There Will Be Penguins

I have found my new place. An internet café in Rondebosch, about 5 minutes from my house. It’s called CocoWawa, and I have a feeling I will be spending a lot of time here during the semester. We all know how I love caffeine.

The weather is warm and sunny, as usual. I have a feeling I will be spoiled with warm temperatures and sunshine before long. It’s also very windy, which cuts the heat nicely.  At night, windows slam shut from the intense wind coming down off of the mountain. I can’t wait for my first rainstorm here; I bet it’s going to be awesome. 

Let’s see, the past couple days.  Lots of beaches. On Sunday, we went to Camp’s Bay, which is a trendy beach with lots of clubs and fancy restaurants. It was really windy, and as I walked out into the ocean on some rocks, I braced myself so as not to fall off.  Sunburned and sandy, as per usual, we took a crazy cab ride up to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, where a summer concert was just getting under way. It was so beautiful there, right towards the top of the mountain.  The music was hilarious, some kind of German band singing Billy Joel covers. Whatever. It was fun to sit on the grass and listen to music.  We walked back, a good hour and a half, and made a group dinner from all of the various items that we had picked up in our trips to the grocery store. My roommate Matt is an excellent cook, which is good, since I’ve got grilled cheese down and that’s about it.  I’m lucky to have met a group of friends that has been pretty awesome so far. Everyone comes from very different backgrounds and has traveled a lot.

Monday was a get-stuff-done kind of day. I finally set up my bank account and went shopping with Sophie in Cavendish, a trendy and expensive mall nearby. It was nice to go shopping, I’ve felt underdressed since I’ve been here.  Capetonians are an attractive people who know how to dress. We had another community dinner that night. Pasta with sausage. Delicious.  We went to a hostel on Long Street that night and it was a lot of fun to meet people from all over the world just traveling to travel.  We drank Heineken and Windhoek (a Namibian beer) on a porch overlooking Long Street.

Yesterday was Matt’s 21^st birthday, so naturally, we went to Simon’s Town, the famed home of a colony of about 3,000 African penguins. At first, it was really touristy and full of old people with binoculars and fanny packs gazing off of wooden boardwalks. Not quite what we had in mind.  A little ways back was an isolated cove that seemed pretty empty. We set up camp there and were then greeted by a bunch of penguins. We made friends with them, hung out, and had a photo shoot. If you look at my pictures, you’ll see that I went a little bit overboard with penguin pictures. But hey, I was excited to swim with penguins.  And I think you would be, too. 

My Pictures

This is where I'm going to be posting all of my pictures. Bookmark it!!!!

 

http://gallery.mac.com/cmutch

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You

I'm beginning to feel more at home here in Cape Town.  At first, I wondered what the hell I was thinking. Now, I feel better. The past two days have been amazing and so beautiful. As you probably figured out by the sunburn story of the previous post, the sun here is ridiculously powerful and all of us pasty Americans have to slather their pasty skin in sunscreen. The weather changes in the blink of an eye; a large storm has rolled in off of the mountain in the past 20 minutes and looks as though it might be violent.  The weather all day has been beautiful and hot, a perfect day for the V&A waterfront. 

More on that later.

Yesterday, a group of us took the train to Muizenberg beach.  

The train is a fascinating and racially charged experience. It's what the majority of the city's black population uses for transportation through the suburbs because it's relatively cheap- 5.50 rand (less than one American dollar) for the half-hour ride.  There are different classes for different fares, and some cars are dangerous and known for theft and mugging.  One has to be pretty discerning when traveling around the city. There are three major ways to travel without walking, which I normally do. Why not? It's beautiful and a really great way to learn the city. Anyway, the three major modes of transportation are the train, taxis, and minibus taxis. Taxis and minibus taxis are NOT the same thing. A taxi is like a normal metered cab. To go into the city is usually about a hundred rand or so on one of these, about fifteen American dollars.  A minibus taxi is a lot cheaper, about 4.50 rand to get to the further suburbs. They are usually full to the brim and will whistle to you as they drive by. It was pretty unnerving at first to be whistled at all the time, but now it's actually kind of funny. I should also mention that they drive at about 90 mph. Not exaggerating.  

