I went to town today. I watched the Cape Minstrels (The Coons or the Klopse, as they are more commonly known) march, in their respective troops, through the CBD.
I stood on Wale Street, about a block from Bo-Kaap. I could see the beginnings of the famous colourfully-painted brick houses. I stood with my aunty and older cousin among the other thousands of people lining the streets to watch the procession take place. In my opinion, this would be an equivalent to the Macy's Parade in the U.S. except maybe not as extravagant. The tradition is as strong though, if not then stronger.
The 2nd of January, back around the time of the salves at the Cape, was the only day that slaves were given to themselves. They, in turn, celebrated the new year with their own ways. It truly is amazing to watch the passion, commitment and pride that each different troop has.
I was taking photos of the troops as they passed and a very cute and curious little boy, who was stand on the road barrier with all the other small children, watched me intensely. I offered to let him take a photo himself but he shyly refused. After gaining some courage and, I'm guessing, a greater desire to have the novelty of taking a photo he graciously accepted my second offer to take a photo of the troops passing by. One photo turned into well over 20, most of which being pictures of the tar or the sky, or his finger over the lens. Some were skew, almost upside down and others were blurred and hard to make out. I found it utterly adorable, his fascination and zeal for which he attempted to copy everything which I had done with my camera. I never let him hold it alone just out of safety concerns for my camera should he drop it or never give it back.
I love my city and all it's people. For we are strange and just so different. It's brilliant. I love our culture. I love our vibe. We are defined, proud and colourful.
Patriotic.
--J.
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