#winning

So despite the fact that Internet in Cape Town is expensive, thus making Youtube video watching a legitimate calculated expense, I did have the luxury of watching the Charlie Sheen interview from a couple weeks back that everyone raves about. Though I don’t have tiger blood, I can safely say that after this weekend, I am totally winning. Everyone seems to agree here that this weekend was perhaps the best we’ve had in Cape Town thus far.

It started on Thursday, when after attending two classes (wearing a green sweatshirt to support my people, despite the heat) I realized going to the rest of my classes simply wasn’t worth it, so I left and went home to go to the beach. Except, we didn’t go to the beach. We went to one of the most beautiful places I’ve been in Cape Town: The Sea Point public pool. It is a set of three salt water pools that are warmer than the (absolutely freezing) Atlantic Ocean, with a great brick patio where you can lay right along the ocean. Ashley, Daniel, and I spent the day there basking in the beauty of the view (Lion’s Head looks REALLY different from there), and getting our tan on, before we decided to try and make it back home for my dance class. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen, because there was a TON of traffic through the city, and our cab just happened to hit another car during the ride home. Given the way South Africans drive around here, I’m shocked it was my first car accident! After dinner we went to this club in Claremont called Dakota, where a couple of kids from our program were celebrating their birthday. We stayed up in the VIP area for most of the night, and I had a BLAST hanging out with some American friends. The only time I left the upper level was when Daniel, Kayla, and I were going to go downstairs to dance, but I accidentally slipped and fell down the stairs and ran back out of sheer embarrassment. Ooops! After a couple of hours we went back home, because most of my friends were going to Crystal Pools, but I stayed in order to go to volunteering the next day.

Friday I woke up, and decided that I was going to go shopping first. I went across the street to a cool store, and bought my first pair of new jeans in South Africa. Interestingly, I learned that they only make jeans in length 33 (bad news for someone like me who wears length 30 at home), because the style here is to roll up your jeans. Annoying, but I liked the jeans. After Daniel and I attempted to go to volunteering, we went to the Cavendish Mall in Claremont. It was large and overwhelming, but I did manage to find a cool store called Canterbury New Zealand, the world’s oldest and largest chain of rugby retailers, which is awesome because it reminded me of Rugby back in DC (minus the bar and the great thousand island dressing). Also, I went to the Rondebosch Jewelers across the street, and pierced my cartilage! I don’t know why I did it, but I just did, and everyone seems to like it which is great because I’m still a little unsure about it, but whatever, it’s done!

Then came Friday night, perhaps the most fun concert I’ve ever been to. Everyone I know should listen to some music by this group called Goldfish. They are a local group, consisting of 2 DJs. But they are more than just DJs – one plays the double bass and the other plays the flute and saxophone – WHILE THEY ARE IN CONCERT. It’s incredible to hear them wail out while also bumping techno beats. Everyone else had been to see them before, but I had miss their last couple of concerts in Cape Town, and since this was their last I had to be there. The concert was at this really awesome bar called Trinity in Green Point; definitely the kind of place that serves the upscale clientele of Cape Town. I probably have never been as sweaty as I was by the end of the concert (which is certainly saying a lot), but it was ABSOLUTELY incredible to be there – the energy was SO electric. They’re actually playing in New York this week, which makes me really upset because I would LOVE nothing more than to see them again in concert here.

