Eyes To Kaapstad

Country Roads, Take Me Home

2008-06-16T07:14:00.003-04:00

Wish I could say the idea was original, but I thought the best way to sum this up would be in a list, or rather, a series of lists:

Things I will miss about Cape Town:

1.) Looking up at any time of the day and seeing the most unbelievable mountains

2.) Living on not one, but two oceans

3.) My apartment, for all of its shortcomings and wonderful things

4.) Friends that became family

5.) The Upper Liesbeek community

6.) The walk up to campus, believe it or not

7.) The adventure of minibuses

8.) Dialect- "hectic, bru"

9.) Vast array of wonderful food- cheese croissants, liquifruit juice, coke light, samoosas, kudu, springbok, ostrich, rotis, kingklip, hake, biltong

10.) Wine. Enough said.

11.) The reward of always finding something cool and new when you get lost

12.) Ever-changing weather

13.) Being surrounded by multiple languages at any given moment

14.) Power outages that we all came to look forward to

15.) All of the tiny little places that have knotted themselves into my memory with such significance that I know I could never forget them

Things I won't necessarily miss about Cape Town:

1.) Constantly thinking about safety

2.) Lack of bagels

3.) Rain at a moment's notice

4.) Poverty in stark contrast with exorbitant wealth

5.) Exams that are worth 50% of a class grade

6.) Racism

7.) Cockroaches, though I grew to tolerate them

8.) Pay-as-you-go internet and phones (though I really will miss my little Nokia)

Things that I am excited for, being back in the States:

1.) Family

2.) Friends

3.) BAGELS

4.) Coffee

5.) Free internet

6.) Seeing how things have changed since I left 5 months ago

7.) My car

8.) The freedom to have independence

9.) My bed

10.) Picking up where I left off and all of my travels ahead

Things I will bring back from Cape Town:

1.) Various trinkets and curios from shops, vendors, etc.

2.) The knowledge that I have the ability to do anything and go anywhere

3.) Some phrases I've picked up unconsciously along the way

4.) Countless stories

5.) A newfound sense of adventure

6.) New, fantastic music

7.) Lots of change, soon to be exchanged into pounds, which will be a rude awakening

8.) A tolerance and appreciation for the new and different

9.) TIA- flexibility and and unhurried approach to life

10.) A deep desire to go back

Now I'm home, and terribly excited to see all of my family and friends that I have missed so much while I was away. It's a weird feeling, though; as if i had hit a pause button when i left and just now am hitting play to resume the life I had left. I am comforted to see that really not much has changed, and that much is as I left it. Now I will have to reconcile my changed self with these same surroundings, and figure out what the time I spent in Cape Town will come to mean as it all resumes, and I take on yet another adventure with my senior year in college and a fabulous summer ahead of me. The picture above is the sunrise over the city from Rhodes Memorial, nestled into the side of Devil's Peak. The morning I left, we climbed Rhodes just before the day broke to see one last all-encompassing view of Cape Town before we had to leave for good. It's with a heavy heart that I say that leaving Cape Town was terribly difficult, as those months that I spent there came to be some of the best times of my life, and some of the people that I had the privilege of spending time with came to define a large part of that experience, and who I have become.

Back to where we started

2008-06-12T09:31:00.002-04:00

I'm packing up my room, and it's completely surreal. A pile of books on my desk that seems like it goes on forever, a suitcase that I'm not exactly sure how to close, and a fridge that I frankly don't even want to look at. This is the end of my Cape Town experience, knotted with errands like closing my bank account and dropping off my laundry to have it done for one last time before I go. God knows how they fold those close so damn neatly; it's going to make packing a breeze. I had all of these grand plans for my last momentous days on the African continent, and I'm content to say that I've just been content. Nothing too crazy, just trying to spend time with some friends that have become more like family. I did manage to squeeze in the obligatory trip to Robben Island, which proved to be a really great experience. It was momentous to finally see the place that had become such an iconic part of South Africa's recent history. Nelson Mandela's prison cell and Robert Sobukwe's isolated house were two highlights, as they were two really influential leaders of the ANC and PAC, respectively. Also cool- Robben island is one of South Africa's largest penguin colonies! Who knew?!

On Tuesday, I did probably the most American thing I have done since being here and went to a Counting Crows concert. I relived my childhood and sang along to classics like Mr. Jones and A Long December. It was in this really cool venue- a palatial casino about half an hour from city center. I've also been eating at some cool restaurants and trying to eat all of the delicious meals that I loved so much the first time. Unfortunately, I have a cold, so it's been slowing me down only a little. An arsenal of Advil and vitamin C has worked wonders, and now it's been reduced to a nagging cough. I can't wait to see how my final days in Cape Town will end up. I have to say that I'm thrilled to come home to my family and friends, but also really uneasy about how my life is heading for this pretty sudden change. Thankfully, I have so much to look forward to.

Yesterday

2008-06-03T03:45:00.004-04:00

When I haven't been studying, I've devoted this week to other pursuits, scholarly or less. More often less. This past Saturday, I went to perhaps the most fantastic place on this earth- the Woodstock farmers' market. It's this really quaint little market where all of these Capetonian venders and trendy yuppies come to spend their afternoons sampling pesto and bloody marys. Naturally, I had a fantastic time. This past Monday (yesterday) was a really cool day. I took a final for my class Liberation in South Africa, which wasn't so cool, but once that was over, I had a really great day. A couple friends and I headed into the city to spend some time at this really great bookstore called the Book Lounge and then get lunch at one of our favorite restaurants that serves Ethiopian food. While we were at the Book Lounge, we saw this really big protest that was expressing the refugees' discontent with the latest events in South Africa. They would walk by in huge groups, wearing shirts that said "foreigner" and carrying signs that said things like "South Africa is not safe for us." I had never witnessed a protest on that big a scale, and it was a really interesting thing to see. We walked to the Ethiopian restaurant and had a really fantastic lunch, then walked around for a little while and took a minibus home. We went out for a little bar around the corner that night and I proceeded to get stuck in the bathroom, and was saved by a very energetic woman. Naturally, all of my friends found this hilarious. Now I'm sitting in my bed prepping for my next two finals, which are tomorrow and the day after. I can't wait until they're all over and I can enjoy the time I have left here in Cape Town. Here are some photo highlights of my week:

The farmer's market:

Most punctuation-challenged sign I have ever seen, outside my local grocery store:

The view on the walk up to campus this past Sunday afternoon:

You Know, You Need To Slow Down...

2008-05-30T07:13:00.002-04:00

Today's May 30th. I have exactly 15 days until I leave. WHERE did the time go? In all honesty, I'm pretty terrified about leaving- in many ways, it feels as if I have lived here forever, known these people and these places all my life. I can't imagine the shock I'm going to feel when it turns out that this was truly just a break from real life- a quick five month adventure, and now it's time to go home. Don't get me wrong, I'm so excited to see all of my family and friends, but I have a sinking feeling that reverse culture shock will be hitting me where it hurts.

Knowing that I'm leaving in just a few weeks makes me want to savor every moment. Unfortunately, that's tough to do when schoolwork kicks in with the force of a Mack truck. I had three 15 page papers due within 24 hours, and I don't know how I managed to turn them all in, but I did, and now I will begin to study for my 4 exams- each of which will count for 50% of my final class grade. This isn't the best news for an English major who is used to writing papers in lieu of taking tests. Hopefully they will go okay and I will return to the States having passed all of my classes.

