Yes, it has been over two months since my last post and I am sorry for that. My excuse is school and general laziness. So here I am months later attempting to update my blog fans on all the incredible things I have experienced here in South Africa. The question is where do I even begin?! I want to share every detail of every experience I have had here but don’t have a decade to write about it. So here is the abridged version...
I have been on one of the best road trips of my life with some pretty interesting folks, three Germans and two Americans. I willingly jumped off a bridge from the world’s highest bungy jump. I spent one of the most beautiful nights of my life being eaten alive by ants in a place called the Hell. I found the world’s most perfect waterfall. I spent a week in Cape Town getting robbed, eating, shopping, and learning more about South Africa’s apartheid past at the District Six museum.. I attempted to hike one of the mountains I have had my sights set on since arrival. I have made some incredible friends that have only enhanced the quality of my experience here. I spent a week being a tourist with my friend from the UK. We went on safari to one of the most beautiful and even enchanting places I have been to. An experience I will not likely forget. I also did a smidgen of homework and paper writing between all these activities. The learning never ends here though. Everyday, with each new experience I am learn something new about myself, about people, about this incredible country, etc… It’s one of my favorite things about my experience. I know my time is limited so I’m pressured to make the most of it and that means really taking the time to live and soak it all in.
In the beginning my focus and attention was spent on learning everything I could about this new place. I wanted to interview everyone and experience the life of a local immediately. But as I became familiar with the people and the places my South African experience moved into an experience of personal growth and almost constant introspection. I took the information I had gathered and continue to gather and the impressions I had from the people I met and the experiences I had and made it a part of me through my own personal interpretation. I also became more focused on building the relationships with the friends that remained close after everyone settled into their own South African experience. I have met some remarkable people here who will hopefully remain in my “besties for life” category. I spend almost everyday with these exceptional people and it is difficult to imagine my not so distant future life without their positive presence. Later I will write a profile blog for each of my friends here. They certainly mean a lot to me. My friends at home know, or at least you should know, how much my personal relationships mean to me. I love my friends and am grateful everyday for the wonderful people I have in my life. I love my life for the friends that I have and I will never take any friendship for granted. Once a bestie always a bestie!
The last few weeks or so have really thrown me out of my element and left me feeling like a different person. Now that I am back to my “usual” life it’s good to finally feel like myself again, just finding inspiration by simply living life. I can feel the end drawing nearer and nearer. I mean I can physically feel it. I find myself stealing longer glances at those stunning mountains in the distance, appreciating the un-American appeal of this country more, smiling when I hear the clicks of the beautiful Xhosa language, just trying desperately to take it all in before I leave. You know the feeling you get when you love something so much that you just want to squeeze it so tight leaving it temporarily breathless. That’s how I feel about South Africa. I just want to squeeze you with my love South Africa! I have roughly five weeks left and I intend to make the very most of my time left here. I have never really been affected too much by change but I fear that coming back from this life might finally break me.
Friday, March 11th was my dear friend Holli-Aynn's birthday. I won't mention her age because it's irrelevant. What's really important is that
A. She was born in the first place to grace this beautiful world with her beautiful presence.
B. Somehow our paths crossed as roommates only to become friends for life. Serendipity? Maybe. All I know is that I'm so fortunate to have ended up with such a wonderful friend.
C. She has been an inspiration to me from the very beginning.
D. I actually remembered the actual date of her birthday this year! I always get it off by two days or so.
Holli, this is my tribute to you, one of my very best friends in the world. You are such an amazing person with a beautiful soul and I am forever grateful to have you in my life.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I really need to be better about writing immediately after an event that throws me into a pensive state for hours. It’s better that I write down all the those thoughts and feelings instead of waiting a week allowing them to get muddled in mundane thoughts of everyday life. Here I am a week after having one of the most interesting weekends of my life and I am already struggling to remember all of the details. An abridged version of the story has already been repeated over and over again turning my experience into this short and uninteresting narrative. I am going to correct that now by writing about my incredible weekend sparing no details. Sorry folks it’s going to be a lengthy post but it’s for posterity (hopefully most of you know me well enough to know that’s a joke).
