Yhu! Ndiyacaphuka. ( Yhu! I'm frustrated )

The past 2 weeks have really fallen into the category of "not my best two weeks in Cape Town." In fact, I would venture as far as to say they could be described even more accurately as... my worst two weeks in Cape Town.

Let me see. We had house break in number 2. I may have mentioned this already, but I don't think there is any understating the amount of crime here. So here it is again. In the middle of the day, (?!) a man was seen by Andreas with a knife a prowling around our back garden. He had taken Cyril's computer and camera. The police came surprisingly quickly with guns drawn, but amapolisa akanceda thuthuthu (the police don't help at all, at all). So nothing was done and they tried to blame this on some shoes being kept outside. Shoes lure criminals. That logic falls apart when the criminals fail to steal the shoes. Get your country under control. That may have been 3 weeks ago at this point, regardless it still falls into the Winter Epoch.

We had a man in a florescent jacket steal a bag of a friend from underneath the table while we were sitting at dinner. Inside of a restaurant. The restaurant manager (Sloppy Sam) then commissioned some security guards to chase the thieves down, but don't turn them in to the police; rather he wanted them brought back to his restaurant so he could "have a word with them." This guy was so clearly in the mob.

I got hooted at by some hookers. WHO WERE MEN! (you could tell.) That, "Hey Baby," was a high-water mark for awesome times in the last few weeks.

I tried to replace my passport last week. This was the beginning of the end for me. I decided to take the train to Steenburg and then walk an hour to the US consulate general. Why I would ever decide to take the train and then walk an hour in Cape Town is beyond me. Something about US Consulate said safety. Anyways. I buy my 3rd class train ticket, board the first car that stops in front of me. Looks like a rundown Cape Town car as usual, good enough. I ride for a while, listen to a blind man sing Kumbaiya (sp?), watch some other man who is clearly nuts make some creature out of wires and beads, normal day on the train. Then! In a surprising turn of events, security actually shows up (for the first time I've ever seen) and starts checking tickets. I show mine, and the woman checking it alerts me that I'm using a third ticket in a first class car. I ask her, well how can you tell the difference? (because the same crazies are on this car and it looks the same) This man will tell you. And a man comes over, tells me where I must look to determine the class and also I must pay a R40 fine and a extra R8 for the first class ticket. Very cheap fine, but still an annoyance. When I exit the train, the area looks pretty filthy. But using my ever-shard sense of direction, I start following Military Road in what I believe to northern direction towards the US Consulate. I walk for quite a while, and as I walk, the fact that the US Consulate is probably not in the direction becomes exponentially more apparent. I start seeing the corrugated iron used for roofs in townships cropping up in increasingly clever places (fences, walls, etc.) [this is not a good sign], I start seeing hungry dogs, then I come to the outdoor markets. And I begin to realize I am the only white person on the street at all. But I keep walking... That is until I get to Prince Edward Blvd. Because just beyond this road is the township all the poverty around me has been hinting at. At this point I realize someone is hollering something at me that I don't care to listen to. All eyes on me. Here I go into a VERY brisk walk back to the train station. Upon my arrival to the station, I realize that I went the wrong way down military road in the first place and I could have saved myself a lot of trouble by reading the directions a little more carefully.

The next night I began to feel a little sick. The awfulness of the sickness was compounded by my first and only real assignment of the semester that I had to spend all night writing. Obviously, I didn't get any healthier by staying up all night. The next morning was perhaps the sickest I ever remember being (but I don't get sick very often). I was rather delirious at the time and convinced myself at the time that I had caught TB 0r some other serious disease during my brief jaunt to the township. That lasted about 6 hours; since then, I've been more or less confined to bed. But I'm on the mend, and am optimistic Cape Town is breaking me down so it can rectify in a big way right before I leave. Probably in the form of the World Cup.

Winter here is strange. Number one. It's still hot during the day unless it's windy. Just really cold at night. The next three days are rain. I've missed rain. I think it's rain maybe 4 times since we got here.

