A culture suffused with Dancing

The day before I went to the apartheid museum I finally had a chance to go clubbing here. I had told Gabriel, a Nigerian fellow who sells religious items during the week in front of the church, that I really enjoyed dancing, so he made it his mission to get me out to a club. I was quite excited for this adventure, but to be honest a little nervous. Perhaps all the talk concerning safety had begun to affect me and create a paradigm of fear through which I looked at the world. On Friday night however, I decided to trust this fellow and his judgment and live for the moment. Carpe Diem! Now, one might wonder why I find it important to update you all on my clubbing experience, but this was truly quite extraordinary. I went to this place called the Harrakafe in Newtown. It seemed like any ordinary evening establishment. Once again I was a definite minority (I saw perhaps 4 other white folks), and this is both an exhilarating and anxious experience. Compared to my other experiences isolation, as I was the only white guy walking around the various intercity neighborhoods, I had a chance to interact. Oh was it a dynamic place. We made our way to the covered outdoor bar and people all around us were sitting in picnic benches. It seemed like any old place, with people sitting and chatting and a few people on the dance floor. All the sudden a song came on that everyone knew. People stood right where they were at and started dancing. It was as if a whole spell had been cast over the establishment. As I listened, I found that this was the music that I had been looking for as I asked students about South African music. I think I was just asking the wrong generation. There was also intermixed music from Cameroon and Zimbabwe. As people danced in their places or shuffled about the room, they began to interact with those around them. I got a few high fives throughout the night. I was just so struck by the dancing. This culture is just infused with dancing. I find it to be truly remarkable. It goes so much further than the night club. During the latter years of apartheid, blacks and colored would get together and dance the toy-toy to both protest the establishment and raise the spirits of those oppressed. The toy-toy looks like people running in place while shaking their hands in front of their shoulders. Back at the Harrakafe I felt less separate and apart from these communities surrounding me.