Friday
By Friday morning I had only known about my involvement in the Vredendal 2011 Arts & Cultural Festival for two days. I also had no idea where I was going or who was to be picking me up at the gas station where I arranged to be picked up. I was told they needed my help all weekend and that I should brace myself for an intensely busy weekend. So I headed to the gas station with my heavy duffle (I always overpack) whilst trying to convince myself that it was a good idea to get in a car with a stranger and head to a town that I had never heard of that I thought started with an “h.” By the time I made it to the gas station I still had a few minutes left before our scheduled departure time so I decided to get some cash for the weekend and a Coke Light for the ride. I assumed that the person I was supposed to be meeting would be able to easily determine that I was the young American he was supposed to be picking up. I was right. As I was getting my cash I saw an Audi pull up to the station. My thoughts went something like this, “Hmm…that would be interesting if a representative of an NGO picked me up in a fancy Audi…that can’t be him.” Although secretly I was hoping it was because that meant the three-hour ride would be spent in nice chilly air-con. Soon after the Audi pulled up a man approached me and asked if my name was Susan. I’m sure I looked confused because his follow-up question included my last name. Oh right, yes I am the girl you are looking for but my name is Sarah. Vukele laughed and apologized for getting my name wrong. I assured him it was “no biggie” as both names are very common American names and I probably look just as much like a Susan as I do a Sarah. We had a quick intro and I told him I was going to grab a Coke Light before we headed out. As we were walking out of the station he directed me to his car. I started walking towards this older truck with writing on the side and he corrected me by pointing to the Audi behind it. Yes! I opened the passenger side door ready to climb and that’s when I met Songezu. He started to climb out to let me sit in front and I insisted he stay put and that I would be perfectly fine in the back (a less awkward seating arrangement for me).
We were finally on our way! The anxiety I always feel before throwing myself into a potentially awkward situation soon began to subside. Both of these men seemed non-threatening and pleasant. The small talk and chit-chat soon started and my anxiety was replaced with pure joy. I LOVE talking to South Africans (this is the term I have decided to use for everyone I meet here unless specifying a race is essential to the integrity of a story). People here seem so much more involved and interested in the social aspects and politics of the country than anywhere else I have ever been. I guess they have to be as many people rely heavily upon the government to deliver basic needs and improve their impoverished situation, as it has been promising for years. Everyone has something to say, positive or negative, about the current state of South Africa. Vukele and I chatted about such things as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), his past involvement with the ANC, land reform, books he has written, and so many other topics that I can’t even remember. After about an hour the conversation was halted by a phone call and I was somewhat grateful because I wanted a chance to observe the scenery as it passed by my window. The topography of the area reminded me of parts of Wyoming and parts of Arizona. It was beautiful and the mountains were surrounding us. We drove without conversation the rest of the way. Vukele was playing South African music, which was great because up until this point I hadn’t heard anything besides American Top 40. At one point we were listening to a song called “Nelson Mandela” with the chorus sung Xhosa choirs. The combination of the African scenery, the music, being in a car with two Africans, and the conversation left me in a moment that reached me on a visceral level. I was suddenly stunned. I couldn’t believe that I was finally experiencing this moment. The moment I had been dreaming of for years now. The dream of being in Africa hanging out with local people while enjoying breathtaking scenery. I was wondering if this is that “African experience” everyone is seeking or if it is different for everyone. It was definitely one of the African experiences I came here for.
We made it to Vredendal around 15:00 and we went straight to the township where the festival was to be held. I met the director of the event, Nicodemius, and he promptly gave me instructions on my where I was to go and what my responsibilities would be. While I waited for him to be ready to take me to the venue I engaged in a conversation with Songezu for the first time since we met awkwardly three hours before. He told me how the township he was from was on an even lower socioeconomic level than the one we were standing in. He told me about how they didn’t even have a local clinic and so in the case of an emergency they have to drive an hour to get to a hospital (it is the same for my family where we live). He told me that they don’t have paved roads so when it rains everything turns to mud and it makes it really difficult for people to get to work. He told me a little about his initiation and the rites of passage tradition for his tribe. The details he gave on the initiation process were limited because of the sacredness of the ritual. I was unaware that such rituals still existed in the modern world. I want to learn more about traditions that are not being abandoned for the sake of modernization. It’s fascinating to me that certain cultures are able to maintain their cultural traditions in the face of a world of such rapid globalization. I love it.
I was brought to the Catholic Church where I was to be venue manager for the drama groups. Nicodemius gave me a five-minute briefing on my responsibilities before leaving to take care of other business. The first show was supposed to start at 5pm but it didn’t start until almost 7pm because of technical difficulties like the sound and light technicians not showing up until 15 minutes before the show was supposed to start. The audience for the first show consisted of five whole people. Yep, that’s it. The kids performed for five people. They still put on a great performance and enjoyed doing it. None of the plays had elaborate sets or anything resembling a set for some of them. The set for the first play consisted of a trash can. The children from the first play stayed to watch the next one to show support for their friends. I really appreciated this. The children were the biggest supporters for the whole weekend. There was a sincere sense of community between the kids and it could be felt through every laugh and smile given for the performers. The next play was disturbing to me only because it was based on such heavy material and the actors could not have been any older than fifteen. The play included themes of spousal and child abuse, rape, murder, and other issues that make up a severely dysfunctional family. All of the plays were acted out in Afrikaans, which I do not understand but it was impossible to miss the message of this play. However, there were parts where the child audience laughed and I didn’t understand why. I was just kind of awestruck by the fact that these children just sat there in complete comprehension of the plot of the play and it didn’t seem to phase them that such a story isn’t so common in every community.
