Tuesday, May 4


Our residence in Johannesburg was situated in the sub-district of Fordsburg. Again, I'm not quite sure of the local history but it was clear that this was one of the Indian area of Joburg - there were times in passing when I thought I was in Green Street or Southall.

It was here that I heard four simultaneous adhans at Fajr, the place where you'll find a clutch of Indian fusion restaurants and shops selling halal food and roti. Dodgy open faced phone shops are all the rage here and even the Jimmy's Killer Prawns has a place to do whudu and pray.

It was like being in a posh part of Pakistan to be honest.

Around a five minute walk from where we were staying we found Oriental Plaza, the shopping mall where Indians were moved to toward the start of apartheid. Although now it was just a place for Indians to buy stuff off other Indians the history and legacy were both still felt in spades.

And yet for some reason I felt comfortable around here, even though I was told I stuck out like a sore thumb (what with the chappal and all). Unfortunately like the rest of South Africa we were warned not to walk around after dark. Shame.

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