It’s been quite an eventful week as my activities have kicked into gear...
Tuesday night one of my friends called and asked if I wanted to go to the Fat Cactus for margaritas. This place is about a block from my building, which is just no good. “Well,” I said, “It’s a Tuesday and I have to get up at 5am tomorrow so.... yea, I’ll meet you downstairs in 5 minutes.” I’ve decided that I just shouldn’t turn down opportunities of any kind. You only live once, right?
The next morning I somehow managed to drag myself to the sports centre where I was introduced to the rowing tank. I really wish this could’ve been videotaped for your viewing pleasure, but you’ll just have to use your imagination. There were three of us plus Tyrone (our coach) that morning. We hauled out the oars and the little seats to fit into the rowing tank - which is a little cement island in a shallow pool of water. You can position the seats so that you’re rowing on the right or left side. We get all set up and Tyrone explained how you “square” and “feather” your oar when it’s in and out of the water, which involves twisting the oar 90 degrees with one hand. Just trying to move one hand and keep the other one still required more coordination than I possess. Apparently you actually have to row while you do this, too. Less slowly than I would have liked, we started putting the stroke together. I struggled. (Little did I know, the other two of them have rowed before! Cheaters!) I tried to smile a lot and apologized profusely for my lack of coordination so Tyrone would not smack me with the oar. After about half an hour, I finally got the hang of it and the three of us were actually able to keep time with our strokes. I promised Tyrone I would get better. He laughed. My Olympic trial is not looking promising.
Wednesday night I had my first shoot with the photography society. We were scheduled to go to the beach for sunset, but there was a problem with transportation, so we ended up hiking up to Rhodes Memorial instead - which was fine for me because I hadn’t been there yet and we had a beautiful view of the city. There was a little man on a horse statue that I enjoyed. (Not a real little man, he was part of the statue... and he actually wasn’t that little, either.) Not the best site for taking pictures, but it was a nice setting for getting to know people. I got to talking to two fourth year bio-chem majors, Michael and Garth, and they offered to drive Hailey and I home so we wouldn’t have to walk to the shuttle. We were grateful because it was getting dark and chilly. Then we realized none of us had eaten so we decided to go into Observatory and grab some dinner. We played a few games of pool and shared some really innovative and delicious pizzas (don’t knock ‘til you try) - banana and bacon, cranberry and brie, and spinach and feta with pine nuts. They invited us to a party on Friday, so we may see them again soon.
I thought I was going to be able to sleep in on Thursday since practice wasn’t until 5:30pm, but then I got a text Wednesday night saying that the Ladies team was doing fitness at 6:30am and the novices were welcome to come. I figured that meant I should go. Again, I rolled out of bed at 5:30 and went down at 6:05 to wait for the first Jammie shuttle, which was scheduled to come at 6:15. I made friends with the security guards, who were actually awake this morning. The minutes rolled on and still no Jammie. I entertained the guards (Monday and Zaeer) with a short comedy routine on the irony of the Jammie “schedule.” At 6:40 the Jammie lazily rolled in and I fretted about being marked as the tardy American. I speed walked around the sports center until I saw a group of girls doing suicides and assumed this to be my sorry fate. I apologized and told them what happened with the Jammie (which they all understood since those things are NEVER on time and nobody expects you to walk in this town while it’s dusky.) I stretched for a few seconds but was eager to jump in and prove that I was willing to WORK. I was ready to go. I prostrated myself on the floor and prepared to show them that I was not here to mess around. Alex, the captain, yelled “GO” and I scrambled up and pushed off as hard as I could, ready to rocket across the gym like my life depended on it. I pushed off SO hard, in fact, that I defied gravity and promptly face-planted into the floor. BOOM! Man down! (I am still hysterically laughing as I write this a day and a half later.) You can imagine their shock to finish the sprint and turn around to find me peeling myself off the floor two feet from the starting line. To their credit, none of them laughed (they probably thought it was rude to laugh at people with disabilities.) It took approximately 30 seconds to inform the UCT Ladies rowing team that Americans are not only tardy, but also clumsy fools. Fortunately, my razor wit saved me, I recovered, and redeemed myself during the rest of practice. It’s such a blessing that I don’t embarrass easily. Honestly, laughing at yourself is a survival skill when you have the balance of a toddler. It was one of those shining moments of your life that you can always look back on and laugh... really hard. As I walked home after practice I began uncontrollably laughing - so the rest of the campus now thinks I am a raving lunatic, as well. Mostly, I was warmed by the prospective laughter of anyone who knows me who will read this and sigh, “Oh, Jessica.”
Yesterday was a long day. After my exciting morning, I showered and got ready for class. At lunch time, I had a meeting with Habitat for Humanity. If ever there was a man that could be called God’s gift to women, it is the leader of Habitat at UCT. I signed up for every event of the semester and volunteered to be their official photographer for their web/media and advertising efforts. I’m building a house tomorrow and playing soccer with teenage township kids on Sunday who will undoubtedly school me.
After my Conflict class I had a meeting with Margie about our work for the semester. We set our agenda for the next couple of weeks and she thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread. Her eyes LIT up when I told her I had access to all of Penn’s scholarly journal databases. It’s the start of a beautiful relationship that pays.
THEN I decided to torture myself and go to another rowing practice. Tyrone is out of town, so another guy was there to coach us. This time, there were brand new people who were real novices. Unfortunately, I had spent all day visualizing and practicing the stroke in my head, and now I had to relearn it. This guy broke the stroke into about 50 parts and it was incredibly confusing. Not only did he spoon feed us, he mashed the food, pureed it, opened our mouths and poured it down. It was like taking 5 steps forward and 50 back. He broke it down SO much that I got all confused about where he actually was in the process of the stroke. I do much better with Tyrone’s throw ‘em to the sharks method. He taught it all in two fell swoops; I felt like I was drowning and had to push myself really hard to keep up. But you know what? At the end of the day I had it down. It was kind of a fruitless practice because half the time we were breaking it down and the rest of the time we were actually rowing, because the girl in front of me was so bad, I couldn’t actually row full out. It was nice to see that I am not actually the worst rower ever. In fact, I felt like a champion. My Olympic hopes are looking up...
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Row, Row, Row Your Ergo Machine
My phone alarm blared at 5:30am this morning. I have only been awake at this time a handful times in my life (mostly during all-night cram/writing sessions,) and I am usually not happy about it. This morning was different, however. I snuggled in for 6 more minutes and then launched out of bed, ready to begin my rowing career. What to wear? I pondered. After a significant deliberation I settled on mesh shorts and a white workout shirt. Just because it is the crack of dawn doesn’t mean you can’t look cute. I stuffed a piece of bread in my mouth and stumbled out of the house with a conscious effort to not wake my still-slumbering flatmates.
At first I was thinking, “At least I’ll get to see the sunrise.” Au contraire. When I walked out of the Res, I was quickly consumed by the thick Arctic mist covering the ground. I went over to ask the security guard if this Shuttle usually comes on time, but... oh, wait... yea, he’s ASLEEP. Your job is to protect the inhabitants of this building and you fell asleep?! Now I am not only cold, but wondering why I haven’t been robbed yet. Le sigh. The shuttle came 7 minutes late, but arrived nonetheless and I waltzed into the sports centre a full 20 minutes early, which gave me some time to stretch. (Ok, fine, I also tested the rock climbing wall when no one was looking.)
When Tyrone arrived we hauled out the ergo machines and set to work learning to row. If you’re unfamiliar with ergo machines, they are, as veteran rower Lauren Owens refers to them, devices of masochism. Naturally, I love it. It took me about 3 minutes to start plotting my rise to rowing glory. I pouted that the girl next to me was too far away for me to read her screen and secretly race her. Thinking back to the Nature-Nurture lecture in my Developmental Psych class, I wonder how much of my unrelenting die-hard competitive nature is genes, and how much I can blame Dad (“What happened with those walks in the 3rd inning?”) This really is a total body workout. I could feel every muscle in my body working and figured I better purchase an economy size tub of ibuprofen to get me through the semester. Good workout.
Part II: Taking Time
When people find that they are consistently miserable with their life, they tend to stop and take stock, to seek out the root cause of unhappiness: job? career path? family? relationships? illness? Lately, I’ve been stopping to take stock of why I’m so happy. It’s not that I’m unhappy at home, by any means, but I’m never this blissful. And the world, and my future, seems a lot clearer, a lot more manageable in this state of euphoria. Not surprisingly, it is the simple, recommended tips for healthy living that seem to be the cause, and it’s nothing I couldn’t do at home.
For one, I am doing things I love that I always say I wish I had more time for. I cook dinner every night and take time to savor it. I love food, but so often I find myself shoveling take out in my mouth while managing 6 other tasks. Why? Also, I bake lots. I. love. baking. I do. I find it therapeutic and fun and I love eating what I bake. Plus, it’s a great way to make friends or show gratitude. At first I missed my electric mixer, but now I enjoy the slow, methodic spoon-beating. It’s even more therapeutic to watch the batter churn, and there’s a certain work-of-my-hands satisfaction. Next, I have regained the lost art of pleasure-reading. I have probably read more non-required books in the past 2 months than I have in the past 3 years. I loved reading as a kid, but somewhere along the line (maybe around 4am one night), reading became a chore, and not something I wanted to do with my free time. Lately, I’ve started remembering why I used to love reading, why I want more, and why I must make it more of a priority. I have made a significant dent in my mental reading list, but there is so, so much more.
I think it’s also worth admitting that I’ve been taking better care of myself. Because I’ve been cooking and not grabbing the fastest thing that’s edible, I’m eating more well-balanced meals (and probably saving money, too!) I’ve been drinking lots of water, and getting 8 hours of sleep each night. So, maybe these health recommendations ARE all they’re cracked up to be. I look and feel healthier, and it’s not such a struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I’m actually able to stay awake during class (not because they’re so fascinating,) and walk around with a skip in my step and smile in my eyes.