My Security Guy

I haven't written in here in forever and there is too much to say to really catch up at the moment, but I feel inclined to share the conversation I just had with anyone who may be reading this. This man has been working all day to set up an electric fence to prevent a third+ break in of our house. He's clearly Afrikaner, and also, clearly out of his mind. The conversation began with him asking me what courses I was taking I told him a Pan African history course, Xhosa (which was meant with some resentment), and an African instruments course. This third one really piqued his interest, and he began to tell me about how he has always wanted to learn how to play the marimba. Also he said, "You know you can make these with your hands? The blacks do this all the time." The way he said "blacks," the intonation, really set off some alarms that I was dealing with a man who certainly grew up under apartheid and has yet to change his opinions. So I respond with a respectfully South African "Is it?" Then he begins to tell me that under South African law, because I have been taught how to play marimba I can go into the "the rural areas, the black areas" and teach children. But he wasn't done, no, nowhere near done. He began to then tell me why they need to learn how to play instruments, the most pressing reason they need to learn is because... "the Xhosa, they are lazy buggers"... They simply want to be laborers and if they learned to play drums and xylophones, they could work on the street corners. "The Zulu are the only ones, they can make strech a skin and make shields and spears." Now I'm really shaking my head, the assumption he just made was that black Africans are only suitable to work on street corners, weapon makers, and as laborers. But he continues on about how if you go to Kenya or Seychelles (of all African countries...Seychelles?) "blacks playing these funny little instruments with their mouths." He now put his hands to his mouth in an attempt to pantomime these little instruments the Kenyans and Seychellois play in a most humorous manner. So I let him continue on his racist rant for a while. Finally he asks where I'm from? Eh? America? Oh well I just bought some books from America. Books on how to make artificial rocks. Let me show you my rocks. Then he pulls out his phone and shows me rocks and African masks he has made. When I ask if he made the African masks, he said yes, he bought one wooden one from the markets downtown and turned into a mold for other masks he would make out of "fiberglass cement." He plans to hire 2-3 blacks to sell these downtown. He told me.

His next rant was about the books on artificial rocks and how he managed to procure them. It was a real hassle, and they were expensive he mentioned. When I asked him why he didn't order them online, he told me that he doesn't use a credit card(this was a sign of things to come). Okay, why don't you use a bank card? He was convinced you would need to give a company your pin number and they would continually withdraw money from your account if you bought anything online. I suggested he watch his account for fraudulent activity, he told me you can't buy things online with bank cards. Okay, crazy. Then he told me about his bank card woes.

Apparently in SA, when you put money in the bank, they take out money, when you take it out, they take out money, and when you let it sit in the bank, they take out money. So according to him, this really screws the pensioners. His next point was wholly based on logic and hard fact. After going on about how criminal the banking system in SA is he let me know that, "You know, these crazy Terminator movies are just a sign of what's going to happen. Cameras everywhere. There is going to be all these haves and have nots. There will probably be a war." Not to mention this isn't what Terminator is about at all, this is one of the craziest things I've ever heard. His evidence for all this is the fact that there are surcharges at ATMs and administration fees in SA banks. Ridiculous. But he continued, "In America, they don't even use money any more. It's all online. These top 12 guys in the world aren't stupid. That's why they made the Euro. It's only in like 4-5 countries right now, but soon its going to be the world currency. And then we'll just be online with Euro credits. Then it'll happen with the petrol, BP and Shell will join together." This man was truly a lunatic. I finally decided to I had to leave before I started laughing at this guys wildly erratic behavior, and just told him he was painting a pretty grim picture for the future. He left me with a "Stay in school, kid" Okay, he didn't say the kid part. But I wish he had. I hope this makes up for my lack of posting. Maybe I'll try to post again soon.

A Serious Problem

What I believe to be one of the most pressing issues confronting South Africa's youth today has come to my attention this week. The problem that I'm referring to is the presence of novelty T-shirts. Shirts with messages including, "I'm Sotally Tober" "A Weekend Wasted is not a Wasted Weekend" "I Can See Uranus" and "Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful, Hate Me Because Your Boyfriend Thinks So," need to be stopped immediately. Why anyone would buy a shirt like that is beyond me. It's a serious problem. Half of the South African population at UCT (real statistic) wears these shirts, and it blows my mind that how ridiculous and unfunny these shirts are. Its something you wear when you're 15. It baffles the mind.

That's not all I have to say today about South African clothing. Something else that bothers me and it is absurd that it does is my favorite South African clothing store, "Polo." But wait Nate, isn't Polo an American brand? Not so fast, my friend! There's nothing Ralph Lauren about this Polo. It's the same logo except backwards (The fact that I even notice this is a true testament to my going to Con.). It drives me crazy. Backwards! That's a pretty silly thing to be bothered by.

