So... It's Been a While

Time is absolutely FLYING here. The weather, the stars, my housemates, the beach, the mountains, the exchange rate, the restaurants, the people, the city—I feel so incredibly lucky to be in the middle of all this. I have a month’s worth of things to tell, but I’ll try my best to do so concisely and chronologically (ish).

Semester at Sea comes to South Africa

The Semester at Sea Explorer, a ship that carries 750 American students (including Max Slutsky and Jessica Katlin) around the world, docked in Cape Town on February 18. Max stayed with me for a couple of nights, and in true Max fashion, clicked quickly and well with all of my housemates. My program got all of us tickets to see a rugby game, so Max came along to that—it was a drastically different experience than the soccer game, where most members of the crowd are black and spend the majority of the game blowing giant horns. The crowd at rugby, on the other hand, is mostly white and boringly laid back, unless you count those spectators who spend most of their time watching from the pub in the stadium.

I also took Max out to experience Cape Townian nightlife on Long Street, where he had a late-night encounter with a Hebrew-speaking falafel salesman from Tel Aviv. Max was happy to have a chance to speak Hebrew, and I was sad because every time I tried to say something in Hebrew, Spanish came out. Oh well. The falafel was fabulous, and we returned again the next night for round 2.

Max and I also hit up the Jewish museum, dined and shopped at the Greenmarket (sadly they don’t sell vegetables here… only African crafts), and wandered around the touristy but lovely waterfront.

Birthday

Since I last wrote, I achieved a major life milestone: turning 21. I love my birthday because it is the time during which I generally get to force people to sing karaoke and/or participate in a theme party. South Africa did not let me down. The night before my birthday, I went out to a low-key bar in a neighborhood called Observatory (Obs for short) where I received a midnight phone call from my dad, a happy birthday serenade and several free drinks. On my way out, I noticed the place next door had karaoke Wednedsays. This was a life highlight. I got to bypass the line, heard another round of the Happy Birthday song (this time via an accordion instrumental) and performed Like a Prayer for a bar full of people who probably hated me for a) skipping the line and b) subjecting them to my singing.

With my karaoke needs fulfilled, Thursday night could be all about the theme. We decided on hats/creative head gear. By 10 or so, my house was full with lots of people whose heads were decorated with things ranging from police helmets to turbans to buckets to bunny ears. I was really touched by all of the nice things my friends did for me after knowing me for just a month—I got a homemade Mexican feast, a tank top reading “Good Girl Gone Bad” (not sure about the accuracy of this statement, but I ended up wearing it over my dress for the duration of the party), flowers, an amazing birthday book and a homemade, ridiculously delicious ice cream cake. The people I’ve met here thus far are truly phenomenal people.






Classes

I’m academically homesick. I miss the smallness of the classes at Barnard and the content of the discussions. My classes are pretty big here, and for the most part, I don’t feel very stimulated by the lectures. I do like my literature seminar, which focuses on Black Consciousness writing in South Africa in the 60’s and 70’s. The good part about having big lectures that feel skippable is that sometimes you can skip them and spend the afternoon hiking or cooking or napping. Today, for example, I skipped my afternoon film class with the intention of hiking Table Mountain, something I can’t believe I haven’t done yet. Sadly, due to high winds and poor visibility, this plan is no longer in action. Plan B involves spending tonight (St. Patrick’s day) at Dubliners, an Irish pub on Long Street.

I wish I liked my classes more, but the thing about being abroad here is that I feel like I’m constantly learning whenever I go out. Even if it’s going out for the night on Long Street, the racial and social dynamics are always observable, interesting and complex. I really enjoy talking to people about their political beliefs (the elections are coming up at the end of April).

