The past few days have been spent on the Garden Route, a gorgeous drive along the southern tip of South Africa. I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to get out of Cape Town, my first since arriving in September. I feel disappointed with how little I’ve explored South Africa but in all fairness, life and work keeps me very busy. This trip offered me a real chance to explore and not just take someone’s word for how things are in South Africa. My companions included Shelby and Brandon, my resident mom and dad while I’m in Cape Town, Lindsay, Kale, and Emily whose British humor I swear gets funnier and funnier the more time I spend with her.
Wednesday brought us a 7 hour car ride from Cape Town to Storms River in the Eastern Cape. We chose to drive the furthest on the first day and work our way back, thus saving the shortest drive for the last day. I find that there is nothing that I enjoy more than sitting in a car listening to good music and looking out the window at a foreign country. 7 hours in the car that day was a delight! Along the way we stopped for a quick trip to the beach and a real first Indian Ocean experience, Brandon and I jumped in fully clothed! Our next stop was so that Lindsay could bungee jump at Bloukrans, the highest commercial bungee jump in the world! I wouldn’t be caught dead bungee jumping so I filmed. It was so ridiculously tall, I don’t even know how she did it. That night we stayed at the Tsitsikamma Backpackers, getting some much needed sleep for our adventure filled day to come.
Bright and early Thursday morning saw us tubing the Storms River. Unlike “floating the river” in the states, this more resembled my canyoning trips in Jordan due to the low water level. Fitted with wetsuits and tubes, we hiked down to the river and spent the next few hours swimming, jumping, hiking, and navigating past boulders. Our guides, Richard and Gavin, never ceased to dunk people of pull tubes out from under people (me) when they jumped in. They were also very keen to jump off of anything and everything. I did not take part in this. The last jump of the day involved a hike up a cliff followed by a shimmy out on a tree branch. Only the boys jumped this as it had to have been 60-70 feet high! It looked painful just watching!
After a quick lunch we were on our way to do a zip lining canopy tour of the Tsitsikamma forest. This was so much fun! Our guides went out of their way to make us feel safe as well as tell us about the forest. We each got to experience 10 zip lines, all varying in length and speed. It was such a rush to fly through the forest and adjust your speed that you never have a chance to look down or be scared. I’ve never had an issue with heights, asking me to jump from heights is a different issue but this was absolutely amazing. What really impressed me about the tour was that all the guides were local and the company really wanted to boost the local economy. The town of Storms River really impressed me in that way as well. It was so small that everyone knew each other yet they are really working to benefit from all of the tourists that flock to the Garden Route.
Friday was much more relaxed than our previous day of adventures. After a lazy breakfast at a mom and pop’s coffee place in Storms River we headed west. I didn’t want to see the Elephant Sanctuary so Emily and I lazily explored the town of Plettenberg Bay. 11 months out of the year it’s a ghost town but during the summer holiday month of December, all of the millionaires return to their holiday homes. It really did feel like a resort town out of season so as soon as we had a nice seafood lunch on the beach we got back on the road. Our next stop was for a bit more exploring in Knysna (pronounced with a silent K). Once again another sleepy resort town out of season, the view of the entrance to the lagoon was the only thing really to do. Our day finally ended at the Fairy Knowe Backpackers in Wilderness. We enjoyed a nice dinner in town and returned to the bar at the hostel to watch the South Africa vs. France test Rugby match.
My favorite day of the whole trip had to be Saturday, when we ventured to Oudtshoorn (I have come to the conclusion that you must be a native in order to know how to pronounce this one.) Our first stop was at the Highgate Ostrich Farm. Yes, ostriches. After an educational tour we proceeded to feed them, stand on their eggs, sit on them, then RIDE THEM!!!
In case you find yourself in a situation where you must ride an ostrich, here is what you should do: grab the wings near the bases, sit on the hump UNDER THE WINGS, lean back and try not to fall off. Those were the only instructions I was given and I had tears of joy pouring down my face once I was done. I’ll try to post the video somewhere as it is pure hilarity! They run so fast and as I was in a pen, I was dealing with 10-12 other freaked out ostriches. Another uncommon animal to add to my list.