Saturday morning I woke up, planning to do all my homework. However, after returning some DVDs to the video store, I saw an email from my history professor saying that we were given a 5 day extension on our paper for after break, so when Anders asked me if I wanted to go to Old Biscuit Mill, I couldn’t say anything but yes. Old Biscuit Mill is a huge tourist attraction, but it’s cool because it’s also really packed with locals. It’s essentially a farmer’s market that is open every Saturday, but it’s more than that; they have crafts & clothing, as well as some of the most delicious food I’ve ever had. I tried an ostrich burger for the second time, this time with guacamole, and I’ve officially decided that ostrich is among my favorite meats. Luckily, it’s also super super good for you! However, Saturday was potentially one of the hottest days I’ve experienced in Cape Town, and since there is hardly any air ventilation in the food tent, we had to leave pretty quickly, and drove over to meet Ashley, Isabella, Kayla, & Dave at the pool in Sea Point. I spent about 4 hours at the pool, wearing SPF 6 (thank god for tanning oil & low SPFs) and got a phenomenal tan, which I hope to keep until I get back to NY. After a bit, some people left, and others came and joined us, and finally we decided to go home. But, before we went home, we decided to eat at a place called Ocean Basket in Sea Point, where I had some absolutely delicious Kingklip. From there, we went back to Rondebosch.

We got back home around 6, which was a problem, because we had planned to leave for Cape Town Carnival by 8! While we were out, some of my housemates had gone and bought hats, wigs, and masks to wear, mainly on my advice, as I had told them about what a Carnival was like in the Caribbean. Because I didn’t have a costume, I scrounged around for some items, and luckily Alex had a South African flag that I pinned around my neck as a cape, as well as a fedora for me to wear. After having a great time at home getting ready to leave, I joined the early group of people leaving for Long Street for Carnival! Once we got there, though, we realized not many other people were dressed up… So we may have stood out a fair bit the entire night. Oh well! Better to stand out, right?!? Anders, Jules, Lacey, and I went first to the Waiting Room, because we figured we’d have a better chance of seeing the parade on the roof than down on the crazy street. There, we ended up talking for a while with this couple who was sitting next to us, who were wicked cool. After that, some more of our friends came. At one point, I turned to some South African girl who was sitting near me to tell her that I loved her mask. They were really interested in my American accent, so I spent the next couple of minutes talking with them, including a scream session of “Empire State of Mind” after I told them I was from New York. After the Waiting Room, we wanted to go down into the street, where I promptly got into a dance-off with someone (and won) before I headed to Fiction to meet some more friends. There, we just hung out on the balcony, and watched the rest of the parade. When we decided to leave there, I decided to go back to the Waiting Room to meet up with Daniel, Lacey, and Jules. While I was ordering a drink, we decided we really just wanted to leave, so we started to head home. However, because it was Jules’ 21^st birthday and she wanted McDonalds, we walked straight towards the Golden Arches at the end of Long Street, which was ABSOLUTELY packed. So, we got into a cab and went to the McDonalds in Mowbray, where the night ended on a moderately sour note, as there were some South African guys behind us mocking our accents, which put us all in bad moods. Combine that with the fact that fast food in South Africa is far from fast, it wasn’t a great pit-stop.

Sunday morning I know was going to be a bit of a struggle, and it definitely was. The reason for that was our trip to Mzoli’s. Mzoli’s is, literally, a meat restaurant, in a township called Gugulethu. Everyone brings a ton of booze, and hangs out all day, because it takes a couple of hours to cook the raw meat that you select from a raw meat stand outside. So, we waited around all morning, drinking and having some laughs. Luckily there was a liquor store close by, because my 6-pack finished real quick, and township beer is REALLY cheap. Finally, our meat came. Literally, exactly how it sounds: it was meat in a bucket. No napkins, no plates, no utensils. Just you, your friends, and a giant bucket of meat that you devour. I think between the 18 of us that were there, we killed all the meat in about 10 minutes. After that we hung around and danced for a bit, before heading out. When we got back home, we were all a little bit drunk, so we ended up, rather than doing homework or napping or anything, dancing around singing outside like fools. After about an hour of that, somehow Ashley, Dave, Isabella and I all fell asleep outside, only to be woken up by some visitors who were very confused by our outdoor napping spot. The rest of the day was just us recovering from that long afternoon, and finally we were all just wiped and went to bed.