So the first night wasn’t a great success but I was assured that Saturday was expected to have a better turnout. The night ended with extremely tired me and a handful of other weekend volunteers listening to two singers sing karaoke style to some South African songs I didn’t know in Afrikaans. By the time I made it back to the hotel it was midnight and I was wasted and ready for bed. I went to bed and subsequently had the worst night sleep since I arrived in South Africa.
Don’t give up now! There’s a surprise ending!
Saturday
I woke up at 6:30 or so am to Vukele swimming in the pool that was located right next to my room. I tried not to be bitter but it was difficult. I haven’t said enough about Vukele yet. He is an extremely gracious and intelligent person. He takes about 10-15 minutes to answer questions because he doesn’t spare any details (much like this blog post J). He was born in Soweto and I told him that that must be where he gets his revolutionary spirit. He was a journalist but is now a businessman who dabbles in several industries while working with RUDNET (the NGO putting on the festival). He is a good friend I hope to keep.
We left for the township in high hopes for a successful and fun-filled day at the festival. It took about an hour after starting the day to realize that the day was going to be just as bad or worse than the day before. All but two events were cancelled due to zero attendance. I spent my day with an adopted puppy that I snatched from a neighbor and one of the sound and light technicians, Ian. We spent an hour or so discussing his very interesting political opinions while watching over the napping puppy that I named Klaus. Eventually we decided that we were thirsty and needed to find Nicodemius to ask him what to do with our situation of no audience for the drama group. We walked to one of the other venues to find Nicodemius. He wasn’t there so we got his number and called him. He told us just to wait at the church and carry on. Well, we decided to go get drinks first and I wanted Ian, a local, to show me around. I wanted to buy my drink from a tuck shop, which is a shop that is attached to someone’s home. The shops just carry basic supplies, such as, cool drinks, foodstuffs, soap, etc…. I bought 2 liters of orange Fanta and we continued our walk around town. While we were walking we were getting the strangest stares from people. I asked him about it and he told me it was because he was walking around with a white girl, which never happens in this town. I failed to mention before that I was the only white person in town for the whole weekend besides the RUDNET secretary. People were asking Ian who I was and why I was walking with him. Every conversation was carried out in Afrikaans so I have no idea what his replies were and I had to trust him that it was all honest. We made it back to the empty church and were hanging out with the kids when Franzel came to pick me up to take me back to the hotel. She told us that nothing was going on at any of the venues so we were just going to go get lunch and freshen up at the hotel. I was all for this since I had just gone on a walk through the desert in the blazing heat of the sun and air-con was sounding like paradise. I had to return Klaus to his owner first though. I went to the house I thought was the owner’s but it turned out to be the neighbor. He was strange from the very beginning but he brought me over to Klaus’ owner’s house. He just walked in and started shouting the owner’s name that I can’t remember. The owner was preoccupied and so the neighbor-man began to show me around the house and introduce to me his family by the pictures on the wall. The owner finally came and I told him I named the puppy Klaus and thanks for letting me keep him for the afternoon. He liked the name and said he would keep it. I was in a hurry so I thanked him again and started walking back to the church. The neighbor man caught up with me and started asking me all the usual questions. When I told him I was interested in learning about different cultures he mentioned that his brother-in-law worked for the Ministry of Cultural Affairs before and that I should come in and talk to him. I told him I was in a serious hurry as people were waiting on me. He told me it would only take a minute so I agreed. I wasn’t worried about anything happening because besides that fact that I did not receive any creep vibe from him it was broad daylight and my peeps knew where I was. So I went in and had a quick chat and right when he offered me a glass of water I told him again that I really had to go this time and that I was sorry because I would actually really love to stay and chat. I couldn’t believe how comfortable the people were with so freely allowing a stranger into their household. I mean I am sure I don’t usually come across as a very threatening person to most but I have a feeling they will be just as hospitable with the next stranger who comes along.