This week I learned how crazy pronunciation of Afrikaans is. Like not at all what you would think. UCT's Hospital is called Groote Schuur. Obviously it's pronounced Grewt Sh-ur. Nope! It's actually pronounced Hrewt-A-Ski (You got roll that H in the back of the throat). I don't think there are any pronunciation rules for this language, its just putting letters on paper and assigning other sounds to them.

Friday night, I had a fantastic experience. After doing a number similar to the week before (minus the wine at the bus stop) and getting stranded in downtown CT at UCT's campus there, I met some people coming out of a play who taught me about Jammie Surfing. It's riding the UCT Jammie Shuttles and standing up while the bus is in motion. This is fairly tame unless you get a driver like the one we had this night. Clearly intoxicated. As soon as someone would stand up here would SLAM on the brakes sending the surfer flying forward. These are busy roads even at night and he was just slamming on the brakes. Totally dangerous. And funny. Because that's how SA is, the more dangerous it is the funnier it probably is as well.

Went to a rugby game last night. I realized I don't understand the intricacies of that sport at all. The basic gameplay is very similar to real football. But then they just punt for seemingly no reason, and there are strange things that happen like guys get lifted from time to time. But it was fun nonetheless, Western Cape Stormers rocked the Wellington (NZ) Hurricanes 30-8.

Found a bar where they sell cans of Guinness, bottles of Beck's, and Pilsner Urdquell for R12 (less than $2) How are they making any profit? Those are all imported and usually cost a lot more everywhere else. Maybe that's why there's so much poverty here (not funny), but seriously it makes no sense.

We embark on our tour of the Garden Route (SA's Southern Coast) next week. Should be a blast. I have no idea what our plans are. But ostrich riding is at the top of my to-do list. Maybe meet some locals and go hunting. That's probably not true, but sounds exotic. Rune wants to go to Monkey Island, I don't know what that is, but it sounds touristy and I like it. And Monkeys. I like monkeys.

Xhosa is an impossible language to speak. Comprehension is up though. Test on Wednesday and Thursday. I should be fine though. Wish I could keep learning this language at home, way more fun than Spanish.

River of Dreams by Billy Joel, the soundtrack to my childhood memories, has been on repeat on my computer this week. What a great album. Billy Joel in general is fantastic. This had nothing to do with travel/ SA, but it needed to be said.

A friend asked me how big the Conn football stadium was last night. For obvious reasons, this is hilarious.

Townships Are Burning in the Western Cape

If I were to write a book, that's what I would call it. I think it has a great poetic ring.

Not to mention that's constantly happening. Townships are always burning, and I have no explanation for this. But yes, so my book waiting to be written will be called "Townships Are Burning in the Western Cape."

This week was low on the adventure scale. My only real adventure could be titled " A Tale of NonViolent Protest." It all started on Friday evening when I got done playing soccer (pretty much all I did this week) and got home at around 7 only to find out that we had taxis ORDERED for 7:30. The thing about taxis is when you order them, you can't negotiate the price and you get ripped off. So ordering taxis is essentially spending my money without asking. This doesn't even mention the fact that there always taxis parked a 2 minute walk from our house. So in 30 minutes I needed to get showered, changed, and since we were going out I wanted to save on money at the bars, drink some at home. So I decided I would check the Jammie Shuttle Schedule (the free UCT bus service) and see if they were going downtown any time in the near future. And they were, at 7:40, still a time crunch, so I figured I would bring my wine on the bus, hope the restaurant has some kind of BYOB policy, get it uncorked at the restaurant. So I rush through the shower, etc. and run to the Jammie stop, get there 5 minutes early only to find out the bus left already, so now I appeared to be screwed. My friends had left in a taxi, and the next Jammie didn't leave until 8:55 (55 minutes after our dinner reservations). But my choices were spend about R50 on a taxi myself (An exact contradiction of my act of protest) or wait an 1:20 for the next bus on the other side of campus. I chose B because I'm cheap and on a budget. So I walked across campus which was absolutely deserted on a Friday at 8, and took a seat at the Jammie Shuttle Stop with my bottle of wine and proceeded to wait. (In retrospect this story is not that exciting) The story essentially ends with my drinking my bottle of wine at the bus stop and talking to this guy from Uganda about how inefficient the Jammie Shuttles are. Not exciting. I'm sorry I even told that story.

This week I also learned that I don't know what a CV is. And my task for Inkanyezi (volunteer organization) was to teach the kids how to write a CV. I taught them how to make a resume, because I don't know what the difference is.

