From "the Coldest" to "the Chido!"

After almost four of the most memorable weeks of my life, we have left the western cape of South Africa and one of my favorite places, Cape Town, to visit the rest of the Country. As I have learned in these past five days, although Cape Town is marvelous, beautiful, and impressive, it really does not encompass the true reality and identity of the rest of South Africa. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, but it is really different than the rest of the country. Our trip followed almost the exact same root that, hundreds of years earlier, the Afrikaner Voortrek(k)ers did, going from Sutherland, to Kimberly, and then finally to Pretoria where the Voortrek(k)ers made their most monumental stand at creating Afrikaner nationalism. We have had limited internet access the last couple of days, so this will be a long one. Get some popcorn or chicharones! Unfortunately, this damn computer won't let me upload pictures, so I will show you all later.

Sutherland was, literally, an out of this world experience! Sutherland is a small town about three hours away from Cape Town in the middle of the Karoo semi-desert, which is arid place with little water and rocks everywhere. Although Sutherland is known for being the coldest place in South Africa, damn it was cold!, it is also a popular tourist destination because it houses the biggest telescope in the southern hemisphere, Southern Africa’s Largest Telescope (SALT). Not only does Sutherland have SALT, but it also has a really impressive conglomeration of other telescopes. Being the VIPs that we are we were able to get a private guided tour of the skies. I have never seen a sky so dark and full of stars; the Milky Way was so clear and the stars so bright—it was insane! Funny story, as we huddled to keep warm (remember, coldest place in SA) someone tried to take a picture, but it was so dark that the flash blinded us all for about 2 minutes—that’s how dark it was! Unfortunately, we weren’t supposed to take pictures, so I don’t have any of the amazing sky. But, to make you even more jealous, we got to see in the telescope! We saw a group of stars 17,000 light-years away, that means that the image I saw is 17,000 light-years away, crazy! We also got to see Jupiter. Not a picture or digital image, but the actual thing. It was an amazing experience I won’t soon forget. Seeing something so big really makes you humble.

After our trip to the coldest and coolest place in the universe (corny!), we made our way to the “bling bling capitol of the world,” Kimberly. If you know anything about diamonds then you have to know about Kimberly. Kimberly is the host town of “The Big Hole,” the biggest man made hole in the world (215 meters deep and 1.7 km wide) which was actually a diamond mine. Although “The Big Hole” is now closed and flooded, in entirety it produced 14,504,566 diamonds, weighing 2,722 Kg. That’s a lot of bling ya’ll. This is also were the De Beers diamond company started, aka the top dog in diamond sales. In the museum we got to see actual diamonds as well as replicas of some of the largest “rocks” in the world. I am not a generally a jewelry or diamond fan, but DAMN these rocks really made my jaw drop. Wholly cow there were some giant diamonds in that place. Funny to think that the first diamond in this place was found by a random kid on the river, which was later given away to by the mother who assumed it was just a simple worthless rock. I bet she felt stupid. Its funny how many things in history occur by chance. One thing I did notice in the museum is that it largely ignored the history of oppression and violence toward the black mine workers. I guess it makes sense that this museum is sponsored by the largest diamond company in the world.

After Sutherland we made our way to our next destination Pretoria, the smaller sister city of the notorious Johannesburg. I would have preferred to stay in “Jo-burg,” but I hear the crime is quite...challenging. Anyway, we will be in Pretoria for the next couple of days (until Thursday to be exact... thanks Darrell). Our first day in Pretoria was quite mellow; we got here at nine, so I went straight to bed after a cold dinner. Our second day, however, was probably one of my favorite days on our trip so far as we visited the Nelson Mandela Foundation (NMF) and the South African Congressional court (both in Cape Town). The NMF is the organization that organizes Madiba’s (Mandela) public life and it is also the place where he has his office! Being in this space really made me like I was getting to know Madiba on a more intimate level because not only was I hanging out where he works and is on a regular basis but I got to see the gifts he gets and the actual journals he wrote. I got to see his hand-writing. This may not seem like a big deal, but for some reason seeing the physical spaces he inhabits makes him seem more real, more intimate.