After we freshened up at the hotel we headed back to assess the situation. At this point the festival hadn’t been officially cancelled and so we went to see what needed to be done. We arrived and everything was in the same state as we left it. We headed to the primary school, which was the venue for the dancing. When I walked in I was amazed to see people. There were a lot of teenagers and other kids in a circle formed around other kids having a dance-off. I’m not an expert on dancing but these kids had some serious break dancing skills. They were pretty creative with their dance moves as well. It made me wonder if they had ever seen the movie “Step Up.” After awhile Songezu told me that they were going to checkout some of the other venues and asked if I wanted to stay. Absolutely was my answer. I was having just as much fun as these kids. While I had been watching all this dancing my need to have to go to the bathroom was growing into an emergency but I was waiting for the right time so I wouldn’t miss anything. You know, it’s like when you’re watching the movie you just waited in line for two hours to see and halfway through it you realize that you actually shouldn’t have drank an entire gallon of Coke because now you have to miss the most climactic moment of the movie. Anyways, it seemed like there was never going to be a good time to go and it was only a #1 emergency so I went on a search for a bathroom. I eventually came upon a hallway that smelled like a septic tank so I decided to follow the smell and found a horrendous bathroom. Not only did it smell awful but there was also bathroom trash everywhere along with poo smeared on the walls and toilet seats. It was gross! Oh well I told myself and put some toilet paper down on the seat and made it quick. Not quick enough though. I heard the music stop followed by a rush of kids to the bathroom. Not just any kids though…boy kids. I was using the boys bathroom and now I was nervous. I didn’t know what they would think if they saw a girl walk out of their bathroom so I froze and just sat there! Someone tried to open the door and that’s when I decided I had to make a move. I was worried that some kid would climb up the stall wall on the other side and look in to see who was taking so long to come out. Having zero desire to be caught with my pants down I finally moved from my stunned state and pulled myself together. I will just wait it out I thought. I will just wait for all of them to leave and then walk out casually as if nothing was weird or wrong. I waited next to the door for what seemed like forever until I heard some noise behind me. There he was, the boy I predicted to climb up the wall and see who was taking forever in the bathroom. We made awkward eye contact as he tried to understand why I was huddled in the corner of the bathroom stall. I was busted so I saw no reason to hang out in the disgusting, foul smelling bathroom any longer. I walked out and went right past the little boy spectators not even bothering to wash my hands because there was not a chance that bathroom had any soap.
I walked out into the streets to hang out with the kids and very suddenly had a group of kids surrounding me. It was strange. I have never had any kids show any interest in me and that’s the way I typically like it. These little guys were curious and sweet. We tried to communicate with each other with hand gestures and eye contact, as I can’t speak a lick of Afrikaans and vice versa. Wherever I went they followed. I wanted so badly to be able to talk to them. I gave a little girl my beflowered bobby pin and put it in her hair. That was a mistake because suddenly every kid wanted a gift from the white person. Luckily and sort of unluckily my ride pulled up at that moment. I felt guilty climbing into this fancy car but I needed to escape the mistake I had made and get away from all the hands being held out. It was my first experience being a white and blonde novelty. It was my first experience standing out as white and feeling it. I needed a chance to regroup and assess the situation. I still wanted to be with the children but I needed to come back mentally prepared on how to handle myself in the situation. I am no expert on children; in fact, I have spent most of my life trying to be just the opposite so this was a good experience for me.
Later that night the 2005 South Africa Idol winner came to the primary school to put on a concert. It was the first time that weekend that a venue was packed. The kids were so jazzed about her visit. While we waited for her to arrive the same couple from Friday night sang a few songs. I sat on the floor with the kids and one of the little girls (I really wish I could remember their names) sat behind me and played with my hair while singing along to the song at the top of her lungs. She was the cutest and was always trying to show me how great her dance moves were. Another great thing about the kids was that anytime an upbeat song came on they immediately stopped what they were doing and started dancing. They danced like adults but not dirty (well most of them). They just loved music and dancing. Later, I went outside for a break to talk to my mom and a group of them followed after me calling my name and I don’t know why but it made me feel so good. I think I just really wanted to show them that interracial relations can be on friendly terms. Earlier, Ian told me that the typical white person that visits the town does not interact with the people unless necessary. I guess I just wanted to try and make a difference in the precious opinion of the future generation. It’s very naïve and idealistic I know but I think that’s just how the moment made me feel. It was so different from anything I had experienced up to that point in my life. I still can’t really sort it out, obviously.
After the concert, which was amazing, we went back to the hotel; I went to bed and woke up the next morning ready to be back in Stellenbosch. I left realizing that that might be the last I see of those kids. The first time any persons under the age of 13 have made a positive impact on my opinion towards children. It’s interesting because while I was trying to leave a positive impression for the children they were busy teaching me about the value of children. I wonder how long it will last. I do think that those children will hold a special place in that place in your body where memories of special people stay.
Ok here is a reward for you if you made it all the way to the end!
Some interesting South African language facts
Amandla means power to the people in Xhosa
Instead of saying “text me” people say “send me an sms”
The word “really” is replaced with “is it?”
Buying airtime means you are buying minutes for your phone
There were more but I can’t remember them now. Next time my preciouses!
