South Africa:
Arrival: At about noon we arrived in Port Elizabeth meeting our contact Nuala after a grueling 18 hours in 3 separate flights. The flights were not terrible, however, as we all occupied ourselves (Garrett, Anna, Catelyn, Brittany, Katie, and myself—we were to meet Marchello, Sally, and Clara who reside in Switzerland) with on-demand movies, digital games, and television shows all available from the LCD placed rear side of each chair head. 4 movies, 3 meals and about 4 hours of sleep later, we somehow found ourselves getting off of a plane located half-way across the world.
Saturday marked the beginning of our adventure as we got situated with our living accommodation at Langerry Apartments, Humewood, P.E. The apartments: good size with a kitchen, bathroom and small living room. We made contact with Ashley Matthews, the program field coordinator where she informed us about some incredible attractions in and around the area which immediately sparked ideas in my head as to what we should plan to do…
So you may be wondering what we did? Catelyn’s 21st was just that night, so we went to a nice dinner at a bar and grill called Primi’s where we got a taste of some local brews and dishes making sure Catelyn experienced such a significant rite of passage to its fullest (the employees actually made sure of this, bringing her to the kitchen and dressing her with an apron, hair net, frying pan and scrub brush, and then proceeding to serenade her with some traditional melody followed with a flaming glass full of 5 different liquors). Indeed our indulgence seemed to jump-start the trip in a proper manner.
On that note, we also made another jump, but this time including a full dose of “face-adrenaline” at the world’s highest commercial bungee jump at Boulkran’s Bridge near Plettenburg Bay. Come morning time Sunday, we arose slowly with a strange hang-over-like lackadaisicalness, not from our drinking but induced by intense jet-lag.
Nonetheless, our slightly confused and disoriented minds managed to take us from a semi-late start at 10 a.m. to a car rental dealership (which later screwed us pretty nicely with fees not clearly blatant at the time of purchase) to a grocery store filled with more than adequately priced foods for Americans and Europeans who do well with such a preferable exchange rate to the African currency, the Rand—1 USD currently translates to 7.9 Rand. After our “short” run for food items, we headed off 3 hours east toward Tsitsikamma Falls, shortly thereafter finding ourselves bouncing 700 feet below Bloukran’s Bridge.
The jump was comparable to skydiving sensation-wise, differing only in the fact that I felt more intimate with the ground much earlier than falling from 13,000 feet. The first bounce took each of us soaring another 500 feet again, and the third a bit over 200—incredible but incredibly short. Many of us were itching to go again—some feeling one time suited his/her fix—but unfortunately we were restricted by a budget.
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The unfortunate side apart, our trip was certainly successful, all of us feeling nothing but happy about our venture as we walked to our cars, eyes slightly bulging from our skulls from blood so quickly rushed to our tops. One of the men assisting our ascendance back to the bridge’s top was fortunate as well, bumming a ride with us 20 miles down the highway (Sometimes he would hike a mere 3 hours back to his home on nights without someone driving him…no problem). The girls were a bit scared of the warnings and safety precautions that were so many times drilled into our heads about taking strangers home. Actually, this is something you would think anyone might understand aging past teen years, moms always stressing not to talk to strangers, but there is a certain trust you gain with a person when he carefully makes certain you safely arrive at your feet after jumping off of a bridge. We ended up dropping him off at his destination some 20 miles down the highways on the side of the road, continuing our drive home in one piece.
Side note—the sky here is enormous. Huge clouds and shades of blue seem overpowering to the rest of the African countryside, although the tremendous amount of open space and green grass in the passing fields fill up your view as well. The colors are beautiful especially near sunset and sunrise for this reason.
Early start Monday…the first thing on our agenda was a brief introduction to the campus and our program by Nuala who is in charge of many of the activities of international students at Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University (NMMU). We walked around campus through many of the buildings and were warned about feeding the monkeys that often appear on campus from their surrounding natural habitat.
Later in the day, we took a bus tour of the city, guided by some quick history lessons about Port Elizabeth. A Dutch governor named the city after his wife who never actually made it to South Africa because of disease back home. Many of the buildings and infrastructure close to the coastline were restricted in height due to the intense blue color of the ocean that reminded the Dutch man of his wife’s eyes. To me the blueness of the Indian Ocean is richer in color than what I’ve seen from the Atlantic and Pacific.
From there we rode the bus to Kragga Kamma Game Park where we were able to see zebras, giraffes, rhinos, wart hogs, several types of antelope, ostriches, some other animals of which names I’m unsure of, and at last a couple of 1-year old cheetahs. We were able to walk into a large fenced area to pet and play with the cheetahs. They were very friendly, licking people, purring loudly (10x a house cat’s purr), and chasing balls around their “play pen.” What a unique experience. It’s not every day you get to drive by rhinos and play with cheetahs.
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Lectures: During the week we attend lectures in the mornings at NMMU, all ranging from South African history, community involvement, the local language, and Social Entrepreneurship.
A woman spoke to us about community development and what it means opposed to community service. Basically, the idea is that community development is more effective and generally works better for improving impoverished communities. People within those areas—mainly townships here—are able to create positive sustainable change and progress in their communities through their own recognition of a need for progression along with working towards this goal themselves.