After the ostrich farm Lindsay and I headed to the Cango Caves for an “adventure tour.” This just meant that for an extra R10 we got to wedge ourselves in tunnels and pass through super tiny crevices. The first chamber of the cave used to be inhabited by bushmen and some of the markings are still there. The second chamber, by far the largest, used to be a concert venue during the 1960s through 90s until concertgoers caused too much damage to the caves. On our way through the caves I wound up running into another intern at the CTRC. We both knew we would be on the Gardent Route but to run into someone you know in a cave in whoknowswhere, South Africa is beyond surreal. The last part of the tour involved a lot of crawling, climbing, darkness, and sliminess from all of the condensation. Our guide was absolutely amazing. He had just enough passive aggressive attitude to make every comment about each tourist hilarious. On our way back he taught us some words to say in Afrikaans to piss people off, including the correct pronunciations for them. Well worth R75!
The last town that we stayed in was Mossel Bay, once again a resort town out of season. There was absolutely nothing going on there. It was strange because technically Mossel Bay is the starting point of the Garden Route yet we didn’t see any other tourists, not even very many inhabitants. It made it very easy to not get distracted this morning and to just get on the road for Cape Town.
Overall it was a good trip and a much needed break from Cape Town. Had the weather been nicer I’m sure I would be saying it was an amazing trip but really it was well worth it.
I made a few observations along the way: I don’t think I’ve heard Afrikaans spoken as much as I did during the past 5 days. Everyone spoke it and although I was completely understood, it just felt odd to speak in English, something completely opposite of Cape Town. I’m used to hearing Afrikaans from my friend but still, not to this degree. Also, driving. Need I say more? Well I drove here. Cars drive on the opposite side of the road than they do in the states. This is a bit difficult but I find that I’m getting really used to it so driving wasn’t that difficult. I find that I have more trouble shifting gears using my left hand. The pedals aren’t reversed which is helpful but I still have to concentrate really hard when I shift. I am absolutely terrified of passing/being passed. There is an entire etiquette for how to do this and how to indicate gratitude that when I see a car in the rear view mirror I just get nervous. Luckily I haven’t driven since and I don’t really want to do it again…
As my time here dwindles I hope to go on a lot more adventures. I am disappointed in myself as far as my lack of exploring. Whereas I feel that I have delved into the culture and psyche of South Africa, I feel now that I need to get out and see with my own eyes. Hopefully when my time here is up and I find myself on the plane home I will be in a different situation, but for now so many things remain to be explored.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Amazing
My apologies for the lack of updates. I figured I would show in pictures what I've been up to because words just fall short.
Heaven. Hout Bay at sunset. 
The perfect day.
Gardening project (and mural painting) in Nyanga Township.
Hiking in Cecilia Forest.
Hiking in Cecilia Forest.Tuesday, October 13, 2009
I've been here how long?
Well I did it. I managed to all-go, no-quit myself into a head cold. I type this just having downed some Nyquil and relentlessly chugging some South African Puma cough syrup. It tastes like black licorice, my least favorite flavor of all time. Pity me. I will henceforth elaborate on the events that led up to me becoming a walking petri dish of disease…
As the previous week had put me firmly in my place as office “bitch” for lack of a better term, I returned to work this week rested and better prepared. I completed interview after interview, helping Fwamba as much as I possibly could. I did it with a smile and at the end of the day I left relatively unstressed. That was Monday. Tuesday was a completely different story. I think our security guard Stanley has a special radar, one that beeps whenever I get hungry and am contemplating going out to get food. I think this radar exists because he never fails to bring me the hardest cases, after meeting hours keep in mind, whenever I’m at my grumpiest during the day.