Monday I woke up with every intention of spending the day doing work – didn’t happen. After returning the movie I had watched the video store (the first movie/TV thing I’d watched in South Africa – Paul Blart Mall Cop), I decided to go with Ashley, Isabella, and a couple of other friends to the beach in Camps Bay. I had only been to Camps Bay to go out to eat before, so it was a nice change to be on the beach there, which is literally just like South Beach on steroids, that’s how beautiful it is. Usually the beach is super windy, but it wasn’t that day, so we were able to lay out for a really long time. The sun was super hot, so luckily I got really tan. After laying out for a while, we headed over to a DELICIOUS restaurant called Sandbar on the strip in Camps Bay, where I had the most delicious Mexican Beef Burger before heading back home to relax. That night Isabella and I went over to Pig & Swizzle, grabbed a couple beers, and finished off the best weekend we’ve had in Cape Town thus far!

Sorry if I don’t write anything over the next couple of days – I just finished up a pretty hectic week of classes, and am now getting ready to leave on Sunday for Zambia & Botswana! Victoria Falls and a safari in Chobe National Park, here I come!

A Whole New World

A whole new world

Don't you dare close your eyes

A hundred thousand things to see

Hold your breath, it gets better

Before I came to South Africa, I had been familiar with a certain residential part of this country: the township. Admittedly, I fell into the trap of imagining that every township was composed of the tin-roof shanties that adorn the informal settlements in many township areas. However, my stay in Soweto during my weekend trip to Joburg showed me how I wrong I could be about the idea of a township. For that reason, I was slightly less apprehensive (at least I think so) than many of my friends at the prospect of our weekend homestay in Ocean View, a township with perhaps the most ironic title of any place I’ve been in South Africa. There is no view of the ocean. Instead, Ocean View is sandwiched in a small valley between mountains, and is comprised almost entirely of individuals who were forcibly removed from places like Simon’s Town, Noordhoek, and Sunnydale during the apartheid era. At the end of the weekend, most of my ideas were proved wrong, as I had a blast staying with my family.

Just as a small note, however, I am not going to be using their names, for reasons of privacy. I will just refer to them as their relation in our host family (i.e. host mother, host father, host grandmother, etc.)

Our weekend began when our busses left UCT at 5pm, departing for Ocean View High School. We got our nametags, each with a number corresponding to a table where our host families were waiting. Over dinner and performances from the local arts center (who completely showed up the Americans who performed, by the way), I and my housemate Akeem who was also staying with this family got to meet our host father and mother. They told us a little bit about themselves, including that they had 4 kids: a 6 year old boy, a 2 year old boy, and twin 7-month old girls. I was SO excited to be back around little kids!! It felt like working at camp all over again.

After dinner we went back to our host family’s home. It was modest, but a lot nicer than my initial notion of a township home was. Our host dad explained that he bought the house from his brother, who had bought his mother’s old house down the street. After a glass of tea, we proceeded to go meet the rest of the extended family, easily accomplished by walking down the street to our host aunt and uncle’s house. We were greeted exceptionally warmly, and made to feel immediately like members of the family. It was that night that I learned my family, like I imagine many other families in the township, has a rule: no empty glasses. Whenever, you are done with a drink, it’s time for another one. It was interesting to note, however, just how generous everyone was, for they would see empty glasses, pour a bunch of drinks, and pass them out, before finally serving themselves. They also began to teach us some words in Afrikaans, most of which unfortunately I’ve already forgotten.

That night I also got my first taste of the shebeen, of which some are legal and others are illegal. A shebeen is a liquor store. Unlike the liquor stores in Rondebosch, however, these stores are open 24/7. So, we drove over to the home of another uncle, and went with his son over to the shebeen to buy some brandy for the next day. There were a couple of teenagers hanging out outside, waiting for someone to offer to buy them something (felt kind of like being back in the US, except that they were drinking in the street).