Under the Apartheid the term “Township” came to mean a residential development which confined non-whites—blacks, colored people, and indigenous peoples—who lived near or worked in white-only communities. The apartheid period was between 1948 and 1988. This period is best characterized by the Nationalist Party seizing political control and denying other ethnicities their basic human rights—forcing some of them into labor, exiling them to townships, and assuring whites retained utmost political power. Whites were allowed 4 votes compared to 3 for colored people and 2 for Indians. This historical background is immense, but this may give some small idea as to what conditions many South African are living in. The segregation and social dichotomy is still ever present within many of the areas, especially seen in P.E. which is considered the poorest city in the country.
During one lecture we received a quick rundown in the local language, Xhosa, meaning “people.” It’s predominance in the Eastern Cape, Western Cape, and Northern Cape make Xhosa the second most spoken language in South Africa (18% of the 42 million people of South Africa use it). Xhosa must be pronounced using 3 different click sounds, one at each c, q, and x, so learning how to properly speak it well is no easy task. Contact with other languages like English and Africaans has also influenced the structure of the language.
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Soooo…onward with my adventure: We made a trip out to the townships our first Thursday, having a bus take us through several different townships and different communities, kids and people playing in around the neighborhoods, and “smiley’s” cooking on street corners. A cow’s head cooks in a fire pit—during the slow burn, the skin on the cow’s head shrinks and pulls the mouth into a smiling position, hence the name smiley’s.
We stopped at the Red Location Museum in the middle of one of the townships. It may seem to a passerby that the large amounts of money going into such a large museum could be better invested in better infrastructure within the communities, but the museum brings outsiders into the township allowing many people to become aware of the conditions and circumstances that the people live in. A library is planned right next to the museum as well which will help some, placing emphasis on the value of education.
The next stop: for some beer at a tiny bar, killing some time for a prepared meal at a restaurant called Jazz, where we were welcomed with chicken, pork and beef sausages, pap which is corn that is cheap and fills you up (pretty tasteless and usually eaten with a type of sauce), rice and beans, some sautéed vegetables, and an invitation for more beer at the bar. There, Miss Port Elizabeth gave us a welcoming speech to the city containing her appreciation for our stay and involvement with IMBEWU.
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IMBEWU is in fact the Non-profit NGO we are all working with during our time over here. In an overall sense, the trip is a South African Social Development Program offered by the Center for Organizational Research (CORe—a research center within the institute of Management and Faculty of Economics at the Universita della Svizzera italiana) and collaborating with NMMU and IMBEWU. This is why part of our time consists of lectures at NMMU while the other half is community service and development related work through our internship with IMBEWU.
IMBEWU actually started in Switzerland, now extending its branch in South Africa. IMBEWU South Africa aims to address the negative forces that impact South African youths. Overall activities here are impacting nearly 3,000 youngsters, encouraging social empowerment and responsible citizenship through effective and sustainable child/youth focused educational, health, sports, and culture and volunteerism programs. We attend some meetings at the office in town but mainly work with kids at the Dan Quae stadium. The word IMBEWU has to do with a seed planted and nourished for maximum growth, a growth symbolic for the intended growth designed for the kids empowered through the programs.
Grassroots soccer came to the stadium during the first week, using the game of soccer to educate the children about the risks associated with HIV/AIDS. During our time with the kids we play basketball, soccer and tennis with them, taking them through any drills we know as well as playing some pick-up games. The first part of the day is oriented around some games that the kids know, as well as some casual scrimmages. The kids eat some soup made from some mamas in the townships. The kids will often eat butter or peanut butter on bread when soup is not an option.
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Now that I’ve give you the run-down on all of the logistics, I may well describe my living situation. Garrett and Anna are my two roomies and they’re the shit. We cook meals together, eat together, lounge together, play games together, drink wine together and even sleep together—well actually we don’t, but experiencing so much with these two can’t possibly mean we haven’t been getting close. For instance, Garrett and I make sure to awaken Anna with tribal music whenever possible produced from our newly acquired instruments from the arts festival, djembes. Also, because I manage to get out of bed later than each of them most mornings, they sometimes make me PB&J sandwiches and I thank them for that. Many times we are run errands independently, but return with gifts for each other such as chocolate, water, and batteries. We’ve gotta fuel that 7 dollar speaker we use for jammin’ somehow.
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Second Weekend: On our first free Saturday, we headed off again with some car rentals 1 hour and 30 out to Grahamstown. Luckily, we were able to catch the National Arts Festival where dancers, singers, and artists around the country showcase their talents and skills. We headed to a huge market where drummers and entertainers walked between huge tents full of pretty much anything and everything part of South African culture.
After moving through thick crowds of people scurrying from vendor to vendor, we attended a Russian and South African collaboration of dance called Zebra. 5 men went through some highly precise and perfected movements in hope of unveiling masculine identity. As the committee put it, “the work explores our need to need and our need to be needed, our conflicting desires and pursuits for belonging and isolation. This is a world in which the overriding desire to dominate and assert power results in a nonsensical relationship between cause and effect.”