Once again I have had a very exciting week and therefore have a lot to blog about. My flatmate tells me my blog posts are too long and don’t include pictures which to me sounds like the perfect recipe for blog boredom. So in an effort to maintain reader interest I am taking suggestions on how to vamp up my blog. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the pictures because blogger won’t let me upload them for some reason. So I welcome suggestions on how to add flair to my blog without pictures!
Alright, onto the post. I will start with the major events from the past week and fill it in with little details later.
A trip to parliament:
Last week I had the opportunity to visit a parliament sessions with my South African Politics class. It is now a memory that I will forever cherish. What an incredible experience! The session was held for the first set of debates on President Zuma’s “State of the Nation” address. President Zuma was in attendance and despite the fact that opposition parties were criticizing his presidential agenda he seemed to be in good spirits. I won’t go into too much detail about the debates because I am trying to maintain reader interest here. All you need to know is that the debaters displayed a great deal of showmanship and were highly entertaining. I have a feeling that when people think of parliament sessions they start thinking of other boring things to relate it to: waiting in line at the DMV, watching re-runs of the Three Stooges, and/or reading any book written by Nicholas Sparks, just to name a few. Well, I am here to dispel this rumor! Parliament is fun because I, one of the most fun people you know, was thoroughly entertained during my short visit.
After we watched a few key speakers we were brought to the restaurant where the parliamentary members eat during break. Our guide, a member of parliament himself, treated everyone to coffee and cake while enlightening us on the game of politics. He then proceeded to give us a tour of the building, which included a visit to the old session room (not sure what it’s called) where National Party (apartheid government) used to meet. Our next stop was the library. Ok, this library was amazing! Remember the library that Belle gets as a present from the Beast in the Disney classic? Well, this library looked like that only on a slightly smaller scale. It had library ladders, a spiral staircase, and books galore! So much knowledge!
The whole day was a perfect combination of new experiences and learning. It’s definitely going to be remembered.
A trip to Cape Town:
That weekend I went to Cape Town with some friends. We met Saturday morning and took the train to town (no train drama this time). Shortly after arriving we swapped our travel clothes for our swimming costumes (that’s what they call a swimsuit here) and headed to the beach. Clifton beach is my new favorite beach because the sand is perfect, there are boulders to climb around on, and the view is breathtaking. The only flaw with the Western Cape beaches is that the water is FREEZING! I like to compare it to glacier water because I am certain there are local underwater glaciers making the water ice cold. There is no other plausible explanation. After about three hours of the swim, layout, swim exchange I decided to take a walk around. As I walking down the beach I realized that these South Africans have some odd beach behavior. I spotted a man standing on his head, a dirty hippie rock climbing without any gear, and some kids playing this strange beach paddle game. It was a good walk.
After beach time we headed back to the hostel to quickly freshen up and head to Mama Africa to meet some friends we had met on our trip to Cape of Good Hope. We had a delicious dinner while becoming more acquainted with our newfound friends. We made some loose plans to join our friends back at their apartment to check out this awesome roof they kept talking about. The roof is amazing. It has a gym, a pool, Jacuzzi, and not to mention a spectacular view of Cape Town. Unfortunately we didn’t our rooftop access was cut short due to something close to 30 knot winds. It was crazy! So we joined them for some small talk and drinks in their really nice apartment and then later back to Long Street for more shenanigans. I cannot include myself in the Long Street shenanigans though. I stayed behind and went to bed like the grandma that I am. I was the oldest one there and I am not used to that. Let me tell you that I did not like that! Now I know what it feels like to be the oldest and I don’t ever want to experience that again! EVER!
Loose ends:
So I realized later after I posted my blog entry titled “Mullet Madness” that I never actually explained what this means. Although it is pretty much self-explanatory I will give you a brief description of what Mullet Madness is referring to.
For some unknown reason Stellenbosch, South Africa’s Mullet Per Capita (MPC) rate is MUCH higher than all the Midwest and Southern American states combined. Nearly every young chap has been severely misinformed about how cool it is to sport a disgustingly designed mullet. Yeah, they come in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes and they are all just awful. No one understands this phenomenon and I’m sure the university is employing bright young students to conduct research to find the root of this evil.
Also, I need to make mention of what this blog post is referring to as well. It’s just that lately I have been feeling like I am living a lifestyle similar to that of a princess. Despite the obvious and unfortunate lack of people waiting on me hand and foot I feel I lead a vey privileged life. I am so fortunate to be here in South Africa and yet I feel that this fact is too often lost on me. I, of course, love it here and am extremely grateful to be here but I feel like I need some sort of daily ritual to make sure I don’t forget how blessed this life of mine really is. I also sleep as much as I think the average princess does. I have never slept so much in my life (if I don’t count holidays)! I am working on being more active in my daily life and more proactive with my academic life to help cut a few of my sleeping hours out. It’s working so far. This weekend will hopefully help too because I will be spending the whole weekend at an arts festival as a volunteer for an NGO. But I will save the details of that for the next post.