From there, we went back to the party, where we ended up staying until about 2am. I received some great advice from my host uncle, my favorite piece of which was “all you need in life is to wake up happy”. Luckily, this guy liked me enough to give me this same piece of advice about 10 more times during the weekend. My host mother, pretty drunk by this point, also opened up about her past relationship abuse issues, and the loss of her first child. It really struck me that someone could be so open with someone they had just met, but I had to remember that these people weren’t just opening up to a stranger; we were people staying in their homes, joining their families for the weekend. Finally, we went back home, because we had to be awake at 6:15am for our Saturday outing.

We woke up at that ungodly hour, roused ourselves to get dressed and drink a glass of tea. The bus was supposed to leave at 7, but we didn’t make it there until about 8. Luckily this wasn’t a problem, however, because the park we were going to didn’t open until 9 anyway, so we were still waiting for about 20 minutes before the park gates opened. I spent some of my day chatting with the adults and with the 5 other Americans who had become members of this large extended family. However, most of my day, luckily, was spent playing with all the little kids. I learned a little bit about how to play cricket from a kid who I believe may have been my host cousin, but I’m not necessarily positive about that one. This kid, an 8 year old, also was the person with whom I had the most intellectual conversations the entire day; he was way smarter than his age would let on, and it actually reminded me why I’ve always liked working with kids so much.

This picnic, however, did have a slightly sour element to it. I can safely say that I now understand what people mean when they say that townships have a very distinct drinking culture. Whatever may have caused it, there is no denying that people from the townships drink heavier than anyone else I’ve ever encountered. Most host mom, albeit only on 2 hours of sleep, spent some time sleeping, but immediately after sleeping (while still drunk) managed to reach a point of intoxication that I’m not used to seeing in adults. While she happened to be an extreme case, there were many around who were approaching that level. While I can safely say that I had a buzz for almost the entirety of the time I was there (because it was uncomfortable to say no to any drinks I was poured), there was no chance that any of us Americans were anywhere close to the level of drunkenness that our host parents achieved.

From there, I noticed some very scary things beginning to happen that made my a little bit uncomfortable. When we got back on the bus to return home, I sat with my host family towards the back of the bus. Upon looking over, I saw that my host mother was being yelled at for hitting one of the other children on the bus, and her response was “he hit me first!” For an adult to say something like that was truly frightening, knowing that it came from a real place of seriousness. Then, I was surrounding by 10 middle-aged coloured women literally screaming church songs, banging on the back and roof of the bus, literally blasted and outrageous. Finally, we got home, and I was able to take a nap. The saddest and scariest part of my weekend, however, was when my mother’s sister-in-law and her best friend each took away one of one of the 7-month old babies. While I cannot safely say why this happened, my best guesstimation is that they took the babies away because she couldn’t handle taking care of them in the state she was in.

After our nap we were again invited back down to the aunt and uncle’s house for a braai. I was immediately greeted warmly by the family again, and was fed some of the best fish that I’ve had since I’ve been in South Africa. First I ate some snoek, and then I had angelfish. Both were absolutely superb. Then, finally, the TV was working, and we were able to really partake in the reason we were there: KARAOKE! This family was crazy about their karaoke. Unfortunately, there were no microphones for us to use, so karaoke was basically just us yelling and dancing together while watching words on a screen. Oddly enough, the first video we watched was actually a Playboy karaoke video… definitely an interesting experience to say the least. All of us Americans spent the entire time just laughing at the absurdity of that. The rest of the night was a repeat of the night before… just dancing, laughing, drinking, and enjoying ourselves. I learned a new kind of dance called the “jazz” which was kind of like salsa (thus I had problems doing it because I just kept doing salsa moves). We also managed to do an entire karaoke CD of just ‘Nysnc music, bringing us all back to our childhoods. Finally, around midnight I had to go to bed, so I left and went back home to sleep.