Muizenberg was unbelievable. It was my first time seeing the Indian ocean, and I was really excited.  The water was a really pretty bluish green color, and the strip we were on was notorious for sharks.  After a couple minutes sitting at Muizenberg, the sand started pelting us as the wind whipped up, and a local told us to head down the road towards St. James and Kalk Bay. Little did we know this would be a  two-mile walk, in which I probably broke about three South African laws. We crossed the train tracks like vagrant hobos at one point, and even jumped off the moving train! Who knew I'd be such a rebel when I got here? I didn't mind the walk because I got to stare at the mountain the entire time, with these incredible trees mansions built on its slopes. I can't imagine waking up to a view of the Indian ocean every morning, with the mountains as a backdrop behind. It's my new retirement plan. 

After walking a little longer, we came to Kalk Bay, a really bohemian and relaxed suburb in towards False Bay.  We ate at what might be my favorite restaurant of all time, called the Brass Rail. We ate the best calamari and fish and chips make with hake, a meaty white fish.  The walls of the restaurant were made of glass, so the big waves would come and splash up against it, only inches from you. Really cool. We lied on the beach for a couple of hours, fat and happy as the sun started to get that mid-August look and began to set. Only, it's January. January is summer- it's so weird! We took the train back, tired and sunburned. I came back to my apartment, showered and crashed on my bed for a half an hour. I've gotten an average of four hours of sleep per night, and I'm beginning to feel the effects. For dinner, my friends Bart and Evan cooked pasta and tomato sauce. Little did they know that tomato sauce is actually ketchup.  Pasta with ketchup is not delicious. 

We decided to go to a club for a little while and get a couple drinks. Two hours later, we're at Tin Roof, a local favorite in Rondebosch, drinking and dancing to mid-nineties classics like Smash Mouth and Blink 182. They love our music from the mid to late nineties, which was hilarious and so much fun for us Americans.  It was a great night, and I came back and slept soundly.   

Today was spent buying groceries and apartment necessities, and then visiting the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront in the middle of the city. It's a beautiful, albeit tourist-ridden spot.  There are street performers, lots of restaurants, and souvenir shops.  We ate a late lunch/ early dinner at a restaurant called Quay 4 which I think might be pretty famous. Wasn't as good as the Brass Bell. We walked around a while and then took the craziest cab I have ever been in back to Mowbray, where I now sit on my bed and blog before maybe hitting up a bar or just calling it a day. 

Here it Comes

It is now Thursday, January 25th, and I have lived for two days in Cape Town, South Africa. In that time, I have decided that my blog will be completely uncensored, true to experience, and honest. I've also decided that wine is delicious, and I am going to school in the most gorgeous place in the world. Pictures to come.  

So, let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Monday, January 21st was a stressful and sad day, as I finished up some packing and said goodbye to my family and friends. My Mom and I drove to the airport (Kennedy, for those who are curious) and set aside plenty of time in case of typical New York traffic. All went well, and I arrived very early.  There were a bunch of kids from my program waiting in the airport already, so I got a chance to meet some of the people on my flight, which was comforting.  The flight itself went really well; it was an initial 8 hours across the Atlantic to Dakar, Senegal.  On this leg of the flight, I was fortunate to sit next to a really awesome, fascinating girl from Senegal who now goes to school in Canada. For those of you who have seen Fight Club, she was by far the best "single serving friend" I have ever had the pleasure of sitting next to on a plane.   The plane was big; about seven seats across, and there were little consoles for each chair with a choice of games, movies, and TV shows.  My new friend and I shared food, watched movies, and laughed at the funny little airline packs of bright orange socks that we were given.  As she got off in Dakar, it was just sunrise.  We landed in pre-dawn, among a beautiful and swollen moon giving a startling, magnificent reflection over the Atlantic. 

I wanted to get off the plane at the tiny airport and stretch my legs; perhaps granting me the ability to say that I have been in Senegal. I had now at least touched on African soil.. a fact that made me both exhilarated and terrified.  An hour on the plane spent reloading and refueling prepared us for a 9 hour flight from Dakar to Johannesburg, South Africa. The people on the plane were fascinating. I was sitting behind a family of Hasidic Jews who read and practiced before every meal we were served. I wish I knew more about their religion, a lot of the customs seemed older than time, and were completely foreign to me. On this leg of the flight, I sat next to a black man in a white pinstripe suit and a black cap. He seemed very nice, and seemed to speak little English, only saying "thanks" when the stewardess would come by. I noticed my initial discomfort when I found out he was sitting next to me, and I felt embarrassed of my quickness to judge.  