Lastly, (and I know this will make Grandma Gartner happy,) I have been embracing my youth and partying it up. I have spent way too many weekends of my college life catching up on sleep or work, or running between meetings and rehearsals. What kind of 21 year old is too tired to party on Saturday night? This is the time in my life when I can and should prioritize partying. There is something to be said for dancing the night away with 5-minute friends. I should still be dating for fun, not husband hunting - and even date a few people that I have absolutely no intention of spending the rest of my life with. (Better stories to tell the kids.) Somewhere along the line, I accepted that my life will work out when I’m good and ready, which has freed me up to live with reckless abandon, for the time being. When I get back I’m going into my final year of college, and I’ll be damned if I spend it catching up on sleep.
At first I was thinking, “At least I’ll get to see the sunrise.” Au contraire. When I walked out of the Res, I was quickly consumed by the thick Arctic mist covering the ground. I went over to ask the security guard if this Shuttle usually comes on time, but... oh, wait... yea, he’s ASLEEP. Your job is to protect the inhabitants of this building and you fell asleep?! Now I am not only cold, but wondering why I haven’t been robbed yet. Le sigh. The shuttle came 7 minutes late, but arrived nonetheless and I waltzed into the sports centre a full 20 minutes early, which gave me some time to stretch. (Ok, fine, I also tested the rock climbing wall when no one was looking.)
When Tyrone arrived we hauled out the ergo machines and set to work learning to row. If you’re unfamiliar with ergo machines, they are, as veteran rower Lauren Owens refers to them, devices of masochism. Naturally, I love it. It took me about 3 minutes to start plotting my rise to rowing glory. I pouted that the girl next to me was too far away for me to read her screen and secretly race her. Thinking back to the Nature-Nurture lecture in my Developmental Psych class, I wonder how much of my unrelenting die-hard competitive nature is genes, and how much I can blame Dad (“What happened with those walks in the 3rd inning?”) This really is a total body workout. I could feel every muscle in my body working and figured I better purchase an economy size tub of ibuprofen to get me through the semester. Good workout.
Part II: Taking Time
When people find that they are consistently miserable with their life, they tend to stop and take stock, to seek out the root cause of unhappiness: job? career path? family? relationships? illness? Lately, I’ve been stopping to take stock of why I’m so happy. It’s not that I’m unhappy at home, by any means, but I’m never this blissful. And the world, and my future, seems a lot clearer, a lot more manageable in this state of euphoria. Not surprisingly, it is the simple, recommended tips for healthy living that seem to be the cause, and it’s nothing I couldn’t do at home.
For one, I am doing things I love that I always say I wish I had more time for. I cook dinner every night and take time to savor it. I love food, but so often I find myself shoveling take out in my mouth while managing 6 other tasks. Why? Also, I bake lots. I. love. baking. I do. I find it therapeutic and fun and I love eating what I bake. Plus, it’s a great way to make friends or show gratitude. At first I missed my electric mixer, but now I enjoy the slow, methodic spoon-beating. It’s even more therapeutic to watch the batter churn, and there’s a certain work-of-my-hands satisfaction. Next, I have regained the lost art of pleasure-reading. I have probably read more non-required books in the past 2 months than I have in the past 3 years. I loved reading as a kid, but somewhere along the line (maybe around 4am one night), reading became a chore, and not something I wanted to do with my free time. Lately, I’ve started remembering why I used to love reading, why I want more, and why I must make it more of a priority. I have made a significant dent in my mental reading list, but there is so, so much more.
I think it’s also worth admitting that I’ve been taking better care of myself. Because I’ve been cooking and not grabbing the fastest thing that’s edible, I’m eating more well-balanced meals (and probably saving money, too!) I’ve been drinking lots of water, and getting 8 hours of sleep each night. So, maybe these health recommendations ARE all they’re cracked up to be. I look and feel healthier, and it’s not such a struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I’m actually able to stay awake during class (not because they’re so fascinating,) and walk around with a skip in my step and smile in my eyes.
Lastly, (and I know this will make Grandma Gartner happy,) I have been embracing my youth and partying it up. I have spent way too many weekends of my college life catching up on sleep or work, or running between meetings and rehearsals. What kind of 21 year old is too tired to party on Saturday night? This is the time in my life when I can and should prioritize partying. There is something to be said for dancing the night away with 5-minute friends. I should still be dating for fun, not husband hunting - and even date a few people that I have absolutely no intention of spending the rest of my life with. (Better stories to tell the kids.) Somewhere along the line, I accepted that my life will work out when I’m good and ready, which has freed me up to live with reckless abandon, for the time being. When I get back I’m going into my final year of college, and I’ll be damned if I spend it catching up on sleep.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Stellenbosch
This weekend CIEE arranged a trip to Stellenbosch for us. Stellenbosch is in the heart of wine-country in South Africa, so we got to see the vineyards and do a wine-tasting! It is a really beautiful town and we had an absolutely gorgeous day. It’s interesting because Stellenbosch is mostly a native Afrikaaner town (read: wealthy whites, no black people). The crazy thing about this is that you have to drive past these absolutely desolate township areas with tin shacks that stretch for miles (actually in or near where I hope to be working at Baph.) About 2 miles later, you’re in the Sonoma Valley of Africa. The socio-economic and racial contrast is very startling and disturbing. It seems apartheid is still alive and well in some areas...
Anyway!
When we arrived, we had some time to tour the grounds, check out the crafts markets with handcrafted goods (nice, but overpriced.) There was a very nice deli where you could pick up supplies for a picnic and then eat around the grounds. 5 other girls and I pooled the money they had given us for lunch and picked out fresh rolls, chicken deli cuts, local cheddar, fruit salad, chips and hummus and went outside and made delicious sandwiches and had quite a little feast. We ate amongst the baby ducks and beautiful little Afrikaans babies (soooooo cute!) It was heaven.
There was also a cheetah rehabilitation reserve on the grounds, so we got to see CHEETAHS! Such elegant animals.
After touring this area a bit more, we took a short ride to the winery. Here we were treated to a private wine tasting. Now, in some wine tastings, you do a little swirl and spit, but apparently it’s a small sin to spit out wine in South Africa. You drink your wine. And they don’t just give you a little sip either; it’s about half a glass!
For the wine connoisseurs, here’s a detailed description of what we tried, the rest of you can skip to the next paragraph: We started with the white wines and had a very dry, young Sauvignon-Blanc. I don’t usually like whites as much, but this was a really light, refreshing wine. Next, we had a wine that originated in Germany: Gewurtztraminer. Don’t ask me to pronounce it for you, I just drank it. This was a little bit spicier fruity, floral white wine with litchi and rose aromas. Very tasty. Next we rinsed our glasses and moved to the reds. First we had a Shiraz. Normally I like the Shiraz, but this had a very deep flavor and I wasn’t much a fan. Very heavy. Dad, you might like this. Then we moved on to a Pinotage which is sold exclusively in South Africa right now where it was created. This had a pretty robust black cherry flavour, but I liked it a lot. Finally, we were treated to a fancy Lord Neethling Cabernet Sauvignon, which was a beautiful, full-bodied wine that just went down so smoothly. Really delicious.
I bought a bottle of Chardonnay and a bottle of Cab-Sauvignon (a cheaper one) afterwards. I will probably visit Stellenbosch again, so if any of you would like some wine, let me know and I can have it shipped to you. By US standards, it’s pretty cheap.
Finally we got a tour of the cellar, where we had to be very quiet so as to not disturb the sleeping wines with the vibration of our voices. OH PLEASE. We took pictures... I hope the wine wasn’t startled by the flash or anything. All in all, a truly lovely day.
In other news, I finished my first full week of class. Lectures here are.... basic, so far. Very basic. We’ve spent a lot of time defining things (like “war” and “poverty”) which drives me nuts because anyone can find a dictionary. I’m hoping that this week is kind of a primer for more analytical lectures/readings in weeks to come, but I’m prepared for the fact that that is probably wishful thinking.
I will just say this: It is pretty miserable to be an American in an international politics class right now. There are many times during lecture that I want to crawl under the desk and disappear. I try to keep my mouth shut, or talk with a slightly ambiguous accent. Despite Bush’s ever plummeting approval rates in the States, abroad we are all recognized as one in the same with the American government, and we are all responsible.
Anyway!
When we arrived, we had some time to tour the grounds, check out the crafts markets with handcrafted goods (nice, but overpriced.) There was a very nice deli where you could pick up supplies for a picnic and then eat around the grounds. 5 other girls and I pooled the money they had given us for lunch and picked out fresh rolls, chicken deli cuts, local cheddar, fruit salad, chips and hummus and went outside and made delicious sandwiches and had quite a little feast. We ate amongst the baby ducks and beautiful little Afrikaans babies (soooooo cute!) It was heaven.
There was also a cheetah rehabilitation reserve on the grounds, so we got to see CHEETAHS! Such elegant animals.
After touring this area a bit more, we took a short ride to the winery. Here we were treated to a private wine tasting. Now, in some wine tastings, you do a little swirl and spit, but apparently it’s a small sin to spit out wine in South Africa. You drink your wine. And they don’t just give you a little sip either; it’s about half a glass!
For the wine connoisseurs, here’s a detailed description of what we tried, the rest of you can skip to the next paragraph: We started with the white wines and had a very dry, young Sauvignon-Blanc. I don’t usually like whites as much, but this was a really light, refreshing wine. Next, we had a wine that originated in Germany: Gewurtztraminer. Don’t ask me to pronounce it for you, I just drank it. This was a little bit spicier fruity, floral white wine with litchi and rose aromas. Very tasty. Next we rinsed our glasses and moved to the reds. First we had a Shiraz. Normally I like the Shiraz, but this had a very deep flavor and I wasn’t much a fan. Very heavy. Dad, you might like this. Then we moved on to a Pinotage which is sold exclusively in South Africa right now where it was created. This had a pretty robust black cherry flavour, but I liked it a lot. Finally, we were treated to a fancy Lord Neethling Cabernet Sauvignon, which was a beautiful, full-bodied wine that just went down so smoothly. Really delicious.