Sunday morning we just lazily woke up whenever we wanted, and then hung out at home for a little bit. My host dad taught Akeem and me how to DJ on this cool computer system that he had, which was totally awesome because it’s the same system that most major DJs in the world use. After that, we went to my host grandmother’s house, because it was her birthday. I thought it would be a simple hello, happy birthday, goodbye kind of situation. Instead, we were there for a couple of hours, during which time a toothless woman sporadically jumped out of her comatose state (from drinking, I assume) to yell “DANCE” at me…which made me very uncomfortable. Because of that, I spent most of my time outside with my host dad, who was awesome and talking to us about the differences between the US and the South African education system, and about the township itself. I also spent a lot of time again playing with the kids, who I did not at all want to say goodbye to. After heading back home, we grabbed our stuff, and made one more trip to our host aunt and uncle’s house, where we found out that one of the kids on our program had actually appeared in a music video that was really popular in South Africa, and thus the family had dragged him back over to their house to take pictures with him. From that house, we said our many goodbyes, and went back to Ocean View High School to say goodbye to our families for the last time. It was bittersweet, especially to say goodbye to the kids, who just wanted me to hug them over and over and over, but I was slightly relieved to be getting back to my normal routine.

None of the above statements in any way imply that I disliked my time in Ocean View. I think that the community is a vibrant, historical, and incredible place to have been. I probably learned more from my weekend in Ocean View than I have about the apartheid era in my entire life. However, the strange things I had to go through, not par for the course for this homestay, did manage to make my experience a little bit less of a good memory than I hoped it would be. I do not, though, have any regrets about the weekend, and am so glad that I had the opportunity to live in a township, even if just for a weekend.

Frequently Changing Frequencies

Before I begin, I have to first give credit for this to my friend Alex. She, after hearing our dance instructor say this, made a mental note to write a blog entry about it, so I borrowed her mental note, because I wanted to share all of this with everyone at home too!

So, we’re in the middle of our African Dance (for semester study abroad students, making it a lot easier for us to just let loose and not worry because it’s new to all of us) class, and we were doing some across the floor combinations. The instructor, for the first couple of lines, would be doing the steps just as he taught them. Oddly enough, though, as he continued going with more lines, he would start improvising and moving in whatever way he felt like moving. Some were disconcerted & confused, as they were relying on him to follow the steps that they weren’t exactly understanding (African Dance – pretty different from anything you do in the States). So, he came over, and said this to us:

“I’m in a different mode… Or what is it you say… frequency? Yes, I’m on another frequency.”

One of my favorite things about this African Dance class is that we are constantly reminded just to let go. Central to the dance form we are learning is an appreciation of the music, of how the dance is just an extension of the music, and how dance is interactive and fun for an audience. Too many times we, as students, are caught up in the intricacies of footwork, of arm placement, and of distance being traveled. Too much worry breeds an inability to focus on expressing yourself; instead, you’re just trying to become perfect (a la Nina Sawyer in Black Swan). We are all guilty at times of partially driving ourselves mad trying to impress ourselves by nailing a step. However, what that statement tells me is that there is something missing in that style of dancing: there’s no fun.

African Dance (whatever that may be – in our lecture we have debated the idea of what is African Dance, but for all intents and purposes here I’m just using African Dance as a generally name for the specific styles we’re learning) is about fun. That’s why we need to let ourselves go – we need to be able to get out of our own heads and enjoy the dance. Our focus was all in the wrong place, and once that was pointed out, everything changed for me. No longer was I trying to be one of the few who can nail a combination, to show that I was paying attention and caring. I let go yesterday. And while I did end up making some slight mistakes on some of the combinations, I didn’t care. That’s brand new for me. All I did was have fun, and the feelings, the expression, and the energy began to flow. I think my instructor could sense it, because he was feeding off the energy as well. African Dance is about an exchange of energies, and I finally got to the place where my energy is ready to be exchanged (as strange as that sounds).

Although this lesson mostly applies to African Dance, I think it’s a perfect metaphor for how Cape Town is changing me. I used to be slightly anal retentive, paranoid about doing something wrong, always worried that I was going to be unable to live up to expectations in school, with friends, and in other aspects of my life. After coming to Cape Town, I’ve learned perhaps the most important lesson I needed to learn: chill. There’s no need to be rushing around everywhere, and no need to be psyching myself out about acing an exam.  While I am here to learn, I’m also here to take advantage of everything Cape Town has to offer me. So while that may mean skipping class every once in a while to go to the beach, or missing out on some hanging out with friends to go volunteer, I’m no longer worried about what I could be doing, or what I should be doing better.