Also this week I decided that this place isn't a place I could ever LIVE. It's the ultimate vacation spot, but its so close to the US in a lot of ways that the things that are really different or missing from home seem to stick out more. Because of this I've decided my next extended trip will be well off the beaten path, I currently have my mind set on Mongolia (I don't think you can get further off the beaten path than the least densely populated country in the world) Well except maybe Pacific islands, or Chad.

There are 10 countries in the world that have 4 letters. (The one you'll always forget is Chad) No one ever remembers that one. Laos, Oman, Iran, Iraq, Figi, Peru, Chad, Cuba, Togo, Mali.

I have very little to say today.

The train yesterday (the one that is free on the weekend) was so packed. I've never been more squished anywhere, ever.

Speaking of trains, a girl riding a bike was hit by a train on a Stellenbosch wine tour. She's a legend. Just broke here arm. But where in the world is it easy enough to ride a bike off the road and directly onto train tracks (South Africa was the answer).

The weather looks okay today. Very hot, but I have no work, so I may try to hike Devil's Peak or Table Mountain.

My next post will be better.

I'm also totally cut off from the news, I've mostly stopped using the internet during the week. So if anything big is happening in the world, I don't know about it. It's very strange to be so cut off.

Quiet Week in the Southern Hemisphere

This week I was a little concerned I wouldn't have anything worth while to talk about on the old blog. But then... yesterday rolled around in classic Capetonian fashion with some good old fashioned insanity. The two stories from yesterday, as usual, revolve around the informal

salesmen at the beach and a minibus ride.

I'm unsure if I've talked about the informal beach salesmen before. But if I haven't they are the guys walking around the beach with coolers constantly yelling "IceCreamIceCreamGetYouMineralWaterIceColdCokeGreenNYellowLollies!" on repeat. All the time. You don't sleep on Cape Town's beaches. But anyways, I realized maybe an "IceColdCoke" would be a worthwhile purchase. So I wait about two seconds for one to come and harass us. I asked the man if he had any Coke. "Of course, my brother. But you must wait a minute." And he walked away. Left his coolers and just walked away. I watched this guy walk off the beach, up to a man sitting in a chair on the sidewalk. Talk with him for a few minutes and then continue walking. At this point I decided to find out where he was going. So I followed him. I followed him until he walked into a grocery store right across the street. This man was going into a grocery store to buy me a Coke and then sell it to me at a huge markup. So I set a limit of how much I would pay this man R15 (while they cost about 12 in stores). After about 20 minutes, he comes back with one Coke. "20 Rand, my friend"... "Sir, did you just go to the Pick N Pay to buy that Coke?".... "No! No! I take my job very seriously! I'm not trying to play anyone"... "Regardless, man, I'm not paying more than R15."....After much arguing he sells it to me for 15. But turns out he only has R3 change. (This is surprisingly common here, no one ever has change. I've had taxis drop me off and say they will call me later to get payment when they have change.) So I take the 3 Rand and he says he'll be back in a few minutes with my change. But then! All of the sudden the man has an epiphany. He sees my housemate Rune's R2 coin on his blanket. Picks it up and gives it to me telling me "Here is your change." You have to be kidding me right now. This guy just picked up Rune's money, while I was watching and tried to give it to me. Takes his job seriously my ass. After calling him on this he says he'll be back with my change soon. He didn't come back. But I was still content with the story.

My second story from yesterday comes from the minibus ride back. After getting dropped off at the taxi rank and being probably the most scared I've been here, going across the bridge with the touchy-feely homeless people, I get into a minibus via Wynberg(!) and we begin to drive off. At the first robot outside of the minibus rank, a man runs off the sidewalk and jumps onto the back of our bus as we continue to drive. (See Picture Above). This wasn't a joke to this guy, he rode for about three blocks and then just got off his free ride. The free rider situation was alarming to everyone on the bus, not typical behavior, I guess.

Asides from those things, this week was pretty slow. Had a nice hike up Devil's Peak, played soccer in the Cage a few times. The soccer in the Cage can either be tons of fun or the most frustrating thing I've ever done. There are about 30 guys there 6 teams of 5. You've got the Zambian guys (who are enormous), two teams of Americans, the old guys, the guys that call each other names of South African presidents. (They at least have someone they call Zuma and someone called Thabo Mbecki), and the team with the guy with the dreads. You play first to one goal, then the next team comes on. So if you are winning its great fun. But if you are losing because you are playing the teams that will just shoot every time they cross half field its beyond frustrating. No fun to play D if you know you're just going to be kicked.