There has been a recent outbreak of violence here, due in large part to the influx of refugees from bordering countries like Mozambique and Zimbabwe. There have been many xenophobic riots and acts of violence towards these people mostly in and around Johannesburg, but there have been a few attacks on the outskirts of Cape Town. I am perfectly fine, as the violence is only targeted towards these refugees, who many South Africans fear will come and take away jobs and sustenance in a country that is already feeling the sting of poverty. I haven't really seen any physical manifestations of the outbreaks for myself, but UCT and its organizations have sponsored many anti-xenophobia rallies and protests to try to bring a stop to the violence.

Many of my friends with a significantly lighter work load took this week to travel. They went all along the Drakensbergs, the Wild Coast, and Namibia. It was quiet and a little lonely without them here, but I'm glad that they all had a wonderful time on their adventures. Now, I'm in my bed about to start reading a new book and watching the rain fall outside. It seems like the calm after the storm, during the storm.

In Other News

2008-05-20T13:14:00.003-04:00

Here are some pictures from last week. It was very eventful, as you'll see:

Here I am with some of the kids I tutor in Khayelitscha as a part of SHAWCO.

Aren't they cute?

Caroline and I on Wednesday night, just before I turned 21.

My amazing birthday cake, thanks to Liv.

Jeremy, Paul, and I at my birthday dinner. Looks at what they made me wear!

In other news, I lost my bet. Ian's clean shaven, and today was the most violently rainy day we've seen in Cape Town yet. Thanks, Flyers.

Yay!

2008-05-15T10:12:00.001-04:00

It's my 21st birthday! And I am so lucky to have such great family, friends, and roommates! Thank you, I love you all!

Mozambique, Autumn Sweaters, and Unfortunate Bets

2008-05-10T10:29:00.004-04:00

Cape Town’s getting colder, and rainy. I’ve been enjoying it immensely. Scarves and jackets everywhere. For some stupid reason, my roommate Ian and I have made a bet that might have me at the mercy of the elements this next month and a half. The Flyers, somehow or another, are in the playoffs, and are playing his team, the Pittsburgh Penguins. Our wager is that if the flyers win, Ian can’t shave for the rest of the time we’re here. He’s already got a pretty sophisticated beard now, but in a month he might be verging on Abe Lincoln. If the Penguins win, I have to walk up to campus every day instead of using the ultra-convenient Jammie shuttle. This is going to add about a half hour each way to my daily commute… up the mountain. Oh dear. Flyers lost game one pretty significantly, like they have in the other two post-season series. I hope they know how much I’ve got riding on this. Or not riding, as it were.

Some really cool stuff has happened in my life the past couple of weeks. During my week of holidays, I went to Mozambique and spent a lovely week living in a tiki hut on the beach. It was wonderful. I left on Saturday on an early morning flight to Jo-burg. Turns out I had booked the wrong flight, and spent a harrowing 9 hours in O.R. Tambo airport in Jo-burg, the notorious city, running on less than an hour of sleep. The night before, we had a braai at my apartment and people had finally left by 3am. I had to be out of the house at 4:30, so sleep was out of the question. It was honestly a pretty awful day, but I cheered up when my friends got to Jo-burg. We went to pick up our tickets for the flight into Maputo, Mozambique’s capital, and were more or less surprised to find that the Mozambique national airline, LAM, had totally screwed up our booking. I think we saw it coming from a mile away, when the e-mails they sent us were dated 1980. Omen? You bet. So the next couple of hours were spent running around the airport, looking at rental cars, hotel prices, and standby flights. Fortunately, we all got on that evening’s flight, and I was pleased to finally know which country I would be spending my night in.

The hour flight to Maputo was crowded and tight. A rather tough landing on the tarmac was our first introduction to Mozambique. As we disembarked, we were greeted by the warm tropical air of a vibrant Saturday night. Right away, we felt as if we had landed in another world. The airport was tiny- maybe the smallest I have ever been to- covered in dark, sultry wood and oddly painted windows. We handed our passports to the customs office, and felt uneasy as we waited for a half an hour to get them back. It was okay, though. We have some very cool new visas to show for it. We quickly jumped in a cab and were soon speeding through the streets of Maputo. There was a really apparent kind of electricity about the place- everyone was out in the darkness, talking in the streets. The drive to the hostel was petrifying; I would say we dodged incoming traffic at least five times. But we got there intact, got a quick dinner at a restaurant around the corner, and turned in for bed.

We had to be up at 5am the next morning for our bus ride up to Tofo. No one had slept all too well; blankets are kind of a rare commodity in Mozambique, so we bundled up in copious layers each night to make up for the lack of covers. The bus was jam packed- about 30 people, all of their luggage, and some surf boards thrown in for good measure. We tried to sleep as much as we could on the nine hour trip up the coast, leaning on one another’s shoulders and subsisting on nothing but thin, bland cookies. And lots of Lionel Richie too. Guess the bus driver was a fan.

When we got to Tofo, it was as if we had stepped into paradise.

The sun was shining, it was warm, there were coconut trees and beaches with turquoise water! It was a really amazing place. The backpackers, or tiki hut, more appropriately, that we stayed in was called Fatima’s Nest, and it was literally ten steps away from the beach. We would wake up, have butter and jam sandwiches for breakfast, and hang out on the beach all day. There were lots of fun dogs to play with, and the water was so warm. It was a nice change from the arctic waters surrounding Cape Town.

There was a scuba diving place right down the way from our hostel, as Tofo is a scuba diver’s paradise. A bunch of the girls on our trip were scuba certified, so they got to do a bunch of really cool dives and and see lots of pretty fish. I am not scuba certified, but I did get to go on a whale shark dive. Whale sharks are the biggest fish in the ocean, and Tofo is one of a remarkably few places in the world where they continue to live- they were poached and severely overfished for some time. These things are HUGE- usually around 25 feet in length. And I got to swim right alongside them! It was almost scary to have something that big only a foot away from you, but really thrilling.

We spent five days in Tofo, laying in the sun and having the time of our lives. We took the very same minibus back to Maputo. Thankfully, there wasn’t as much Lionel Richie this time and I managed to sleep pretty much the whole way back. We arrived early, and had the rest of the afternoon to spend exploring Maputo. Mozambique, and Maputo in particular, looked like nothing I have ever seen before. Things were in a state of general dilapidation, and there was a lot of garbage everywhere. It was clear that Mozambique experiences its share of poverty; it was a Portuguese colony up until independence came in the 1970’s, spearheaded by Frelimo. Soviet dictators sent money and weapons to the fledgling government, hence street names like Lenin Avenue. The drive up to Tofo was lined by thatched huts that people had built to live it- these very neatly arranged square buildings. It was cool to see that people actually lived in these places. All of the people that we met were really friendly, and always curious to learn about where we were from. We spent our night in Maputo by going to this really cool fish market. I admittedly was freaked out by seeing the rows and rows of dead fish and crabs, etc. lined up to be sold to you by eager vendors. You pick a fish, tell them how much you want, and then bring it to a restaurant that cooks it for you. It turned out to be one of the most delicious meals I have ever had, and though I'm not sure what I got (soldierfish, maybe?) it was amazing.