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Next 2 shows: One man came up to us at the ticket office offering free passes to his magic show. We ended up going to that, some heading to a comedy show. It was fairly entertaining, mostly consisting of illusions displays of the power and delicacy of the human mind. At the final venue Busi Mhlongo sang some traditional Zulu with mixes with a type of jazz, funk, gospel and reggae. Getting a taste of African culture at its finest made our trip most definitely worthwhile.
Sunday: The Billabong Pro 2009—but with no surfers. The Tournament started July 11, but the waves were weak so the competition didn’t start until the following day (5 out of 7 days make up the entire competition depending on when weather permits). We did, however happen to catch a gorgeous day on the beach, throwing the Frisbee, and taking an ass-ton of pictures. Walskippers is a restaurant right on the beach without walls, sand as the floor, and all types of seafood sizzling on grills outside. We had some fine African wine, amazing calamari and homemade bread to top it off.
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After some lectures Monday – Wednesday (more Xhosa culture, South African history and an introduction to Africaans culture) we worked with IMBEWU at the stadium. Monday, we headed the camp with a focus in leadership and defining qualities of it through games and some talks. We played some soccer and basketball with the kids after lunch and witnessed some traditional dances demonstrated by a few of the girls during Tuesday’s cultural day. The weather was super windy and cold, so we called the day early but the kids were showing us some typical games played during their time spent at the camp as well.
After the dances and at the end of the day, everyone became camera-fanatical. The children love getting their picture taken and taking pictures. They love to look in the viewfinder after the shot is taken and seeing themselves. I’ve never seen so much enjoyment come from a camera in my life. It was great to see them all enjoy the simple features and to look through the pictures already on the camera. Each picture taken was followed by smiles and laughs as well as some tugging hands at an aim to be the next provisional photographer.
A guy doing his own volunteer work in South Africa, Andy, works with IMBEWU in Switzerland and sponsored a school painting project for primary school students. During part of our time here we are painting a school in one of the townships, so some of our days consist of fixing up the school with some good ol’ fashioned paint and refinishing.
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I’m beat after a long weekend and I’m sure I can vouch for others as well—it looks like we won’t be catching up on the time difference during our time here. Every day is full of activities with a bright an early start to each day, so many times you can find us resting our heads for short sleeps in the early p.m., hitting couches hard and napping during our bus rides to and fro. We’ll take three days back in Port Elizabeth for some lectures and work with IMBEWU then hit the road again for a 9-hour journey to Cape Town.
How can we be so damn tired having so much fun? I mean after our days back in P.E. we take it pretty easy occupying our time with card games, occasional movies on mm1 which plays them nonstop, reading, planning for upcoming days, trips, and preparing meals full of vegetables, rice, eggs, sometimes a fish filet and a newfound love, pesto. We’ve enjoyed a couple wine and cheese gatherings too, many more planned as well. So, that’s leisure time.
Alright, I’m getting to it—our next trip on the road: long days of such plus the early starts and late ends of Thursday through Sunday. Our trip began Thursday, departing at 8 en route for Grahamstown again to meet an excellent storyteller, Alan Weyers. He was raised on a farm and found a keen interest in how and why people became to be how they are—how they were living, obtaining food, and generally relating to each other. So he proceeded to give a long historical backdrop, first setting the scene in the early 1400s. His talk was great—storytelling at its best. This was one of the best takes on explaining how culture is so interlocked among so many different peoples, languages and customs. He went on to explain the 8 great wars including British settlers arriving with ambition, disease and a never-before seen governing system. I could delve into detail but that wouldn’t quite do justice to the explanation that I received.
Continuing on, we made our way over to the Musical Instrument Museum across town where we were introduced to traditional African instruments made of indigenous and other wood types. These ranged from djembes and other large drums to marimbas, karimbas and xylophones. Some other ones, I cannot recall the names of. Three of the guys there gave us an awesome demonstration of their musical talent and the sound of marimbas. The sound had a beach feel mixed with strong bass, just an influx of reverberation for your eardrums. I think I immediately wanted every instrument in the museum after their melodic display.
Oh, and on the way to Grahamstown we stopped at a farmer’s market which sold all kinds of bread, meat pies, nuts, dried fruit, fresh juice, milk, homemade marmalade and jams, jerky, and cookies and other desserts. Most of us indulged ourselves with their signature egg, bacon and cheese sandwich on a hot roll.
2 hours further on the bus we arrived at Hogsback hotel/bed and breakfast. The temperature was freezing, and this fact was reinforced by children screaming “ice! Ice!” and running around picnic tables. Even the inside of the B&B was chilling. Central heating is something South Africans don’t seem to utilize, the reason most likely being that summer weather is sweltering. We had our warmest clothes on while gallivanting inside. Our first stop was actually a huge room full of coaches sitting next to an open fire and a table sitting close to the door, people ravaging for a full cup of coffee or tea. We bundled up for a bit and decided our next best option after several cups hot drinks was a few drinks of cold beer and wine.
