[DAVID GOLDBLATT] We're headed west--

at the moment we're heading south--

but we're going to the west of the city
to a suburb called Fietas.

[Fietas was a diverse community
with a large Indian population.]

[During apartheid its residents
were forcibly relocated.]

It's official name is Pageview,

but it came to be known
by its residents as Fietas.

No one knows now for sure
where the name came from

and if it has any meaning--
what it means--

but that was the fond name
for the area.

When I started photographing here in '76,

the community was still largely intact.

That's the Twenty-Third Street mosque.

The houses here consist of
some of the original Indian houses

and then those that were built by the
Department of Community Development.

We were wonderful in our ability
to invent the meaning of words.

The Department of Community Development
came here and destroyed their community.

For example, these here were built by the
Department of Community Development.

And as you see, they are now little fortresses,

as are so many of our houses in Johannesburg.

A working class White community,
next door to this,

agitated for their removal.

Whites didn't want people of color
living next door to them.

It was as crude as that.

What happened here is typical of what
happened in almost every town in South Africa.

--[SALMA PATEL] You went from behind,
and you could buy meat.

[LAUGHS]

--I had an amazing childhood,
you know that!

I remember David coming on a bicycle--

coming and cycling.

And I used to wonder,
"Why does he do this?"

I was going to school then.

I saw this man photographing
all these ruins.

In my little world in those days,
this was home,

and I didn't really understand the full
implications of forced removals.

Because of the apartheid regime's
racist ideologies,

this area was destroyed.

Fietas Museum is a very good way
to understand land dispossession,

destruction of family units,
and a community.

These are Paul Weinberg's photographs.

Paul and I have a long history.

He's walked this whole journey with me,
like with David.

I've known them for so many years.

These two photographers were very generous

in just donating the pictures
to the Fietas Museum.

Had it not been their photographs,

we wouldn't have a pictorial record
of my forebearers

and my community.

This shows Fourteenth Street in its heyday.

As you can see, it had the elements
that are essential for good cities.

And that is:
density, diversity, and complexity.

It was a community of blended cultures.

There's an Indian concept called,
"upar makaan neeche dukaan,"

meaning living quarters upstairs
and trading premises downstairs.

It's a very smart way of using space.

The people that were
forcibly removed from this area--

especially in this particular street--
were traders.

[GOLDBLATT] White people, Black people--

all kinds of people--
would come from all over the area

to shop here,
on Fourteenth Street.

The streets were very narrow.

I found that the best way of coming here
to photograph was to ride a bicycle.

I came in on a bicycle with a
couple of panniers on it

so that I could carry
a four-by-five view camera,

or a Hasselblad,

some film, and a lightweight tripod.

I would come in here and photograph
people, shops--

whatever I wanted.

I got to know Ozzie Docrat,

one of the Indian men who had a shop here.

He had a shop just down the road here
which was called the "Subway Grocers."

If there was a big cricket match--
internationally--

he would put the score outside
on the sidewalk,

so that people coming by could see
what the score was.

He knew the tram drivers who came past.

It was not impossible for a
tram driver to stop his tram

and go in there and say,
"Ozzie, you got the score wrong, man!"

"So-and-so is out now."

It was a very popular place
and he was a very popular man.

His home was here.

Right here.

This was the core of the house.

It was reinforced concrete, because it
needed to support the water tank.

When the front-end loaders came in here
to destroy everything in 1977,

they couldn't push this over.

It's reinforced concrete.

So it remains here now as a
crazy monument to apartheid.

He had to move to Lenasia,

which is the Indian suburb
that was set up outside the city

to absorb these people
who were displaced.

The government built the
so-called "Oriental Plaza"--

a shopping mall which
they said would then

substitute for the shops that
they were destroying here.

One day, it is was a Sunday Morning,

I came riding here on my bicycle,

and there was Ozzie Docrat.

We greeted each other,
and I said to him,

"You know Mr. Docrat,"

"I cannot tell you how ashamed I am
of what is being done here,"

"to you in my name, as a White voter."

Then I said to him,
"You know, I've got a problem,"

"because they're knocking down the buildings
and I can't remember what was there."

And he said, "Mr. Goldblatt,"

"I feel as though I've been to the dentist,"

"and I've had teeth extracted."

"And I run my tongue over the spaces,"

"and I try to remember the shape
of what was there."

It was an extraordinary statement.