After visiting the NMF, we made our way to the South African Congressional Court. This court is nothing like I have ever seen. It integrates African history and new world order; it really is a symbol of the way South Africa has healed and reunited after Apartheid. The building itself is inside an old Afrikaner fort in Jo-burg, so even though it is inside a colonially historical space, the building itself is meant to represent the African justice system, which took place under the largest tree of a village. Nothing in this building is taken for granted. The art, the structure itself, even the chairs all mean something, namely equality. For example, there are 11 justices in the court each of which has a distinct cow hide to represent that they are all different but still come within the same herd. The building also doubles as an art Gallery. Right now they are showing some pieces which commemorate Madiba’s 90th birthday. It really is aesthetically and ethically pleasing place. I have never been in a more inviting space.

Our second day in Pretoria was a mixture of joy and astonishment, like a really unexpected surprise. Our day began at the University of South Africa, UNISA, the largest distance learning university in South Africa, and were Madiba gained his education while imprisoned in Robben Island. We learned about the intervention professors at the University are making in disadvantaged schools to increase literacy rates, and afterward we went to two of their schools. The schools themselves were interesting. They weren’t necessarily destitute, but they were also nothing like schools back home. At both schools we were greeted with happiness and excitement gratitude; however in the second school we received a surprisingly large welcome. The school sang song for us and we sand songs for them, including “ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low...,” some of us even danced till exhaustion (Justin?, ha! j/k). I must admit I was really really taken aback by their welcome. As we were in the library we were told that the school was waiting for us and all of sudden I turn a corner and B.A.M. the children are singing and dancing. Although I was weary that they were performing for us I really enjoyed dancing and sing with the children later on. It was really a great experience.

After our trip back to elementary school, haha, we went to the Voortreker Monument. This monument is a HUGE building commemorating the contested history of the Voortrekers, the people that traveled from the eastern and western capes of South Africa into the interior. This monument is crazy. Not only is it huge, but it is really controversial because it is based on a lot of mythology and because it helped created Afrikaner Nationalism. The reason Afrikaner Nationalism is so controversial is because the Afrikaner dominated party, the National Party (NP), was who implemented Apartheid. Apartheid, as I hope you all know, was the government sanctioned physical separation of people on races, which was abolished in the 1990. This system was incredibly harmful to people of non-white races as they were all restricted access to cities, neglected by the government, as well as other forms of oppression. I won’t go on. Although the monument is beautiful, as you can see from the pictures, while walking through it I felt a chill up my spine thinking of the harmful and disastrous events that originated from the same ideology that built it. I am trying to think of a parallel to U.S. history, and although I haven’t found one, imagine a huge monument to the confederate army or a monument to the Nazi government of Germany.

This blog is already incredibly long, but I didn’t want to cut your vicarious experience short; however, I have a couple of words left in me. Driving across this country really has opened my eyes to South Africa. I have left the rich and tourist infested Western Cape to the historic and contested northeastern area of the country. I am not sure how often I will have internet access, but I will update you as much as possible. I have only two more wonderful weeks in this amazing country. I will make them memorable!

It’s time for another history lesson ya’ll. The past few days we have been learning about the violence that emerged out of Apartheid by visiting monuments, we learned about the Guguletu seven, the Trojan horse massacre, and Robben Island.

The Guguletu seven monument is in the Guguletu township outside of Cape Town, and it honors seven individuals that were killed by the police. The police were never charged with their murder because they claimed that one of the seven men threw a grenade at them, but once apartheid was over and Nelson Mandela, the first democratic president of South Africa, came into office in 1994, the case was revisited. One officer, who was involved in the incident, told the truth, and stated that the whole thing had been a trap to kill the seven youngsters. This monument is really bold, it consists of seven cut outs of the men’s bodies in the way they were found dead.

Premesh, one of our professors, in front the entire Guguletu Seven monument

One of the seven granite silhouettes of the Guguletu Seven

The second place we visited is the monument of the Trojan Horse Massacre, which remembers the death of three young men as well as all other victims of a brutal killings spree from the police (government). The monument itself is really interesting because it combines an “actual” or “official” monument with the graffiti in the background that “has always been there.” Another really cool thing about the monument is that if you touch the metal (copper I think?), it leaves an orange residue on your hand so that you can take a part of that with you.