I bought a bottle of Chardonnay and a bottle of Cab-Sauvignon (a cheaper one) afterwards. I will probably visit Stellenbosch again, so if any of you would like some wine, let me know and I can have it shipped to you. By US standards, it’s pretty cheap.
Finally we got a tour of the cellar, where we had to be very quiet so as to not disturb the sleeping wines with the vibration of our voices. OH PLEASE. We took pictures... I hope the wine wasn’t startled by the flash or anything. All in all, a truly lovely day.
In other news, I finished my first full week of class. Lectures here are.... basic, so far. Very basic. We’ve spent a lot of time defining things (like “war” and “poverty”) which drives me nuts because anyone can find a dictionary. I’m hoping that this week is kind of a primer for more analytical lectures/readings in weeks to come, but I’m prepared for the fact that that is probably wishful thinking.
I will just say this: It is pretty miserable to be an American in an international politics class right now. There are many times during lecture that I want to crawl under the desk and disappear. I try to keep my mouth shut, or talk with a slightly ambiguous accent. Despite Bush’s ever plummeting approval rates in the States, abroad we are all recognized as one in the same with the American government, and we are all responsible.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
My First Day of School
On Thursday night I baked a fresh batch of citrus burst muffins so everyone would have a little treat for the first day of school! Unfortunately, the tray slipped coming out of the 400 degree oven and I have a pretty nasty burn on my arm... but the muffins were delicious! My flatmates devoured them.
Friday I got up nice and early to get ready for my first day of class! I finally gave in and bought a hair dryer on Thursday, and let me tell you, I felt like a new person when I dried my hair for the first time in weeks. Actually, I confused my flatmates a bit because I don’t think they’ve ever seen bangs before and they were like, “What is this? Fringe?” I got down to the Jammie Shuttle with plenty of time for Murphy’s Law to kick in.
Sadly, and somewhat appropriately, it was kind of rainy, which was a bit of a bummer, but it wasn’t too bad. My first class was Developmental Psychology, which seems really awesome. I was shocked at how much chatter there was while the professor was talking, though! The professor said there’s going to be a lot of reading and everyone groaned. There is one paperback textbook. I sat next to this guy Ryan who is also studying abroad and I offered him a muffin. Of course, he’s gay. Like moths to a flame...
Next I had the course with the longest name ever: Introduction to the Political Economy and Foundations of Social Service Professions in South Africa. Woo! This was a much smaller class, maybe 30-40 people. The professor seems very nice and friendly and had everyone go around and introduce themselves. The population of the class is pretty overwhelmingly from Cape Town, but there are still a fair amount of international students and about 5 or 6 of us from the US. She did not hand out a syllabus or any course information, she just wanted to chat. There are actually two professors teaching this course. The second one came in late and spoke a bit about her personal research on the role of NGOs with out-of-school youth. I approached her after class and asked if she was interested in having a research assistant for the semester. She seemed intrigued and asked me to email her with more information about myself, so we’ll see how that works out.
The number of beautiful people on campus is pretty astonishing. Every you look there are people that look like they jumped off the page of catalog. It’s a little intimidating.
For my third and final class of the day, Conflict in World Politics, the professor did not show up. Ok then! Apparently, I actually had pretty good odds for the day. Some people sat around on campus for 6 hours and only one professor showed up. Now, if you’re not going to show up, whatever, but couldn’t you maybe send an email so as to not waste our time?
Today I lounged around the pool and tomorrow I’m planning on going to the Kirstenbosch Gardens for the day.
Friday I got up nice and early to get ready for my first day of class! I finally gave in and bought a hair dryer on Thursday, and let me tell you, I felt like a new person when I dried my hair for the first time in weeks. Actually, I confused my flatmates a bit because I don’t think they’ve ever seen bangs before and they were like, “What is this? Fringe?” I got down to the Jammie Shuttle with plenty of time for Murphy’s Law to kick in.
Sadly, and somewhat appropriately, it was kind of rainy, which was a bit of a bummer, but it wasn’t too bad. My first class was Developmental Psychology, which seems really awesome. I was shocked at how much chatter there was while the professor was talking, though! The professor said there’s going to be a lot of reading and everyone groaned. There is one paperback textbook. I sat next to this guy Ryan who is also studying abroad and I offered him a muffin. Of course, he’s gay. Like moths to a flame...
Next I had the course with the longest name ever: Introduction to the Political Economy and Foundations of Social Service Professions in South Africa. Woo! This was a much smaller class, maybe 30-40 people. The professor seems very nice and friendly and had everyone go around and introduce themselves. The population of the class is pretty overwhelmingly from Cape Town, but there are still a fair amount of international students and about 5 or 6 of us from the US. She did not hand out a syllabus or any course information, she just wanted to chat. There are actually two professors teaching this course. The second one came in late and spoke a bit about her personal research on the role of NGOs with out-of-school youth. I approached her after class and asked if she was interested in having a research assistant for the semester. She seemed intrigued and asked me to email her with more information about myself, so we’ll see how that works out.
The number of beautiful people on campus is pretty astonishing. Every you look there are people that look like they jumped off the page of catalog. It’s a little intimidating.
For my third and final class of the day, Conflict in World Politics, the professor did not show up. Ok then! Apparently, I actually had pretty good odds for the day. Some people sat around on campus for 6 hours and only one professor showed up. Now, if you’re not going to show up, whatever, but couldn’t you maybe send an email so as to not waste our time?
Today I lounged around the pool and tomorrow I’m planning on going to the Kirstenbosch Gardens for the day.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Jump
I’ve had the time of my life during the past few days. Be forewarned, this is a long entry because I want to document all of these blissful memories while they’re still fresh in my mind.
Saturday morning I attempted to try out our little ghetto oven and prove to MK that I actually can cook/bake. I decided it was a good time to experiment because I could take some goodies along for our trip. I started with M&M cookies. They don’t sell chocolate chips here (except in very tiny, expensive containers) so I thought M&Ms would be a good chocolaty substitute. Now let me tell you: without internet to look up a recipe, it took me about 6 trips to the grocery store before I had everything I needed to bake. Coupled with this was the fact that everything is in metrics here. Our oven is in Celsius degrees and my measuring cup is in liters. I don’t have anywhere to look things up, so I’m eyeballing everything and just mixing on a hope and a prayer. Furthermore, I had no electric mixer or microwave, so I was just working with good old fashioned elbow-grease. MK was excited but I tried to convince him that these could be a disaster. He just kept saying, “I have faith in you Jessica.” Love him! I put the first batch in and checked on the cookies about every 30 seconds. The recipe suggested 8 minutes, mine took about 33 minutes. I estimated that the power of the oven was about the equivalent of my EZ Bake oven. Nonetheless, they were miraculously delicious and everyone was happy! Next, I borrowed a muffin tray and made lemon poppyseed muffins. Again, they took about 4x as long to bake, but they came out perfectly! YAY!!!
Saturday evening we left from Cape Town on the Greyhound (with treats and backpacks in tow!) Now, you would think Greyhound would be pretty reputable, right? International company, good service in the US? Well, we thought so, until we spotted the hordes of baby cock-roaches swarming the aisles at our first stop about 3 hours into the trip. My only saving grace was that the seat next to me was empty so I safeguarded my belongings and food up there. I made one vain attempt to kill one that was closing in on me and then watched in horror as 6 others pulled apart its remains and carried them away. Lovely! I slept with one eye open and never let my feet touch the ground. In addition, they were blasting bad family movies in the middle of the night.
About 4 hours into the trip, this sightly smelly little man with dreds and a rasta hat sits down across the aisle from me. From the minute he sat down, he stared at me. It was pitch black, but I could see his bright eyes fixated on me from the glare of the TV screens. It was C-R-E-E-P-Y. I was trying to tell if he wanted my muffins, my muffins, or my money. I didn’t like any of the options. Finally, about an hour later, he leaned over and asked to have the book I was reading (Three Cups of Tea). I gave it to him, praying it would distract him. Then, he literally stared at the cover for a solid ten minutes before reading the critic reviews, publishing info, etc. for another hour or so. Better the book than me, I figured. Eventually he handed it back to me, thanking me profusely. I went back to reading, but apparently he interpreted my fixation on the page as eagerness to strike up conversation. Mind you, it’s about 1am by this time. He proceeded to play 20 questions with me for about a half an hour. Apparently he wasn’t getting the “I’m not in the mood for conversation” message, so I just closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
At 4:30am we arrived at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and were greeted by a beautiful man sporting a hot pink sarong. We knew we were in for a great time. Fortunately, whatever the bus lacked, the Tube and Axe Backpacker Lodge made up for tenfold. There were several dormitory style rooms with bunk beds and a few single suites, in addition to outdoor tents. We stayed in dorms, which worked out perfectly because there were five girls in our group and they put us in a 5 bunk room. There was a large living room, a kitchen, a bar, a porch, a braai (BBQ) area and a huge backyard. Basically, it looked like heaven. We crashed immediately, but I was back up at 7:30 without an alarm, eager to start the day. Ironically, I had my first hot shower in weeks at a backpack hostel! It was glorious. After a quick breakfast and some intense peer pressuring on my part, seven of us jumped in the van and headed for Bloukran’s Bridge.
Bloukran’s Bridge is 216m (about 650 feet) high, and currently the highest bungee jump in the world. Could I BE more excited? I was giddy all morning and tried to allay everyone’s unreasonable fears of untimely death on jagged rocks. It’s perfectly safe. We laughed at the irony of our parents’ admonishment: If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do that too? We decided that should be their new slogan, but their current mantra is pretty sweet:
FEAR IS TEMPORARY, REGRET IS PERMANENT.
