I was excited to see Johannesburg (or Joburg as the locals call it) in the flesh.

We had studied the Apartheid system during high school, and I had learned about the Soweto uprising, Nelson Mandela, Steve Biko and the ANC (African National Congress). I knew more about South Africa than any other country on the continent.

I particularly remember walking into my World Cultures class and all the desks had been piled up onto one side of the room. All that remained were 4 small, isoceles triangles marked by masking tape on the carpet. Ms. Atwood cheerfully asked us all to separtate ourselves into 4 groups and stand inside the triangles. This was a struggle, as 5 or 6 people tried to stand in the little piece of carpet delineated by the tape, holding on to each other for balance. She picked out at random 3 people to stand beside her.

She then announced that she had marked off 13% of the land in the room, of which she put 90% of the population. This is what Apartheid had done by establishing the black townships. The lucky 3 students outside of the triangles represented the white minority. And the kicker - for the rest of the period, all those inside the triangles would have to find “work” in order to leave the triangles, some way to please those powerful 3 students.

Typical high school stuff followed - one kid had his shoes wiped off, another had a shoulder massage. Promoting myself as a skilled laborer, I ended doing someone’s math homework for the next period. This went on for 30 minutes. I had never before felt myself worried to find “work”, and so eager to please someone with the power to give me something.

This class has always stuck with me - how crowded it was inside the little triangle, the power the other student had, and the resentment I felt towards them, even in this little simulation.

I didn’t know what to expect when we got to South Africa. Apartheid had officially ended over a decade ago. Would we even notice anything as tourists?

South Africa is much more like the US than we expected. It has good infrastructure, and first world amenities, especially welcome after months in Tanzania and Zambia. Although there are 9 official languages, English is spoken by almost everyone. There are glitzy western malls, filled with restaurant chains, movie theaters and cell phone stores. Everything takes place in the malls, in the suburbs as far from the city centre as possible. And except for some workers, everyone is white.

Things began to feel very different as we moved around in the city. Every parking area has a score of men patrolling the lot, whom must be tipped for watching your car. Exiting the mall required us to be stopped at security gates, where they peered inside to make sure everything was ok. Our hotel was completely enclosed by a 10 foot wall with barbed wire at top, and we had to pass by a security guard who provided gated access 24 hours a day.

When we asked about driving into the city, we had a route laid out for us on a map. We were advised that it was safe enough to drive here, but warned not to stray. And for goodness sake, keep your windows up and your doors locked! In a city of 2.2 million, it was safe for us to drive a 10 block circle. The layout of the city became clear - all around from the center, south and west were the townships, no-go zones for us.

We saw no real mixing of racial groups. White people dominated the high end shopping malls and the airport, and given the warnings of crime and carjackings in the city, we didn’t see much else. Although there is no longer a systematic separation, it now seems a separation due to economics and class. My overwhelming impression of Joburg is a city of walled compounds, razor wire, gates and security guards. A frightened city.

We did venture into the city to go to the Apartheid Museum, which was really well done and very interesting. They handed us each an identification card, one for “whites” and one for “coloureds”, where we had to enter the museum through different doors, and could see each other but only through thick bars. We did not connect again until 5 minutes later, when the exhibit paths merged again. At one time under apartheid, there were over 100 classifications for race categorization, each with its sets of priveleges and exclusions.

I felt so sad afterwards, not only for the people who suffered under the system, but for how depressingly similar it was to the experience of American blacks. It struck me that even though the Civil Rights movement brought freedoms over 50 years ago, the racial tensions in the US are hardly gone, but have only been driven underground.

The effects of Apartheid are well intact, even if the official system has been banished.