Not getting service at this cafe even after asking for my drink twice.

Last weekend something I didn't mention, but amused me all the same and not really SA specific. Were my two run ins with hardcore alcohol abuse last weekend. Both pretty scary, both rather funny. 1.) My friends and I went to Cafe Sofia to catch a soccer match, we get there about 4:30. At about 4:45 this table sits down right next to us. They order some beers. Nothing exciting so far. Then about 10 minutes later, I notice one of the guys sleeping. Now this Cafe Sofia is not a quiet place, the game is on high volume, people get really into the games cheering and what not. But this guy sleeps on. For the entire game. I figured he must have gotten bit by our old friend the TseTse fly ( I don't think they have those in SA) but sleeping sickness seemed to be the order of the day because he was OUT. About the 90th minute of the game. He starts to rise. Now the not so funny part starts. He starts throwing up all over the restaurant. It was vile. The manager comes over, tells his friends to escort him out. On his way out he can barely walk, but the one thing he can do is, grab his beer on the way out the door. That amused me.

Second incident. This was at the balcony lounge of the Waiting Room. A very crowded area on top of this bar. Everyone is talking, everything is fine. Until BAM! this one girl just falls over. Just 100% passes out, while she was standing up. I'd never seen anything like it. So everyone is in a general panic now, get the staff, call an ambulance! But then this Mexican kid, Pablo walks up to her and just starts speaking Spanish. And by some crazy stroke of insanity, she gets up starts talking to him in Spanish and doesn't even seem to be drunk any more.

Weird.

Around the World in 80 Days starring Jackie Chan is a terrible movie.

Middle of the Week Blog Update!

I was feeling literate today so I figured why not do a middle of the week update.

And DANGER FREE! I know this will ease at least my parents minds.

I'll do the daily rundown:

For all intents and purposes today began around 2am, thanks to my room's (this country's) lack of air conditioning and certain past incidents forcing me to keep the windows closed(tired is better than robbed), and a mosquito intent on keeping me awake. So I woke up to buzzing and sweat at around 2. Tried to read/sleep for a while, but the mosquito would get to the buzzing every time I laid down. So it came for Operation Nate-i Freedom. I mounted a full-scale offensive by removing myself from my bed, turning on all the lights, and sitting in the corner where I could see all the white walls (and hopefully the mosquito in contrast). I sat for about 30 minutes until the damn thing bit its last bite and I squashed it. The surge was successful.

Regardless of my victories with the mosquito, the heat kept me up until 5. I had 9am Xhosa Tutorial so this was not a good day to be kept up.

Woke up around 8:30 rushed out the door. Remembered the 1000 person Jammie Shuttle queue from last Tuesday, spied the same 1000 person queue for the Jammie Shuttle, and decided to do something I hadn't done yet. Walk to class. It's about 10 minute walk up the mountain. But I got to class with a profound sense of accomplishment for 9am and smelling like sweat.

Xhosa tutorial bugs me to no end. After my awesome professor I have for the lectures. I have the absolute opposite kind of tutor. She's only a second year, younger than me. Doesn't speak the language natively. And teaches things incorrectly, most notably the "q" click. She does it totally wrong. If I've been taking this language for 2 weeks and I can already tell she's doing something 100% incorrectly, she should not be teaching me. So that makes me crazy.

I'm really getting the hold of Xhosa grammar. It's pretty straightforward if you know the rules. Fluid speaking is still to come, the sentence structure is so different I can't really think like a Xhosa speaker yet. But I am starting to understand what people say occasionally, I read some signs, and can write some stuff. We have our first test Thursday, so we'll see if I'm as confident then. The vocab is challenging, but you can usually just throw an "i" or "isi" in front of a misspelled English word and have Xhosa reader understand it. Examples: itren (train), Ndishap(I'm sharp) , isiFrentsch (French language/culture), and I may have posted this earlier but my favorite isiteydiyum (stadium).

Language related side-note: I was recently wondering why I have had such a hard time learning other languages (in my limited experience), the conclusion I came to is this. As an English speaker abroad, asides from immersing yourself for the sake of immersing yourself in a language, there is really very little reason to totally immerse yourself in a language. Everyone can speak English almost everywhere. Though I consciously try to stop myself with my limited other languages (the occasional Spanish, and starting recently my limited Xhosa), my brain defaults to speaking English to everyone knowing they will probably understand me and respond adeptly in English. Makes immersion difficult. But I'm trying.

