as noun classes.  Bantu languages tend to have anywhere from 10 to 20 noun classes, and unlike Romance languages, verbs conjugate differently with nouns from different classes.  In addition, conjugation can take place at either the front or the end of the verb, so you have to train your ear to listen for the verb stem in the middle of the word.

If all this is too abstract, try reading through the examples below and you will see what I mean.

Go tshameka - to play
ngwana - a child
bana - children
ngwana watshameka- the child plays
bana batshameka - the children play
monna- man
banna-men
Go bona - to see
monna obona ngwana- the man sees the child
banna babona bana- the men see the children
monna obona bana batshameka – the man sees the children play

South Africa is a country of many languages - 11 official languages, and several others besides.  In addition to English and Afrikaans (a Dutch derivative), most of the other languages here are in the Bantu language group.   Although regionally there may be a predominant language spoken, nation-wide there is no majority language.   Most people, especially young people, speak English, but it is the first language of only a small minority.

In many ways languages are the key to understanding South African politics and culture.  For example the fact that there is no majority language means that everyone is constantly reminded that they are part of a very diverse country.  Contrast this with the “English first” attitude of many Americans.  We have little tolerance for immigrants to our country who don’t quickly master English.  There is a cultural assimilation that is implicit in this expectation.  We think of ourselves as a diverse and tolerant country, but sometimes that just means that people from other cultures are welcome to come, learn English, and “act like Americans.”  In South Africa everyone is a minority.

Yesterday I walked into a store and was greeted by the clerk in Setswana (the predominant language in the township), then Afrikaans (most whites in the nearby area speak Afrikaans), and then finally we settled into English.  In a gas station I heard the Tswana speaking attendant and a Xhosa speaking driver switch into Zulu.  This kind of linguistic dance is very typical as strangers search for a common language.  Most people here speak 3-6 languages, so eventually something works.  As a pretty much one-language guy I am somewhat of an anomaly in this country.  Everyone is politely surprised.

A big piece of the anti-apartheid movement was the right to be instructed in one's mother tongue.  Which is interesting, because that is a right that is expressly denied to Spanish speaking students in the U.S., even in communities where Spanish is the predominant language.  In an increasingly connected world I wonder if there is not a critical polyglot* component of democracy that we have overlooked.

*Polyglot - knowing or using several languages.

     So what is a township?  In the 1970’s the South African government began moving Blacks away from white areas and into concentrated locations called townships.  The word “apartheid” literally means “apart” in Afrikaans.  In other words, segregation.  Many of these townships were located in a new “independent country,” called Bophuthatswana (there were others as well).  Picture reservations for Native Americans in the U.S. and you get the idea and intent.   Although apartheid ended, the physical relocations remained an accomplished fact.  Most of the schools I will be visiting on this trip are located in townships.  Part of the current struggle in South Africa is to undo the social and economical damage of apartheid while preserving and strengthening these communities.
    As Malebye and I walked through the township he recounted some of the hardships he endured under apartheid, such as being forced to carry a passbook at all times.  To travel to another town, even for work, you had to get permission from the authorities.  They did not want people leaving the townships freely.  To be caught without an authorized passbook meant a beating, or jail, or both.  It is important to remember that apartheid only ended 20 years ago.  Any adult you meet in South Africa grew up under apartheid.  Also important to consider, most Black teachers in South Africa were themselves educated under apartheid.  
    Today Malebye surprises me by saying that in some ways education in Bophutatswana under apartheid was superior to what is now available in many townships.  While there was a lack of resources, there was also greater educational independence and a greater sense of unity and purpose.   Now the lack of resources is still an issue, but all schools must follow the same national curriculum and all students compete on the same national exams.   Picture students studying science in a township, who have no textbooks and no lab equipment, taught by teachers who may have themselves received an inferior education, and yet these students must compete against schools with resources comparable to Ithaca high school. 
    A final note: because of the ravages of HIV/AIDS more than 70% of Black South Africans are under the age of 35.  South Africa is rapidly losing the “veterans” of the fight against apartheid.  Many of the youth currently growing up in townships do not feel the motivation of a unified struggle.  They see poverty, crime and HIV/AIDS as simply the conditions of existence, not the consequences of injustice.  For many of them there is no light at the end of the tunnel, there is just the tunnel.

    Well, after 26 hours of planes and airports I am arrived.  My old friend and colleague, Malebye, met me at the airport.  I will be staying with him in the township of Ga-Rankuwa for the next several days.  
    The first day here, Malebye takes me on a tour of his township.   Ga-Rankuwa was built under apartheid as a forced resettlement location (more on this later).  Now it has a population of several hundred thousand.  Malebye’s area is one of the nicer sections.  Most families here are part of the growing black middle class.  There is electricity and running water in the houses, which are built of brick.  As we walk I am struck by the dry veldt in the distance, dotted with thorny acacia trees.  Seasons are reversed in the southern hemisphere, so it is autumn now.  The exposed earth is red, and in the distance are the Magaliesberg Mountains.  The sky is clear and the sun feels close (it is in fact more directly overhead, even in autumn, than it ever gets in Ithaca). With my eyes closed I could locate the sun in the sky just by the weight of the heat.  Malebye reminds me to walk slowly, “not like an American”, so as not to get over-heated.
    As we follow winding paths through the township we greet and are greeted by everyone we meet.  It is customary to say “Dumela” (hello) to every person you pass.  Everyone is friendly and curious.  South Africa is 20% white, but a white person in the township is uncommon.  Malebye keeps asking me, “Could you find your way back from here?”  The answer is generally, no.   He tells me that in the township there is always a path wherever you want to go.  He does not indicate how to recognize it, however.
    We return to the house at dusk, just before a brief, but violent, thunderstorm.   The power goes out across the township.  Afterwards the birds start chirping; they all sound different and exotic to me.  Later the stars come out.  They are all different as well.  Orion appears in the northern sky and there is no Big Dipper.  Instead I see the Southern Cross and am reminded how far I have traveled.