CITY TRAMWAYS

 Edith Cavell Street in Hillbrow was a steep gradient and a main artery for City Tramways buses. From the 1920s to the early ‘60s tram tracks were in the centre of the city streets, but these were dangerous, became obsolete and were replaced by buses with pneumatic tyres and overhead electric power lines throughout the following decade (the two arms feeding current to the bus often disconnecting from the overhead lines and having to be gingerly manipulated back into place). This was followed by diesel power and the loss of something of the character of the city, as smelly “diseasel” took over in the late ‘70s. 

Rush hour. Several buses strain inexorably up the steep Edith Cavell into the belly of Hillbrow. Sardinelike commuters seated uncomfortably with scores standing in the aisle, clinging to the overhead hand rails and spreading malodorous cheer from hirsute armpits to the gagging lot around them. The entrance at the rear with its single upright pole is ready to spill out a mass of humanity on the asphalt of Edith Cavell, little children with overloaded school satchels squeezing between the multitude of adult legs. The pole is clung to in stripper-like fashion by would-be exotic dancers of the tram. At bus stop after bus stop the South African pastime of overcrowding public utilities makes its way up the gradient. Five or six in a row – no space for a mouse.

This was the normality of a young child’s view of the world. 

Official-looking officious Bus Conductors managed the hordes on their vehicle as their personal fiefdom. By comparison the “Guardtjies” on twenty-first century crowded minibus taxis are consummate diplomats and cheerfully entertaining. The conductors wielded the authority entrusted by their uniforms and the ubiquitous clippers that punched holes in season and day passes with a determination to ensure they could never be presented again. They wielded this authority in a manner which confirmed that in no other field of their lives did they exert power. These Sultans of the tram belted out orders and threatened to eject from their patch of authority anyone, particularly snotty kids or recalcitrant teenagers who dared to challenge. The tram was a microcosm of a city and a country in which officialdom viewed it as their primary role to frustrate all and sundry. It was a power dynamic that gave the least prosperous in their community a sense of authority over something - and someone else. The most ardent enforcers tended to be those who missed the economic boat in their own segment of society. 

City Tramways reflected a fractured, urbanised cosmopolitan cauldron of humanity with power relationships that evolved out of fear and suspicion and that could be manipulated to establish control and a psychological boost for anyone with a modicum of responsibility. A conductor, door keeper or janitor could use the little power entrusted to him to make life as difficult as possible for anyone relying on his services. This authority, dispensed with attendant rudeness, engendered a sense of worth at the expense of others. The little school kids tended to be the powerless targets of surly officialdom who elevated abrasiveness to an art form.

©Paul M Haupt