Next thing for the day was African Instruments. Had our full ensemble class today, played the West African Djembe drum. I still don't have rhythm, but I still love the class. I look forward to the marimba tomorrow, you need less rhythm. I don't have an ear for this percussion stuff at all, I just constantly cheat by watching the people in my group and hit when they do. I guess it's not cheating, but it's not how it should be done.

Next was a cup of Ricoffy. I don't know what that is. But I bought it when trying to buy coffee the other day. It's like instant coffee + chicory. It's okay. But I don't think they sell real coffee at low prices, it's the same with orange juice. You can buy 100% Orange (and other juice) Blend with the top ingredient being (I kid you not) Apple and/or Grape Juice. They do this to save money, I assume its the same thing with Ricoffy.

Then I had Inkanyezi. Went to the township. Got a new, better behaved group. Still with absurdly high expectations for their lives (nuclear scientists, dental technicians, surgeons) and they all plan to go to University next year. I can only imagine that won't happen for many. A little bit heart-breaking. But the workshop we had today (goal setting) was fun. I helped them fill out the forms and they helped me learn some more Xhosa.

When leaving the township, I came to a strange realization. Every other building was a barber or (bar bar) shop. The market is totally over-saturated with haircutters. No wonder these people aren't making any money. Okay that's obviously not the reason (and maybe a little offensive), but it's still very odd to me why 4 neighbors would decide to open up barber shops right next to each other. My friend Aluta said it's the easiest thing to do and there are lots of heads to cut. I guess. If I was this poor, a haircut would not be at my list of to-buys.

After Inkanyezi, I went to what I thought should be Social Soccer Club. When I arrived it was Second Team Trials / Practice. Something I was not going to waste my time with. So a few other Americans and I (really confused why there was no social soccer today) decided to go play some African guys 5v5 in this little 40m cage nearby. Tons of fun. We smoked them. 10-2, 10-7, 5-3. But that's not the important part, the important part is why we smoked them.

As we played these guys, one thought when through my head. It was something my housemate Andreas had told me when we watched Africa Cup of Nations. African footballers never make the smart play. They have pace, strength, and power. But never make the smart play. When I heard him I kind of brushed the thought off and continued to watch Ghana rip shots from 25m out every time it got the chance. But watching these guys play today, it rang so unbelievably true. This is why there are no great African teams. The way soccer is taught here involves lots of dribbling and shooting, but no passing. These guys would always make the same play, dribble up the wing and either A.) cut in one touch and shoot regardless of the situation or B.) trying to out dribble the defender. Never pass back, rarely make a smart cross. Bafana Bafana will not make it out of the group stage in World Cup.

One more small observation people talk here to talk/converse. People in the US talk to be heard. It's a big difference. People here talk really quietly, but everyone understands everything. Americans talk loudly. That's number 1 way to pick them out of a group. That and lack of shitty Euro mullet.

And I can't get used to saying colored. It sounds totally racist to me. But it's 100% acceptable here. I've said that before but will say it again.

Yesterday reached the pinnacle of lazy. I ran 3 miles in the scorching midday African sun. At the end of this I saw the minibus taxi rank. Ran there and rode back home. Too hot for running. I think Lil Wayne was in my taxi.

Few days ago I had a moment of true serendipity. Realized I'd taken many courses about Africa. So I began to wonder is Conn had a minor or something I could take a few classes for. I pulled up the requirements for the major/minor. Turns out I'm only 3 courses away from the major. So I think I'm going to do it and be a International Relations / Africana Studies Major and Anthropology Minor. I'm excited about this.

Well.

Sala Kakuhle! (stay well)

Sobonana! (We'll meet again)

In the infamous words of Ice Cube...

..."I didn't have to use my AK, I gotta say it was a good day"

Quite an accurate description of my weekend...for more than just the good day part.