Amen.
After some general guidelines, we walked to the center of the bridge in this rickety steel cage under the bridge. It was mesh grating and you could see straight down and I couldn’t wait to dive into the murky depths of the valley. I’m a sick person sometimes. By the time it was my turn to jump I was as giddy as a school-girl. I couldn’t stop smiling. They practically had to hold me back until everything was rigged. Finally they walked me to the edge and counted down 5-4-3-2-1! I made a deep plie and jumped off as hard as I could, arms straight out.
Let me tell you: You might think this would be terrifying, but it is the single most peaceful, liberating, beautiful experience you could ever have in your life. I thoroughly enjoyed every precious second of my free-fall. Then, while I was just swinging around, I put my hands behind my head, looked back up at the mountains and the sky and reflected on the irony of how perfectly at home I felt swinging from a bridge among the mountains of Africa. Glorious. Eventually, the guy slid down, attached himself to me, and pulled me back up. Next time, I might go backwards ;)
When we were finally all done, we were starving. We were able to buy a CD with pictures of our jump, which I did, then we stopped at a place for lunch on the way back. After lunch, Sarah and I decided to take a little walk around. A ways down the road, we spotted an area that looked like one of the townships and wandered over. Sarah was a little apprehensive about going too far in, but my intuition told me that these were good people and we were not in any danger. I smiled at people, checked for reactions, and received all warm smiles and hellos in return. Pretty soon, we happened upon some small children, which you all know I can’t resist. I made friends with a few of them, and when we started to walk again, they followed us. Pretty soon, I had gathered a following of about 15 children behind me. I felt like they were expecting me to do something, so I taught them how to play Simon Says. It was adorable and probably looked hysterical. Soon we all started singing, too. I felt just like Maria in the Sound of Music, but with little black von Trapps. We walked all around town, gathering children as we went. I took some pictures, which they LOVED and we helped referee races. For all of you who doubted my visions of running through Africa followed by a village of children: HA! This was definitely one of the highlights of the week.
I’m not sure what it was about this remote little lodge, but all of the men who worked there were ruggedly handsome. AND there was a bar 20 feet from my bedroom. It was like our little Shangri-La. That night, the guys set up a delicious braai for us with salad, chicken and lamb-chops. Let me just say: Africa is a land of carnivores. Vegetarians be warned - in this country, they say, “If we want vegetables, we’ll have chicken.” I think we started drinking around 4pm and didn’t stop. There was a pool table which was excellent fun. The power went out around 10pm and that didn’t stop anyone, either.
I woke up the next morning around 7. It’s amazing... I am not a morning person, but lately I’ve been waking up so early - even if I’ve gone to bed late. It’s as if everything is so fantastic that I just don’t want to miss a single minute and I can’t wait to start the day. I wake up refreshed, excited and so eager to see what the day has in store. Unfortunately, on this particular morning, I woke to discover that we STILL had no power. This was pretty unusual for an outage to last so long. In addition, since we were in such a remote area, their water supply was on an electrical pump, so we didn’t have water either: no showers, nothing to drink, and no flushing toilets. After milling around for a bit, Ben and I organized a game of volleyball (because what else do you do in African heat with no water supply?) It was a pretty pathetic game, so I suggested we switch to soccer. I recruited the hot barmen to play with us :) I hadn’t played in a while, but I retained some of my skills and scored the first goal!
After about a half hour of INTENSE soccer we were all dying and severely dehydrated. So we took a break and then started a game of American football. I’d never actually played before but I surprised everyone with a few miraculous catches in the end-zone. Boo ya!
Eventually the power came back on and we were able to pee, drink, and bathe. Exciting! I suggested we cook a big meal ourselves that night and asked about the location of the grocery store. I probably should have been clued in when Monty chuckled at my query, but he said it was five minutes down the road. A few people went on a short hike and I walked down to the store to pick up ingredients for dinner. I had pretty grand notions of delicious gourmet dishes and was mentally concocting recipes in my head on my way there. I walked a half mile past the store because I didn’t see it. Well. That may have been due to the fact that it was actually called a deli and there was exactly one scarcely stocked shelf of food. I surveyed my options. It was pretty dismal. I finally settled on a few bags of rice, potatoes, 3 tomatoes, onions, a can of mixed veggies, a SAD set of chicken pieces and a packet of curry powder. I basically cleaned out the store.
Back in the kitchen a few people helped me chop up the “veggies” and boil the rice. We managed to produce a high starch meal of curried rice with veggies and curried potato wedges. Monty decided to join us and offered a fresh package of mince meat from the butcher. Somehow, we managed to turn out a pretty delicious meal! 2 points!
That night Monty joined us for a rousing game of Kings. (Penn people: I have some cool new additions to the game!) The guys introduced us to something called Stroh Rum. Goodness gracious. It’s pretty delicious, but it’s 80% alcohol and it took me about half an hour to recover from the shock of it. Good times. Also, they do these Mexican tequila shots that are tequila with tabasco sauce. I tried to convince them that I had an aversion to T-sauce ever since my babysitter fed me a spoonful of it when I was 6, but they made me do it anyway.
By far, my favorite part of backpack traveling is getting to meet such fantastic people - especially in such a remote area. We all really bonded and became like a little family - and I don’t mean just the people I came with. We got really close with the guys working there and many of the other people lodging there. We met this one adorable couple, Barry and Judith. Barry and Judith are about 70 years old and they are backpacking Africa. God bless them. I really hope I am as cool as these people when I’m their age. They sold their house and bought an apartment on a riverboat on the English Channel to give themselves more freedom to travel like this. They are pretty much the sweetest people ever and offered some fascinating insights on life, marriage, and the world in general. Then we met Maggi, who is from NY and just graduated from St. John’s. She decided not to go to med school and took a year off to travel before going to grad school. She’s a really cool chick and was fun to hang out with. We actually had a lot in common in terms of how we feel about traveling. I hope we can stay in touch and travel together someday. A conversation I had with her about feeling so comfortable at the lodge sparked me to think about the definition of “home.”
What is home, exactly? After 72 hours, I felt completely at home at this little lodge and felt like everyone there was my family. I decided I can feel at home pretty much anywhere, and I don’t know how or why. I have so many places that I have called home the past few years and I’ve felt equally at ease in all of them. How can I feel just as at home in the middle of jungle in Africa surrounded by people who were complete strangers three days ago as I do with my family in New Jersey or my apartment in Philly or with flat-mates in the Res. It’s interesting. I’m starting to think about what home means to me. Why can I adjust so quickly while other people have such a difficult time adapting? What makes a place home? And then in the middle of my philosophical pondering someone handed me a cold beer and a cue stick and all was right in the world.
After a fairly lazy day on Monday, we decided to go to Tsitsikama National Park and hike to this waterfall the guys told us about. The park is on the coast of the Indian Ocean and the campground was beautiful. We approached a sign that indicated the Waterfall Trail and it was marked “Difficult: Not suitable for unexperienced hikers.” We had each done a fair amount of hiking and kind of shrugged and forged through. For awhile, we walked into the woods on a well-traveled path which was occasionally interspersed with man made stairs or bits of concrete in rough spots and we chortled at the warning. Then, after about 45 minutes of mild hiking, we emerged from the bush (as they say) near the shore and gazed at the stretch of jagged coastal rocks in front of us. What happened to the path? Did they actually expect us to scale these natural structures? To the right was a completely vertical mountain and to the left was the Indian Ocean. Jagged rocks it is! These rocks were pretty difficult to climb and took a fair amount of strategy to scale. After about 30 minutes of this, we were pretty drained, but exalted to see flat land. Every once in a while we saw a small yellow paw print to indicate we were still on track. Thanks. Along the way we saw some really beautiful flora and happened upon some interesting little sea creatures and insects. Finally, after about 2 hours and several more stretches of rocks, we heard the water. Then we saw it. A glorious, cascading waterfall, a natural wonder right before my eyes and all I could think was, “How perfect is my life right now?” We swam in the falls for a bit and cooled/cleaned off before attempting the path back.
About halfway back we decided to take a different path that went up the mountain instead of around the coast. We thought it would be easier than scaling the rocks again. We were wrong. It was practically a vertical climb for 2 hours. It didn’t help that we had all run out of water by this point. We kept thinking we were going to hit the campground any minute. We were never right. It just. kept. going. Eventually we fell upon a clearing in the woods with a little pond FULL of water-lillies. It was absolutely stunning and completely unexpected and gave all of us a little second wind and brought smiles to our faces. FINALLY we came upon a rest camp at the top and were able to stop and get water. We still had to walk a long way back to the camp where we were getting picked up, but at least it was flat ground and we were rehydrated. When we finally got back, we learned that we had hiked 14 km (about 10 miles). Not too shabby.
We found a little convenience store that was much better stocked than anything by the lodge, so we stocked up for lunch and dinner. I swear, you have never seen people so excited about eggs, cheese, pasta, and one wilting green pepper. When we got back to the house we made omelettes and they were about the best thing I had ever tasted. Fortunately, even though we had already checked out, they let us hang around to cook lunch and dinner and a few of us snuck in a much-needed shower.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but saying goodbye to our new friends was really hard and kind of emotional. I realized that these guys have pretty difficult lives because they meet great people all the time, make deep connections, and then have to say goodbye a few days later - usually never to be seen again. Barry told me that I was one of the people he would remember, and I knew he was being sincere, so that meant a lot to me. He said I was the first person he ever met from New Jersey and he always wanted to meet someone from there, so I would always be his “Jess from Jersey.” Luckily, Monty is actually moving to Cape Town in a few weeks to work at a backpacker lodge down there, so we promised to visit and keep in touch. The bus ride back was much cleaner (no buggies) and much quieter. We all couldn’t stop talking about what a terrific time we’d had.