Our living quarters were quite luxurious, despite the cold feel, bar included. We half-way reached our goal of warming up, even after Marchello rang the bar bell, instantly becoming obligated to buy a round for all. Luckily, there were only 5 of us excluding Vincent the friendly straight-edge bartender, not drinking due to preparation for the academy. He was to become a navy pilot. Shortly thereafter, we were called for dinner—a beef stew with vegetables and rice and apple pie for dessert.
Back to the bar…We got to know our fellow companions better: six students from Cincinnati, Ohio. I learned a new card game famous only in the Midwestern US called yukor. It was confusing as shit, but after getting the hang of it I realized why it was popular among Midwestern folk. As each of us slowly faded and one by one retreated to bed, we bailed our game and jumped under layers of blankets including an electric heated one.
Of course Anna and Brittany stole our space heater ;), and we (Marchello, Garrett and I) do not forgive them for that. But our beds were so full of heat from the blankets that we really can’t complain. At about 7:30 a.m. we headed to the dining room, breakfast waiting. A couple cups of coffee, a bowl of cereal, fruit and yogurt then a full egg, bacon and salsa course down and we were ready to trek down the mountain again.
I think it was about 1 hour until we reached Fort Hare University, an all black school. This day was pretty dull, honestly. Most of us felt our time was a bit wasted with the plans set in stone, plans set by NMMU. These plans included more random talks from a few people at the university. Everyone seems to think it’s necessary to give an entire background on how South Africa came to be in its current state. Most of the people seem to be proud of their history and how far the country has come. But after talk after talk after talk about the same story, we felt a bit over exhausted with the same information. People here repeatedly expressed how proud they were of Nelson Mandela and his accomplishments. They regard him as the best statesmen in world history and for good reasons. His achievements are undoubtedly extraordinary.
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This may be one disadvantage with partnering with NMMU, in that some of our activities seem to be just planned for the sake of putting us through standard routine as newcomers to the country its culture; I felt a bit pulled around like a dumb tourist on this day. Basically, I feel like we could have gotten a more valuable experience by just planning something independently and getting to know locals. In fact, this was the case come Friday night.
So after we meandered around the campus and then around a shopping center for lunch, we spent the next 4 hours on the bus heading for the farm. Originally, we were told the farm was about 40 kilometers away, but somehow our guide managed to off-track us by 3 hours. We were all a little winy at the 3 hour mark, complaining a bit but also enjoying a box of wine as well. This was a good idea at the time, making some of the lectures from our history buff of a guide more tolerable (the professor from Cincinnati teaches history as well so we were taken to all of these historical landmarks indifferently). But as time dwindled on, our bladders were taking an enormous stress toll as the bus with possibly the worst suspension imaginable literally lifted us off of our seats as we rolled up and down extremely rough and windy roads.
We were all bad tempered including the bus driver who was getting pretty ticked because he was to “do exactly as told” if he wanted to get paid. More than a few times, the van leading everyone just drove ahead leaving us behind with no directions and idea of where we were going. We must have turned around 4 times, and I’m pretty sure we took one wrong left turn at a fork in the road that led us 1 hour out of the way. On top of all of this, we were all under the impression that we were making a pit-stop to another historical site for a 10 minute short lecture which we had zero interest in. The guy giving the talk was also obtained a false notion that we were all history majors, making sure to deliver his speeches in a thorough manner. Complaining was actually fun and enjoyable, a platform to relieve ourselves from the seemingly ridiculous situation.
Arrival: We meet some of the nicest people you can come across. However, their friendly gestures gradually turned into what you might say no person ever wishes to bear through. To start we ended up getting onto the farm around 7 p.m. Bitching turned into one super warm welcome into what felt like home. We were greeted with hugs, beer, great wine and company, and an introduction to the farm. What I mean by an introduction may not be quite what you are thinking. This actually was some small talk topped off with porcupine quiche, some chips, dip and lamb testicles.
The man of the house, Maunis, quite the character I might add, made sure to make our dining experience most memorable by bringing out a plate of crackers topped with “mushrooms.” At first glance one might believe such claims even after tasting and swallowing every last portion. But what was later revealed to us was that palettes had been fooled unknowingly by what was really tripe—the intestines—and testicles of lambs. This is not usually a common food eaten by Maunis and his wife Winnie but brought out to us on special occasion and the purpose of their own personal humor.
You’d think that the tricks would end there, but later Maunis handed the girls some cute and furry lamb tail cut straight off the source earlier in the day. A few yelps followed his offering as soon as blood became visible and noticeably stained in the first adorable “rabbit’s foots.” After embracing the crude humor, a quick photo-shoot followed then the tails were tossed in an open fire, which also served to heat human bodies and cook vegetable and chicken stew in what was called a glorified pot or cauldron you might say.
After our delicious appetizers we met our end of the night with a full meal including the stew, a vegetable casserole, more tripe, beans, garlic bread, potatoes, and of course some more beer. We filled up quickly, and only a few more made it back for seconds and thirds. The food was incredible. It was near impossible not to indulge yourself indefinitely. As I made my own second trip, the chefs welcomed me in the kitchen with more than I could handle for a second plate which included lamb tongue–pretty good, a little chewy. It was hard to eat thinking of what I was actually eating as well.
