After moving in we had more orientations. I went on two separate tours that gave me a taste of what I had seen while driving to the hotel after getting off my plane. There are two worlds in Cape Town, one you see in brochures for five star vacations and one you see in brochures for international service projects. They coexist here, and are often only separated by a road.
In one of my first emails home I wrote:
Just a brief snapshot: We're driving on our shuttle bus from the airport in Cape Town to our hotel and we're on a four lane high way (we're on the left side of the road because it's all backwards here)...to our right we can see a nice suburb of Cape Town with nice little back yards...on the left are what can only be called "piles" of shacks. It looks like people just made squares of out tin and put them right up against each other. Row after row of disorganized row of shacks of all different colors of metal. It's insane. And it's oh so normal. I kept thinking, this doesn't make sense. How does this happen this way. It's literally separated by the highway. Nothing else. We'll learn much more about it tomorrow but that's what I can gather so far.
We first took what was called the “Peninsula Tour,” where we took a nice coach bus around the city and up the coast to places like the Cape of Good Hope. Along the way our tour guide had extensive real estate knowledge and was able to tell us the prices of all the homes. They went for several million each. They are owned by white South Africans.
The next day I went on a tour for a charity organization that took me through some townships. People there are using plastic bags for roves and selling old clothes off of tarps in the street. These are black South Africans. The “coloured” or lighter skinned South Africans live in smaller settlements, either in the city or outside it. The gap was/is so vast I can’t even wrap my head around it. My accommodations here in Cape Town lie in the middle, and there is an assumption that I carry around that much more because I am an American.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Orientation/move in
At this point orientation is sort of a blur. It was almost two weeks ago now.
We were hoarded into this lobby. It wasn’t a big lobby, but it wasn’t quaint. We were standing there sweating, our suitcases at our feet. It had to be eighty or ninety degrees, and most of us were coming from JFK, where it was five below when we boarded. Looking out at the kidney shaped pool through the French doors, I was lost between my desire to jump in and put on a parka and go home. The heat was beating us, and the flight had drained us, and all I can remember is feeling like my mouth was dry from small talk.
Where do you go to school? Where are you from? Are you here alone or with friends?
Where did you request to live? What floor is your room on? Did your suitcase make the weight limit or did you have to pay extra?
Do you like your school? Have you been to the East Coast? Do you know what time we have to get up tomorrow?
Are you going out tonight? So what is authentic African food anyway? I’m really sorry, I’m so bad with names...
When I found someone that I could talk about more than the weather with, I took a mental note, and I hoped they felt the same way about me. However, I could never be sure, so I clung to no one. The next three days were talks and talks and tours. We were shown the campus and the surrounding area, bought cell phones and called home for the first time. We were given talks about how we would be perceived; we met the people we would be living with. Our leaders were called SOLmates or “Students Orientation Leaders.” They live with us in the houses and in the dorms and ran our orientation. They act sort of like RAs, and are from all over Africa. My two are Ken, from Kenya, and Bothle, from Botswana. There are a great number of them from Zimbabwe, Tanzania and Namibia, and a few from Johannesburg. There’s even one from the States who loved the program so much last semester that she stayed for the spring.
After three days in the hotel, three days that felt like six, we left and moved into what would become our homes for the semester. I was placed in a CIEE house, off campus but close by. In reality, there are actually two houses on the property, one that sleeps nine and one that sleeps eleven. There are twenty of us living in this “house.” When I told a local South African where I was staying, he asked me if MTV was involved. Sometimes I wonder.
We chose numbers out of a hat and I was the seventh person to run into the house and pick my room in under sixty seconds. I got lucky enough to grab a room at the very front of the main house with two windows…one looking out to the mountains. There are hardwood floors and double doors on one side of my room that lead out onto the front patio. When I open them on a Friday afternoon like today, I get an incredible cross breeze that cools everything down. That and the sun that crawls over the mountain and through my window in the morning cause this space to qualify as the nicest place I’ve ever lived in.
I can’t say this is what I envisioned when I signed up to come to Africa.
We were hoarded into this lobby. It wasn’t a big lobby, but it wasn’t quaint. We were standing there sweating, our suitcases at our feet. It had to be eighty or ninety degrees, and most of us were coming from JFK, where it was five below when we boarded. Looking out at the kidney shaped pool through the French doors, I was lost between my desire to jump in and put on a parka and go home. The heat was beating us, and the flight had drained us, and all I can remember is feeling like my mouth was dry from small talk.
Where do you go to school? Where are you from? Are you here alone or with friends?
Where did you request to live? What floor is your room on? Did your suitcase make the weight limit or did you have to pay extra?
Do you like your school? Have you been to the East Coast? Do you know what time we have to get up tomorrow?
Are you going out tonight? So what is authentic African food anyway? I’m really sorry, I’m so bad with names...
When I found someone that I could talk about more than the weather with, I took a mental note, and I hoped they felt the same way about me. However, I could never be sure, so I clung to no one. The next three days were talks and talks and tours. We were shown the campus and the surrounding area, bought cell phones and called home for the first time. We were given talks about how we would be perceived; we met the people we would be living with. Our leaders were called SOLmates or “Students Orientation Leaders.” They live with us in the houses and in the dorms and ran our orientation. They act sort of like RAs, and are from all over Africa. My two are Ken, from Kenya, and Bothle, from Botswana. There are a great number of them from Zimbabwe, Tanzania and Namibia, and a few from Johannesburg. There’s even one from the States who loved the program so much last semester that she stayed for the spring.
