15 October 1999

South Africa is an amazing place. It was nothing like I'd imagined it to be.
I'm writing this from the Sabena business class lounge at the Brussels airport, in transit to Istanbul. The Sabena flight left Jo'burg (as the residents there affectionately refer to it) a little late, about 1 am this morning. I slept remarkably well on the flight, falling asleep within minutes after take-off, missing dinner all together, remaining blissfully unaware of the journey until we were only 3 hours out of Brussels. It was over a 10 hour flight, so I got a rather decent night's sleep and feel just fine now. But I won't see Istanbul until after midnight - about 24 hours in transit from RSA to Turkey due to an initial ticketing snafu that I couldn't avoid. What should have been a simple connect at Brussels to Istanbul turned out to be Jo'burg to Brussels to Paris to Zurich to Istanbul, making a difficult trip unnecessarily grueling. But alas, such is the lot of those who must travel to perform.
I was met at the Jo'burg airport by two quiet men. I knew from email to expect a driver. But that was about all. In any event, it was nearly midnight Sunday when I arrived, having left JFK Friday night. And even though I'd had a chance to sleep in a hotel room in Paris near Charles DeGaulle airport, I was still quite bushed. Neither man offered to help with luggage, which I found to be a little odd from what I thought was a "driver," but I'm used to luggage wrestling in airports and thought little of it. When we got to the parking lot, rather than all three of us getting in one car, one of the men got in a small dark sedan while the other took me in a Chrysler mini van. It was only during the drive to the hotel that Mark explained to me that he and Hannes, who was driving the sedan following us, were members of a professional executive protection agency which Sun had contracted to ensure that no harm would befall the scheduled speakers. They were body guards. I was stunned.
I don't know if I knew but had forgotten, or simply did not know, that I would be working with James Gosling at this event. I may have been aware of it, but probably didn't fully consider what the ramifications of that might be. In addition to be somewhat of an icon in the computer business as well as one hell of a nice guy, he's also a bit of a celebrity -- one of a hand full from Sun. In geek circles, he's as recognizable as Bill Joy or even Bill Gates. And in a place a dangerous as Jo'burg has recently become, protecting high profile company representatives has become as common place as it is necessary. So it wasn't so much for me that the local Sun office had hired protection as the fact that James Gosling was on the bill. As a result, all the keynote speakers for the event were equally protected.
I must admit I was a little relieved. From what I'd heard of Jo'burg it had become more dangerous than even New York in the 70's and 80's -- guns everywhere, frequent car jackings, kidnappings and murders. With Mark and Hannes on duty, I felt quite safe.
Hannes was the younger of the two. Mark actually owned the agency. Hannes was built like a college line backer, over 6 feet tall and muscular, but quiet. And aware. Mark didn't impose quite as impressive a countenance, but was probably the more dangerous of the two. A cross be Kevin Costner in the Body Guard, Bruce Willis in the Siege and Crocodile Dundee, his copious military experience and keen awareness of his environment and mission made him an impressive and very likable individual. In fact, I consider them both of them to be friends of mine now. I fully expect to see both of them again at some point, either another business trip to the region, or a personal trip. In addition to his agency, Mark is also somewhat of a specialist in various tracking activities, i.e.: poachers. Whenever there is a difficult issue with poaching in one of South Africa's game parks, Mark is called in as tracker and/or consultant. He knows his country well, including the bush, and offered to escort me on safari, as the case may be. From the vantage point of this couch in Brussels, it's an offer I am loathe to decline. I must return to South Africa.
Speaking there was a lot of fun. Since it was a keynote, I focussed less on technology and more on business. And the future of business. I found the people there to be very affable and receptive; so very likable. There was a gala dinner the night before the conference started, and I was privileged to sit at the head table with the governor of the national reserve bank of the RSA, Tito Mbwene.    The next day there were press interviews and customer meetings. Working with James Gosling was especially exciting. Gosling is so very bright, yet expresses himself in simple, understandable terms. Speaking is not his forte, according to him. He'd much rather be working on code - the consummate geek. But he is also very accessible and quite likable. It was an honor for me to work with him on this one.
And finally, there was Soweto. Spiritually, I was moved by Soweto.   In 1976 there was an uprising in the black township near Johannesburg called Soweto that made news all around the world, because the then oppressive Apartheid government went into the poor community and gunned down students in a church there who were protesting government policies. The shots from Soweto were heard all around the world, and the activities there started a series of events that led to the eventual release of Nelson Mandela from prison and the death of Apartheid in South Africa.
I'd seen television news stories about Soweto many times in my life, and had certain expectations about the place. The stories I'd seen had painted pictures of abject poverty, and anger, and despair. So that's exactly what I expected to see. Yesterday morning we had some free time and I was given the chance to tour the 4 million resident "town" just south west of Jo'burg - Soweto is an acronym for "South western township." Naturally, it was to be a tour accompanied by our body guards, due to the danger. But the local Sun folks were kind enough to hire a local black tour guide who had come from the town originally.
I couldn't pronounce his name. It was a Zulu name. Let's call him George. George was 26, a fluent sometime journalist and occasional tour guide. He spoke a bit of Zulu for us as an example of one of the nine native languages spoken in South Africa. Clicking sounds came from him, articulated in tandem with syllables - sounds like I'd never heard or imagined possible coming from human beings.    I'm sure he was amused at the shock on my face when I heard his native tongue for the first time. We drove about a half hour from the downtown hotel where we'd met George to Soweto.
On the way, George has us drive through a wealthy suburb of Jo'burg, where Nelson Mandela lives today. The lovely, spacious homes there rival most any wealthy neighborhood in America or Europe today, I'm sure. Nelson Mandela has come a long way from his roots. George wanted us to appreciate the contrast. At this point, I was braced for the worst; Mark had pointed out a few "squatter's camps" a couple of days before, where people live in hastily constructed shacks with no running water, sewage or power. That's what I was expecting now from Soweto.
I was so surprised and overjoyed to find that Soweto was far from a squatter camp. Oh, there were a few squatter camps in Soweto - neighborhoods where the homes are made of scrap tin or wooden palates, or any other reasonably available material that can be enlisted to build shelter. I'm sure there were thousands and thousands of such shacks in Soweto. But the vast majority of homes were what George called "matchbox houses" -- small brick homes on their own fenced lot. Small lots, to be sure. Small homes. But my apartment in Manhattan is small, and it too is home. George estimated that about 70% of Soweto was such matchbox neighborhoods. And truthfully, they weren't that far removed from the working class neighborhoods in Utah where I grew up. People took care of their homes, made obvious improvements, added on, kept up with the Jones's, worked hard, struggled even. But there was hope. Soweto is a thriving, optimistic, smiling community far removed from the dire squatter camp that I imagined it to be. And that spirit lifted me.
I began my visit to South Africa with some fear and trepidation born of misconception. I left South Africa feeling like I had not tasted nearly enough of that wonderful land and now I am willing if not eager to return. And I am more hopeful now than I've ever been for the future of humanity on this planet. There is no doubt we have serious problems. But where there are problems, there are also opportunities. South Africa is riddled with both. And as with other venues, other nations, other towns and industries, the internet is bringing positive change to Africa too. If there is hope for humanity, it's in software. And in Soweto.