To sum, it was Thanksgiving literally times 2. Our hosts, although appearing in great shape, may be best described as gluttons, not seeming to understand the concept of full. In fact, we were bullied for not taking more portions each time one was finished. I never before thought food abuse actually existed. What I like to call food brutality aside, the dinner was more than anyone could have asked for. We were in great hands receiving exceptional hospitality. You could say the food was great, but the people were even better.
Feeling slightly inclined to fall into a food coma I fought my body’s impulses and headed for the fire again for another beer. Only the guys were left because the girls caught a ride to their mansion 10 miles out a bit after our feast was over. The house was not quite a mansion but was still huge nonetheless and eloquently furnished. We discovered this the next day after some more food abuse in the morning including eggs, tomatoes, potatoes, plenty of coffee and tea, juice, and sausage with a pretty outstanding chutney that I’m definitely finding and taking home—basically everything necessary to cure a short sleep and slight hangover which I’m about to get to (*food abuse = good).
So as we were all enjoying one last drink (or so we thought) our group’s spirit began to slowly diminish as the night got later. Maunis’s son Ben came down from Stellenbosh which is located about 30 minutes from Cape Town—it was a 9 hour drive for him to the farm. He brought 2 friends, one of which having a girlfriend. We made some small talk and one thing led to another, us all getting wrapped up in some interesting conversation about South African culture from a local standpoint. In fact, I almost prefer this to the usual spiels you get from universities and tours. They all seemed to think the same claiming they could give a better idea of what life was like in the country if we would just hang around them for a night.
So we did. Or I did. Cal and Mike, the guys from Cincinnati lasted for awhile, but hit the bed around 12:30 latest. Garrett ended up staying up for a couple more hours and I ended up hitting the sack around 4 a.m. It wasn’t what I wanted sleep-wise but gaining a perspective from some guys our age was a nice break to the usual. Our conversations were facilitated by a South African favorite and classic, Brandy and coke. We talked some politics, geography, and generally how school systems worked here and in the US. They told me about what life was like at their university which is located right next to the most famous wineries in the country, supposedly just a beautiful area.
They were talking about how many of the people they came into contact in the US while visiting were generally closed minded and less knowledgeable about US foreign policy than many of the people outside of the country. I won’t vouch for his point but the more I travel outside of my own country the more I realize how “made” we have it there. We all live in our own little bubble and have everything we need in the more developed areas naturally becoming less inclined to seek such knowledge. So many Americans take for granted one of the greatest freedoms we have in our country, that is the right to vote, and don’t even know why we’re choosing candidates for office. I think people outside of our country become more critical of this fact because those decisions weigh heavily on the world stage since the US has such a large influence being the number 1 power.
Anyways, on another note, it was Nelson Mandela’s birthday starting early that morning of July 18. I also learned a few words in Africaans, which was their first language. I’m unsure how to spell them but one was a backie which is pronounced buck-ie. I bring that up because it’s the name of the vehicle we rode all over the place in later that day (after I got that solid 4 hours of sleep). It’s essentially a pick-up truck with a cage or bars for holding on. I’m pretty sure it’s usually used for collecting hay but we got some great use of it having passengers hold onto the bars for stability. The language has a Germanic root so I was able to pick up some of the slang which is also highly prevalent. Some phrases are almost directly translated into English. For example, hand in warm water is “handinwarmwater” pronounced v’s on the w’s. Thank you very much is “buyadonkie.” I’m sure there are some spaces in there but I’m not sure where. I’ll leave it at that since I’m sure I already butchered the spelling.
So after our delicious breakfast, we went straight to milking. There were cows lined up in a pavilion-type enclosure. One of the workers was right to it, having all the cows hooked up to some milking machinery. We all took turns going through the motions. I’ve officially milked a cow before! And to add, I’ve officially drank milk straight from the source. I definitely didn’t start my day thinking I’d be drinking milk the freshest it gets straight from the source. We then played with some baby lambs and herded them into the correct pen.
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Turkeys and ducks were roaming around and we received some nuzzling from the 350 kilogram elon (there are 2.5 kg in a lb). An elon is pretty much like a horse but way cooler. The one we petted was called Tiny. He was super nice and had no problem with licking hands, faces and clothing although the occasional piece of garment would get tugged by his occasional nibbling. After some time at that farm we headed off to visit a historical site where baboons were residing. We got a glimpse of them there but only by backside. One minute you see a furry silhouette casted on some bushes, the next a blue butt floating across the grass-line.
The history lesson wasn’t all exciting but our stick fighting was. We stopped for lunch right next to the site intending on following our group (Garrett, Anna, and I) but we easily became distracted by our easily entertained minds—the group proceeded to the cliff for a talk while the three of us became enthralled by Anna’s effort at capturing a pine cone mid-way up a pine tree. Her endeavor was met with no success, the pine cone too stiff to budge. So we lost our crowd but not to worry, we occupied ourselves with wandering, playing with sticks and climbing trees—back to the roots.