Before I head out the door everyday I have to mentally prepare myself for the risk I’m about to take and eventually come to terms with the fact that I actually might die today. Ok maybe I’m being a little melodramatic but after several times of almost getting hit by a car I feel I reserve the right to sensationalize my everyday walk to AND from campus (I typically make 2-3 trips a day).
Let me explain. The game of chicken isn’t limited to motor vehicles vs. pedestrians. It’s more a game of any mode of transportation vs. the other all holds barred. Now I am confident that there are some historical root causes as to why the Stellenbosch culture has adopted such a lifestyle of everyday reckless endangerment and I am determined to identify them. Here are some factors I am currently investigating. Is it because the sidewalks are too small? If I wasn’t clear before, the game is also played human vs. human. The sidewalks are actually pretty small (by American standards) with space enough for about two people side-by-side. Also, there is no directional system of right or left side of the walk going in opposite directions as there is in the states. For example, you may be walking on the right side of the walk and someone else walking in the opposite direction also on the right side. Now what?! Who is obligated to move? There is no one else on the sidewalk so there is room for only one of you to move. Well, typically the other person is oblivious to the fact there is exists such a concept as shared sidewalks and by this point you are so annoyed by people just shoving you out of the way that you are determined to not move. You hold your position but the other person is getting closer and closer. Now you both feel the tension caused by the awkwardness as the gap between you is quickly closing. Who is going to bail first? Me. I ALWAYS bail first. Yes, I am aware that my cowardice only perpetuates this terrible sidewalk system.
Cars are a completely different story. Playing chicken with humans doesn’t typically end in injury or death but playing with cars can lead to such consequences. There is a four-way stop on the way to campus (the one where my longboard got ran over) and it is the most treacherous obstacle to pass. First of all, no one and I mean NO ONE stops. As a side note, their actions appear to be symptomatic of a disease called “human blindness.” This is a very serious disease in which a person cannot distinguish between humans and air immediately upon entering his/her car. When you get to the point of the four-way stop in your journey to campus it’s suddenly “every man for himself” to get across. A few of my friends have become so frustrated that they have taken to playing the game of chicken by daring the cars to run over them by refusing to stop or hesitate before crossing the road. It’s a very dangerous game because the cars WILL run you over. Fortunately, I have not lost any friends in this battle and I hope it stays that way. The other day I attempted to play this game and was nearly run over by a blonde in a BMW. She was clearly in such a hurry that justified her risking a human life to get to her destination that much faster by not stopping for half a second.
So clearly I am a little frustrated and I will stop ranting for those of you who have made it this far into the post. I realize now that I abandoned my ideas of root causes of how this phenomenon came to be in the first place. Well, other factors other than small sidewalks include: lack of full-stop enforcement at stop signs, lack of respect for personal space, a new breed of brazen selfishness, a mental state of UNawareness shared by all, no sense of responsibility, etc… Those are just some of the many that I am considering as possible factors. The one thing I know for sure is that there has to be another solution to this problem other than the everyday game of chicken.
So it’s been awhile since I updated my blog. Don’t worry though; the length of this blog post won’t reflect the amount of time that has lapsed since my last novella. Of course A LOT has happened in the last two weeks, classes started, I went to my first rugby match, I met MORE Norwegians, and I was selected to be on the ISOS committee! I would love to blog everyday because everyday is packed full of weird, crazy, or interesting experiences that, I feel, are worth sharing. But I will save whoever is reading this the feelings of guilt that would surely come from not being able to keep up with the would be incessant blogging.
It is currently Friday and I am now two weeks into classes. I love all my classes! I am taking South African Politics, Political Risk Analysis, and Comparative Political Economy. I know they don’t sound as fun as the Wine Tasting class or even the isiXhosa language class that I really wanted to take but they are interesting to me. Tonight I am staying in to write a paper for next week so I can go hiking aallll day tomorrow! The International Student Organization of Stellenbosch (ISOS) plans activities for the international students and tomorrow is a 17km hike that has waterfall breaks! I have had a hankering for a hike so I am pretty excited to finally go hiking in South Africa!