After three days in the hotel, three days that felt like six, we left and moved into what would become our homes for the semester. I was placed in a CIEE house, off campus but close by. In reality, there are actually two houses on the property, one that sleeps nine and one that sleeps eleven. There are twenty of us living in this “house.” When I told a local South African where I was staying, he asked me if MTV was involved. Sometimes I wonder.
We chose numbers out of a hat and I was the seventh person to run into the house and pick my room in under sixty seconds. I got lucky enough to grab a room at the very front of the main house with two windows…one looking out to the mountains. There are hardwood floors and double doors on one side of my room that lead out onto the front patio. When I open them on a Friday afternoon like today, I get an incredible cross breeze that cools everything down. That and the sun that crawls over the mountain and through my window in the morning cause this space to qualify as the nicest place I’ve ever lived in.
I can’t say this is what I envisioned when I signed up to come to Africa.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Cape Town, South Africa.
January/early February 2009
I am in Africa; South Africa, specifically. I have been here for ten days, in which I have seen things I have never in my life seen or heard of or wanted to hear of. I have eaten animals that I didn’t think were edible and have seen division in places I wasn’t aware lines could be drawn. Ten days. What will four months bring? It’s what I keep asking myself. What will four months bring? Where will I be in June? Who will I be?
January/early February 2009
I am in Africa; South Africa, specifically. I have been here for ten days, in which I have seen things I have never in my life seen or heard of or wanted to hear of. I have eaten animals that I didn’t think were edible and have seen division in places I wasn’t aware lines could be drawn. Ten days. What will four months bring? It’s what I keep asking myself. What will four months bring? Where will I be in June? Who will I be?
the plane ride:
New York took us to Cape Town, via Dakar, Senegal. The first leg of the flight I was seated next to a man from Senegal who hadn’t been home in twelve years. He had spent over a decade in the States producing music for artists such as Akon, T Payne, and Lil Wayne. He told me they were flying to Senegal for a welcome home party for him. This is the part of the story where the plane lifted off the ground and he touched my leg out of “fear.” If any of you see the name “Bo” in the credits of an Akon song please let me know, because as of now I spent six hours eating bullshit a Senegalese man fed me only to be touched because he was so “scared”. In the end I guess I go off alive. A little sexual harassment never hurt anyone.
The second leg of the flight I got two seats to myself and slept nine hours to South Africa. I woke up and asked the flight attendant how much longer and she said, “oh, only forty minutes.” I looked up and saw our little plane on the screen above my seat. Still over water. Cape Town in sight.
The second leg of the flight I got two seats to myself and slept nine hours to South Africa. I woke up and asked the flight attendant how much longer and she said, “oh, only forty minutes.” I looked up and saw our little plane on the screen above my seat. Still over water. Cape Town in sight.
Landed.
Moving towards the front of the plane with my bag, I could feel the hot dry air filling the cabin. A wall of thick heat hit us and we were walking down a flight of stairs onto the hot tar. Shuttle buses took us to pick up our luggage. American girls peeled Louie Viuton suitcases off the baggage belt. I found Marisa and made my way to currency exchange. Ten to one. My one hundred U.S. dollars got me close to 1000 South African Rand. I am rich at home in oh so many ways. I am a millionaire here.
Walking out of the terminal we were greeted by our program. Dancing and clapping and singing for us. “C-I-EE…C-I-EE.” The awkwardness began. Marisa was the only face that I knew, and thank God for her. I would have felt so lost, or at least more than I already did. We left and made our way towards our first “Jammie” shuttle ride to the hotel where we would experience orientation for the next three days. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and confused. We stood in the lobby for close to an hour waiting for room assignments.
more to come!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
tomorrow
it's almost six am and i haven't gone to bed yet.
hopefully, i'll learn about time management next time i decide to leave the country.
there's a tom cruise marathon on encore. they're glorifying tom cruise.
oh good, now they're showing 'the jerk' with steve martin, much better.
i'm going to finish packing and maybe nap for a bit, and then off to africa.
wish me luck! i might not be back here for a few days!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
two days
Two days.
I'm home finally. Just made the train today thanks to some lovely escorts. My room is a disaster and I have so much to pack and do tomorrow it's out of control.
I wonder if I'm ready for this...really. I don't have nearly enough socks for the next four and a half months.
If I bought more socks they would look like these ones:
I need a good word to sign off these posts with...any suggestions?
Friday, December 26, 2008
Hello All!
We are only a few weeks away from departure...I wait with bated breath.
But until then! I just thought I'd let everyone in on some of the great features we have here on the blog
Firstly, Tetris is the game of the season yes yes it is, and everyone who visits and becomes a friend of the blog will get unlimited tetris games.
Also, Monday is ham sandwich day:
And for those enthusiastic followers, there will be karaoke with Phil, three nights a week at 7, Eastern Standard time.
Dates to be determined.
We are only a few weeks away from departure...I wait with bated breath.
But until then! I just thought I'd let everyone in on some of the great features we have here on the blog
Firstly, Tetris is the game of the season yes yes it is, and everyone who visits and becomes a friend of the blog will get unlimited tetris games.
Also, Monday is ham sandwich day:
And for those enthusiastic followers, there will be karaoke with Phil, three nights a week at 7, Eastern Standard time.
Dates to be determined.
ticket purchased
I bought my ticket to Africa today, whooo.
My friend Chris has a sort of cool blog I guess.
Too bad he's not getting them to install brail on his.
A little discriminate aren't we Christopher. That's right, that's what I thought.
My friend Chris has a sort of cool blog I guess.
Too bad he's not getting them to install brail on his.
A little discriminate aren't we Christopher. That's right, that's what I thought.
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