Once reunited with everyone we returned back to the farms, but this time taking a turn at that “mansion” I spoke of earlier. Here we almost immediately jumped into the backie heading for a barn where we became cultured with the process of obtaining wool: sheering sheep. This was interesting but somewhat cruel for the subject. He was the easiest catch out of his fellow ram friends and the only odd-ball out to get his shave before October, the usual time for sheering. Unfortunately the process finished with him peeing himself, stomping his back leg and preparing to endure the winter without his thick coat. The coat is really soft and there is surely a difference in quality depending on the sheep. This guy’s case was good; his wool had thin fibers and a soft feel.
We finished there, heading back to the large house where we caught a big rugby match, drank some tea and coffee and ate 3 amazing homemade pies—chocolate, lemon, and cream (trust me, they tasted much better than they sound). Also, we played some tennis on their private court next to their private pool—this place was nice. The owner showed us his trophy room and rifle room having just about every type of antelope and other game hanging on the wall. There was also a boar, some birds, and a full giraffe. He told us about the process of killing these animals as well and the money you have to pay to do it. They’re big hunters around this area.
More company showed up: friends of friends and some local hunters. We continued to watch some rugby then a cricket match and mingled around the living room and fire with some fine wine and beer. The owner was a wine connoisseur, letting us taste some of his finer loves. After some long chat we had another amazing feast—amazing steak, more potatoes, vegetable dishes, a mushroom sauce, and some really tasty marmalades. No one could have just one plate. After our meal we took a long ride on a backie searching for some wild game at night. The cold weather took the energy out of everyone and I was just about asleep after we returned to some tea and coffee. Goodnight.
That just about sums our trip there. We woke to some breakfast sandwiches and juice and said our goodbyes to Winnie who was one of the nicest women I’ve met. She is full of joy and fun, making sure everyone is happy—when we arrived her greetings made us swear she was our second mother. Then we jumped on the backie one last time for a ride to the top one of the mountains where we overlooked a quarry, some rolling hills, grazing horses and tons of ant farms—more than I have ever seen in my life.
This followed by some intense off-roading down the hillside to a nice view from a cliff. We made our way down to the river in sight and played around in a swimming hole. The drought is the worst it’s been in the longest time, so the water level was really low. The stream leading to it was also dried out, but it was a great little hike to the spot. We also stopped by a little fenced area full of baby lambs at some point along our way to and fro. This is worthy of note because 50 baby lambs crying/calling/moaning for their mother’s milk is probably one of the funniest, weirdest, happiest things ever. I have a great video of this:
***LAMB VIDEO
After the hike, we said our goodbyes again and Shaddly the bus driver led us 3-4 hours back to P.E. We slept the majority of it. It was nice to get some down-time back at Langerry Apartments. We caught some early shut-eye and got a much-needed 9 hours of rest.
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To sum our 3 days up of the next week, as I write on this Wednesday, 22 July, we had one lecture from the same woman teaching about entrepreneurship then took a tour of the townships again, this time stopping by a pre-school, primary school, high school, and then finally to a pub for a beer. Monday was the start of the new school year after the winter holiday break so all kids were back on the grind. The pre-school kids were pretty adorable; we stopped in as they lined the floor taking naps and drooling some. Their artwork was spectacular—red and blues painted all over a blank paper with a square in the middle. They did a superb job coloring outside of the lines. I swear cameras are magnetically attracted to the kids at primary school.
The lecture on social entrepreneurship was actually really good. While learning about the concept itself we also learned about the country and its problems with declining infrastructure, corruption at higher-order levels and the ever increasing inadequately educated workforce which is the most problematic factor for doing business here in South Africa. 6.7 million people have AIDS which is a huge problem because so many people are dying creating a severe lack of necessary skills. Essentially, we learned that entrepreneurship is about mastering the ability to think holistically but ultimately creatively, tweaking everyday common ideas by looking at them differently then moving to enhance or improve that in order to improve human life. That’s a super summarized version, but you can get the idea of what the lecture entailed.
The rest of our time has been spent talking to staff members at IMBEWU about the organization and getting an idea for how we can work with them most efficiently. Basically, our job now is to develop a marketing plan for them that aims at publicizing there name in the best way possible plus creating new methods of fundraising that ultimately can be sustainable for the organization. I’ll delve into that more here when I delve into it more next week.
During the afternoon we have been going to the schools and teaching the children English. Some of us went to the pre-schools and basically played games with the kids, watched them take naps, and dodged the ones that peed themselves—4 of us did that. I went to the high school with Garrett, Anna, Sally and Catelyn teaching 8th grade English the first day and 10th grade English the second. We have all been really enjoying this, reading stories and talking with the kids about vocabulary, comprehension and pronunciation.
The students are great. The 8th graders are a bit shy but they opened up towards the end while the 10th graders are a fun group to have, them making jokes and having fun but taking their work serious and having respect for us teachers. At the end of the day we had some fun playing 7-up after we finished with the reading. On the first day of this, the whole classroom of kids was singing, there was some dancing and solo singing as well. Today, we received Xhosa names from some of the students: Anna is Zitle meaning beautiful, Garrett is Thembekile meaning faithful, and I am Mangaliso meaning surprise. This is probably because I came into the class the 2nd day we were teaching unexpectedly, Anna and Garrett both returning.