Some of the group in front of the Trojan Horse Massacre Monument

Last, we went to Robben Island. Robben Island itself is a small island off of the coast of Cape Town and only a 30 minute ferry away, but Robben Island Maximum Security Prison, was the prison used by the Apartheid government to keep political prisoners. It is also the place where Nelson Mandela spent 27 years of his life. The compounds consist of a jail, which was originally designed to keep 300-400 people, but was probably keeping more than double that number, a quarry where the prisoners worked, and other areas. Oh, Robben Island is also a world heritage site! Booh Yah!

Entrance to Robben Island Maximum Security Prison

Nelson Mandela's Cell (2 x 2.5 meters big, eek!)

Seeing these monuments and museums brought a foreign sadness to my heart. Although I did not know these people and this is not my country, knowing that this much suffering has occurred and that people have struggled brings me down. Being able to see Nelson Mandela’s cell and the actual pavement were people were killed is a unique experience. I could almost feel the presence of these people as I stood there looking at the actual place they inhabited not too long ago. I am very happy, though, that the people of South Africa have held onto this history because hopefully these monuments can one day help others remember this history and then never let it be repeated.

P.S. I still have three more weeks in South Africa where I will be going to Jo-Burg, Pretoria, Kimberly, and Kruger National Park. Whoopi Whoop!

Think Pink!

First of all, let me apologize for not putting up a single blog in a week. Sorry, but for the last week things have been pretty mellow, casual, dull, and any other synonym you can think of for boring, so it was difficult to find anything interesting to blog about ... OR ... maybe I was too busy and distracted by all the amazingly cool things I get to do in South Africa and you don’t because you are stuck in the boring old US of A to even think about writing a lame old blog.... OR ... maybe it’s a mixture of both? You know, like hot and cold, i.e. lukewarm. I would go with option C, most things usually are...

So this past Friday, July 18^th was a great day, which from this sentence forward will be known as “Pink Friday,” but only because “Rainbow Friday” doesn’t sound as cool! It all began with an interview. As part of our class, we are required to interview a South African person and write up an essay. At first, I was rather unenthusiastic about the idea of having to interview someone because: A. I don’t like to conduct interviews (I am really socially awkward when conversations are forced or expected); B. I didn’t know who to interview (I don’t know anyone here!). However, once we started to go to Lwandle, I began noticing how different people’s attitudes were towards homosexuality in the Townships and in the actual city of Cape Town. Once I noticed this, it was settled. I knew i had to interview a Gay man from the township.

Cape Town is considered, so I have heard, the Gay capital of Africa—not that there is much competition, although I think Cairo is a close second, ha!—and same-sex marriage is legal here--the fourth country in the world to do so, whopdi woop!—so I figured that the society would be relatively open and accepting on this issue, right? WRONG, especially in the townships. This topic is very taboo, but hey, what’s life without some excitement and turmoil. So, via Lunga, the Lwandle Museum curator, I met my new found friend, Zackes (pseudonym) whom I interviewed. The interview went great, but he couldn’t speak English very well, so I had to have Lunga translate which made the interview all the more awkward and difficult.

Details aside, it was a very eye-opening interview; I learned a whole heck of a lot, which I guess is the point...dur! The craziest, okay, okay, the most meaningful, moment was when he told me that my interview made him feel human! He told me (this was outside of the interview, so it’s okay if I say this) that the mere fact that someone was interested in listening to his stories and struggles made him feel like a real human. My heart melted (Cornn-y. I know, right!). I know that this may sound scripted, but it really did happen. Damn, I then realized that this is why I want to be a scholar, and that this is why I need to study the GLBT community. I realized that by writing about my community, I can, in a similar way, give life to its existence, livelihood, and power. I never saw them coming, both the epiphany and the comment.