Thank you Cape Town, for finally making me see that I just need to live on the frequency of the music, need to just do what naturally comes to me, need to embrace every opportunity that comes my way. But most importantly, thank you for throwing some black swan into my white swan’d self.

**Side note: Two Black Swan references in one blog post? I’d call that a major success.

Golden Dream

Restless one in a world of change

Keeping dreams aloft in the rain

Spirit free, soaring through the clouds


Of time, of time

I’m glad I have a chance right now to just sit down and write. It’s been getting pretty hectic between school and just getting more and more acclimated to life in Cape Town. I have honestly just been forgetting to write down everything. Seeing as I plan on using this as a memory resource when I return, I’m regretting not documenting everything, but I think that I’m having more fun just living in the moment than sitting in my room and writing down everything I do! Rather than discussing the monotonies or school (or not so monotonies, seeing as there are so many issues in class every day that I’ve just learned to chill out and accept everything for what it is), I’ll just hit the highlights of the last two weeks.

Last weekend was pretty cramped; CIEE brought us back to the Spier winery in Stellenbosch for a wine tasting. Although I had been looking forward to this for a while, I was slightly disappointed as there were mainly red wines, and since I don’t really like the taste of red wine, I stuck with tasting just a couple of white wines that the winery made. I ended up buying a bottle of this delicious wine that I loved (it was a Chauvignon Blanc), and as much as I would have loved to bring it home as a souvenir, it wasn’t going to be possible, so I have already drunk it. Sorry to anyone who wanted to try!

The next day we went to the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens to see a summer concert. It felt like seeing an outdoor concert back in the States, except that directly behind the stage was Table Mountain, and there’s nothing in the U.S. that can compare to that view. The concert was pretty cool, a bunch of local South African musicians, so it was nice to get to see what South African music actually sounds like, since at clubs and bars they really only play American music.

The rest of the week still seems like a kind of a blur. Everyone realized that they were slowly but surely starting to fall behind on schoolwork, so at Devonshire everyone’s really been cramping down and making sure that they get on top of their game before UCT gets the best of them. However, I did play the fun-over-education card last Tuesday, when we went to Muizenberg and I had the intention of returning in time for African Dance class. Unfortunately, we decided instead to stay on the beach for longer and go out for dinner at this place in St. James called Octopus’s Garden (named after the Beatles song, so I got the ‘Beatle’s Burger’) which was delicious. It also was one of the hottest days here thus far on that day, and I didn’t want to dance in a very hot dance studio (there are hardly any air conditioners in South Africa), so I felt I could justify the choice. I plan and not missing (m)any more!

But, now on the most important part of this entry: my trip to Johannesburg (or, as they called it here, “Jo’burg” or “Jozi”), South Africa’s “City of Gold” and Pretoria!

Friday morning (after going out on Thursday… poor choice on my part) we had to be ready to leave at 7:30AM. Quinton (our Resident Director, who was accompanying my seminar class on the trip) called me at 7:31 to tell me that he was at Devonshire to pick me up… but unfortunately the sliding glass door out of the courtyard was off the track, so I struggled very hard to make it out. Remy had to come downstairs and open it for me, so that kind of set us back a little timewise, which would probably have mattered to a U.S. itinerary, but not in South Africa, where everything is on African time. After we picked everyone up and went to the airport, we went over to the gate and got breakfast (I got Wimpy, literally the most disgusting fast food ever but the only place that had bacon & egg sandwiches), and flew off to Joburg! After landing at O.R. Tambo International Airport, we grabbed some lunch (I ate at Kuaui, which is phenomenal, and conveniently located at home right across the street with the best apple juice I’ve ever had), and headed off to the Apartheid Museum.