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Cape Town: Starting our day off at 5:30 a.m., we grabbed our packs and headed for the airport to pick up our car rentals. Plans to set out early for our 8 hour drive to the Western Cape turn into a 2 hour debacle at the airport and a late start for our voyage. Pretty much everything possible went wrong that morning when we left to pick up the cars. It wasn’t all so terrible because it was funny how ridiculous things turned out:
Brittany forgot to find out which dealer we rented out so we had to run up and down the trail of dealers asking each associate if we were on their list. We were on no one’s list. One of the dealer’s we thought we rented through was late opening so we waited for them. No go. Finally, we found the right one only by the secretary acknowledging the fact that or reservation was for 2010. The woman working there was running around asking if other dealers had a car to rent because they had nothing. Brittany was punching herself in the face for making a dumb mistake, but thankfully it was autoeurope.com’s fault. Relief kicks in.
Then finally the process gets moving. The dealer, Budget, gives permission to the associate she is able to release two cars. A little more relief follows. The cars are about to be signed over when the exchange is halted by the fact that the driver must sign the contract in order for the cars’ release. Ashley and Clara were the two drivers chosen online for this job and chosen for the reason they have both aged above 23 unlike any of us. So that was for safety precautions. Ashley is present, Clara is asleep back at the apartments. I then jump in Ashley’s car with Garrett to pick up Clara so we can get the hell out P.E. Keep in mind the time of day here. We arrive at Langerry apartments. Clara seems to have no problem despite the disruption. We need her passport. Her passport is locked at the main desk until 8 a.m. She spends the next 15 minutes searching for her copy. No find so we risk it and head back to the dealer.
Thankfully, they took her driver’s license instead, although this could be trouble if something happens because all dealers are required to have identification through a passport. It’s almost over, even after a couple credit cards get rejected (the attendant was laughing in awe at how literally nothing was going right). Each driver must be 21 in order to be covered by insurance. Garrett and Brittany have birthdays in September. Anna, Ashley, and myself get stuck with driving the whole way because there are more fees for additional drivers. We are students, screw that. At 8:30 a.m. we end up leaving P.E. for our destination—it starts down-pouring. All in all, renting cars is really fun especially with all of the low risk involved…
Our car ride consisted of some car games and jamming to crappy South African music for about 7 hours. The music down here is a little behind, much of the songs dating back years ago with some good ones here and there. We found an Indian station which suited our ears nicely for a good portion of time. After the rain ceased after about 3-4 hours into the ride, the trees and small plant life were bristling on the far-stretching landscape. Misty clouds floated over the grasslands amidst occasional beaming sunlight which created rich hues of green and blue. There were a few yellow patches scattered nearby as we trucked through long stretches of road.
Highways here are great because you can travel as fast as you want. Pretty much no one follows traffic laws, running stop signs, speeding and doing shifty maneuvers. Police hardly enforce the laws of the road and traffic moves forward on the left side as opposed to right. You could say it’s dangerous, but most of everyone takes fair enough precaution. There are cameras that take snapshots of license plates at some speed limit signs. They are all marked though, so it’s clear when you need to check yourself.
As we approached Cape Town, the view on top of the mountain was stunning. You could see the vast ocean and African tail-end curl into the distance. The city sprawls out from the coastline. We checked into our hostel, Cape Town Backpackers around 5:00-5:30 p.m. getting a fairly nice 10-person room with the 8 of us total. The hostel automatically upgraded us to private so we could have our own personal space free of strangers. We settled in, caught the last 30 minutes of the market, got paraded with hagglers, and then walked up and down one of the more busy streets, Long Street, searching for a solid place to dine.
Some quick advice and consulting led us to a burger joint called Royale. This place rocked. We had great friendly service, some good vibes and some of the best burgers ever. The restaurant focused on gourmet burger toppings, choice of red meat, chicken, awesome vegetable burgers and all types of fish. I split my meal with Anna: a chicken burger topped with brie cheese and homemade cranberry jam and a beef burger topped with sautéed vegetables, mozzarella and a sundried tomato pesto—seriously the best burger(s) of my life.
Most of us were beat from the drive so we grabbed a couple more beers at an Irish pub called the Dubliner, caught a glimpse of a soccer game played at the new Olympic Stadium where Clara and Marchello were, and then hit the sack after Garrett and I took a short trip to the bar at our hostel with some of the wine we had brought ourselves. It was hat night, so we grabbed a few different boaters off the wall and joined the fun. We met a guy from England who told us about a couple who had arrived at that hostel from a 6-month road trip starting at the northernmost part of Africa finally ending up exactly where we landed earlier that day.
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Friday, 24 July: We left our hostel around 9 a.m. heading for Stellenbosch located in one of Cape Town’s most beautiful vicinities. Our tour guide met us at 10 a.m. outside of Bonne Esperance, our B&B for the upcoming night. We were about to embark on a 7- hour tour of South Africa’s finest vineyards. Finally, I could gain some type of knowledge on how to properly taste wine. I certainly gained a better understanding of the types I most enjoy.