After my first eye-opening experience at Lwandle, I moved on to my second, which began with dinner promptly at 8:30. I had been in Cape Town almost three weeks and I hadn’t even seen one single freaking rainbow flag hanging from a brightly painted coffee shop selling ornate delicatessens, or an organic homemade soap and shampoo shop, or corner candle and flower shop etc., etc. (ha! Just kidding ya’ll). I had to remedy this, and since there is a lack of sexual diversity within the cohort, I was compelled to find outside help. Thankfully, I have a very popular professor who introduced me to my ally in crime for the night, Hayden.

After our 8:30 dinner, Hayden, a couple of his friends and I made our way to the famous “Pink Corner,” which is a convenient conglomeration of gay clubs and bars all on the same block. Talk about trouble, no? Once again, details aside (come on, I need to keep this blog rated PG!), the night was very very enjoyable, but it is not hard to have a good time with good company, right?

Finally, my appetite to experience what the “Pink Rand” can buy you in Cape Town has now been quelled, but at the same time, it has opened a bottomless Pandora’s Box within my aspiring intellectual head. For the third time, I will spare you the details, but let’s just say that I won’t just be leaving South Africa with bags of souvenirs and a heart full of memories, but also a brain full of ideas and questions! I may be indulging in the “Pink Rand” much sooner and more often than I had ever though...

They were cute from far away

Today was crazy, morning to night. I am really really tired, so I will make this quick. We went to Hermanus, a smaller town about an hour and a half away from Cape Town, to visit a township and then to go whale watching. That's right, whale watching.

At the township we went on a tour, but, keeping in line with my ethics, didn't take pictures. However, that's not all we did. We got to go to a preschool and play with the kids. We had the option to play with them outside, draw inside, or cook. I cooked. Sorry, as much as I love my own family's children, I don't really like them. O well. I took so me pictures of the rest of the gang getting attacked by the kids. They really are . . . excited. They were cute though, but from far away, behind the wall of the kitchen. :)

Some of "the guys" getting "attacked" by the children

My Friend, Bobbi, Drawing with the Children

After the preschool, we went whale watching for Southern Right whales. It was okay; we only saw about 6 whales and none of them came very close to us, so we didn't get a very good deal. LAME. They are actually kind of ugly, since they have these gross barnacles all over their faces, looks like gross cottage cheese STI stuff. One thing I learned about them: they have two blow holes, so when they blow it looks like a "V." Cool WHHIP! Like the children, they were cute from far away.

A Southern Right, right!

My trekk up Table Mountain

Two words: Table Mountain

Yesterday was a day of excitement, spectacular views, and extreme physical strain. Today is a day of sore legs! Table Mountain is one of the most spectacular views ever. Table mountain is this amazing mountain in the middle of Cape Town with a flat top, which makes it look like a table, thus the name: Table Mountain. (google it!)

Yesterday was our turn up the mountain, and although Helena, our professor, warned us that it was not just a leisurely stroll up but an arduous walk, over half of the group decided to take the climb, including another professor who is, lets just say, mature. If you’re freaking out thinking you would never do it, it’s okay because it is possible to take a trolley both up and down the mountain instead of hiking, but only the losers do that (ha!).

Me, before I knew how hard this hike would be, a.k.a ignorant!

When started off we said, “oh this isn’t so bad,” but once we got around the bend and started ascending up the gorge we were utterly stunned. The first one of our group was Muneer, my friend from back home in Minneapolis; he was up in one hour and forty-five minutes. The last one to get up was Daryl, our friend from “the Caribbean, Antigua to be more precise,” who took 3 hours and 15 minutes. I took 2:30 hours to get up, but before you get all rowdy on my long time you have to know that I was walking with my friend Stacy most of the time. Although I would have loved to be on the “fast” team, as I told Stacy, “my loyalty is more important than my ego.” Too bad I ditched her after 2 hours and practically ran up the last quarter of the mountain. I guess my patients are much thinner than my loyalty, ha!