It was hard to leave the carefree mindset of vacation and return to Cape Town, and lots of work for class. It was nice to see all of the friends that I had missed while I was away, though. And for the first time, as my plane flew over Table Mountain before landing, I felt as though Cape Town had really become my home.

To everything (turn, turn, turn) there is a season (turn, turn)

2008-04-24T14:13:00.007-04:00

As the leaves begin to turn their autumn hues, these lyrics to that old song by The Byrds come to mind. It's fall here. To think- two falls in one year! Two summers! I'm lucky. What that does also mean is two winters. These Capetonians keep telling me that winters here are pretty miserable, but I don't think they've ever experienced a Nor'easter in rural Pennsylvania farm country. Maybe I'm just resting on my snowy laurels, but I think it should be okay.

I've had kind of a strange week. The cool tinge in the air makes it especially hard to leave my bed in the morning, and classes are decidedly winding towards exam time. I will have three sizeable papers due within a week in May, so I am sure to become well acquainted with the UCT library before I jet back home. All schoolwork will be on hold this coming week as I journey to my next destination in Southern Africa: Mozambique. Not too bad, eh? I look forward to being able to snorkel with sea turtles and all kinds of pretty fish. Sea turtles, sting rays, and whale sharks! Oh my! I will be traveling with the same group of trusty companions, and we're turning into solid backpacking pros now. My parents would be so proud of my newfound packing skills. I'm thrilled to be getting a chance to visit these places that I never dreamed I would see. If you would have told me a year ago that I would visit Namibia and Mozambique, I would probably have questioned your mental state. But I have, or will! I've also seen Botswana from across a fence and landed in Senegal, but I'm not sure if these count, or if they're technicalities. At any rate, I'm soaking up as much of Africa as I can.

I've been homesick this week. Not quite sure why, just hitting some sort of wall, I guess. While I can safely say that I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, I feel stifled by the need to constantly be on the lookout. As we all know, South Africa is not the safest of places, and I am perpetually on my guard. Tragically, a UCT professor was murdered this week as a result of a carjacking. This happens everywhere, sure, but it seems like South Africa in particular is desensitized to these events. I can only hope that South Africa post-apartheid can continue to make amends with its past in order to fix the present. More than anything (except all of you, of course!) I miss the freedoms of having a car and doing things independently. I have pretty much always been an independent person, so learning to rely on others for safety has been a difficult adjustment.

As far as awesome things that I have done this week, I hiked the famed Lion's Head mountain on Sunday for something called sundowners. Lion's Head is a part of the triptych that makes up Table Mountain: jagged Devil's Peak on the left, with the flat plateau that is so recognizably Table occupying the center, and Lion's Head gently curving off on the right, seemingly into the Atlantic.

The hike was not ultra-strenuous, but definitely a hike. There was one point where you had to pull yourself up a series of chains and basically scale the mountain wall to get to the top. It was pretty cool. I say this all too often, but it's always true: the views are spectacular. As the sun sets on your left, the full moon rises on your right, and all of the city is illuminated as the lights come on to greet the evening. Sundowners is a popular event, and every full moon, Lion's Head is full of hikers eager for that incredible view. Below is Ian, Evan, myself, Amy and Josh on the top of Lion's Head with Devil's Peak and the full moon in the background.

A semester spent in South Africa climbing mountains and exploring. I'd say I'm a pretty freaking lucky girl.

Send Ramen!

2008-04-16T12:08:00.002-04:00

I've recently booked a flight to Mozambique for a week's stay there! This is very exciting, as Mozambique is supposed to be gorgeous. Due to some coinciding national holidays, there is essentially a week's break from school starting April 26th, giving study abroad students like myself another fantastic chance to explore. What this new freedom does mean, of course, is a reallocation of funds away from things that were once seen as important- namely food and clothing- towards other things- plane and bus tickets. Packages of ramen and easy mac would be greatly appreciated, as these next couple weeks will be decidedly sparse.

Just in case you forgot:

Christine Mutch

c/o IAPO

3rd Floor Kramer Law Building, Middle Campus

University of Cape Town

Cape Town, Western Cape 7700

Throw away your television

2008-04-13T15:52:00.003-04:00

It has never bothered me that I don't have a television here; it's never seemed important, and in truth, it's very liberating to have less of a reliance on the comforts of the tube. That goes until I cannot watch the final round of the Masters beyond minute internet clips. I was lucky enough to be in a local sports bar that was showing the Thursday round, but beyond that lucky break, I guess I'll have to rely on the good old internet for my updates. I'm hoping for the current leader Trevor Immelman to win. He's South African!

When you're not distracted by CNN or Man vs Wild reruns, you find some pretty amazing stuff to do. This past weekend has been one of my favorites here, so far. Friday night was spent at a popular local restaurant/bar called Mama Africa, where I had some really good Zimbabwean chicken dish in a peanut butter sauce. Delicious. I mean, peanut butter?! How could it not be? Mama Africa is also well known for its live music. The night we went, there was a marimba band playing, which sounded really cool. Think "Under the Sea" in The Little Mermaid.

Saturday, yesterday, was a ridiculous day. It's not often that you get to pet cheetahs and go on wine tastings within the same afternoon. We went to Spier vineyards in Stellenbosch, about a half an hour outside of town. It's the most idyllic place- manicured rows of vines in patches of differing greens, sitting lazily on low and rolling hills. Spier was immaculate- the complex was designed around a lake full of swans, and there was plenty of open grass to picnic and relax on.

We first went to the cheetah preserve on the premises, which was founded as a means of protecting cheetahs and educating people about them. I got to pet Enigma, a three-year old male cheetah who was pretty sleepy and adorable. Evan, Josh, and Amy pet the 11-month-old cheetah cubs, which was about the cutest thing I think I've ever seen.

After visiting the cheetahs we went to Spier's deli and bought some deli stuff to make sandwiches with. I had been missing a proper deli sandwich, and I have to say it was one of my favorite lunches to date. The scenery was beautiful, and the weather could not have been more conducive to a relaxed afternoon spent outside. We did a tasting of Spier's wines after lunch and reveled in the fact that 10 rand buys a tasting of Spier's select wines. I have to say it wasn't my favorite wine, but I wasn't complaining as I sat underneath the shady veranda, glass in hand.

I felt sleepy on the short trip home, and ended up having a relaxed night in my apartment, reading a great book called A City Imagined. The book is a series of essays written by authors, poets, actors, professors, and other people who have lived in Cape Town. It's amazing to read an essay and to know the places that the author mentions, having been there and knowing its implications. The topics of the essays are as different as the authors writing them, ranging from an essay on Main Road, the oldest road in Cape Town and the one I live on, to getting lost in the Newlands forest at the base of Table Mountain, to performing in the local theatre. The coolest thing about it is that the editor of the book is actually lecturing in my literature class this week, so I can't wait to hear what he has to say about it.

