Author: Cassondra D. Hanna

Kitenge Cloth in Cape Town: Disrupting the Myth of the African Anthology

When people think of Mama Africa they think of the Atlantic Slave Trade, the West African Kingdoms of the Sahel, Egyptian pyramids, and Kente Cloth, but this perplexes me. Africa sponsors 54 countries, spans nearly 12 million square miles and boasts almost 1.3 Billion peoples across its shores. Concurrently, our United States represent figures of only a fraction of these presented, yet we differentiate Cali Music from Chicago’s, or Northern food, from Southern cooking, and Philly slang from Memphis twang, so why do people come to South Africa looking for a Dashiki?

Far too often, when people envision Africa, they envision a monolith. An anthology of “tribal” custom, hut villages, drums, wild animals and various West African motifs. The largest continent in the world, has become a single unicultural country in the eyes of the Global North and its media. African-Americans, though they are not the sole perpetuators, most often know little about their heritage beyond the historical fact that most of the African Slaves stolen into the Americas did so through trade routes along the West African Coast. Additionally, I believe most of the African peoples we come into contact with regularly tend to be of an East or West African ethnic group, specifically I would say those local to the Nigerian and Ethiopian nationalities. Therefore, the single culture that most ascribe to country of Africa is that of Mansa Musa, and Haile Selassie, Okonkwo, and Kunta Kinte

Such generalizations essentially function as a reduction, also selectively ascribing value to just a few ethnic groups representing just a few fragments of the continent. Why is this an issue? It goes back to my aforementioned example, if we can assign meaningful difference to Ireland and its neighbor 300 miles apart, Britain, then how does it become difficult to differentiate the 5,000 miles between Lagos and Cape Town?

I myself try my best not to perpetuate such, and try to challenge others to do so as well. Though, I would be remiss if I asserted that I have successfully done so without failure at times. When I myself envinsioned a pilgramage to the motherland, Cape Town, South Africa was not exactly the first thing on my mind. Personally, I would not even say it was top 10, or top 50, on my list, but, as I mentioned in one of my previous post, it was the way the cards fell. However, I can at least say that I disembarked on the tarmac at Cape Town International ready to learn about South Africa her people, her history and her culture.

It was of dire importance to me that in my interactions with this place that I did not uphold the establishment of the anthology or any preconceived notions so that I could absorb as much as possible about a region I was completely unfamiliar with. Likewise, I still found myself in utter confusion standing amidst a Market at the hub of Cape Town’s Central Business District surrounded by Dashikis, Kintenge Cloths, African Landscapes and African Trinkets as they call them. Vendors approached me affirming the authenticity of the African patterns, beads, and textiles etc. Its not my place to judge the people, nor do I feel the need to do so, as its not their livelihood that I find a problem with, its the sensibilities of the tourists they must cater to.

Cape Town and South Africa have such a complex and consequential history and culture that gets lost in this pandering; a disservice to the millions of people living and working in this region, descendant of that history, carriers of that culture. In learning about the distinct nature of the country, and specifically Cape Town. It must go with note that the Colonial history and the system of Apartheid seem to have an overbearring significance as to how the modern day country of South Africa manifests. Apartheid ended only 25 years ago, but it still persists in more ways than one, the products of it still reign freely, though not without disruption.

Cape Town, and its interesting history largely stem from the reality of its historical role as a port city. This particular location lie at the halfway point of the Ocean voyages from Eastern Europe to Asia via the circumnavigation of Africa. These voyages also provided the routes of the Oceanic Slave Trade. During Colonialism, the settler colony imported slave labor as was European custom, but as the Americas were served by the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, Cape Town was served by the Oceanic Slave Trade. The enslaved peoples of the cape, were largely brought in from Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Mozambique and Madagascar.

The rape of these people and their own intermixing in a population with a 4:1 male to female ratio, would birth the Coloured ethnic group that populates South African society today. With their presence comes the collaborations of South Asian Cultures and South African Indigenous Cultures, sprinkled with the re-colonized systems of their oppressors, like Afrikaaps. Its because of this I have been more excited about trying Cape Malay Curry and Koeksisters than Jollof Rice and Fufu. Neverthless, still, this group is beyond complex simply in the arbitrary inorganic nature of its creation, let alone its evolution, and I do not consider myself qualified enough to thoroughly dissect or elaborate any further. Therefore, I encourage everyone reading this to do some research on South Africa’s Coloured population.