Around day 4 of my being here I decided I wanted a longboard. I actually decided before coming here that I would try and relive the glory days of Hawaii when I would just cruise around on my skateboard by getting a longboard for transportation. The problem with a skateboard is that the wheels are too small so if I hit the smallest of rocks it would throw me off and suddenly I would find myself sprawled out on the ground with fresh patches of road rash on my knees and elbows. The longboard is soooo much better! I can hang tight while running over a soda can or a coconut! The only problem is that it is so crowded here and I am still trying to get reacquainted with skating so I am a little shy about riding in front of people. I decided that I am going to have to get over this because I just dropped a decent amount of cash money on my awesome new board so I HAVE to ride it. Well, the guy who sold me the board told me about this group called, Longboard Stellenbosch, and that they meet every Tuesday night for skating. So Tuesday came and almost an hour of internal debate I basically forced myself out the door and down the road to the “spot.” The spot was a local grocery store parking lot and I was the first to arrive. I was overcome with anxiety and I was certain I was going to fall and make a fool of myself. Luckily, the group of guys was extremely nice and soon enough the anxiety was gone; I took my shoes off, and started to skate. According to these South African sk8ter boyz it’s really “kiff” for a girl to try skating even if she holds a below amateur status. A week later I was riding my longboard to my first ISOS committee meeting and came up to the four-way stop (people only stop if something is in their way, if you’re lucky) and I hopped off my board to cross the street. As I hopped off I kicked my board and it rolled right into the traffic. Everything was suddenly in slow motion as I watched my new longboard roll through the first set of cars. Someone slammed to a stop and just barely missed my board and it just kept going! It made it to the next set of cars and by that time I had almost caught up to it. I wasn’t even aware that I was running after it as if it were a runaway stroller! That’s when it happened. A mini truck filled with at least 10 people ran over my beautiful new board. I let out a screech as I watched it happen. I looked for it to come out in shards of wood and a wheel or two to bounce out of sight. Nothing. The mini truck stopped and I ran over to it. The driver got out and asked me what he had hit! Apparently he thought he had run over a puppy! I was too busy looking under his truck for my board to pay any attention to his inability to differentiate between a puppy and a longboard. Because the truck was filled with probably 8 more people than it was ever intended to hold it was riding so low that my board got stuck under a pipe! That jam packed little truck saved my board from turning into sawdust! I hugged my board and told the gentlemen that I was sorry for the inconvenience. The driver pointed to me and said, “Look at all the people back there!” and then hopped back in his truck to continue on to wherever he was taking all those people. My board survived with just some minor scratches and I am much more careful about dismounting now. Wow, I really did not mean for that story to be so long!
The most exciting thing that has happened in the last two weeks is getting a volunteer position with a local NGO, RUDNET. I went to the interview on Monday to get more information on their projects and the more the director said the more excited I got. The organization focuses on human rights issues and the primary beneficiaries of their initiatives are farm workers. I should be starting next week and I can’t wait to get started!
Everyday I meet more incredibly interesting people from everywhere and I love it. I am taking mainstream classes so I get a chance to mingle with local South Africans.They are quite an amiable group and I hope to make friends out of some of them. I have also been conducting interviews with some students for some personal and work-related research. Conducting these interviews have been some of the most rewarding experiences since I arrived here in Stellenbosch. I love learning about other people’s thoughts and ideas.
Well, I made an effort to make this a short and sweet blog post but alas I am just long-winded and enjoy sharing my experiences too much! I will end it now before I remember something else to share! I absolutely love and miss my family and friends! I hope everyone is staying safe in their igloos while I enjoy the 90 degree weather muahahaha!
So this week went along pretty uneventful. It’s our last free week before classes start. It is also the week of what the first years call RAG JOOL. During the first week of being here we were all woken up around 6am to cheesy American music (like Grease, Hairspray and other American Top 40 songs) being blasted loud enough for the entire campus to hear. When we walked by we saw the first years dancing and their leaders yelling at them so we just figured it was some kind of initiation. Well apparently if you wan to join a residence—a residence is the equivalent to our sorority and frat houses—then you spend an entire week preparing for the RAG JOOL as initiation. The first event of the Rag was the Trolley Races. Forget about what you might be thinking a trolley race is because I promise you it’s nothing like what you are imagining. Each residence decorates a shopping cart (trolley) and someone sits inside while two or three people push them down the raceway. Most of the trolleys were decorated with paper mache and they were actually really cool. Everyone and I mean everyone is dressed up in crazy outfits with their vuvuzelas in hand. Each residence gets their own set of bleachers to cheer on their trolley teammates. They play America’s Top 40 and chant. The closest thing I can relate Rag week to is our spirit week before homecoming…only crazier, more fun, and definitely louder. THERE ARE PICS ON FB! So after the trolley races the next event of the week is Vensters. This when we first realized what all the first years were doing up at 6am dancing to Grease and such. Each residence has created a theme for the week by the way and they are putting their posters up all over campus to advertise for Vensters. Each residence has built their own stage, THEIR VERY OWN STAGE! And these stages aren’t just basic like a platform and a spotlight. Nope. They all have huge speakers, HUGE themed backdrops, disco lights, etc… It’s all very elaborate. It turns out that what we had been hearing and observing was practice for the skits and dancing for Vensters. The residences come up with a skit and then use dancing (not anything traditional it’s more like music video dancing) to tell part of the story. It’s really a high energy week and I honestly don’t know how they got through the full two weeks without drinking a gallon of 5 hour energy a day. Some first years did look really exhausted. Oh yeah and everyone who is in a residence has to be at least an 8 on the scale from 1-HOT! If you are a little chunky but still qualify then they just throw you in the back of the dancing line. Seriously, they are all attractive! It was a week of crazy activities for the first years and fun cultural observations for me. Other than that things were pretty chill until Friday.