This morning, I awoke to a knock at my door around 10am. My friends Evan and Paul were waiting outside my door, backpacks at the ready, coming to get me for a hike in Kalk Bay. We took the train to Kalk Bay, one of the series of towns along the beaches of False Bay. If I were to live in Cape Town for the rest of my life, I would live in an earthy wooden house in the hills above Kalk Bay. Primarily for its laid-back and bohemian approach to life, but also for its breathtaking views of the Indian Ocean, this little alcove has become one of our favorite places in the whole of Cape Town. Paul, Evan, our friend Lydia and I explored the mountains behind the town, following a very well marked hiking trail that led to a type of ampitheatre amidst rocky outcrops at the top.

The crazy thing is, once you reach a certain elevation, the condensed clouds become difficult to see though, and you hike through a cool, incredible haziness. We came across this little sitting area on our way up, surrounded by mossy vines.

It was a breathtaking hike, and I'm so glad to have gone, especially after my relatively lazy day at Spier the day before.

In With the New

2008-04-06T07:05:00.004-04:00

I hope the new layout isn't too confusing. The theme of my week seems to be out with the old and in with the new. This past Friday, my friend Caroline and I went to the mall down the street and decided to get haircuts. We couldn't decide whether or not we wanted to get our hair cut really short, and so, we flipped a coin. Heads, it's short. Tails, just a trim. It landed on heads. What do you think?

Safari + Julia= Fantastic Easter Vac

2008-04-06T05:17:00.007-04:00

They call Spring Break Easter Vac here, which is cute, if not a little reminiscent of a pastel-colored vacuum. It seemed like everyone had a great trip planned; a big group of my friends went on safari in Kruger National Park (about the size of Israel, if you can imagine), another big group did an agency-sponsored trip up to the Ocavango (sp?) Delta in Botswana, hitting up Zambia and bungee jumping off of Victoria Falls as well. Cool, no? For my vacation, I was thrilled to have my Aunt Julia and KT, her friend and co-worker come visit me here all the way in Africa. For the first leg of our trip, I flew from Cape Town to Jo-burg to meet them both at the airport and spend a night in Jo-burg (eek!) before taking off in a little plane for Madikwe Game preserve up in the Northwest province of South Africa, literally across a fence from Botswana. The one-hour or so ride in the twelve seater plane was a lot of fun, if a little intense at times, and when we landed on the red dirt runway, I felt like I was in another world. We were promptly greeted by khaki-clad safari rangers, driving impressive Land Rover combi things, and they took us to our lodge.

The Madikwe Safari Lodge, where we spent the next four days, might be my favorite place on earth. The staff was overwhelmingly nice and helpful, the food was inspirational, and the lodge itself was breathtaking. Each guest had their own house kind of thing, each equipped with a swimming pool, indoor and outdoor showers, and really anything else you could ever want or need. Not really roughing it at all, we enjoyed the bushveld immensely.

Every morning we woke up at 5:30 to go on the day's first game drive. We hauled ourselves out of bed, a feat made easier by the promise of coffee, and climbed into the combi for a morning look at nature's glory. For some reason, our morning drives were not as stellar as our

evening drives, which we took from about 4pm to 8pm. We always did manage to see something, though, thanks to our fantastic and adorable guide Greg. Over the four days we were there, we saw lions, elephants, rhino, giraffes, hippos, impala, wildebeest, kudu, springbok, gennets, monkeys, and many exciting and rare animals. That does not, in fact, include the foot long millipede that Greg made me hold. He said I needed to get over my fear of bugs.

I'll let the pictures that I post do most of the explaining for me- we got really, really close to the animals. Often, just a couple feet away. They often posed for us, too.

My most favorite afternoon was our last one. A really great family from Australia was on our safari with us, and they had two adorable boys, ages 6 and 4. Marcus and Liam were really great little boys who loved doing all of the little boy things, like collecting bugs and driving through mud puddles. Greg willingly did all of this, as I am convinced that he is a perpetual little boy himself. He decided to take us fishing on his afternoon off, so he grabbed some fishing poles, put them in the combi, and picked us up from the lodge. The little boys were clearly thrilled about the prospects of fishing and having to catch grasshoppers for bait. When we got to the fishing hole (which was actually outside of the reserve), we were greeted by some guests who were already enjoying the spot.

Five hippos were lazing around in our fishing hole! We let them be, not really wanting to take our chances with Africa's most dangerous animal. No fishing, but still a great afternoon.

The next day we said a sad goodbye to Madikwe and made our way back to the mother city- Cape Town. It was nice to come to the city and have it feel like a home. The hotel that we stayed in was right in the middle of town, which made it really easy to get around. We went to Cape Point, Stellenbosch, Hermanus, and all around Cape Town. It was really fun to show KT and Julia around a place where I had been living. We ate well, as all of the restaurants around town are really great, and enjoyed spectacular weather (besides the strong wind that prevented KT from abseiling down Table Mountain, sadly). It was a blast having them both here, and I sincerely hope they enjoyed South Africa as much as I do.

Now that vac is over, it's schoolwork, schoolwork, and more schoolwork. There is a little chill in the air, and it seems like Fall is right around the corner. Maybe the cooler temperatures will keep me from going to the beach when I should be studying, which may or may not be a good thing, depending on how you look at it.

Eskom, Come On!

2008-03-18T13:16:00.002-04:00

Ah, yes. The darkened classrooms and non-functional traffic lights mean only one thing. Load shedding has come back with a vengeance. And just when I had started to take electricity for granted!

Molweni

2008-03-16T08:12:00.004-04:00

'Molweni' is Xhosa for "hello everyone." It's one of a handful of various Xhosa phrases that I am learning in my time volunteering to tutor third graders as a part of the program SHAWCO. It's a really cool program that's been around for around 40 years, even in the darkest days of apartheid. It's a way for UCT students like myself to learn how a great number of South Africans live. SHAWCO seeks to offer educational and medical services, among other things, to many of Cape Town's townships. Out of the various projects and locations available, that range from teaching high schoolers about the environment to forming a cricket league, I have chosen to tutor third graders in math and english in Khayelitsha on Wednesday afternoons.

Khayelitsha means "new town" in Xhosa, and was formed as a direct result of the land reform acts that separated Cape Town and South Africa into racially arranged allotments. The black townships like Khayelitsha were placed on some of the most poorly resourced land, receiving little or no help from the South African government. White and coloured townships were granted more, showing apartheid's destructive race bias. It is easy to see. White South Africa lives in nicely furnished apartments and homes like mine, with indoor plumbing and electricity. Coloured townships like Bonteheuwel and Kensington are impoverished, but have houses built on solid foundations; some made of bricks and stucco, others with fenced-in and nicely maintained lawns. Khayelitsha, Langa, Nyanga, and other black townships consists of houses and shops made from corrugated aluminum, tin, and particle board. The houses are like brightly colored tin dominos, leaning so heavily on one another to the point that if one fell, many would follow. Running water is rare, men piss on the street, and dogs are everywhere. I don't mean to romanticize or demonize this place, where 1.2 million Capetonians make their homes. It's just what I see out of the big windows of the converted tour bus that SHAWCO uses to bring its volunteers into places like Mannenberg and Khayelitsha. I would never get to see this place any other way. There are thing like township tours where groups of tourists walk through the townships and gawk at the abject poverty and give the kids sweets, but I haven't reconciled myself with the idea of poverty as a tourist attraction.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about Khayelitsha is how content its residents are. Maybe content isn't the word- I don't know. This is where their families are. Yes, there is crime. This is the neighborhood they have grown up in, in the midst of AIDS and its crushing destructiveness. I see red ribbons painted on walls covered over and again with graffiti, and there is beauty and danger in everything here. Cell phone stores are built up within the metal huts and grocery counters sit with a certain poise upon rotting wood.