So again, we come to the point, where we must figure out just what my point is. Cape Town is a diverse place. South Africa has an incredible History worth exploring and the people here come from a collection of cultures that are all worth learning about and immersing in with respect to them. However, all of that becomes lost when we become unwilling to engage with Africa beyond our preconcieved notion of the African Anthology.

In short, I believe everyone who may find the opportunity, should seek voyage to Cape Town, and should see the beauty of South Africa, not Africa, not Headwraps and headcarrying, or poor starving children and giraffes, see the beauty, and the ugly, but see it as Cape Town, and see it as South Africa. See Khoikhoi and San, see Xhosa and Zulu, see Tswana and Sotho, this place has 12 national languages after all! From the jump that means there’s 10 different, yet prominent, cultures and heritages to learn about, and thats just the beginning.

For an overview of the History of Cape Town, and its diversity, as well as the South African nation please check out sahistory.org.za to learn more.

Descent to Cape Town: How I Ended Up in South Africa and Funded My Trip Abroad.

I am currently flying over the country of Botswana, into South Africa. Our flight experienced a delay on the ground, so I have been in this seat for 12 hours with still, 2 more left before we reach Cape Town. Until this moment, much of this trip has felt very surreal. The cost of my experience found 100% of its funding by outside sources including The Benjamin A. Gilman Scholarship, The CIEE Program, and my School, Fisk University’s Office of Global Initiatives. I have known I was going on this trip since May, fundamentally I had been assembling this outcome since October, and in reality, as I am sure my parents would love to reiterate, I did not actually begin to prepare for my trip until the week leading to my departure.

Going backwards, it was in October when I half-heartedly attempted an application to the Frederick Douglass Global Fellowship. A program based in London with 9 other students essentially, instilling leadership training was not necessarily a goal of mine for Summer 2019, but it was a good opportunity and a free trip, why not apply. When I later received notification that the program would re-open its application until February, I took full recognition of the second chance I had been given, and made sure to submit assemble a higher quality application, which was now due around the same time most of my other applications for summer programs would be at the dawn of the New Year.

January through February is a very stressful time for me as someone who is determined to find somewhere to live for free over the summer and earn a check, also while preparing for Graduate School. My first application was mailed in on January 29th. After four additional applications elsewhere, the last one I would turn in was the Global Fellowship on February 14th. These were all competitive programs, and I was not confident in my own strength as an applicant. This insecurity would manifest my Plan B wherein I formulated an itinerary to Study Abroad, should everything else fall through. I always knew I wanted to Study Abroad, however fitting it into my academic schedule and my busy summers has proven difficult. I outlined a grandiose trip, starting mid-May in Senegal, then Ghana in June and South Africa in July, I spoke of the occasion such a cross-cultural immersion would employ based upon the varied divergence in culture, region, climate, and history the countries offered. The trip would have spanned the entirety of the summer and probably come with a price tag of about $20,000.

A hopefully significant contribution to this price tag would come from The Benjamin A. Gilman Scholarship, which had a deadline around the beginning of March. I remember filling it out over the span of a few hours; it was Spring Break, a period I traditionally spend at School on our quiet campus mentally resting and preparing for the busy weeks of Spring ahead. Again, however, this was another application I was not confident in submitting. Most of my motivation for even completing the process in particular, actually resided in the fact that as someone eligible for the opportunity, I was also eligible for guaranteed additional funding from CIEE if I applied to the Gilman Scholarship Program. Lastly, I had learned through the grapevine that my school was maintaining a significant stance of generosity in helping students fund their study abroad plans, and that knowledge is what ultimately kept the complexity of my dreams alive.