Once we got back this morning, we found out that there was an activities fair on campus, so I cleaned up a bit, sent Mom and Dad an email to let them know I was still alive and headed up there. I signed up for Habitat for Humanity first. I really wanted to get involved with that in the States and I thought it’d be a really great experience here. They do builds on the weekends and you can go as often or not as you like. Next I found the photography society. This is pretty cool because they bring in some professionals for tutorials, help you figure out the dark room if you need it and schedule occasional shoots to go on together. The girl said, “It’s pretty laid back. It’s basically a bunch of people who like photography and want to hang out with other people who like it and learn from each other and take great pictures.” That’s basically the definition of what I was looking for.
When I turned around, a nice-looking shirtless man was beckoning me from his table. I walked over and he asked if I was interested in rowing. I laughed and said I’d never done any rowing. He said that was okay - they would teach me and it’s a great way to meet people and see places around the country. He gave me a brochure and I told him I’d think about it with every intention of disappearing in the crowd. I got a bottle of water and 20 minutes later I was signing my name. Sometimes, you just need a challenge. The physical activities of this weekend reminded me how much I missed sports. I missed having a team and practicing and feeling that familiar pain in my muscles. So why not? I may hate it, I may be awful, I may be the worst row South Africa has ever seen.... but so what? I figure, at the very least, I will probably get in really good shape from the conditioning. It’s a club sport, so it’s not super intense, and it seems to be a “what you make of it” kind of deal. At best, I develop a perfect physique, make friends for life, become a champion rower and get recruited for the Olympics. Hey, it could happen
Saturday morning I attempted to try out our little ghetto oven and prove to MK that I actually can cook/bake. I decided it was a good time to experiment because I could take some goodies along for our trip. I started with M&M cookies. They don’t sell chocolate chips here (except in very tiny, expensive containers) so I thought M&Ms would be a good chocolaty substitute. Now let me tell you: without internet to look up a recipe, it took me about 6 trips to the grocery store before I had everything I needed to bake. Coupled with this was the fact that everything is in metrics here. Our oven is in Celsius degrees and my measuring cup is in liters. I don’t have anywhere to look things up, so I’m eyeballing everything and just mixing on a hope and a prayer. Furthermore, I had no electric mixer or microwave, so I was just working with good old fashioned elbow-grease. MK was excited but I tried to convince him that these could be a disaster. He just kept saying, “I have faith in you Jessica.” Love him! I put the first batch in and checked on the cookies about every 30 seconds. The recipe suggested 8 minutes, mine took about 33 minutes. I estimated that the power of the oven was about the equivalent of my EZ Bake oven. Nonetheless, they were miraculously delicious and everyone was happy! Next, I borrowed a muffin tray and made lemon poppyseed muffins. Again, they took about 4x as long to bake, but they came out perfectly! YAY!!!
Saturday evening we left from Cape Town on the Greyhound (with treats and backpacks in tow!) Now, you would think Greyhound would be pretty reputable, right? International company, good service in the US? Well, we thought so, until we spotted the hordes of baby cock-roaches swarming the aisles at our first stop about 3 hours into the trip. My only saving grace was that the seat next to me was empty so I safeguarded my belongings and food up there. I made one vain attempt to kill one that was closing in on me and then watched in horror as 6 others pulled apart its remains and carried them away. Lovely! I slept with one eye open and never let my feet touch the ground. In addition, they were blasting bad family movies in the middle of the night.
About 4 hours into the trip, this sightly smelly little man with dreds and a rasta hat sits down across the aisle from me. From the minute he sat down, he stared at me. It was pitch black, but I could see his bright eyes fixated on me from the glare of the TV screens. It was C-R-E-E-P-Y. I was trying to tell if he wanted my muffins, my muffins, or my money. I didn’t like any of the options. Finally, about an hour later, he leaned over and asked to have the book I was reading (Three Cups of Tea). I gave it to him, praying it would distract him. Then, he literally stared at the cover for a solid ten minutes before reading the critic reviews, publishing info, etc. for another hour or so. Better the book than me, I figured. Eventually he handed it back to me, thanking me profusely. I went back to reading, but apparently he interpreted my fixation on the page as eagerness to strike up conversation. Mind you, it’s about 1am by this time. He proceeded to play 20 questions with me for about a half an hour. Apparently he wasn’t getting the “I’m not in the mood for conversation” message, so I just closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
At 4:30am we arrived at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and were greeted by a beautiful man sporting a hot pink sarong. We knew we were in for a great time. Fortunately, whatever the bus lacked, the Tube and Axe Backpacker Lodge made up for tenfold. There were several dormitory style rooms with bunk beds and a few single suites, in addition to outdoor tents. We stayed in dorms, which worked out perfectly because there were five girls in our group and they put us in a 5 bunk room. There was a large living room, a kitchen, a bar, a porch, a braai (BBQ) area and a huge backyard. Basically, it looked like heaven. We crashed immediately, but I was back up at 7:30 without an alarm, eager to start the day. Ironically, I had my first hot shower in weeks at a backpack hostel! It was glorious. After a quick breakfast and some intense peer pressuring on my part, seven of us jumped in the van and headed for Bloukran’s Bridge.
Bloukran’s Bridge is 216m (about 650 feet) high, and currently the highest bungee jump in the world. Could I BE more excited? I was giddy all morning and tried to allay everyone’s unreasonable fears of untimely death on jagged rocks. It’s perfectly safe. We laughed at the irony of our parents’ admonishment: If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do that too? We decided that should be their new slogan, but their current mantra is pretty sweet:
FEAR IS TEMPORARY, REGRET IS PERMANENT.
Amen.
After some general guidelines, we walked to the center of the bridge in this rickety steel cage under the bridge. It was mesh grating and you could see straight down and I couldn’t wait to dive into the murky depths of the valley. I’m a sick person sometimes. By the time it was my turn to jump I was as giddy as a school-girl. I couldn’t stop smiling. They practically had to hold me back until everything was rigged. Finally they walked me to the edge and counted down 5-4-3-2-1! I made a deep plie and jumped off as hard as I could, arms straight out.
Let me tell you: You might think this would be terrifying, but it is the single most peaceful, liberating, beautiful experience you could ever have in your life. I thoroughly enjoyed every precious second of my free-fall. Then, while I was just swinging around, I put my hands behind my head, looked back up at the mountains and the sky and reflected on the irony of how perfectly at home I felt swinging from a bridge among the mountains of Africa. Glorious. Eventually, the guy slid down, attached himself to me, and pulled me back up. Next time, I might go backwards ;)
When we were finally all done, we were starving. We were able to buy a CD with pictures of our jump, which I did, then we stopped at a place for lunch on the way back. After lunch, Sarah and I decided to take a little walk around. A ways down the road, we spotted an area that looked like one of the townships and wandered over. Sarah was a little apprehensive about going too far in, but my intuition told me that these were good people and we were not in any danger. I smiled at people, checked for reactions, and received all warm smiles and hellos in return. Pretty soon, we happened upon some small children, which you all know I can’t resist. I made friends with a few of them, and when we started to walk again, they followed us. Pretty soon, I had gathered a following of about 15 children behind me. I felt like they were expecting me to do something, so I taught them how to play Simon Says. It was adorable and probably looked hysterical. Soon we all started singing, too. I felt just like Maria in the Sound of Music, but with little black von Trapps. We walked all around town, gathering children as we went. I took some pictures, which they LOVED and we helped referee races. For all of you who doubted my visions of running through Africa followed by a village of children: HA! This was definitely one of the highlights of the week.
I’m not sure what it was about this remote little lodge, but all of the men who worked there were ruggedly handsome. AND there was a bar 20 feet from my bedroom. It was like our little Shangri-La. That night, the guys set up a delicious braai for us with salad, chicken and lamb-chops. Let me just say: Africa is a land of carnivores. Vegetarians be warned - in this country, they say, “If we want vegetables, we’ll have chicken.” I think we started drinking around 4pm and didn’t stop. There was a pool table which was excellent fun. The power went out around 10pm and that didn’t stop anyone, either.
I woke up the next morning around 7. It’s amazing... I am not a morning person, but lately I’ve been waking up so early - even if I’ve gone to bed late. It’s as if everything is so fantastic that I just don’t want to miss a single minute and I can’t wait to start the day. I wake up refreshed, excited and so eager to see what the day has in store. Unfortunately, on this particular morning, I woke to discover that we STILL had no power. This was pretty unusual for an outage to last so long. In addition, since we were in such a remote area, their water supply was on an electrical pump, so we didn’t have water either: no showers, nothing to drink, and no flushing toilets. After milling around for a bit, Ben and I organized a game of volleyball (because what else do you do in African heat with no water supply?) It was a pretty pathetic game, so I suggested we switch to soccer. I recruited the hot barmen to play with us :) I hadn’t played in a while, but I retained some of my skills and scored the first goal!
After about a half hour of INTENSE soccer we were all dying and severely dehydrated. So we took a break and then started a game of American football. I’d never actually played before but I surprised everyone with a few miraculous catches in the end-zone. Boo ya!
Eventually the power came back on and we were able to pee, drink, and bathe. Exciting! I suggested we cook a big meal ourselves that night and asked about the location of the grocery store. I probably should have been clued in when Monty chuckled at my query, but he said it was five minutes down the road. A few people went on a short hike and I walked down to the store to pick up ingredients for dinner. I had pretty grand notions of delicious gourmet dishes and was mentally concocting recipes in my head on my way there. I walked a half mile past the store because I didn’t see it. Well. That may have been due to the fact that it was actually called a deli and there was exactly one scarcely stocked shelf of food. I surveyed my options. It was pretty dismal. I finally settled on a few bags of rice, potatoes, 3 tomatoes, onions, a can of mixed veggies, a SAD set of chicken pieces and a packet of curry powder. I basically cleaned out the store.