PASSOP

My most valuable learning experience so far has been volunteering for an organization called Passop (people against suffering suppression oppression and poverty—long, wordy acronym, but the word “Passop” means “beware” in Afrikaans. I’m not really sure why they chose “beware,” but oh well). The organization works primarily (but not exclusively) with refugees from Zimbabwe who come to South Africa because the situation in Zim is so dire. There are many Zimbabweans in and around Cape Town. The immigration/refugee laws in South Africa are pretty progressive, but the Department of Home Affairs is extremely poorly run and often corrupt. People have to wait in line for days to get their papers, and throughout the process, there’s a ton of red tape to cut through. Many refugees end up being mugged in line and/or are forced to return to work because they run out of money after days of waiting and/or become subject to fines they can’t afford. Because of the inefficiency of the system, many people cannot get their papers and end up being deported to an unstable country currently in crisis.

Passop was launched a few years ago by a guy named Braam who is a ridiculous person—completely ADD, 24 years old and basically single-handedly making a huge difference in the life of Zimbabwean refugees. He met with a lawyer to review the 1998 Immigration Act which essentially says that anyone attempting to apply for asylum cannot be deported. So, he organized 5 branches in various neighborhoods/townships that are each lead by a local Zimbabwean refugee—those branch leaders collect names of the refugees who are having issues getting their papers, and then Braam sends those refugees letters citing the Immigration Act that they then present to the police if there is a threat that they’ll be deported. It works! If you’re interested in reading the letter, let me know and I’ll forward a copy.

But there is much more than letter-writing. Braam is basically the contact person for any refugee having any sort of problem. Last week I was at the office (which is run out of his mom’s beautiful home in the suburbs) when two women showed up. They came in, sat on his couch and explained how they had stood in line to submit an appeal (I guess they had initially been rejected—apparently this happens a lot and most people have to appeal before getting papers) for 3 days but were eventually forced to go back to the farm where they’d been working because they ran out of money. When they returned a few months later, they were told they waited too long to appeal and that they would have to pay 2500 rand ($250) in order to have their applications considered. These women make 250 rand ($25) a week. They didn’t know what to do. So Braam, joined by another intern, drove them to some sort of immigration court, explained the situation (they know they were late for submitting an appeal but they had tried before…. They make 250 a week and cannot pay the fine in full…etc.) and the judge waived the fee entirely. Braam says having white people explain your situation always seems to help—disturbing that this is the case.

Passop also works to facilitate a sense of community among Zimbabwean refugees. Last Saturday, they organized a memorial service for Susan Tsvangirai, the wife of Zimbabwe’s prime minister who was recently killed in a car crash. We (the 6 or so interns) worked at the service and then Braam took some of us to a township called Masiphulele where we had lunch with members of the local Passop branch. A lot of fun was had by all—I attempted to learn a few words in Shona (language spoke in Zimbabwe) and enjoyed some pap, a mashed-potato-y looking substance made from ground maize and a staple of the diet in Masiphulele. It’s often used in place of a knife-and-fork to collect the meat on the plate. I got made fun of for both my Shona and my pap-eating. I’m hoping to improve.

The consistent opinion among the Zimbaweans I’ve spoke to so far is that they can’t wait to return to their country…it’s just not realistic at this point. I’m really happy to have this opportunity to travel to townships and meet the people who live there. It’s easy to stay in the Cape Town restaurant/beach/campus bubble so I’m grateful to be involved with something that has already been eye-opening and meaningful.

My main task with Passop will be filming, creating and editing videos of events, as well as interviewing refugees and putting their stories on film. At the end, I’m hoping to make a short documentary. I’m really excited about it, except that Braam lent out the video camera to someone else and hasn’t gotten it back yet. TIA, as they say. (This is Africa).

Home Stay

CIEE arranged for all 150 of us to stay with families in a coloured township called Ocean View last weekend— along with another girl from CIEE, I stayed with a couple that had a 4 year old daughter and 9 year old son. They were very nice, but spoke in Afrikaans most of the time and didn’t seem all that interested in talking to us. We spent Saturday at the beach in Fish Hook, where I played in the waves with my host sister, and Sunday watching Cape Town’s famous 120 km cycling race (one of the cyclists was Matt Damon!). It was really interesting to spend an extended period of time in Ocean View—drugs are a big problem, but are being combated by things like street soccer (“anything to take away boredom,” according to my host mom), which we got the chance to watch for a little on Friday night.