A view from one of my many places of solace on the hike up

But you guys wouldn’t believe this climb. Damn! The mountain is 1,3500 (around) meters, that’s 3,000 feet. I climbed that! eek. First, it starts off as foot hills then a long horizontal stretch, and then: Oh. My. God! Once you leave the horizontal stretch that follows the foot hills you begin to ascend the gorge. You have to hike along a narrow, sometimes disappearing trail that is only inches (inches!) from hundred meter vertical drops and traverse huge(!) vertical ascensions in freezing temperature, all the while being keenly aware of (potentially) poisonous snakes waiting to attack any meandering tourist. To make it worse, it was slippery. It has been raining a lot in Cape Town, so there were plenty of little waterfalls and makeshift creeks which made it all the more beautiful, but also dangerous; one false move and its TKO!

Once I got to the top, I was so ecstatic, not only because the damn hike was over, but also at the fact that I had done it! I was now at the top of Table Mountain, something I had wanted to do since we got off the plane. At the top you see this flat grassy and shrubby area with cliffs on all sides. You can see clouds coming at you from behind and rolling over neighboring mountains like an eerie mist. Looking at the horizon the sky and the sea become one. All you can see is a large gradient of blue turning from a sky blue to a dark marine blue, making it impossible to distinguish where the ocean meets the sky. It is stunning! Pictures:

Me, basking in my own awesomeness for finishing the climb

.. oh yeah, the view was cool too!

View from the top of Table Mountain

My friend Nate snapping a shot

There were views all the way up and down the mountain. Everywhere you stopped for a rest you stumbled upon a breathtaking expanse of natural beauty; it really was incredible. Enjoy the pictures, and remember if you find yourself in South Africa, you MUST climb Table Mountain, because as much as I enjoyed the trolley down the mountain it in no way compared to the trekk up!

(p.s. trek has an extra k on purpose. Ask me later, it is a long story)

Culture shot, "double shot" it's all relative

Culture shock really does pop up in very interesting ways. Since I have been in South Africa, which is about 10 days now, I have really been marveled at the similarities in culture. I can get all my favorite foods when I want them; I have most of the same amenities as I did back home; I speak the same language, so for the past week or so I have been feeling very comfortable, until today.

For me, coffee is the nectar of life. I drink it every morning for sustenance, when I need an extra couple hours in my day, and whenever else I have the chance to sit and enjoy a cup. My insides, however, pose a slight restriction on my intake. They are picky because I am very very sensitive to milk and other dairy products, which coffee drinks seem to go with most often. Although South Africa, and specifically Cape Town, is full of coffee shops, very few, actually none so far, carry soy milk, so I am forced to drink my second favorite drink: an Americano (my first is a latté with soy milk). An Americano is simply espresso with hot water. It may sound odd or unappetizing at first, but don’t the best things require an acquired taste? (wine, beer, cheese?).

Anyway, today while at the University of the Western Cape (UWC), I got the biggest urge, both physically and psychologically, to have a nice warm and caffeinated cup of coffee. I grab Candalaya and we head off to the nearest café on block B. As I go up to order, I smile at the woman and ask for an Americano. She simply stares at me for four seconds and then smiles a little. By her bewildered look I can tell that she is unfamiliar with this drink, so I proceed to explain to her the make-up of this seemingly strange concoction. How funny it must have seemed to her that this strange man, seemingly American, wants a drink called an Americano. I really indulged her in the American overtly patriotic stereotype, eek. After explaining the drink to her twice, I gave up and said “can I just have two shots of espresso?” Once again: bewilderment. I thought to myself, “come on, she HAS to know what an espresso is, she’s at a coffee shop for god’s sake!”