Back in the kitchen a few people helped me chop up the “veggies” and boil the rice. We managed to produce a high starch meal of curried rice with veggies and curried potato wedges. Monty decided to join us and offered a fresh package of mince meat from the butcher. Somehow, we managed to turn out a pretty delicious meal! 2 points!
That night Monty joined us for a rousing game of Kings. (Penn people: I have some cool new additions to the game!) The guys introduced us to something called Stroh Rum. Goodness gracious. It’s pretty delicious, but it’s 80% alcohol and it took me about half an hour to recover from the shock of it. Good times. Also, they do these Mexican tequila shots that are tequila with tabasco sauce. I tried to convince them that I had an aversion to T-sauce ever since my babysitter fed me a spoonful of it when I was 6, but they made me do it anyway.
By far, my favorite part of backpack traveling is getting to meet such fantastic people - especially in such a remote area. We all really bonded and became like a little family - and I don’t mean just the people I came with. We got really close with the guys working there and many of the other people lodging there. We met this one adorable couple, Barry and Judith. Barry and Judith are about 70 years old and they are backpacking Africa. God bless them. I really hope I am as cool as these people when I’m their age. They sold their house and bought an apartment on a riverboat on the English Channel to give themselves more freedom to travel like this. They are pretty much the sweetest people ever and offered some fascinating insights on life, marriage, and the world in general. Then we met Maggi, who is from NY and just graduated from St. John’s. She decided not to go to med school and took a year off to travel before going to grad school. She’s a really cool chick and was fun to hang out with. We actually had a lot in common in terms of how we feel about traveling. I hope we can stay in touch and travel together someday. A conversation I had with her about feeling so comfortable at the lodge sparked me to think about the definition of “home.”
What is home, exactly? After 72 hours, I felt completely at home at this little lodge and felt like everyone there was my family. I decided I can feel at home pretty much anywhere, and I don’t know how or why. I have so many places that I have called home the past few years and I’ve felt equally at ease in all of them. How can I feel just as at home in the middle of jungle in Africa surrounded by people who were complete strangers three days ago as I do with my family in New Jersey or my apartment in Philly or with flat-mates in the Res. It’s interesting. I’m starting to think about what home means to me. Why can I adjust so quickly while other people have such a difficult time adapting? What makes a place home? And then in the middle of my philosophical pondering someone handed me a cold beer and a cue stick and all was right in the world.
After a fairly lazy day on Monday, we decided to go to Tsitsikama National Park and hike to this waterfall the guys told us about. The park is on the coast of the Indian Ocean and the campground was beautiful. We approached a sign that indicated the Waterfall Trail and it was marked “Difficult: Not suitable for unexperienced hikers.” We had each done a fair amount of hiking and kind of shrugged and forged through. For awhile, we walked into the woods on a well-traveled path which was occasionally interspersed with man made stairs or bits of concrete in rough spots and we chortled at the warning. Then, after about 45 minutes of mild hiking, we emerged from the bush (as they say) near the shore and gazed at the stretch of jagged coastal rocks in front of us. What happened to the path? Did they actually expect us to scale these natural structures? To the right was a completely vertical mountain and to the left was the Indian Ocean. Jagged rocks it is! These rocks were pretty difficult to climb and took a fair amount of strategy to scale. After about 30 minutes of this, we were pretty drained, but exalted to see flat land. Every once in a while we saw a small yellow paw print to indicate we were still on track. Thanks. Along the way we saw some really beautiful flora and happened upon some interesting little sea creatures and insects. Finally, after about 2 hours and several more stretches of rocks, we heard the water. Then we saw it. A glorious, cascading waterfall, a natural wonder right before my eyes and all I could think was, “How perfect is my life right now?” We swam in the falls for a bit and cooled/cleaned off before attempting the path back.
About halfway back we decided to take a different path that went up the mountain instead of around the coast. We thought it would be easier than scaling the rocks again. We were wrong. It was practically a vertical climb for 2 hours. It didn’t help that we had all run out of water by this point. We kept thinking we were going to hit the campground any minute. We were never right. It just. kept. going. Eventually we fell upon a clearing in the woods with a little pond FULL of water-lillies. It was absolutely stunning and completely unexpected and gave all of us a little second wind and brought smiles to our faces. FINALLY we came upon a rest camp at the top and were able to stop and get water. We still had to walk a long way back to the camp where we were getting picked up, but at least it was flat ground and we were rehydrated. When we finally got back, we learned that we had hiked 14 km (about 10 miles). Not too shabby.
We found a little convenience store that was much better stocked than anything by the lodge, so we stocked up for lunch and dinner. I swear, you have never seen people so excited about eggs, cheese, pasta, and one wilting green pepper. When we got back to the house we made omelettes and they were about the best thing I had ever tasted. Fortunately, even though we had already checked out, they let us hang around to cook lunch and dinner and a few of us snuck in a much-needed shower.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but saying goodbye to our new friends was really hard and kind of emotional. I realized that these guys have pretty difficult lives because they meet great people all the time, make deep connections, and then have to say goodbye a few days later - usually never to be seen again. Barry told me that I was one of the people he would remember, and I knew he was being sincere, so that meant a lot to me. He said I was the first person he ever met from New Jersey and he always wanted to meet someone from there, so I would always be his “Jess from Jersey.” Luckily, Monty is actually moving to Cape Town in a few weeks to work at a backpacker lodge down there, so we promised to visit and keep in touch. The bus ride back was much cleaner (no buggies) and much quieter. We all couldn’t stop talking about what a terrific time we’d had.
Once we got back this morning, we found out that there was an activities fair on campus, so I cleaned up a bit, sent Mom and Dad an email to let them know I was still alive and headed up there. I signed up for Habitat for Humanity first. I really wanted to get involved with that in the States and I thought it’d be a really great experience here. They do builds on the weekends and you can go as often or not as you like. Next I found the photography society. This is pretty cool because they bring in some professionals for tutorials, help you figure out the dark room if you need it and schedule occasional shoots to go on together. The girl said, “It’s pretty laid back. It’s basically a bunch of people who like photography and want to hang out with other people who like it and learn from each other and take great pictures.” That’s basically the definition of what I was looking for.
When I turned around, a nice-looking shirtless man was beckoning me from his table. I walked over and he asked if I was interested in rowing. I laughed and said I’d never done any rowing. He said that was okay - they would teach me and it’s a great way to meet people and see places around the country. He gave me a brochure and I told him I’d think about it with every intention of disappearing in the crowd. I got a bottle of water and 20 minutes later I was signing my name. Sometimes, you just need a challenge. The physical activities of this weekend reminded me how much I missed sports. I missed having a team and practicing and feeling that familiar pain in my muscles. So why not? I may hate it, I may be awful, I may be the worst row South Africa has ever seen.... but so what? I figure, at the very least, I will probably get in really good shape from the conditioning. It’s a club sport, so it’s not super intense, and it seems to be a “what you make of it” kind of deal. At best, I develop a perfect physique, make friends for life, become a champion rower and get recruited for the Olympics. Hey, it could happen
Friday, February 8, 2008
Summer Time
For some reason, the entry from February 4 wasn’t working, so I copied the text into another entry:
Yesterday was a fantastic day. We had our first day of UCT orientation with all the US and international students from other programs or direct enrollment. 500 new potential friends! We all crammed into the Law building at 7:30am and had a little breakfast and received bags with orientation information. Then we all loaded onto a dozen or so buses and began our tour of Cape Town. As we drove through town and around the coast, the tour guide pointed out important buildings like Parliament and such. We made a couple of stops for picture taking and made an extended stop in the Oceanview Township for lunch.
A little history lesson: During apartheid, the black and colored (term for mixed race) people were forced out of their homes into these township areas. When I say forced out of their homes, I mean they were literally flattened with a bulldozer at the first sign of resistance. There is still a pretty big stigma associated with the townships. If you tell someone you’re going there, they’re likely to assume you will be raped and/or killed. When our entourage of buses approached the area, however, we were swarmed with smiling waving children running alongside the buses to greet us. All 500 of us were shuffled into a large auditorium where we feasted on a home-cooked meal. Afterwards, some of the local children involved in an arts organization sang and danced for us. There are a host of ironies when a black girl from a South African township gets up and sings Shania Twain and Celine Dion for a room of 500 mostly white, mostly American people, but she was great and everyone enjoyed it. The dancing was really phenomenal as well. Boys as young as 8 and 9 years old were doing these magnificent feats of balance and strength.
After lunch, I found my way towards a group of small girls playing in a little box of sand (no, not a sandbox - more like a lid of a box filled with sand/dirt) making little sand-castles. I was in love with them in about 30 seconds as one of them introduced me to the others. “I’m Mary, and this is Emmy and this is Ariel.” What is it about children that makes them so easy to love? They are so accepting - no questions asked. They were so friendly and absolutely beautiful. They liked my camera and were excited to take pictures with me. Finally, I had to drag myself away as the buses were honking for us to go.
As we left, everyone stood on the sides of the street waving goodbye to us. Now, this is not to say I would venture into a township alone or uninvited, but I can’t remember the last time I had such a warm welcome or departing.
Next we drove to Cape Point, or the Cape of Good Hope and did a lot of climbing up and down mountains with some spectacular views. I took tons of great pictures here.
Finally, we went to Simon’s Town to see the penguin colony!!!!! They’re SOO cute. Again, tons of pictures. After we got back, a few of us went grocery shopping and had dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. Food is pretty cheap here. I got two bags full of staple groceries (pb, cheese, fruit, pasta, etc) and it cost about $10. For dinner I had a huge plate of puttanesca pasta and a glass of red wine and I paid less than $10. I guess it’s a trade off because I think I will be spending more money for things like transportation and internet.