On Saturday night, a 10 year old boy was hit and killed by a car. The reaction was very disturbing to me—everyone in the township found out pretty quickly but no one seemed to be as devastated as I had imagined—apparently things like this are not all that rare in Ocean View. I guess the ambulance took 30 minutes to get there and by the time it arrived, he had already died. Quinton, my program director, told me that in any richer and/or whiter neighborhoods right around Ocean View, the ambulance would have been there within 5 minutes.

A Few More Tidbits…

I’ve been in kind of a stay in and cook/bond/watch 30 Rock with my roomies mood this week, but in general, I’ve had so much fun exploring the city and attending various events, such as the fabulous Cape Town Gay Pride festival and a South African performance of Beauty and the Beast. I walked around Bo-Kaap, a mostly Muslim neighborhood with beautifully colored houses. I continue to be amazed by the breadth and diversity of the communities that exist here.



I can’t wait to explore more… this weekend I’m going river rafting and the next sky diving (If I don’t get scared and back out). My spring break plans are finalized—7 of us are going to a little country called Lesotho where we’ll ride on horses and camp for a few days. Then we had to Johannesburg for a day and night were we’ll attend a seder. After Joburg, we go to Victoria Falls (in Zambia) for a few days of adventure. Then I’ll come back to Cape Town to meet my parents! So much to look forward to…

Thanks for reading.

The Garden Route

In my high school health class, we completed “Life Lists” in which we documented anything and everything we wanted to accomplish during our time on earth. In the past week, I’ve been able to check off #8 (see an elephant), #26 (drive on the other side of the road), #47 (take photos of nature) and #2, vicariously (bungee jump). It’s been a pretty eventful week.

To celebrate our last week before the start of classes, three friends and I rented a car and road tripped along the Garden Route, which took us along the spectacularly scenic southern coast of Africa. The driving itself was great fun, and I only drove on the wrong side of the road once (don’t worry Dad, I’m alive).



We spent the first evening in a (stationary) train/hostel on the beach in Mossel Bay. These accommodations were not exactly luxurious, but they were kind of hilarious. Our train car, lined with bunk beds on either side, was called “The Dorm,” and also provided shelter for a middle-aged Dutch man as well as some other CIEE kids trekking along the coast. Mossel Bay activities included some sea kayaking, swimming in the Indian Ocean, and celebrating a friend’s 21st with some delicious Italian food and wine on the beach.



The next morning, we headed east so the rest of my car could partake in a Garden Route favorite: the highest bungee jump in the world. Although joining them would have meant crossing off #2 on my life list, I couldn’t quite bring myself to jump. But I did get to watch them via live video feed from the bar, where I enjoyed a cider and hung out with several other groups from CIEE who were there as well.

After the jumpers did their jumping, we headed to Tsitsikamma and participated in a 2 hour zip line tour of the forest. Our DVD from the tour accurately documents the distinct mixture of fear and joy I experienced as I glided across cables 100 feet above the ground.

After ziplining, we headed to Plettenberg Bay where we checked into the Amakaya hostel. For $10 a night, this place was a steal. One of the owners, a handsome young man named Donald, drove us to his favorite restaurant for dinner and ended up staying out with us. We were also able to steal the CD that was playing in his car (up until that point we had been music-less) which we recently learned was actually Now That’s What I Call Music: 50 (yes, there are 50). After dinner, we met up with a few friends at our lovely hostel bar. I partook in a cultural exchange with the other hostel owner, in which I gave him a $2 bill to hang up at his bar and he shared with me his beliefs about affirmative action.