One funny thing about the Apartheid Museum is that it is located on the same grounds at the Gold Reef City amusement park. One thing Quinton told us was that Joburg happens to be a city controlled by contradiction, and this was one of the more blaring ones. The museum was absolutely powerful. I can only compare its gravity with the Holocaust Museum in DC. The two hours we had at the museum were not nearly enough to appreciate every artifact, every image, and every piece of text placed throughout the museum. Unfortunately, the day was made a little soured by the fact that my friend Ashley had her camera stolen at the museum. Although it was sad, it was something that we’ve all come to accept as somewhat normal; if left slightly unattended, there is a very real possibility that something will be stolen. One of the stranger sights, though, was the condom that we found on a bench at the end of the museum. Call me crazy, but I don’t think that apartheid really turns anyone on, so while we joked about it, at the same time I felt it was very disrespectful for anyone to even think that was either funny or to have actually engaged in behavior requiring a condom, which would be an outright affront to the sanctity of the museum.

From there, we drove to Soweto, where we were to say. Soweto (pronounced “so-way-too”) is a grouping of 13 townships, comprising about 4 million people. Soweto is also the home of Nelson Mandela (whose house I was staying a mere two blocks from), Desmond Tutu, and the riots that erupted in 1976 that reignited the anti-apartheid struggle. There, we were split into groups, and assigned the Bed & Breakfasts we would be staying in. I stayed at Dakalo Bed & Breakfast, a very quaint house situated in Orlando West, where we were greeted with fresh orange/mango blend juice and a chance to relax in the bedroom before we went back out.

From Soweto, we went out to dinner in Rosebank, one of the more posh neighborhoods of Joburg. One thing I learned about Joburg simply from dinner is that the people are dressed to the 9’s at all times. Additionally, the service was much quicker than at restaurants in Cape Town, indicative of the fact that the culture of Joburg is much more fast-paced than chill Cape Town. Joburg is referred to often as the “New York of Africa”, a very apt comparison, while I would place Cape Town as similar to California culture. After dinner at a lovely pizza place, we went off to the Grand Hyatt Johannesburg to see a fashion show! The show was being put on by a company, Design for Style, started by a member of the CIEE Staff. DFS provides a platform for designers, ranging from clothing to accessory to makeup to hair, to showcase their work in front of potential investors, clients, and buyers. The room was small and intimate, and my friends Rachel, Ashley, and I managed to sit at the couch right at the end of the runway, and thus had incredible views. The show, supposed to start at 9, started at 9 on African time, meaning 9:45. It was totally worth the wait, though, to be able to see what a South African fashion show was like. It was incredibly cool to be able to see what the modern South African perception of beauty is, as well as to see how the designs differed from what you would see on an American runway. After the show was over, because we were all so tired, we drove back to Soweto, and went to bed.

The next morning we began what was to be an incredibly jam-packed day. First, we had a bus tour of almost the whole of Soweto. Starting in Diepkloof Extension (the Beverly Hills of Soweto), we were able to see just how wealthy portions of the township are. But, we were also able to drive by the neighborhood of Kilptown, as well as some informal settlements, to see how poverty is still alive and well in the townships. Kliptown was an interesting place, though, because that was where the Freedom Charter was signed, so we went to the Freedom Charter monument, where you can read the document, as well as shop at a small market, where I bought a really cool brass bracelet. We also during the course of the tour stumbled across a park where our guide recognized a wedding was taking place, so we went to see the photos being taken. We also, unfortunately, saw many more funeral processions. Our guide informed us that it is often joked that you’re foolish if you can’t find a free meal in Soweto on the weekends, because so many people are dying from HIV. We did learn, however, about South African township funeral culture, where people get dressed up incredibly well to show off to each other, and also where they race after the burial back to sight of the meal, in order to avoid the long lines that form. We finished the tour of Soweto at the restaurant run by our guide, Alina, where we were treated to some incredibly South African cuisine.