My living situation has officially become reality TV show worthy. And hey, with the writer’s strike, it might actually be picked up! My other two roommates moved in. I am now living with 3 guys: an American and two guys from Zimbabwe. That should be interesting. They both seem very nice and when I came home yesterday they were both cooking something delicious. Their names are Busani and MK and they’re both from Zimbabwe. Busani is in his 4th year studying Finance and MK is a 2nd year studying audiology, which is like speech pathology. I have a little trouble understanding them because of their accents, but I think I’ll get used to it pretty soon. I didn’t get too much time to talk to them because I was exhausted and pretty much went straight to bed, but I think it’ll be a good time.
Taking a shower is quite the comedy. Yesterday, I discovered that nothing came out when you turned the hot water on, so I took a brisk ice water shower at 7am which woke me right up. It was pretty unpleasant. Then, I discovered that if you take the shower head off its hook and bring it down to the tub level, hot water comes out of the faucet, but not the showerhead. I decided hot water was better. So this morning I had the exciting experience of trying to bathe from this bath faucet by basically just splashing water on myself. It’s so low to the ground that I couldn’t wash my hair unless I maneuvered my body to lay completely flat. Again, it was pretty unpleasant. For now, I think the hot water maneuver-method is still the lesser of two evils.
Today I’m going to an African drum workshop!
Yesterday was a fantastic day. We had our first day of UCT orientation with all the US and international students from other programs or direct enrollment. 500 new potential friends! We all crammed into the Law building at 7:30am and had a little breakfast and received bags with orientation information. Then we all loaded onto a dozen or so buses and began our tour of Cape Town. As we drove through town and around the coast, the tour guide pointed out important buildings like Parliament and such. We made a couple of stops for picture taking and made an extended stop in the Oceanview Township for lunch.
A little history lesson: During apartheid, the black and colored (term for mixed race) people were forced out of their homes into these township areas. When I say forced out of their homes, I mean they were literally flattened with a bulldozer at the first sign of resistance. There is still a pretty big stigma associated with the townships. If you tell someone you’re going there, they’re likely to assume you will be raped and/or killed. When our entourage of buses approached the area, however, we were swarmed with smiling waving children running alongside the buses to greet us. All 500 of us were shuffled into a large auditorium where we feasted on a home-cooked meal. Afterwards, some of the local children involved in an arts organization sang and danced for us. There are a host of ironies when a black girl from a South African township gets up and sings Shania Twain and Celine Dion for a room of 500 mostly white, mostly American people, but she was great and everyone enjoyed it. The dancing was really phenomenal as well. Boys as young as 8 and 9 years old were doing these magnificent feats of balance and strength.
After lunch, I found my way towards a group of small girls playing in a little box of sand (no, not a sandbox - more like a lid of a box filled with sand/dirt) making little sand-castles. I was in love with them in about 30 seconds as one of them introduced me to the others. “I’m Mary, and this is Emmy and this is Ariel.” What is it about children that makes them so easy to love? They are so accepting - no questions asked. They were so friendly and absolutely beautiful. They liked my camera and were excited to take pictures with me. Finally, I had to drag myself away as the buses were honking for us to go.
As we left, everyone stood on the sides of the street waving goodbye to us. Now, this is not to say I would venture into a township alone or uninvited, but I can’t remember the last time I had such a warm welcome or departing.
Next we drove to Cape Point, or the Cape of Good Hope and did a lot of climbing up and down mountains with some spectacular views. I took tons of great pictures here.
Finally, we went to Simon’s Town to see the penguin colony!!!!! They’re SOO cute. Again, tons of pictures. After we got back, a few of us went grocery shopping and had dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. Food is pretty cheap here. I got two bags full of staple groceries (pb, cheese, fruit, pasta, etc) and it cost about $10. For dinner I had a huge plate of puttanesca pasta and a glass of red wine and I paid less than $10. I guess it’s a trade off because I think I will be spending more money for things like transportation and internet.
My living situation has officially become reality TV show worthy. And hey, with the writer’s strike, it might actually be picked up! My other two roommates moved in. I am now living with 3 guys: an American and two guys from Zimbabwe. That should be interesting. They both seem very nice and when I came home yesterday they were both cooking something delicious. Their names are Busani and MK and they’re both from Zimbabwe. Busani is in his 4th year studying Finance and MK is a 2nd year studying audiology, which is like speech pathology. I have a little trouble understanding them because of their accents, but I think I’ll get used to it pretty soon. I didn’t get too much time to talk to them because I was exhausted and pretty much went straight to bed, but I think it’ll be a good time.
Taking a shower is quite the comedy. Yesterday, I discovered that nothing came out when you turned the hot water on, so I took a brisk ice water shower at 7am which woke me right up. It was pretty unpleasant. Then, I discovered that if you take the shower head off its hook and bring it down to the tub level, hot water comes out of the faucet, but not the showerhead. I decided hot water was better. So this morning I had the exciting experience of trying to bathe from this bath faucet by basically just splashing water on myself. It’s so low to the ground that I couldn’t wash my hair unless I maneuvered my body to lay completely flat. Again, it was pretty unpleasant. For now, I think the hot water maneuver-method is still the lesser of two evils.
Today I’m going to an African drum workshop!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Mirror, Mirror
Today at orientation I got my first taste of registration without internet - and it is pretty bitter. After orientation we had a short tour of campus and then were free to enter our personal registration hell. Here are the steps to registering:
Pre-registration: Making sure you have paid your tuition, are here legally, etc. (CIEE took care of this for us last week!)
Pre-Approval: (Multiple steps) - Find a large excel chart and find out if you were pre-pre-approved for any courses you requested on your application. I had two. Neither were for my major. One I changed my mind about. Damn. - Get a pink form from an office - Consult one handbook (to be shared between EVERYONE) to look at course listings and timetable. - Find the department for which you want to take a course. - Track down the head of the department. - Beg him/her to let you in desired course(s). - Repeat as necessary until you have enough credits to register as a full student.
REGISTRATION: Take your pink form and white form (no clue) and wait in a series of queues in the hot hot heat for multiple hours.
Also, the credit system is really different here. 100 level courses are 3 cu, 200s are 4 cu, and 300s are 6 cu. Standard course load is 14 credits, so I think I’m actually only going to take 3 courses - one 300 and two 200s. I also got pre-approved for a really interesting Religious Studies course, but I don’t think I should attempt 20 credits at a foreign university where they don’t recommend you take more than 15.
Ahhh stress. Now if I could just find internet, I need to email Penn and beg them to accept these credits and pray that they think 3 courses is a heavy enough course load and pray that the PSCI department pre-approves credit for these two courses. GAHHH.
Tonight we had dinner at a Mexican place around the corner called the Fat Cactus which sells incredibly cheap pitchers of margaritas. Mm mm good! Tequila girl in Africa!
After dinner we went to a CIEE subsidized play at the Baxter Theatre called Mirror, Mirror. It was a political satire of the South African government and was really interesting. It was set against the background of a generic fairy-tale town/social strata but contained a lot of relevant themes about power struggles within political parties and how it effects the lower social classes. It was performed in a black box theatre by a troupe of about 6 people who played all the roles by exchanging props and costume pieces from boxes on the sides of the stage. It was really good!
I totally had nothing to worry about with my roommates - they are the sweetest guys ever!!! Last night Busani cooked dinner for everyone and saved some for me when I came home. He said it was his first time cooking, but it was so good I don’t believe him! Busani calls me Jessi, which is really adorable because he knocks on my door in the morning and says, “Ok, see you Jessi” or “Jessi, can I have just two slices (of bread)?” Last night some of us were drinking wine (and playing Bananagrams) in my room and he was like, “Jessi can I see you just a minute?” and he wanted me to approve that he was cooking the meat correctly. MK is also really cool and is always playing what he calls “House music” which is some ecclectic techno type music.
The shower situation has not much improved. I was completely determined to take a normal shower this morning, but after washing my hair I just could not stand it another minute and ended up making a warm bath to regain feeling in my extremities. This is not like a “cool” shower, we’re talking icy cold here. It’s pretty unbearable. I might try adjusting my schedule to shower in the afternoons when it’s especially hot, but I don’t think that’s going to work with my class schedule. Ah well. Not the worst that could happen.
Supposedly the guy came to install my internet today, but I’m not picking up a signal. It’s getting pretty frustrating. I feel kind of disconnected from the rest of the world, which is kind of sucky since it’s Super Tuesday and everything...
Much love to all my favorite people performing/working this weekend for The Vagina Monologues and The Goat!!!!
Pre-registration: Making sure you have paid your tuition, are here legally, etc. (CIEE took care of this for us last week!)
Pre-Approval: (Multiple steps) - Find a large excel chart and find out if you were pre-pre-approved for any courses you requested on your application. I had two. Neither were for my major. One I changed my mind about. Damn. - Get a pink form from an office - Consult one handbook (to be shared between EVERYONE) to look at course listings and timetable. - Find the department for which you want to take a course. - Track down the head of the department. - Beg him/her to let you in desired course(s). - Repeat as necessary until you have enough credits to register as a full student.
REGISTRATION: Take your pink form and white form (no clue) and wait in a series of queues in the hot hot heat for multiple hours.
Also, the credit system is really different here. 100 level courses are 3 cu, 200s are 4 cu, and 300s are 6 cu. Standard course load is 14 credits, so I think I’m actually only going to take 3 courses - one 300 and two 200s. I also got pre-approved for a really interesting Religious Studies course, but I don’t think I should attempt 20 credits at a foreign university where they don’t recommend you take more than 15.
Ahhh stress. Now if I could just find internet, I need to email Penn and beg them to accept these credits and pray that they think 3 courses is a heavy enough course load and pray that the PSCI department pre-approves credit for these two courses. GAHHH.