This flight also seemed to go by very quickly. We were fed often, some meals more questionable than others.  Oh, airplane food. 

Landing in Johannesburg was thrilling. As the plane touched down, I knew that my life was forever about to change. I did not realize how quickly that would happen. 

Plane lands smoothly. Everyone stands. Single file out, as usual. Nothing strange here, just a walk I have made thousands of times before. Now up the ramp to the gate, as whitewashed tile boast and gleams. It seems lovely and new, at first. Further in, to baggage, to customs, to the gate.  My baggage came quickly, and I was relieved to have my friend Evan with me as I hauled my bright orange suitcase off of the baggage claim, in the midst of scaffolding, construction, and tarps. You see, as you continued down the hall, the airport lost more and more of its methodical glint and took on a hot, sweaty, crowded feel of a market.  Once you have your luggage, you head towards customs, where your bags are lightly screened, and you are instantaneously swept away by airport attendants looking for tips. Nothing new, but a lot more in-your-face.  Off to the terminal. But, where is it? Outside and through a parking garage.  You'll wander around like a lost and helpless ex-pat for a good twenty minutes before it becomes clear.  The white tiles return, and you find your gate; a little unnerved, but no worse for the wear. 

Hello, Africa. Nice to meet you. 

A quick flight from Jo-burg to Cape Town seemed interminable.  I couldn't wait to get there. When we finally did, my baggage came right off of the plane, I felt the warm breeze, and all was well.  We made it to our flats. I live in 10 Kendal Court, with a sophomore from Villanova named Ian and a junior from Colgate named Matt. I could not be more excited to live with guys. I feel safer, and it's easier than living with girls. Our apartment is an interesting amalgamation of finished and unfinished; of granite countertops and cockroaches.  We have an amazing view of Table Mountain. I'm going to love waking up to that huge, HUGE mountain.  It's got a life of it's own, and living right on the foot of it, the weather's always changing.  Must say I'm sporting a nice, awkward sunburn in the shape of a v on my chest. So much for my cheap Hanes t-shirts. my first morning here, Matt and I took a quick walk around the suburb of Mowbray where we live.  A quick note, Cape Town is divided into what are known as "the suburbs" once you get to the south of the city, where University of Cape Town is located. My flat is on the corner of Mowbray and Rosebank. I live in a neighborhood mixed between locals and Interstudy students.  If you go to the left into Mowbray, it is less wealthy than the suburbs going towards Rosebank. As you go further, you really feel like you are pretty much in the United States. In some ways, that is what has become the most bizarre to me. In one minute, you are in a posh plaza, and in the next, you are being begged for money. We are constantly reminded about safety and vigilance. In one sense, it's frightening. In another, it's just the way of life in the city- most any city.  I think it will be the push I need to become street smart and educated in the ways of the world. The rich- poor divide is apparent and glaring. What is interesting, though, is how intermingled it is. Apartheid's effects are still resonating a scant twelve years after its abolishment, and Cape Town is a city that celebrates the difficulties it has in the present moment. 

More to come later, but now it it nearly 4am and I am tired. 

Packing My Suitcase

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Monday.

I leave this Monday, January 21st, 2008. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. How apropos!

So I figure, with a precious few days left in this hemisphere, that I should begin to pack for my trip:

1.) Sweatshirt (make it two; they're bulky, but they'll remind me of home.)

2.) Jeans (for hiking, general every day things, and traveling. High mileage. Five pairs.)

3.) Bathing suit (if I choose to be brave and surf with the Great Whites.)

4.) Raincoat (winters are rainy and foggy.)

5.) Shoes (sneakers, sandals, and hiking boots. Sadly, my purple ballet flats will stay home.)

6.) My iPod ( the UTMOST necessity. I don't think I'd survive the flight without it.)