Our first stop was Takara, second La Bri, third Moreson, finally ending at Morgenhof. We tried a couple Sauvignon Blancs which are white wines, sometimes characterized by tropical fruit and/or zesty pepper flavors. We tasted an interesting Red at Takara which was blended with Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Petit Verdot—intense aromas that overload your nose and palate. Others, like the Stellenbosch Chardonnay (white) and Shiraz (red) had smoky flavors coming straight from the barrel. We learned that much of the flavor of a wine can come from the type of wood used in the barrel when the wine ages and sits in storage, and some of the toasty oak used added a nicely integrated light accent. Also, the lighter the red wines the older, the darker the younger and vice versa for the whites. Some wines tasted bitter and super dry but with olives and red meats they are incredible. We tried some olives with a Cab, and when the salts and vinegar mixed in, the chemical reaction produced a flavor to die for. My favorites ended up coming from Moreson—the white Chenin Blanc with aromas of pear, white peach and apple and the Pinotage (no. 1) which is unique to South Africa, a deep ink color plum, black cherry and hints of dark chocolate and coffee on the nose (5-8 years from vintage). Lastly we tried a port wine, the Cape Vintage, which was a Portuguese dessert wine—super sweet, really different and surely a taste to acquire in the future.
It was a solid day. The weather was gorgeous and we were feeling real nice after day’s end. We got back to the B&B and had some fruit from our dining room, took a nap and relaxed peacefully as the only guests inside such a quaint lodge.
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We woke up early again in order to make way to Africa’s southernmost region, Cape Point. Fortunately, the weather was auspicious so our short 1.5 hour drive turned out quite pleasant. One stop at a “penguin sanctuary,” and our nostrils were flooded with hints of raw and rotten fish, poop and penguin love-making. To our surprise, the dirty little creatures were dirty little creatures. Cute you might expect from pictures, but they are actually quite filthy rolling around in their feces, snacking on fish and fornicating under bushes. No worries, a quick waddle to the edge of a rock, maybe a tumble here and there on the way, and off with the stench. For this reason viewing of the penguins that were closer to the coast was more enjoyable compared to the ones loitering around a passing wooden bridge through their brush area.
A few pit-stops later we were overlooking coastlines and cliff drops we arrived at the base of the small hike up to Cape Point’s rock face. There, baboons greeted our arrival with slight scorning looks as if we were concealing a thousand meals. A family gang of baboons passed us on our way in, their primate brothers pacing from trashcan to trashcan to snacking human. I’m pretty positive some were picking their noses on the cliffs. Most of them were friendly but only when content with whatever scraps were slowly grinding between their teeth. Still, their eyes wandered relentlessly for the next food target…me.
Actually, we walked up to the lighthouse first to enjoy the view and cool sea breeze, then climbed down a steep pass to a trail to make it furthest south possible. We hung around for a bit enjoying the incredible views, and then made our way back to parking and the cars to meet everyone for lunch and departure to our next destination. I grabbed a muffin and apple and Garrett and I headed to find spot to sit and relax. I said, “How about over here.” Literally less than a second later I turned the corner of a nearby van close to the bushes only to be caught in a chase between Mr. Ape and his hungry eyes. He was quick too. It probably took me about 30-40 yards to lose him because I was not surrendering my only food for the next 4 hours or so. Now I could fully appreciate the signs scattered throughout the surrounding area cautioning tourists about the dangerous tendencies of baboons. We had a good laugh then met up at around 3:00 p.m. heading back to Cape Town for a glimpse at the market, some wine at the hostel and dinner at 7:30 at Mama Africa.
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Mama Africa was unique for its intricate decoration, live music and exotic meats—Warthog stew, Springbok steak, Ostrich steak, Crocodile kebabs and the catch of the day, yellowtail which quite possibly made Anna and the toilet best friends the next day (most of us had had some bad reactions to the food or something the next day, holding everyone back from nailing our plan to hike Table Mountain early next morning). The food was pretty amazing. Ostrich steak has a flavorful taste maybe more so than cow meat, maybe different thought. The springbok pretty much just tastes like venison and the crocodile and warthog was tough but still delicious, and our bottle of Chenin Blanc from the vineyards complimented very nicely with the rice, sauces, and other sides. The band called Marimba Vibrations added a great African feel to our dining experience.
We headed over to a Cuban bar on the second story, had some drinks and then made it over to a club down the street. After a few hours of dancing our meal off we made it back to the hostel at about 2 a.m.: a perfect set-up for the next day’s hike…we woke up around 9 and made it downtown for a quick breakfast and the market, leaving barely enough time for our original plan to get up the mountain. Everyone was pretty exhausted, hung-over and feeling sick from whatever bug hit everyone that morning. The breakfast place we made it to had some great hangover food: eggs, sausage, cheese sandwiches, yogurt and fruit smoothies, vitamin water, and vegetable sandwiches. However, none of this worked in our favor; everyone was in no mood or condition to climb a mountain.
We were running out of time—it was 11:30 and we wanted to leave no later than 3 p.m. because an 8 hour drive is no fun when you’re exhausted. FINISH WRITING (MNT HIKE, 9 HOURS BACK, ANOTHER WEEK, P.E., THEN TO US)
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