The bus drops me off in front of the SHAWCO building, where kids are running playfully and greeting me with huge and curious smiles. They're in their uniforms from school, and I wonder at how they can wear the thick wool sweaters in the late summer heat. I have volunteered to work with a third grade class, and I walk into the common room where the children have been waiting for our arrival. Since my kids are young, their English is thin at best, but I am fortunate to have been paired with a girl named Cynthia, a first year at UCT, who is fluent in Zulu, which shares much in common with Xhosa. We've had a couple really funny moments when something means one thing in Zulu, and another in Xhosa, and all of the kids giggle because Cynthia has said something like "pee" inadvertently. There are about fourteen kids in our class, roughly half boys and half girls. As usual, I have bonded with the boys before the girls. There is Buhle, Wanda, Lundi, Sinethemba, Sinesepo, Khayefelang, Linda, and others. I love Sinesepo's name; it means "we have hope." He's a crazy little boy, who does all of the little boy things. He's really smart and blows me away every lesson. I would love to get some pictures of them, they're all really adorable and affectionate. They have me laughing pretty much the entire lesson. I find myself wanting to go outside and play with them instead of doing subtraction. At the end of our lesson last time, Cynthia had them sing the South African national anthem, and I thought I was going to die for the cuteness. Thanks to the almighty Wikipedia, here are the lyrics. The first verse is Xhosa, the second is Zulu, the third is Afrikaans, and the fourth is English.

Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo, Yizwa imithandazo yethu, Nkosi sikelela, thina lusapho lwayo.
Morena boloka setjhaba sa heso, O fedise dintwa la matshwenyeho, O se boloke, O se boloke setjhaba sa heso, Setjhaba sa South Afrika - South Afrika.
Uit die blou van onse hemel, Uit die diepte van ons see, Oor ons ewige gebergtes, Waar die kranse antwoord gee,

Sounds the call to come together, And united we shall stand, Let us live and strive for freedom,

In South Africa our land.

And a translation?

Lord, bless Africa Banish wars and strife Lord, bless our nation Of South Africa.

Ringing out from our blue heavens From our deep seas breaking round Over everlasting mountains Where the echoing crags resound ...

Time to Move On, Time to Get Going

2008-03-11T13:21:00.003-04:00

Nothing beats a road trip. Open roads, open windows, and open bags of chips in rental cars are universal signs of freedom and serendipitous travel. That's why I was so excited to take a massive road trip to Namibia from Thursday to Monday. Eighteen hours each way, mostly through desert and mountains in one of the least densely populated countries in the world. We left on Thursday afternoon, eight girls among which were three Lehigh-ers, and drove six hours to a town about an hour south of the South Africa/ Namibia border called Springbok. We spent the night there in the Cat Nap Inn, probably the most bizarre hostel I have ever seen. The beds were cots bolted and chained to the wall. Comforting? No. Comfortable? Surprisingly.

We left around 7am the next morning for what was to be a 12 hour drive to Swakopmund, a town on the coast of Namibia. This was a really great drive that went surprisingly fast. We had some good music that helped to pass the time, as well as some amazing scenery. There were honestly times when I couldn't breathe because the sunset, mountain ranges, and landscapes were so intensely beautiful.

Swakopmund is a really cute town of German-style architecture. I think it might be the largest German population outside of Germany, actually. Weird. For all of the beautiful buildings and sand dunes, this city was a total ghost town. There was no one there. In fact, I think the 7 girls and I doubled the population of Swakopmund when we showed up. Our hostel there was called the Desert Sky, and reminded me a little of the Fairy Knowe hostel that we had stayed in on the Garden Route. We all crammed into two small rooms and avoided duck poop. The owners kept these two funny looking ducks as pets, and they pooped everywhere, as ducks will do.

We crashed early after our long drive and woke up early the next morning to go sand boarding. Just outside of city limits are these huge sand dunes, and you can strap on a snowboard and sand board down them. It was really fun, but really hard work. Every time you board down, you turn right around and climb the 250ft dune. It was hot and tiring, but really fun too. We went to the beach afterwards to rest our aching muscles and we instantly learned, while lying on the beach, the fascination that Namibian men have for American women. We were pretty uncomfortable and made a quick exit to a seafood dinner, followed by a trip to the local hangout where a video of our sandboarding adventure was played. It was funny to see how stupid we all looked and we had a great time laughing at our various wipeouts.

The next morning we searched around for a good breakfast place, and again discovered what a quiet town Swakopmund really was. We were the only ones walking around, and it was almost a little bizarre. After a little fiasco at the ATM where one of my trip-mates Lindsay had her ATM card stolen, we grabbed lunch along the beach where we had relaxed the day before. After a nice huge burger, we went shopping on a strip of vendors not far from the beach. I was surprised at how up-front and resilient the vendors were. One actually followed me to the car, trying to sell me baboon candlesticks!

That afternoon was taken up by a 6-hour drive back to a bed-and-breakfast in a town called Mariental. It was a lovely place, with the most comfortable beds and bathtubs. I think I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, which never happens. We woke up at 5:15 the next morning for our leg back to Cape Town; another 12 hour ride. Snacks and girl talk coaxed us through this last leg of our journey and back home to our little flats in the southern suburbs of Cape Town. I got home and felt an immediate sense of relief to be out of a car and back to my room; my personal space. It was also nice to see my roommates, and Olivia made us a lovely pasta dinner to come home to.

Matt informed me when I got home that he would soon be leaving Cape Town for good, and while I am disappointed, I honestly think I would choose to do the same thing in the wake of the accident and surgeries, along with all of the other medical care necessary. We had a braai for him tonight so that everyone could get chance to say goodbye, and I realized just how much I really am going to miss him here in our apartment and for the rest of our stay here in Cape Town.