After a slight thought, the woman asks me to repeat myself and I do, thrice, in fact, but all to no avail. Then, the most interesting thing happens, she tells me to tell Candalaya what I want, so that Candalaya can tell her. Two things happened right then, I was assumed to be American (or an idiot, but I think sometimes these adjectives are synonymous here) and Candalaya was assumed to be South African. Weird! I am Mexican, hijole! Candalaya goes on to explain that she is not actually South African and doesn’t speak the woman’s native tongue, whatever it was it was not English, that’s for sure. Thankfully a woman behind us told her what I wanted, but to my surprise she did it in English. Apparently it is called a “double shot” here. Whatever.
Well, everything got sorted out. I went and sat down to wait for my coffee; I was happy that the whole episode was over and that I would soon be rewarded with the warmth and caffeine of my “double shot.” Three minutes later the woman hands me my drink, after giggling because I didn’t want any sugar, but I immediately know something is terribly wrong. My coffee is too heavy for two simple shots of espresso. DAMN! I open my coffee to the horrific surprise of white froth. DAMN! She made my “double shot” with milk (which is actually a latté)! As disappointed as I was, I was not going to indulge in another little cultural and linguistic battle with this woman. I paid her the R7 and walked away with Candalaya. As soon as I got out of the coffee shop I cursed. I am not sure who or what. Really, no one is to blame, but damn, I need my coffee.

It is funny that my culture shock has materialized in the form of coffee. Something that has always seemed to bring me comfort is now what has made me the most uncomfortable in South Africa. Not to say that I am desperate to leave simply because of a cup of jo, it is just interesting how the difference between cultures can creep up slowly and then pounce on you when you are the most comfortable. It’s a good lesson both in cultural perception and addition prevention. Culture shock, "double shot" it's all relative.

Your coffee addict,

-Jesús

The South African Spectacular Tour

It’s always hard to find some catchy phrase to catch the attention of my blog readers, so if I ever fail to really grab your attention with my first line, e.g. this one, please get over it. haha.

Well, Yesterday wasn’t a very eventful day; I didn’t feel it was worthy of a blog, so I didn’t write one all for itself. We went to a couple film showings at the Victoria and Alfred (V & A) waterfront—this really “posh” mall in the middle of Cape Town--as a part of a film festival going on. The films weren’t great and nothing else interesting happened. It was a chill day.

Today, however, was the complete opposite of yesterday. We did all the “touristy” things today, and it was exhausting. It was a ridiculously long day; starting at 9 am in the morning and ending at 7 pm. I have pictures of mostly everything that we did, but I must warn you that you may need to wait until I get back to The States until you can see them because it takes to much damn time to put up pictures.

First, we took a driving tour through the city, Cape Town, to see the famous buildings, beaches, and sights. It was pouring most of the time and it was cold, so it was pretty impossible to see anything, which kind of made the whole thing pointless. After that we went onto the peninsula (look up Cape Town and that is the little hook) to look at the mountains and all of that jazz. Luckily, the weather began to clear up as we got to the harbor and we went on a boat ride to Seal Island, but damn the water was crazy. We were bobbing up, and some of the people had never been on a boat, so there were plenty of them scared out of their minds. I have to say I was a little worried, but mostly because South Africa has the highest density of Great White Sharks in the world, so there was no freaking way I was going in that water. I wasn’t too amazed by the seals since I grew up on the coast of northern California and I heard them every night, barking their throats away. Pictures: (Stacy, my friend and cohort member, and I at a beach, the harbor, and the seals on Seal Island)

After the boat ride, we made our way to another wine estate for some wine tasting. The wine glasses were huge! After my five allotted glasses I was buzzed for sure. The people weren’t really friendly and thankfully we didn’t stay too long because I was half-way drunk and really hungry. Luckily, our next stop was lunch. We went to another “posh” seafood restaurant, but the food really stunk. They have seasoning problems here, i.e. they need to spice their stuff up. Even though the food stunk, the restaurant is really famous because it is really really close to the penguins! Yes, that’s right. There are penguins in South Africa: the South African Penguin. Unfortunately, it was just like a zoo, but outside. There were trails and railings, but they were running around wild and all that, so that was cool. I had hoped I could have touched them and walked next to them, but NO! Either way, I got close. They were freaking cute, no matter how macho you may be, there is not better adjective for penguins that just plain ol' darn "cute." Pictures (the winery and the penguins)

Our last stop was the Cape. First, we went to the top of the mountain. We had to hike up a 45 degree angle for 20 minutes to get to the top. I almost quit half way through, but damn the view was really freaking amazing. My legs will be sore tomorrow! After my hike down the mountain, we drove to our last and final destination: the south-eastern most point of Africa. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures. There was nothing to see except a sign. LAME. What’s so great about that? Pictures: me on top of Cape Point, the end of the peninsula.