7.) Books (Clan of the Cave Bear, Love in the Time of Cholera, and many others since there   will be no television in my house. It's refreshing.)

8.) Sunscreen, bug repellent, band aids, and other necessities (Boy Scout motto.)

9.) iBook G4 (so I can e-mail and blog, of course! A camera is an important addendum.)

10.) An open mind (and a heavy heart; sad to leave but ecstatic for what is to come.)

Looking at everything laid out on my bed, and strewn across my floor, I realize that I want to pack all of my friends in my suitcase more than any shirt or dress.  These past few weeks, I have had such an amazing time with all of my friends, new and old, coming out and making time to wish me well on my trip.  

Last Monday, Apple pretty much took over Brew Works in an impromptu bon voyage party, and I realized what a wonderful and caring group I was privileged to work with.  Thanks for the dollar, Pipe! I'll let you know when it comes into use! 

My last day at the Alumni Association was filled with cake and sad goodbyes.  Monica's safari animal cake was so great; I wish I had pictures to show. LUAA has accepted me with open arms, and I will miss Jill's wooden nickel mantra and Linda's unmistakeable 9:30am "where are we going for lunch?"

As I head into the weekend, it's beginning to hit me that the hardest goodbyes of all are yet to come. I wonder what my parting words will be as I kiss my family and tote my luggage into bustling JFK. I'm sure my mother will yell something out of the car window about photocopies of credit cards, passports, and immunizations. I'll act like I'm annoyed, even if I am secretly thankful for her foresight.  I wonder how I will leave my best friends; people who have really shaped me in the most defining years of my life thus far.  They're all going on journeys of their own, and I can't wait to hear about them.  

      

The American Dream

      Driving into Philadelphia on an unseasonal (even freakish) warm day, I note the thick grey layer of salt on my windshield.  The weather is a welcome change; I've always hated winter.  I put my sun roof down, long for my sunglasses, and delve into the new Interpol CD that I recently purchased. Yes, that's right, purchased. Guess you could call me a conscientious Apple employee.

 Life is good. Better than it's been in a long time. In fact, better than it's ever been. Two fantastic jobs with boundless opportunities coupled with a chance to study debt-free at one of the nation's premier institutions sounds like a delicious recipe for the American dream. I'm a lucky girl. I have friends who love me and a close-knit family.  Two dogs, a nice car, and a closet full of designer clothes.  I am young, healthy (despite some relatively crippling carbohydrate and caffeine addictions), and poised for success. The "real world" has yet to take its sharpened teeth to my pale skin, as I hang in the beautiful and surreal equilibrium that belongs to a life in its twenties.  

So, why would I want to leave?

      

Why on earth would I head to a country with a painful history, marred by racism, violence, and hatred? Why would I want to pack a couple scant suitcases and head to a place that is gripped by quite possibly the worst pandemic in world history?

To tell the truth, I don't know. Well, maybe I do know a little bit. South Africa, Rainbow Nation, nation of Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu has a lot to teach a naive and trusting girl cradled in American consumerism. Everyone seems to question it: 

       "Why do you want to go there? Isn't it dangerous?"

       "Don't get AIDS!"  

       "What can you learn there that you can't learn here?"

Granted, all questions I asked myself months ago, when I was making the weighty decision on where to live six months of my precious college career.  Some, in fact, most of the questions I have fielded have been based on legitimate concerns. I try to answer, to make them understand. I try to convince myself at the same time that this is the right thing to do, and things have been falling into place so smoothly, so why would it stop now? 

I've reasoned that there are some aspects of my desire to go to South Africa that cannot be reasoned.  I just want it.  What's wrong with that? An overwhelming passion in the midst of grinding work schedules and twenty-page papers. A dream that wakes me in the middle of the night in excitement and fear. A constant force propelling me forward in the face of blinding tiredness. It's hard to articulate a dream and make it understandable to others, but it's easier to show through action.

I intend to show that I want my world to be wider than my closet, and my view broader than the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I want to act on the strongest passion I've ever felt, and understand the kernel of fear that lies at its center. I want to take a journey and discover, while I am young and unattached, the freedom of letting go of what matters now to find what ultimately matters most.  

Now, if I could only get off the Schuylkill.