Friday started off so well and had such potential to be just a fun day at the beach. My friend Elizabeth (Eli) spent the week talking about how we need to get to the beach once and for all. We petitioned to our other two crew members to come with us but one had school meetings and the other was just being a sissy (you know who you are). So on Friday morning Eli and I head to the train station for our big fun beach day. FINALLY! We catch the train to Cape Town no problem. We arrive and catch a cab with a driver named Niegel from Zimbabwe. He was actually a really cool cat. He was very informed on politics and we had a good chat about Mugabe and his escape from tyranny. After a quick ride we had finally made it to Camp’s Bay. The water here is FREEZING and I’m not just being a wimp. It is seriously so cold. The waves were HUGE. Last time we had driven past the bay the water was calm, blue, and beautiful. Now we had about 15 ft waves and the water was sort of brown. It was still beautiful though. I love big waves and listening to them crash along the beach (cliché I know but whatever). We spent the next 5 hours chillin on the beach, exploring, shopping, lunching, and watching some Africans play beach soccer. It was fantastic! I got severely burnt all over my body and was ready to call it a day at about 5pm. We call Niegel back to give us a ride back to the train station. As soon as we arrived at the station we realized we didn’t really know what train to catch back to Stellenbosch. The last direct train had left earlier and so we were left with an indirect route that would take two trains. Finding out the information of our return journey was not that simple though. We walked two both information desks only to find them empty. After about ten minutes of talking to a security guard we FINALLY figured out our route home but had missed the 6 o’clock train. We wait for the next one at 6:45. We bought some newspapers for light reading and entertainment and kicked back for our almost hour ride to our first stop. On our way there we sat across from a group of two guys (one drunk) and one girl playing loud Top 40 music on their MP3 player. Eventually one of their friends came and started to sing to the girl. He actually sang really well. Like a little Usher but definitely not as hot. Shortly after that we reached our first stop. We got off and soon realized, after much confusion, that the last train to Stellenbosch left early and our train had arrived late. By this time it was 7:30pm and starting to get dark. The two guys from the train, the singer and drunk guy were talking to us while we tried to sort out our situation. There was no taxi to take and as far as we knew no train for Stellies. No one seemed to know for sure what was going on. The singer bummed a smoke from his friend and then serenaded Eli with his sultry tones. We decided to wait for the 8 o’clock train and take it back to the next train station and try and bum a ride from the police back to Stellies. The two gentlemen kept hovering around and drunkie made some statements that made me feel uncomfortable. I began to get a little creeped out. I remembered all the warnings about traveling at night and tried to keep a level head and not overreact. Although there was no actual threat I could not shake the fear. In my mind I was preparing for any scenario to play out. Eventually the guys left and the security guard took us to an empty cart to protect us. The train driver walked past and asked us to please come with him. He let us ride in the front of the train where he drives so we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. He was a sweet older man who looked after us. He has two daughters of his own so I felt like he treated us how he hopes some other stranger might treat his daughters if ever they were in a sticky situation. He told us the safest place for us to go to was the Bellville police station and they would take us back to Stellies. We absolutely took his advice and arrived at the station around 9pm. He walked us down to the subway to make sure there was no one creeping about. We ran our asses as fast we could through that subway to the other end where the police station was. WE MADE IT!. We were now safe and the police said they would take us home but we would just have to wait for their car to get back from the airport. We spent the next TWO hours waiting for that car. I was freezing from my sunburns and so tired. It was sort of agonizing waiting there so uncomfortable and cold but we had a great chat with a gregarious guard named Reino. We talked about the differences between crime in America and South Africa. He told us about the Nigerians in the area and those are some crazy stories! So after two hours the car finally came back and we were on our way! We arrived back in Stellies at 11:30pm. That’s when we realized that what should have been an hour and a half at the most ride back from Cape Town had actually taken us about 5 ½!! OMG! We arrived at my flat cold, tired, hungry, and unbelieving about what had just happened. We relived our day briefly thinking about what could have gone differently and decided we had made all the right decisions with the problems we faced. We hugged because we were alive and knew that the day had been one big bonding moment. In the end all we could say was…TIA…