Well, I am really freaking uber tired. I have been meaning to buy people things, but everything here in Cape Town is really freaking touristy and unauthentic. My professor, Helena, urges us to wait to get the “real” stuff later on our trip when we travel inland more. The rest of this week we will be working at Lwandle, you guys remember, right? We won’t be doing sight seeing or anything like that, but it will be really cool to start interviewing the community people and actually getting to engage with them, rather than just talking about doing it. We have been planning to interview them for a week now. It’s already been a week, damn!

Shout outs:
Michaela: I am coming back soon. I tried to steal a penguin for you, but I would have been arrested. Eeek.

Katie & Balta: Thanks for the love!

We have begun our work at Lwandle Migrant Labor Museum, and we will continue to work there until the end of next week. The group, as well as some student from the University of the Western Cape (UWC), and volunteers form the community, is working to put on an exhibit about textiles and clothing made and sold within the Lawndle Township. These are clothes made by people within the Township and we hope that this exhibit will prompt other people to buy these clothes and support the Township. I am on the exhibit committee, so I will be helping make the actual exhibit, decide what dresses or clothes to display, what signs to put up, what pictures to enlarge, etc.

Yesterday, we took a walk through the actual township and you can just imagine how... I am having trouble finding the correct, yet not cliché, word for this...desperate the situation is here. There are no official roads, no private toilets, and no garbage system. You can imagine how this place might look. Lunga our guide and local asked us to take pictures, but none of us felt comfortable, yet knowing that we wouldn’t want to forget this or miss the chance to visually document our experiences, Lunga took my camera and took pictures for us. I have two here:

After our work at Lwandle, we went to the famous Cape Town Water Front where lights, neon, and relics of American malls proliferated everywhere you turned. I asked one of the students from UWC, Lauren (pronounced with a trill “r” like in Spanish), if she was used to this contrast and she said, “Yes.” Contrast is what they are accustomed to, whereas in the US it’s all about subtlety. At dinner, well more like drinks, a “white” (or “Afrikaaner,” according to Dane, another UWC student) couple preferred to leave the restaurant than move one table over to make room for us and our “coloured” friends, where as in America if you are black you “randomly” get stopped in your car or searched at the airport. It makes me guilty and uncomfortable. Racism, poverty, prejudice, money is all sharply contrasted, side by side, there is very little grey here. I can’t decide if it’s a good thing or bad thing; “subtlety,” I mean.

As for me, I still have left little of my American culture behind. I wake up at six, shower, dress, and walk across the street to drink an Americano and study vocabulary for the GRE. When I go home I write these blogs, my “analytical” journal, my diary, and read.

Oh, about the pictures from last time, the internet is very slow and ornery here, so I will do my best to upload pictures. I understand they make things more interesting and aesthetically pleasing, so I will do my best (salé?) to upload pictures. I am slowly and painfully learning just how different and fortunate I am. I am growing a heavy heart while in South Africa.

First of all, thank you all for commenting (for those of you who have commented). Keep 'em coming.

Today was a day of complete contrast. I have been living in a very “normal” part of Cape Town, but like every other place in the world, Cape Town has very rich areas as well as very destitute areas. Today, we went to one of the most famous Afrikaner Vine yards as well as Lwandle Township, where the museum that I will be working at is. If you’ve ever seen a poor village, you’ve seen them all. Lwandle is just like any other neglected area of the world. It was originally a migrant labor camp for only males, but has since been renovated into single family homes, which are by no means “home-y” or cozy. We took a small tour of the township where I met the following young boys: Mxabo, Thembela, and Mxabo (jr., I guess!). Side note, the “x” in Mxabo’s name is not a x, but a click... Xosha is everywhere here. Its known for being a “click” language as it has three different clicks in their alphabet. They are here:

The three youngsters followed us around and begged for food and money, but we were advised not to give them anything as they would continue to beg until we left. Instead, we plan to give gifts on our last day. At one point, one of them, Thembela, I think, put his hand in my brown bag and I had to scold him. I felt bad, but stealing is not down with me.