Music Across Townships, and Some Other Random Items of Note

2008-03-04T06:49:00.002-05:00

For starters, those are my roommates top left. Ian and Matt respectively. That's just after climbing Table. Top right is my room in 10 Kendal. Bland, I know. But I love it. Bottom left are Fran, myself, Olivia, and Brittany at a club called Tiger Tiger. The wonderful Sophie took the picture. Bottom right is a pickup soccer match in Ocean View, a township about an hour's drive from Cape Town. I just really like that picture. I think this kind of shows you the diverse things we've been able to do here; hiking, going out, and learning about the people of this country. This past weekend we did this really awesome tour called Striking Common Chords, where we visited two townships, one coloured (this is where I explain that coloured is not a derogatory term here, but in fact what ethnically mixed- race people are called. They are also called Cape Malays, and many descend from slaves that were brought to South Africa during the Dutch slave trade) and one black. Apartheid was screwed up for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was the segregation of different races into what are called townships. Like with like, if you get the idea. Many people were forcibly removed from their homes and onto small, poorly resourced tracks of land. Coloured townships were given slightly better treatment than black townships, and the effects of this appalling system are still all too apparent. It's weird to think that the fancy, upscale mall down the road from me was build on top of people's bulldozed homes. The coloured township we visited was Q-town, in an area called Bonteheuwel. We were brought to a relatively large schoolroom where a group of older men sat on chairs before us and told us about the music that defined their culture- Goemba. It's music that's very specific to Cape Town, and has a big creole influence. Imagine guitars, banjos, drums, and a chorus of young men singing old slave hymns- the songs of their forefathers, as they called them. It was incredible. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love music, so having the chance to hear and then participate in making this music was incredibly fun for me. We sang a song about the Alibama, a slave ship, in Afrikaans. After some time in Q-town, we headed over to the black township Langa, where a man named Dizu welcomed us into his home. He's a really successful musician who has made a career out of performing the traditional African instruments and preserving the traditions of his ancestors. We got to play drums and listen to some of the coolest, most interesting music I have ever heard. Dizu's mother played two really interesting ancient string instruments, one of which is supposed to be played naked. They also sang in Xhosa, a beautiful language that is spoken widely over the Western Cape. It's a language that's really musical, and full of clicks. My favorite instrument that Dizu and his group played was the Mbira, a tiny little iron instrument from Zimbabwe that has little keys like a piano. I would love to learn how to play it. After spending the afternoon with Dizu and eating a delicious dinner cooked by his extremely pregnant wife, we went back over to Q-town for a parade around the streets. I could have honestly done without it, but it was really evident that a lot of the kids of the neighborhood were having a really good time, and really liked to ask us for our umbrellas that we were given to parade with. I gave mine away to a couple of adorable little children, who I hope have enjoyed it.

Some things I've noticed:

- It's really common not to wear shoes here.

- Civil rights issues are still and will continue to be a big issue. For those who have read about the events in the University of the Free State, you know that race relations are not yet

mended.

- Common ways to greet a person are "Howzit?" and "Is it?"

- Springbok, Kudu, and I assume other kinds of antelope, are delicious. Same goes for ostrich.

Feta cheese is hugely popular, not quite sure why.

- Construction, roadwork, and really anything else gets done really slowly. Cape Town is

infamous for its laid-back attitude.

Back to School?

2008-03-03T08:54:00.004-05:00

School here, or "varsity," as they call it, has many similarities to college in the states. Some differences, too. Make that a lot of differences. I'm taking 4 classes- Modernism, African Language and Literature, Liberation in Southern Africa, and Africa: Making of a Continent to 1800. I think I will like all of my classes. It's been really hard to get back into school mode, though. The freedom I have had up until school has been amazing. While it's nice to have some kind of routine, the many papers and readings I am doing at the moment are hardly a day on the beach. At least my campus is unbelievably gorgeous, nestled right into the side of Table Mountain. I start at either 8 or 9am pretty much every day, and am finished by 1pm most days. Pretty ideal. Especially considering that the Cape Doctor, the pleasant wind that has served to cut the heat has somehow now vanished and campus can feel like the blinding surface of the sun. It's been great to meet some more South Africans in my classes. I mean, isn't that why I'm here? I've come to the realization that it's time to start pinching pennies, but the food on campus is making that pretty difficult. My favorite is this little Indian food cart in the bottom floor of one of the buildings where I have class. Lots of veggies and curry; really, really delicious. Cheese croissants are also a daily staple. To combat this horrible obsession, I have joined the local gym.

Cape Town has started to feel more like home now that I have begun classes, which makes me really happy. I feel more confident here. There have been some pretty serious safety concerns, however, and those have recently played a major part in my life on Upper Liesbeek road. Cape Town as a city and South Africa as a whole are generally pretty unsafe places. The whole Apartheid thing has made some big rifts among people so gang warfare is common, as is unemployment (a 40% unemployment rate, if you can imagine) and domestic violence. I say this not to scare anyone, and not because I am particularly scared, but rather because I am experience for the first time what it is like to have safety concerns on my mind constantly. It's a shift in paradigm for a girl from Pennsylvania farmland. This week, my friend and roommate Matt was hit by a car on his way to campus. Today marks exactly a week that he has been in the hospital. I've really admired his determination through his injuries- a shattered tibia, broken ankle, fractured maxilla and chipped teeth. Things took a frightening turn when a pulmonary embolism, presumably fat from bone marrow that was released during surgery, ended up putting Matt in the ICU for a couple days. I am happy to say that his parents are here with him now and he will be perfectly fine. My other roommate Ian and I have been visiting him in the hospital as much as we could over the past week, along with our program director Ouma. All of our friends have been wonderful with going to visit and taking good care of him. I'm really happy that he's begun to recover and Kendal 10 will see him back soon.

Garden Route: Volumes 2,3,4,5, etc.

2008-03-03T08:24:00.003-05:00

Okay, change of plans. Here's a freeze-dried version of the duration of the Garden Route:

Knysna- Trust me when I tell you it was ridiculous, and I have no need to ever go back. Cute town, albeit rather commercial. Also, populated by a couple of fascinating individuals who prey on traveling girls in their twenties and exploit the notion of a free drink. Tony and Charlie, namely. There were speedos and near bar fights involved, and we won't go into that. If you want further details, we'll email. Oh, and there was a nice lagoon.

Plettenberg Bay- Anything would have been nice after Knysna and the Island Vibe hostel that we stayed in there, smelling of gasoline and kids who drank too much. Nothando, the backpackers we stayed in while in Plett was clean and suburban and far removed from old men with bad intentions. There were comfortable beds, fresh towels, and a great sushi restaurant nearby. Felt a little like central New Jersey. More quaint, though. We went to a couple of preserves while in Plett called Monkeyland (guess what you can find there) and Birds of Eden. Both were fun and really worthwhile. Monkeys are hilarious and well trained at stealing food. There were some obnoxious German tourists who found it appropriate to smoke in the midst of Monkeyland. Geez. Monkeys have lungs, too. We left Plett rather sadly, as we knew it would be our last real outpost of civilization before we headed on to our final stop, Stormsriver. We got some groceries, some box wine, and said goodbye to the comfy sheets of Nothando.

Stormsriver- Goodbye Nothando, hello Tube n' Axe. That was the name of the backpackers we stayed in while in Stormsriver. Picture mid-twenties, dreadlocked vagabonds with a pension for, as my mother calls it "smoking the ganja." These are the people who run the Tube n' Axe. With names like Monty and Bushy and Leon, what could one expect of them? Hate to say I was a bit of a grandma and passed out early, due in part to that box wine. From the stories I heard the next morning, I missed a good time. Stormsriver is a tiny little outpost in the Tsisikamma National Park. Driving into the park, also the portal to the province of the Eastern Cape, was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Valleys and hills and rivers and canyons and bridges. Bridges to jump from, as it were. And so I did. I, along with 9 of my compatriots, jumped off of the highest bungee jump in the ENTIRE WORLD. Yes. THE WORLD. I made sure to get not only the pictures, but also the DVD of my jump, just for you nonbelievers. It was the scariest thing I've ever done. Basically, they walk you out to the middle of the bridge, call out your number, bind your feet up and clip some kind of harness somewhere, and walk you to the edge. Your toes hang off of the edge slightly as they give you a count of "5,4,3,2,1, BUNGEE!" and then you jump. You have to. For all intensive purposes, they push you. My stomach was all out of sorts for about the next 24 hours. Glad I did it for the bragging rights, but I don't really need to do it again. You should do it, if you ever get the chance. Back to the Tube n' Axe and some more (surprise!) obnoxious German tourists, one of whom was drunk and asked us if we were slaves. Um. No. Another, presumably slave woman's lover, but in reality her husband's friend (red flag, anyone?) showed us the Chicago LP he had just acquired. Congrats, German dude. Early bed again for me. Lame, I know. I woke up to a long day on the Baz Bus, about 9 hours total. We ended up having to leave Ian and Isaac in Mossel Bay for a night due to a glitch in the booking, and they had a very interesting journey back the next day. The rest of us got home that same night and went straight to bed, ready for the first day of classes bright and early the next morning.

