En route to the Midwest from Rio de Janeiro, we flew through New York City. I had the exciting experience of being whisked by helicopter from John F. Kennedy to La Guardia Airport for the connecting flight to Cincinnati. With a whole day to wait, I decided to explore New York. In my dreams I had identified the Statue of Liberty, Harlem and the United Nations building as the priority places of interest. When I saw the massive transit system, I thought I would struggle to find my way back from the Statue of Liberty, which was on the other end of the island of Manhattan.

The heat was unbelievable, suffocating; but my curiosity overcame my reluctance and I ventured forth despite it. Without much difficulty, I got to the Upper Westside, on 125th Street, Harlem. As youngsters, we knew that Harlem was where ‘Negroes’ lived – confident, fast-talking, well-dressed, sophisticated, and light skinned with naturally long soft hair, talented black people we wished we were. However, on the real streets of Harlem, I saw many faces that resembled black faces at home. In the olden days, where we grew up we used to see ‘All negro cast’ films such as ‘Stormy weather’, starring Lena Horne. I felt as if I was cast into one of those old movies of the sixties – just being there, walking on the sidewalk of 125th Street.

For a long time, I just stood, there watching all the black men and women; some of whom looked like what we called coloureds back home. How they interacted, and for the most part not understanding properly the way they spoke, was a very interesting phenomenon.

Their language sounded like music but I had difficulty understanding their accents. They stepped in rhythm. All types of musical melodies – gospel, jazz and rhythm and blues blasted out of apartment windows and store fronts onto the street. A man blew a trumpet on the street accompanied by a saxophonist. It was truly surreal.

I had read much about Harlem and had formed my own mental images and had always thought that Harlem would resemble Sophiatown or townships like Lady Selbourne, outside Pretoria. The Harlem I saw was a different sight. I was able to quickly locate the famous Apollo Theatre, and was disappointed that it did not look well cared for.