Being in such a poor place was eye-opening and incredible. I could babble about how awful it was, but I won’t bore you with those. Let’s just say that I felt bad eating lunch and didn’t eat much. Feeling selfish was easy.

However, I did not realize how awful and poor Lwandle was until we went to our next destination: the vineyard. This vineyard isn’t any old vineyard, but has a long and important Afrikaner history. It was started by a servant of one of the first Dutch settlers and is HUGE! The vineyard went on for miles, the house was extraordinary lavish, and the gardens were just ridiculous. There were over 7 gardens, e.g. an herb garden, a peony garden, a “japanese” garden, etc. Here are pictures:

It was crazy to see the complete contrast in living and lifestyles only about 10 minutes apart. In ten minutes I went from extreme poverty and social repression to a lavish and ornate plantation with over 10 buildings for one family alone. It was ridiculous. I felt uncomfortable walking through the rose garden knowing that there was such horrible poverty so close by and that my R2 cup of wine would seem out of this world to those in Lwandle. Horrible contrasts, beautiful contrasts, no?

Sociology Lesson--Don't get ripped off, American.

It was our first “real” full day in Cape Town today. We went to go visit the University of the Western Cape. The University was really influential in providing advocates wishing to end Apartheid. According to Primesh, (if that’s how you spell his name) Mandela, the first democratic president of South Africa and an all around amazing guy, picked a quarter of his Presidential cabinet from staff and faculty at the University. It was also very influential in starting protests around anti-apartheid issues. Last, it was also one of the first sites of resistance against the government sponsored physical segregation called apartheid, i.e. “black” and “coloured” and “other” people couldn’t live in the city, but instead had to live in designated areas that were usually not very nice, by breaking the laws and accepting all people, regardless of race, into their school as it was originally designated for only “coloured” people.

About Primesh, he is a professor at the University of Western Cape in History. He obtained his PhD from the University of Minnesota and is our connection to the University.

Now, about “races” in south Africa. Although these “races” don’t necessarily exist in South Africa anymore because apartheid is over, it is still necessary to explain them. In apartheid, black people consisted of the indigenous black people that were here before Europeans came, e.g. the Khoi Khoi, Khosa, etc. Then there are whites, which consists of British people and Afrikaners. Afrikaners are Europeans that have mixed backgrounds consisting of Dutch, German, French, and Portuguese; although they claim to be the “original” South Africans. Now, Coloured people are of mixed blood, like mestizos. They originate from the interbreeding of the early settlers, Afrikaners, and the native people, but now anyone of mixed bloodlines is considered Coloured. This doesn’t mean that they are dark necessarily because as Primesh stated, “there are Coloured that are whiter than the whites.” There are other “races” here, but the most prominent are Malaysians and Indians.

Sorry, for the sociology lesson, but it really puts into context what’s going on and the society that I am living in. Anyway, today we went to the University and took a tour—a very very eye-opening one I might say. Then we went to dinner. I was rather jet lagged all day. I got up at 7 AM, but my body felt as if it was 1 AM. I fought to stay awake, and now I am planning to go to sleep. Its 11:09 PM here, but my body thinks it’s 4:09 PM.

Oh yes, today I was officially ripped off. I went to get a coffee from our apartment at “Café Mimi,” a cute and cozy shop right downstairs from our place. I was surprised at how friendly and talkative the barista was to me and even more surprised that she was American, although she had never head of a Depth Charge. After a short chat, she said that it would be 42 rand, I quickly gave her a 50 Rand piece and told her to keep the change; she was nice enough and deserved it. However, once I saw Helena, our instructor and told her my story she was shocked and told me to make the calculation to dollars. Let’s see, there are 7 Rands (R7) in 1 dollar, so... Oh crap! In that second, I realized I had been dooped. Another American ripped off! I paid 6 dollars for a coffee. Helena informed me that coffee should never be above R20 (close to three dollars). I was dooped. Lame, but no worries, I am going down there tomorrow and DEMANDING a free drink or else I plan to boycott and leer at them whenever I walk by. Lame!