Sorry

2008-02-27T14:15:00.001-05:00

Been a very, very rough couple of days. I came for an education, and I'm getting it.

The Garden Route: A Journey For The Books, Volume I "A Vigorous Kloof"

2008-02-21T09:17:00.007-05:00

We arrive in Wilderness a little sweaty, but no worse for the wear. If you ever come to South Africa, do not expect air conditioning. If you ever ride the Baz Bus, open the window and stick your head out. The hostel that we stayed in at Wilderness (that's the actual town's name- isn't it funny?) was called Fairy Knowe and was RIDICULOUS. It's owned by a woman named Monica, and it's a series of colonial houses from the 1800's with hardwood floors and thatched roofs. The bar (every hostel has one, alcohol is big money) is a tiki hut, manned by a rather effeminate Brazilian in his mid-twenties.

I went for a run (read here "casual jog") with Alex and did a little exploring of Wilderness. It's a cute little place. We ended up in some dude's backyard and he yelled at us. Sorry, man. Back to Fairy Knowe. Olivia and I took outdoor showers, Monica cooked us a delicious dinner, and we roasted marshmallows around a campfire with some Englishmen and a couple of Germans. They were fascinated by the concept of a s'more. Maybe because the only marshmallows we had were passion fruit flavored.

For all of those who Skype called me that night, you know I went to bed really early. The beds were so comfortable, and I was mildly freaked out by a beetle that I saw in the hallway and wanted to forget about it, so I went to bed. It was a huge, crunchy brown beetle right out of the Lion King. You know, the scene where Timon and Pumba eat bugs? Just like that, except in the hallway right outside of my room. I've been making a lot of Lion King comparisons lately. I wish I had a picture of that damn beetle.

The next morning we woke up to a fabulous breakfast by Monica and put on our bathing suits in preparation for kloofing. What is kloofing, you ask? Singularly the greatest outdoor sport ever invented. EVER. Think of a river with a lot of boulders and cliffs. Throw in the occasional waterfall. Put on a wetsuit. Swim through that river, climb over the boulders, and float down the waterfalls. That's kloofing, an Afrikaans word that means something similar to canyoning. Kloofing was the best time ever. You’ll notice, if you look at the picture above, that there’s only one guy with us besides Paul. That’s Isaac, there in the white in the center. Poor Isaac had a difficult kloof. He lost his shoes, lost his glasses, and was wearing a miserably tight wetsuit. Poor Isaac. He was a good sport.

Paul, our guide, was great. He was clearly annoyed by our loud and girly Americanness, but I think he secretly enjoyed it. Maybe not, though, because at one point he decided to throw rocks at giant old trees along the river that were filled with bee metropolises. Thanks, Paul. Olivia and Erin got stung on he head and the rest of us dived into the water for cover. I think Paul himself got stung a couple times. Kloofing jerk.

After kloofing, we removed our wetsuits and gratefully ate some cookies provided to us by the kloofing company. We stopped at one of the two ATM’s in Wilderness, paid Paul his due, and headed back to Fairy Knowe to gather up our things and catch the Baz Bus to Knysna (nys-na). Oh God. Knysna. Wait until you hear about Knysna.

The Garden Route: A Journey For The Books

2008-02-17T05:52:00.000-05:00

You might have been wondering where I’ve been. Delinquent on the blog posts, I know, but I promise to write with some regularity now that my life has some semblance of, well, regularity. This past week, I’ve been backpacking across the garden route, which is a series of little towns along South Africa’s southern coastline. It was an incredible time for a multitude of reasons. Lots of firsts, lots of food, lots of interesting people. It might take me a couple posts to chronicle, but I’ll do my best. Let’s start at the beginning. Sometime last week, in the midst of a ubiquitous iced coffee at Cocoa Wahwah, I was talking to a group of girls on my program about what to do in the last week before classes start. It has been so much fun exploring Cape Town, but we were all in agreement that it would be fun to see some more of the country. Lindsay and Erin, two brave and fabulous girls on my program, planned a trip along the garden route. They took care of everything from transportation to hostels to activities that we could do along the way. It sounded awesome, so Olivia, Brittany, and I decided to jump right in. We went to STA Travel and booked our tickets on the Baz Bus, which is South Africa’s backpacker bus. It was pretty inexpensive and easy to book, so that was good. I’m a big fan of the Baz Bus. Fast forward a couple of days. I pack up my little carry-on suitcase and throw some granola bars in a bag. It’s about 7am and my roommate Ian and I head out into the early morning, ready for our backpacking adventure. We meet up with the rest of the Upper Liesbeek crew and head over to the hostel where we are to meet the Baz Bus. Between the Upper Liesbeek and Osborne Road groups, we were 13 people all together. It was a lot of people to travel together, but it ended up working out really well. We waited at a hostel in the Observatory neighborhood for about 45 minutes before the Baz Bus arrived. We really had no idea of what to expect. The bus rolled up with a little trailer behind for our luggage, and our excited driver Sam popped out and helped us throw all of our giant bags in the back. The Baz Bus is colorful and well run. It seats about 20 people and goes door-to-door, bringing travelers to most of the backpackers (hostels) along South Africa’s coast, even venturing into Kruger and Mozambique. We pile in and Jackie, our resident hippie, pops in some awesome reggae. We’re off to Wilderness, the first town on our epic journey. We hit four towns in total- Wilderness, Knysna, Plettenberg Bay, and Storms’ River- with some interesting pit stops on the way. I figure the most logical and relatively obnoxious way to chronicle them will be in installments. Epic.

Blackouts

2008-02-05T04:13:00.000-05:00

I don’t know how well it’s been publicized in the States, but there’s been something of a power crisis here. In order to conserve power, the South African government has decided to instate two-hour intervals of cut power. There’s a schedule of when they are, and they can last anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours, depending. It seems that this still isn’t enough. On Friday, power cut off at about 9pm and came on around 4am. This blackout wasn’t planned, and it’s got a lot of people thinking that there is worse to come.

At 9pm on Friday, I was getting ready to go to dinner and just finishing my makeup. That was the day we climbed Table Mountain, so no one wanted to cook. The lights flickered twice, and then everything cut off. It’s interesting how you come to rely on certain things; constant power, constant water, clean clothes. It’s also interesting how a person responds when forced to do without these things. I never really thought about the importance of power before, and how life must go on in the midst of non-functional traffic lights and refrigerators.