So Friday my housemates and I decided that Muizenburg (beach with the shark flags[sharks!]) was the place to be. And being the place to be, we had to be there. (Sorry, I'm feeling a little story-teller's block) And in order to be there we had to take a train from our house to there. So we walk down to the Rosebank train station, incident free. Go into the station, to the ticketing booth, buy round-trip tickets. Then are told the train is on the other side of the tracks. Okay, no problems there. But the only way to get to the other side of the tracks is to take the subway. South African subway is not like New York subway. It's literally a sub way. An underground walking tunnel. As we walk down to the subway, we see a sign dictating proper subway etiquette. When I say that I mean it was more a set of pictures of things you cannot bring in the subway. They included: Axes, Bombs, and AK-47s. The fact that someone felt the need to include an assault rifle on a list of things you should not bring somewhere is actually horrifying.

Travel to Muizenburg was largely uneventful. I had a conversation with a South African woman who tried to tell me how bad South African public transport is. This is a sentiment I've heard many times here, and I just don't agree at all. I have never had a problem getting anywhere I wanted to go. Minibuses to the City Centre and Claremont, Trains to the beach, Cabs to Long Street. I don't know if minibuses and cabs count as public transport. Cabs probably not, minibuses maybe. Regardless, it's very easy to get anywhere you want to go for very little money in a fairly reliable way. Round trip for the 45 minute train ride to Muizenburg is 11R = ~$1.50. And the trains run about every 15 minutes. Things aren't that bad here, people like to complain (somethings are universal).

Muizenburg was phenomenal. Tried my hand at surfing. Had to be deceitful to get a nice discount. Said I was part of the UCT surf club and got to rent a board for R50. Lots of fun, but I think the waves were a little too choppy, as opposed to wavy. They didn't crest, so it was difficult to ride them for long. But, I did get up briefly and I will try again. Other highlights of Muizenburg, as always, involved the shark alarms going off as soon as I got out of the water. I live in constant danger.

Went to Long Street for dinner on Friday night. Went to a Kurdish restaurant with a belly dancer and no chairs. That's one way to save money, buy cushions for chairs, but not the chairs themselves. Realized I'd never eaten lamb before, or at least I don't remember eating lamb. It's my new favorite meat and I will eat it whenever given the chance. Did the Long Street thing after dinner, went to my favorite spot... The Waiting Room. That place is top-notch.

Yesterday, went to Camp's Bay beach. It was scorching hot. 92 degrees. No real highlights, I decided I want to do that thing where you jump off a mountain in a chair with a parachute, and fly around a bit. I don't know what it's called, but it looks like a lot of fun.

Other highlights from the week included: dropping South African Politics (it was too awful for words) The man also expected that we had a strong base knowledge on SA politics; for instance before reading the articles I was supposed to just understand that the B.E.E. was a failed initiative. That was just an unrealistic expectation, and the professor was horrible. I think I'm going to go pull the international student card and try to pick up a class this week. Not sure what though, possibly linguistics. I need to look through the course catalog.

This week also marked the beginning of my volunteer work with Inkanyezi. Went to the school today and tried to "wing it." They gave us very little guidance. I think the itinerary looked something like this.

Introduction 10m

Explain the School Commission 10m (what is this??)

Make rules and group contract 20m

I hope they give us more guidance next time. The boys were rowdy. But it was still fun. I spent just about the whole time discussing their favorite South African soccer teams. Mamalodi Sundowns! Woo! When I say discussing I mean I would have to ask them to repeat themselves several times before I got the gist of what they were trying to say. I think they speak English, but aren't confident enough with it to speak loudly so I can understand them. And they have tough names aka names I'm not used to and with the quiet voices, I may have them make name tags for a few weeks. I remember GS, Siphe, and Jacob. The rest, I've got no idea yet. I go back on Tuesday.

Also I played the giant African marimba this week in my instruments class. It was awesome. Played it with 5 other people at one time. My rhythm seems to have improved a little. I could play this at least respectably (aka not the worst of the 6).

My genocides class is awesome. I love it.

Xhosa is a challenge. But I'm getting it. I was excited to be able to read a sign this weekend. It was obviously very simple just said "abantu" -- "people". It was still cool. Have a test on thursday, we'll see how it goes. I'm fairly confident of the basic stuff so far.

This was a pretty lame post. It doesn't at all give me the feel that I've accurately described the great times I had this week/end. It was a fantastic week/end.

Oh yes! One more thing I wanted to write on. Pricing in restaurants. It is not consistent at all with prices on the menu. For instance, yesterday I ordered a beer that was listed as R18, but it came back as R27. Complaints fall on deaf ears here. It's not the African way, I think you are expected to just roll with it. It happens all the time. That was the largest discrepancy I've seen yet. But it's like a dollar.