Sidenote: This idea that “reverse racism” is the real social problem seems to be a popular sentiment among many of the white South Africans I met along the way—several people said that because of Black Economic Empowerment, black candidates are almost always hired over their white counterparts, regardless of qualifications. When I asked Leroy, the hostel owner, what he thought should be done to compensate for so many years of oppression, he said, “It’s been 14 years (since the end of Apartheid). People need to move on.”

So after our night at Amakaya, we headed to Knysna, where we played with elephants in the rain. Very muddy, and very amazing. That night, we stayed at a place that I can only describe as majestic. We slept in a cabin surrounded by horses, monkeys (supposedly) and endless stretches of green. $10/person, by the way. One of the hostel owners, Jen, cooked us dinner and we enjoyed the last night of the road trip feasting in her lovely vegetarian kitchen.



It was a wonderful few days, followed by a great weekend in Cape Town. On Friday, I started classes---Applied Ethics, African Literature, African Film and African Instruments (hopefully). On Saturday, I spent the day at the beautiful Camps Bay beach and today we all had lunch at this township party sponsored by a Jack Daniels museum truck (this would take too long to explain in detail). The weekend before our departure, I had the chance to take in a soccer game, in which we were the only white attendees-- it seems that soccer draws in mostly black crowds while rugby attracts the white folk. The next day was spent picnicing in the beautiful Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. I made hummus.

Overall, life is beautiful… my housemates are clicking well, the weather is 80 degrees and sunny every day and the most expensive meal I’ve had yet cost me about100 rand (10 dollars). This country really has everything—the politics are fascinating, the racial dynamics are constantly evolving, the scenery is breathtaking and the city is exciting. I feel so lucky to be living and learning here.

Introductory Novel

I’ve been putting off writing my first blog post because I wanted to wait until I could post a video of a South African toilet flushing counter-clockwise. Several of you expressed a deep interest in this topic.

I believed it my duty (pun intended) to expose you to this south-of-the-equator bathroom phenomenon, but, sadly, it would take way too many megabytes to upload—South African internet is paid for by the amount of megabytes used, not minutes. Still don’t fully understand how this works, but thought I should hold off on uploading toilet video until I know how much it would cost to do so.

Anyway. Cape Town…

(Disclaimer: Although I tried really hard to keep it concise, this entry ended up being really long. I’ve created sub-topic headlines in case you want to pick-and-choose.)

The Flight: Thanks to the help of my dad and seatguru.com, I had the best seats possible on my British Airways flights. With the exception of spending 20 minutes watching the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 (which works as effectively as Ambien) and 90 minutes watching Vicky Christina Barcelona, I slept soundly during both flights (7 hours to London and 12 to Cape Town). My layover in London allowed me just enough time to see Morgan’s apartment and neighborhood.

The Greeting: At baggage claim, I met about 8 other CIEE kids who had been on my flight. We were greeted with highly enthusiastic cheers and applause from a group of SOLmates (SOL stands for student orientation leader). The SOLmates are students (mostly chemical engineers, which in South Africa, FYI, does not generally connote social awkwardness) at UCT, ranging from undergrads to law students to advanced chemical engineers.

CIEE Orientation: The first 3 days and nights were spent at the Garden Court Hotel in Cape Town. These days were full of orientation talks and repetitive getting-to-know-you conversations (not my favorite thing). There are 150+ students on my program , so there were always new people to engage with and talk to during these first few busy days. Although the days were packed with orientation meetings within the walls of the hotel, night time activities often included SOLmate-lead excursions to the bars on Long Street. Unfortunately, our days generally began around 8 AM so I was averaging around 4-5 hours of sleep a night. I’m still catching up…

We also got a chance to see the UCT campus (kind of looks like the beautiful love child of Columbia University and Boulder) and hear about potential service opportunities. CIEE makes it really easy for us—tomorrow, we’re going on a tour of some of the sites we can volunteer at. I’m deciding between two options: teaching writing twice a week at a school in a nearby township or working with a group that’s addressing the inhumane treatment of refugees in South Africa. I’ll keep you posted.