Tonight we had dinner at a Mexican place around the corner called the Fat Cactus which sells incredibly cheap pitchers of margaritas. Mm mm good! Tequila girl in Africa!
After dinner we went to a CIEE subsidized play at the Baxter Theatre called Mirror, Mirror. It was a political satire of the South African government and was really interesting. It was set against the background of a generic fairy-tale town/social strata but contained a lot of relevant themes about power struggles within political parties and how it effects the lower social classes. It was performed in a black box theatre by a troupe of about 6 people who played all the roles by exchanging props and costume pieces from boxes on the sides of the stage. It was really good!
I totally had nothing to worry about with my roommates - they are the sweetest guys ever!!! Last night Busani cooked dinner for everyone and saved some for me when I came home. He said it was his first time cooking, but it was so good I don’t believe him! Busani calls me Jessi, which is really adorable because he knocks on my door in the morning and says, “Ok, see you Jessi” or “Jessi, can I have just two slices (of bread)?” Last night some of us were drinking wine (and playing Bananagrams) in my room and he was like, “Jessi can I see you just a minute?” and he wanted me to approve that he was cooking the meat correctly. MK is also really cool and is always playing what he calls “House music” which is some ecclectic techno type music.
The shower situation has not much improved. I was completely determined to take a normal shower this morning, but after washing my hair I just could not stand it another minute and ended up making a warm bath to regain feeling in my extremities. This is not like a “cool” shower, we’re talking icy cold here. It’s pretty unbearable. I might try adjusting my schedule to shower in the afternoons when it’s especially hot, but I don’t think that’s going to work with my class schedule. Ah well. Not the worst that could happen.
Supposedly the guy came to install my internet today, but I’m not picking up a signal. It’s getting pretty frustrating. I feel kind of disconnected from the rest of the world, which is kind of sucky since it’s Super Tuesday and everything...
Much love to all my favorite people performing/working this weekend for The Vagina Monologues and The Goat!!!!
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Baby, When the Lights Go Out
Today was a flurry of utter fascination and reflection.
I got up at 7am this morning so I could shower, eat breakfast, and be ready for an 8:00 bus to UCT. By 9:00, no one had moved from the meeting site and our coordinators were suspiciously absent. Here, they call this “Africa time.” In America, we call this “late.” An hour is basically the standard waiting time for anything around here: meetings, buses, dinner, etc. We still can’t help but show up when they tell us to, but we know better than to complain, so we just quietly resent that hour that could have been spent sleeping or eating rather than standing around in an awkward horde of 150.
Finally we made it to UCT, which is breathtakingly beautiful. I just kept thinking, “I go to school here!” The view overlooking the city is spectacular, and the backdrop of Table Mountain is slightly unreal. The pictures don’t do it justice. The European buildings draped in ivy are a slightly eerie and not-so-subtle reminder of colonialism (as is much of the architecture), but the campus is beautiful all the same.
We went to a lecture hall and received presentations for various volunteer options. I am pretty set on one option that involves creating after-school lesson plans and teaching at a children’s home. You have to interview for this group, so I am hoping my West Philly school background will give me some bonus points. This is one of many groups/companies that is run by former American CIEE students who have returned to live in Cape Town. I take this as a good sign that I will continue to have a fabulous semester.
After a delicious lunch we had another lecture on academics and course registration. This was horrifying. With 20,000+ students, UCT has possibly the most archaic, primitive, RIDICULOUS systems of course registration I could possibly fathom. Next week, I will be running around to various departments to wait for professors who don’t show up to ask for a pre-registration pink form for a class. On Friday, I have been warned that I will spend approximately 3 hours in a “queue” in the blistering heat so that I may or may not get my pink form processed. Following this, I will go to have my picture taken for my ID card. I’m sure it will be stunning. I am SO spoiled with Penn in Touch...
Tonight we all went to Marco’s African Place for a traditional African meal. I tried ox tail, which was surprisingly delicious! Some of you will appreciate this: an African band played the bongos while we ate, and I thought I recognized the rhythm/melody of the first song. After a few minutes I realized it was “Right Here Waiting for You.” My 3 year old self beamed.
Here’s where the excitement begins! About a half hour into waiting for our food to come, the lights went out. As some of you know, South Africa is having a serious problem with electrical power. The government anticipated this problem about 10 years ago, but for whatever reason, decided not to fix it, and now it’s a mess. The front page of the newspaper has headlines like “Minister Says - Go to Bed Early.” Very comforting. The most amazing thing about this instant was that the band never skipped a beat, they kept right on going - everything did! We ate in darkness, which was probably a good thing, because I had no idea what I was eating, but it tasted good in my mouth (whatever it was)!
Now, here’s the bad part. After dinner and some serious dancing, we had to walk home. Let me tell you, Cape Town is like Cape Fear when it’s WELL lit. Walking through the streets in pitch blackness is pretty much a rape/robbery/death trap, and we all knew it. We walked in groups, but it was still probably the most terrifying 10 minutes of my life. It didn’t help that when a creepy drunk guy snuck up behind us and said “Don’t be afraid - be very, very afraid,” one of the two guys that was walking with us pushed the girls out of the way to run to the front of the group. Thanks, man.
When we finally reached the hotel we felt slightly better, but the power was totally out there, too, and they were all out of candles. As frightening as this experience was (and will continue to be, since these things happen ALL the time), it really made me reflect on how privileged we are in America. I was scared walking home from dinner, but the people who live here have to put up with this all the time. They are constantly living in fear. The crime is completely out of control here. Today, Emily’s necklace was snatched off of her neck by some kid as she was walking down the street. Another girl had her wallet stolen last night. It’s really bad. I have been trying to carry as little as possible on me at all times and I walk fast with an iron grip on my purse. It’s very difficult for me because I am normally so independent, but here I know that I literally can NOT walk alone at night under any circumstances. It’s going to be a tough adjustment, but it’s worth it.
So now I’m sitting in bed with my little lantern light. Good times!
Tomorrow I move into my apartment!!!!
I got up at 7am this morning so I could shower, eat breakfast, and be ready for an 8:00 bus to UCT. By 9:00, no one had moved from the meeting site and our coordinators were suspiciously absent. Here, they call this “Africa time.” In America, we call this “late.” An hour is basically the standard waiting time for anything around here: meetings, buses, dinner, etc. We still can’t help but show up when they tell us to, but we know better than to complain, so we just quietly resent that hour that could have been spent sleeping or eating rather than standing around in an awkward horde of 150.
Finally we made it to UCT, which is breathtakingly beautiful. I just kept thinking, “I go to school here!” The view overlooking the city is spectacular, and the backdrop of Table Mountain is slightly unreal. The pictures don’t do it justice. The European buildings draped in ivy are a slightly eerie and not-so-subtle reminder of colonialism (as is much of the architecture), but the campus is beautiful all the same.
We went to a lecture hall and received presentations for various volunteer options. I am pretty set on one option that involves creating after-school lesson plans and teaching at a children’s home. You have to interview for this group, so I am hoping my West Philly school background will give me some bonus points. This is one of many groups/companies that is run by former American CIEE students who have returned to live in Cape Town. I take this as a good sign that I will continue to have a fabulous semester.
After a delicious lunch we had another lecture on academics and course registration. This was horrifying. With 20,000+ students, UCT has possibly the most archaic, primitive, RIDICULOUS systems of course registration I could possibly fathom. Next week, I will be running around to various departments to wait for professors who don’t show up to ask for a pre-registration pink form for a class. On Friday, I have been warned that I will spend approximately 3 hours in a “queue” in the blistering heat so that I may or may not get my pink form processed. Following this, I will go to have my picture taken for my ID card. I’m sure it will be stunning. I am SO spoiled with Penn in Touch...
Tonight we all went to Marco’s African Place for a traditional African meal. I tried ox tail, which was surprisingly delicious! Some of you will appreciate this: an African band played the bongos while we ate, and I thought I recognized the rhythm/melody of the first song. After a few minutes I realized it was “Right Here Waiting for You.” My 3 year old self beamed.
Here’s where the excitement begins! About a half hour into waiting for our food to come, the lights went out. As some of you know, South Africa is having a serious problem with electrical power. The government anticipated this problem about 10 years ago, but for whatever reason, decided not to fix it, and now it’s a mess. The front page of the newspaper has headlines like “Minister Says - Go to Bed Early.” Very comforting. The most amazing thing about this instant was that the band never skipped a beat, they kept right on going - everything did! We ate in darkness, which was probably a good thing, because I had no idea what I was eating, but it tasted good in my mouth (whatever it was)!
Now, here’s the bad part. After dinner and some serious dancing, we had to walk home. Let me tell you, Cape Town is like Cape Fear when it’s WELL lit. Walking through the streets in pitch blackness is pretty much a rape/robbery/death trap, and we all knew it. We walked in groups, but it was still probably the most terrifying 10 minutes of my life. It didn’t help that when a creepy drunk guy snuck up behind us and said “Don’t be afraid - be very, very afraid,” one of the two guys that was walking with us pushed the girls out of the way to run to the front of the group. Thanks, man.
When we finally reached the hotel we felt slightly better, but the power was totally out there, too, and they were all out of candles. As frightening as this experience was (and will continue to be, since these things happen ALL the time), it really made me reflect on how privileged we are in America. I was scared walking home from dinner, but the people who live here have to put up with this all the time. They are constantly living in fear. The crime is completely out of control here. Today, Emily’s necklace was snatched off of her neck by some kid as she was walking down the street. Another girl had her wallet stolen last night. It’s really bad. I have been trying to carry as little as possible on me at all times and I walk fast with an iron grip on my purse. It’s very difficult for me because I am normally so independent, but here I know that I literally can NOT walk alone at night under any circumstances. It’s going to be a tough adjustment, but it’s worth it.
So now I’m sitting in bed with my little lantern light. Good times!
Tomorrow I move into my apartment!!!!
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