After the meal at Alina’s restaurant, we began the trek up to Pretoria. We were all in food comas, and thus slept a fair amount on the way there, but were roused by Quinton once approaching Pretoria. The encroachment to Pretoria is dominated by the massive Voortrekker Monument, our first stop in Pretoria. The monument is dedicated to the Voortrekkers, the Afrikaner population who made the Great Trek from the lands of the eastern portion of the Cape Colony to escape British rule. The formal reason for the monument was to commemorate the Battle of Blood River, the battle where the Voortrekkers beat the Zulu nation, ending the mfecane. From there, some trekkers went up to Pretoria, now the Administrative capital of South Africa, but also a stronghold of Afrikaner pride. It was strange to be there, having just been to the Apartheid Museum, knowing that there are celebrations still every year at this living monument to, essentially, the history of Apartheid. I felt very uneasy the entire time I was there, and although I was glad to learn about Afrikaner history and culture, I cannot truthfully say I wasn’t somewhat excited to leave.

Our next stop, on our big school bus, was a gated community in Pretoria, the home of Dr. Sam Khalileni (I believe that’s his last name, forgive me for forgetting!), a friend of Quinton’s who agreed to host a braai at his beautiful home for us. It was great to get to see how people who were once oppressed by the apartheid regime have quickly risen in new society, and this home was a testament to that. Perhaps the best thing about this braai was that Dr. Sam invited one of his friends, a high level member of the current ANC government. It was absolutely amazing to be able to talk to someone of such importance, for we are just American college students visiting Pretoria for one day. We wound up just sitting in a circle for about an hour, discussing politics. They were all very interested to hear what we had to say, especially when it came to discussing American sentiments about Obama today. I have to say I learned a lot about the thought processes of the upper echelons of the ANC, and I cannot believe I had that opportunity. We had a rushed meal (albeit, another incredibly delicious one), where we were exposed to some Tanzanian and Kenyan food as well as some traditional South African cuisine. It was only rushed because we had another stop make that day.

That stop was Loftus Verfeld Stadium, to see the Blue Bulls play against the Highlanders. The Blue Bulls are the reigning Super 15 Rugby champions, and I was incredibly excited to see a professional caliber rugby game, as rugby is one of the sports in which South Africa excels. The culture was perhaps what I was most interested in, for rugby is the be-all and end-all of Afrikaner existence, and Pretoria was the perfect place to be exposed to this culture. The celebrations were much less muted than at the soccer game I’d been to two weeks before, which was surprising, for I though Afrikaners were very into rugby (although I realized later this was just because the Bulls were losing the entire time, and ended up losing). Perhaps most disconcertingly, my friend Taylor said that she ended up being uncomfortable where she was sitting, because the drunk guys in front of her were being to spout racist remarks. I learned that one of the most popular expressions among some people here is “I’m not racist, but…”. It’s fairly horrifying that racism still persists in this country, which professes to be the “Rainbow Nation”, but I guess 17 years truly isn’t enough time to wipe out an entire racist philosophy that has persisted for centuries. After leaving Pretoria to return to Soweto, a couple of us went out to Sakhumzi, the local bar in Orlando West, where we were the only white people. This is where I really started to figure out just how powerful the differences are between Johannesburg/Soweto and Pretoria. They are two different worlds only 30 minutes apart.

This morning we woke up and went to the Nelson Mandela museum, located at his former home, 8115 Orlando West. The museum was nothing exceptional, however there was something to be said for being in the home of black South Africa’s emotional leader. We did then a little bit more shopping from street-side vendors, and then returned home to pack. From there, we went to the airport, to find out our plane was delayed, so we went to a nice meal and finally our flight back to Cape Town.

What a whirlwind of a weekend! I’m excited to just relax for tonight, seeing as tomorrow is the UCT/Stellenbosch rugby game! This is the biggest rivalry game of the season, and it promises to be an incredible display of school spirit, which I’m really excited for!