South From the Limpopo

I say "thankfully" because Murphy's low-maintenance style frees her from the four-star confines that hinder most travelers' cultural explorations. Her approach allows us to see well beyond guidebook cities into towns that are not shown on any map and areas so dangerous that most wouldn't even consider entering.

Murphy chronicles a South Africa that is in a state of flux. From 1993 to 1995, she traveled more than 6,000 miles through all nine provinces, witnessing three distinct periods of South African history — the tumultuous times before, during, and after the 1994 elections.

Though officially abolished in 1991, apartheid still maintains a strong grasp on South Africa's culture, geography, and politics. Struggling to break free from this system of racial segregation, the new South Africa seems a hotbed of political conflict. Emotions swing back and forth like pendulums, pulled by the intensity of the political climate. Murphy is intent on capturing every last political opinion of each person she encounters.Nomatter where she goes, she probes, observes, and records, striving to understand the South African identity.

However, there is no single identity to be had, as she is confronted by a tidal wave of opinions, no two alike. Policemen, nuns, farmers, bartenders, political party leaders, hairdressers — they all share their views on the current South African situation. The intricacies of change are making an already complex country even more so.

One such symbol of the dramatic change taking place occurs at the beginning of Murphy's trip, illustrating what she calls "the de facto end of white rule." The popular black political leader and former guerrilla Chris Hani is assassinated in the driveway of his home by a white activist. Murphy sees this event as a catalyst for Nelson Mandela's replacing President de Klerk as the figure with the clout to prevent social eruption. Chaotic upheavals are somewhat averted through a series of "safety valve" events — rallies, memorials, and religious services — that allow those enraged by the Hani murder to vent their anger without violent retaliation. Murphy attends these events, knowing her white skin often brands her, however unfairly, as the enemy.

Throughout her tour, Murphy continues to explore every aspect of the society. She enters the dorps (villages of white Afrikaner farmers) as willingly as the townships (settlements of black "surplus people"). Some gatherings are as informal as sharing beer on a stoop with Xhosa women. Other visits are more complicated and dangerous. For example, her arranged stays (with bodyguards in tow) in Cape Town's poor black township of Khayelitsha attract unwanted attention.

This is a study of people and their thoughts, perceptions, and ideals. Murphy does not allow formulaic stereotypes to cloud her judgment and never associates skin color with moral standing. This is a particularly notable attribute, especially in a country where classifications, both political and racial, can be grounds for discrimination, thievery, and even murder.

For all the hatred and inequality that Murphy witnesses, she is not without hope for the people of South Africa. Libraries and schools seem to be taking some of the first institutional steps toward change. In one dorp, an Afrikaner librarian admits that "Afrikaner literature is so limited!" Murphy delights in this hint of change to come: "...my mind's ear heard a grinding noise: [the] skeleton revolting." Likewise, her own ability to move throughout different South African communities is itself a hopeful statement for the possibilities of the new South Africa.

Though Murphy focuses on South African political happenings, they are not her only interest. She describes the silence of a dramatic mountain region speckled with yellow orchids and a rainbow of butterflies just as sharply and gracefully as the clamor of a chaotic political rally. Alongside this varied South African terrain, Murphy encounters the peaceful silences that are a sharp contrast to the bustle of city life. These are the moments, she says, that reach the "deep inner level where human beings, as they mature, get themselves sorted out."

Some travel books are styled in the poetic haze of an Impressionist painting, while others chronicle culture with the pristine accuracy of a photograph. Murphy's perception, on the other hand, gives us an astonishingly touching portrait. Her images capture a precise instant in the life of each subject as well as the inner spirit that gives each one a unique identity. South From the Limpopo is ultimately a paradox: energetic and sluggish, conflicted and beautiful. As a talented writer and traveler, Murphy successfully transports this complex vision of the new South Africa into her reader's mind.
&151; Kristen Zecchi