A Taxi Ride in Soweto, The Lesson of Katrina

Refraining from judgment is an everyday exercise.

When I travel, I always quiz taxi drivers. They know the most about their city, and they always have great insights into culture. I learned a big lesson about passing judgment on other cultures from a simple taxi driver in Soweto. My wife and I went to South Africa in December 2004, making stops in Johannesburg, Durban and Cape Town. On our second day in the country, we visited Soweto, the sprawling black township located about 5 miles outside of Johannesburg. This was a day I would never forget. Soweto is home to 4 million people. There are mansions in Soweto, but the vast majority of people live in concrete block houses or hastily constructed tin shacks. AIDS orphans wander the streets; crime, especially rape, is rampant; the undertaker is the #1 business, and hopelessness permeates the steamy African air.

On our ride through Soweto, our taxi driver, Jabu, talked to us about life in Soweto. Jabu said that he had lost 6 family members to AIDS, and that he did not know how much longer he could stand living in Soweto. The stress was evident in his mannerisms. He fretted and rubbed his face often. He said that sometimes he was so despondent about his situation that he would drive for hours alone, all over South Africa, just thinking. His hometown, Soweto, was a terrible place live.

Soweto affected me deeply, (to the point that I could not sleep weeks later). I told Jabu I had never seen such poverty and degradation in my entire life. Then his mood turned sour, and he responded sarcastically, asking me about America’s ghettos. “What about Harlem? I’ve seen Harlem on TV! It’s just as bad,” he said. I disagreed, saying the USA had bad ghettos, but nothing like Soweto. We went back and forth for some time, and Jabu became clearly upset. I’m pretty sure I came off like an arrogant, judgmental American. I left South Africa convinced I was right.

Then Katrina hit New Orleans.

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