Jump to the end of March, I had not heard back from any of my application submissions. Shortly thereafter though I received acceptance to the UNCF/ Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship Program, which has been a top priority for the summer, meaning that I would spend the month of June outside of Atlanta at Emory University. As this had been my number one goal and priority for this summer I was particularly satisfied and elated. Nevertheless, after the hype died down I recognized I still had two other months to fill, it was April, and I did not receive good news from any of the other programs I had sought entrance to.

As decisions to my many applictions would roll in, I found only two acceptances research fellowships and one cancelled the other one out. Elation is a good adjective to describe how I felt upon my admission the UNCF/Mellon Mays Undergraduate Program, but the Summer Insititute at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia would only encompass the month of June, only about 35% of my summer. With the wiggle room the rejections inspired, I had now begun to revisit my plans to study abroad.

Whenever, I tell people that studying abroad had comprised a back-up plan, I get strange looks, so I would like to qualify my situation a bit further. Before this point, it was really important that I earned an income over the summer, and that my accommodations where mostly taken care of wherever I would live because the money I earned over the summer would encompass the majority of my budget for the upcoming school year. With that in mind, Studying Abroad did not seem like much of an option for me, initially, unless those avenues of paid fellowship where entirely exhausted. Additionally, I was wholeheartedly aware that not only would I not find income in pursuing a Study Abroad opportunity, but I would also be expending an extraordinary amount of funding to make the opportunity possible, a bit of a double negative.

Though I did not get accepted into the Frederick Douglass Global Fellowship Program, because I had applied I received a grant to a Study Abroad Program of my choice in Amsterdam, Barcelona, Berlin, Buenos Aries, Cape Town, Monteverde, Paris, Shanghai or the Yucatán. As a Black anglophile only one of these programs particularly appealed to me, and so I begun the process of enrolling. The month of May had come, Spring was over, the semester had long ended. With the month of June no longer available, I could only successfully accommodate one for the three summer sessions. It was in this phase that I found out my submission to the Gilman Program had actually been accepted. As my itinerary had obviously changed, I had to re-apply, in a sense, simply updating my application information, having it re-certified by staff at my university and explaining why my plans had changed. To my now burgeoning surprise, it was once again approved. In addition to this I had received additional scholarship aid from CIEE, not only for applying to the Gilman Program, but for attending a Minority Serving Institution as well. Lastly, I received a grant covering the cost of my flight. Its June, and my trip was now fully funded, the next month or so spent shuffling paperwork around my university, to the State Department, through which Gilman is operated, and the CIEE Programs office. My passport application went out and it was received within my first week with UNCF at Emory.

In all, this is why all of this has felt so surreal, so outside of my own realm of being. I often find myself preparing for things while simultaneously detaching from them mentally as not to let myself down should these things not work out in my favor. When I was packing, when my parents gave me their goodbyes, even as I waited at the three different airports for my flights to Boston, Doha, and Cape Town, full recognition of the journey I was commencing upon was not quite there, I was very much going through the motions. This opportunity is amazing and the manner in which I will receive it was a blessing that not even I could have planned for. Nevertheless, while I acknowledge this, I want to also force the recognition that along the way I found myself rejected from 4 or 5 opportunities elsewhere and attempting to figure a means to come up with funding I had not yet received. With success comes failure. Many may be aware of my summer in Atlanta and Cape Town with new found statuses as a Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellow and a Gilman Scholar, not so much of all the other “Thanks for your interest”s along the way. In case my point here has not yet been achieved, I just really want for anyone who reads this to understand how important it is to cast your net far and wide, don’t put all your eggs in one basket. There is not a single opportunity I have thrown my hat in for that I was sure I would receive, there are even some that I have submitted for just to practice going through the application process. Nevertheless, here we are, a few dozen moments from landing in Cape Town, South Africa, and I am finally excited.

My First Blog Post!

Hello All, my name is Cassondra Desiree Hanna and Welcome to my Blog! I am a student at the illustrious Fisk University, a small Historically Black College (HBCU) in the city of Nashville, Tennessee where I study History and African-American Studies. For anyone that knows me personally, I have alot of thoughts, many opinions, and I am highly reflective, I also love sharing my own experience in hopes it may help others. With all of that in mind, those are the things that will inspire what you see on these walls. Make sure and subscribe to stay up to dat with my latest posts!