As I walked out the door, still adventurous and hungry enough to catch a cab into town for dinner, the city was quiet and eerie. The stars were bright and poignant in the absence of street lamps. Shops closed, and people took to the streets. We felt a sense of danger in the pervading helplessness; what, in realistic terms, could be done? We ate dinner in a candlelit cafe in the suburb Observatory. While content with our intimate experience in this small restaurant, we waited with a kind of impatience for the return of light, and thus, security.

Dinner finished without a hitch, thanks to a talented and resilient waitress, and we walked to a street corner to wait for a cab to take us home. Traffic was crawling. With the loss of traffic lights, there was no regulation, and no one was forced to stop. We stood, watching these cars go by, looking at each one with a wish that it had come to take us back to our apartments. As our cab finally turned around a corner, our exasperated driver Al shook his head in disbelief. He felt a sense of helplessness similar to and perhaps worse than ours. As the outage shut down factories and interfered with manufacturing, with vendors, with municipalities and homes, it affected Al’s livelihood and his ability to provide for his family. But what could he do? What could anyone do but accept the situation as a lesson in resilience and forge ahead with life as usual?

A planned blackout occurred yesterday around 3:30pm, as I was putting my clothes into a dryer in a laundromat down the street. As the lights went out, I placed my soggy clothes into a plastic bag they offered me. I trudged home with a load twice as heavy as the one I came with, watching the steady stream of cars crawling past blank traffic lights. I hung my things on hangers and self-fashioned clotheslines across my apartment and balcony, hoping that they would dry in time and not blow away. They remain wet, waving in the breeze that comes off the mountain. I know they’ll smell fresh when they’re dry, and I’ll feel a sense of accomplishment, if not ingenuity. I also know that my inconveniences, however grand they may seem, are slight in comparison to those who are sent home from work early, or cannot buy food for their families because all of the stores have closed.

With the World Cup looming ahead in 2010, South Africa stands to gain so much. But as she struggles to rise to the challenges set forth, her weaknesses begin to show. It will be interesting to see how the power crisis will be addressed by the government, if it is at all. Will FIFA choose another location, thus taking from South Africa a huge opportunity for income and positive publicity, which she needs so desperately in the midst of her growing pains? I look to how the country’s people demonstrate their adaptability, ever hopeful for a tomorrow that is full of light.

Mountains, Oceans, Divisions

2008-02-03T18:17:00.002-05:00

While many of my American friends search for a bar in South Africa that's broadcasting the Super Bowl, I'm sitting in my bed. Quite tired. Head spinning. I've been so busy.

The past three or four days have been a whirlwind. It's pretty hard to remember what was when and where, I've been all over the city and beyond. On Thursday, we went to the District 6 Museum, which is a museum in downtown Cape Town that tells the story of some 60,000 people who were forced from their homes in the District 6 neighborhood in Cape Town into planned slums as a result of apartheid city planning legislation. Honestly, it was a really difficult concept for me to wrap my head around. You got to see these pictures of people who had lived in these homes all of their lives, only to be forced out for the color of their skin. The homes were supposed to be demolished for new high rises and residential complexes, but they never were. They stay there today, deserted, as a kind of national monument, nestled under Table Mountain.

Speaking of Table Mountain, I climbed it.

Yep. Climbed it.

On Friday, our entire Interstudy group scaled Table Mountain. All 60 of us, some sorority girls, some plump hippies from UVM, some relatively out-of-shape Columbia beatniks, climbed the mountain. We started out in what's called the Constantia Nek, a trail that begins in a little wine suburb not far from where I live. From there, it was all upwards. There were beautiful views the whole way, and there were intervals that were pretty strenuous, but we all made it. On our way up, we got to swim in a dam that is actually Cape Town's water supply (they're all drinking my sunscreen right now) and it was really cool because the water looked really dark and blue until you got close, when it became apparent that it was actually a deep red color. It was the coolest looking thing. I don't know why it was red; something about copper deposits. Eh. Nature's mysteries, I guess. It was really cool, once reaching the summit, to be able to see all of the Western Cape. Table Mountain is, after all, the highest point in Cape Town, a city of mountains. Walking down was treachery. You walked down a hollowed down gorge on ledges and cliffs that were about 3 feet thick. A misstep and you would fall thousands of feet. What's worse, the path was made of small boulders and rocks. Walking directly downhill for hours and hours on boulders and ledges is painful and scary, but a cool thing to be able to say you have done. I'm all for adventurousness. When it is followed by lots of sleep and a warm shower, that is.

The day after summiting Table, we went to the Two Oceans Aquarium (this is for you, Julie). I hadn't been to an aquarium in years and years, and I forgot how cool they were. This one was especially awesome, because it's a lot of fish that were caught locally. Weird to think, since there's not much more that trout and the occasional crawfish in the roaring springs of Nazareth, PA. Really wanted to see a Great White, since they are very, very common in False Bay, but no such luck. Guess they're a little big for the aquarium shark tank. It was kind of a lazy day, since my legs were still screaming from the hike the day before. That was good, though, I think.

Today, Sunday, was an awesome day. I was skeptical, since it was our first day of IAPO orientation, which is the international student orientation that UCT does. There were a good amount of us, perhaps 400, and they took us all to the Cape of Good Hope. We went in tour busses, which I was initially not very happy about, but it was nice to look at things in a fresh and more touristy perspective, because tours are really good about history and events and things like that. The drive down through Hout Bay was the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. I feel like I say that every day about something. Mountains and mountains above a misty green ocean; it looked like what I imagine New Zealand must look like.

We stopped midday at a little shanty town called Ocean View, which is a coloured (it's an actual term here for a race) town on the suburbs of the city. It is clear that the town understood poverty, and as the tour busses pulled through, children chased them in excitement. We were served pretty traditional barbecue food in a big gymnasium type of place, and a bunch of the local kids came in and performed for us. One girl sang Celine Dion and Shania Twain, while smaller kids break danced and the crowd of international students cheered them on. It was clear that they were really excited for us to be there. Everyone had a really good time.

On to Cape Point, we passed a bunch of desolate fields where fynbos bushes had been set to burn. We passed literally acres and acres of scorched earth. It is also a great habitat for baboons, which I was dying to see. Only one short glimpse of two lazy baboons. Apparently they're fierce and very dangerous, breaking into people's homes and stealing their food. The people who live there have to put bars on their windows just so that the baboons don't break in!

Cape Point was pretty cool. Beautiful, just like the rest of the country I have seen so far. It was cool to think that I was standing on the southern-most tip of a continent, with the next closest land mass being Antarctica. It's also the spot where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet. I'd like to go there again, next time without 400 Americans, and maybe just spend a day hanging out and looking at the ocean. Hopefully seeing a couple baboons, if I'm lucky.

There Will Be Penguins

2008-01-30T10:46:00.002-05:00

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

2008-01-26T14:31:00.001-05:00

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

2008-01-26T13:07:00.001-05:00

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.

Here it Comes

2008-01-24T19:19:00.000-05:00

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

2008-01-17T13:59:00.000-05:00

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

2008-01-09T11:43:00.000-05:00

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.