Housing: On the third day of orientation, we moved into our housing. CIEE students either live in off-campus houses, the dorms or do a home stay. I opted for the house option, along with most other students. My house is actually 2 houses, one with 11 people and one with 9, and each has its own SOLmate. The houses are really close together and we share a lovey lawn and terrace area so it definitely feels like one big happy house. I’m writing to you from my lawn right now, which is scattered with housemates busy tanning, playing guitar and saving a frog found in some lettuce at the ShopRite down the street. We decided housing/rooms by lottery and I picked the highest number possible… in order to compensate, I’ve been stealing things from the living room, like fans and back scratchers. It’s only fair.

Our houses are beautiful… I have a spacious single room and look out at a breathtaking view. I’m in a house with 5 other girls and 3 guys. Our SOLmates, Ken from Kenya (hehe) and Botlche from Botswana, are fabulous—awesome people who get along with us all really well. We also have a 24/7 security guard who’s really cool. Campus is about an 8-10 minute walk away, and includes an excessive amount of stair climbing. Pictures are of the view from my window and the outside of one of the houses.

Without a doubt, I miss the ease and comfort I have with friends from home/Barnard, but I definitely am excited about the friendships I’ve been developing here. Relationships are solidifying, but nothing feels too set in stone. My favorite nights so far have been the ones spent on our lawn, sipping wine, listening to music and meeting/playing Catch Phrase with Ken’s friends from UCT or whoever happens to pop by. The stars are ridiculous!

UCT Orientation: After four days of intensive CIEE orientation, UCT orientation (for all international students) began. It’s still going on technically, but we’ve all realized that most activities are highly skippable.

UCT orientation kicked off, however, with quite a day. My housemates and I scrambled to make it to campus by 8:00 am. We were not successful, but Africa time is generally a tad more relaxed. Kind of like Miller-Futransky family time. We boarded lovely coach buses as we set off to explore the Cape Peninsula. Our guide shared interesting tidbits and facts as we drove along… most of these I unfortunately could not hear/understand, but I’m sure they were pretty interesting. It was so nice to finally spend a day of orientation being able to take in all of the natural beauty of this country—the mountains, the ocean, the trees, the colors…all that jazz.

Our stops included:

-Penguin watching: Penguins who live out of sea stand still, stare out into space and do very little other than the very occasional wing flap or waddle. Still, it was very exciting to look at so many penguins in one place.

-Ocean View Township: My first visit to a township was a little strange, considering that I pulled in on one of 15 coach busses filled with mostly white students. We all poured into a community center, where they fed us a delicious lunch and welcomed us warmly. We also got a glimpse into the growth of community development in the township as we enjoyed watching members of Ocean View’s talent program perform. The dancers were amazing. We also heard a young, budding, not-so-amazing singer….at least she tried. I’m excited to start volunteering so I can start really spending some actual time in a developing community.

-Cape Point: Our last stop of the day involved a brief and breathtaking hike and a chance to look at the southernmost point of Africa where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet (except they don’t actually meet until several hundred miles out… but it’s more fun to say they do). Gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous.

Overall Cape Town Observations:

This place is seriously complex. At times, I feel like I’m in a completely developed city. But racial segregation still runs deep and poverty surrounds the city. Safety is much more of an issue than it is in New York, and this has definitely impacted my independence in terms of being able to meet people out at a bar or run to town on my own. There have been a plethora of safety talks—don’t get into non-metered taxis, don’t ever take public transportation at night, always go out with others and don’t be an idiot. To all the concerned grandparents out there, I definitely definitely feel safe—my house is in a cute neighborhood (and the locked gate, security guard and razor wire help), I’m making good choices and the most serious crime I really have to be concerned about is theft.

Classes start on Friday the 13 (an omen?) so after registration this Friday, we’re pretty much off for the week. Not sure yet if I’m going to stay in Cape Town or do a bit of traveling around the country…. we shall see.

Okay. I promise this will be a LOT shorter next time… and I hope to bring you a toilet visual soon.