Tuesday brought me a case of a woman from the DRC who does not speak English. We brought in an interpreter for Swahili for her, not an actual interpreter, but another refugee in the waiting room who could speak both Swahili and English. As I was just getting her basic information, it slowly came out that she was living in a container that was being locked, from the outside, at night. The people who owned the container had apparently brought her in so she could get assistance from us to pay for her rent… in the container… locked in with her child… away from her belongings… and at a completely different address than the one she had given Home Affairs. I mean, I know I’ve only been on the job 3 weeks but HOLY CRAP! Her story screamed abuse, it screamed human trafficking! I can complain all day about how my boss is disorganized, how she’s this or that, but when it comes down to it, Christina will step in tough when it comes to crazy situations. She made the call right then and there to take the woman and child into our care, to send the man bringing her in back home, and to set them up at a shelter. She did this all while dealing with her own cases, defending my roommate to a woman who was accusing her of short-changing her, and yelling at the guy to stay away from this woman. She is tough!
The rest of my week at work was pretty relaxed. I was able to go on a few field trips to Athlone, Phillipi, Mitchells Plain, and Retreat. Another intern, Andrew, had to conduct home visits in order to determine whether some of the small business proposals submitted to the Empowerment/Self-Reliance Department were actually feasible. The trip to Retreat was just to get out of the office with Wandile. He needed a CTRC Board Member’s signature as he is in the Finance Department, so we just took a drive. He told me about life in South Africa, how he had offers to play professional soccer but he chose school instead.
Everyone at work is really intent on showing us around, I absolutely love it. Wandile offered to pick me up and take me out for a night on the town. Fwamba volunteered himself and Stanley to pick me up and take me to a real African club in the Northern suburbs. Also, they want to show me and Samantha around the beaches one day. These guys are absolutely amazing and have incredible stories. Stanley is ex-military, and will constantly tell me how living in Obz is dangerous. He is #3 on my speed dial and I trust him to show up with a shot gun if I ever need him to. Fwamba is originally from the DRC, came to South Africa much like most of the refugees we see daily, and is now a citizen, living what he terms a “simple life.” I have so much respect for everyone that I work with, they all have something unique about them and I hope I never forget them.
In addition to the full-time internship, there is something to do every night as I elaborated last post as far as the weekly routine. Add in two potlucks and a meet and greet, other than that my week stayed true to form. Friday brought along another trip to the garden. I woke up that morning feeling a sore throat coming on, my indicator that a deathly disease is on it’s way. My half-day at work was absolutely pointless, me and Samantha were so exhausted from a hard week that we just kept getting the giggles. Thus, my three hours of work that day were spent hiding in Phaladi’s office crying from laughing so hard. We rushed home to get some proper food before setting off for Nyanga. It was a much smaller group that went this time. Our task for the day was also a bit more hard labor-oriented than it was the previous Friday. We mowed, raked, mowed, and raked some more. We cleared a patch for some vegetables that will most likely be overgrown much sooner than we can actually plant anything. Two and a half hours later we retired for the day to a job well done beer and frolic in the field with Ivy’s son Thando. This kid is the most rambunctious 4 year old I’ve ever met, his energy is endless! He was helping us clear fields, he was making racecar noises whenever he pushed the wheelbarrow, and he was constantly climbing on us like we were jungle gyms. I love the kid! The best part is that he speaks maybe 3 words of English so getting Andrew (his uncle and VAC staff member) to translate for him is absolutely hilarious!
Saturday was spent lounging at the beach in Camps Bay. Camps Bay is the really swanky area of Cape Town. If I wanted to spent all my money in an hour shopping, drinking, and eating, I would come to Camps Bay. My amazing friend Shelby drove us down to the beach and we just laid out in the sun, amidst the wind pelting us with sand and leaves… You can really tell who the tourists are as no one goes in the water except the people not from Cape Town. In order to look local we also avoided the water, I mean, winter JUST ended here!
Sunday brought the big adventure! Me and Samantha ventured down to the V&A Waterfront to catch the ferry to Robben Island. On the island sits a former prison (and leper colony) where Nelson Mandela spent 18 of his 27 years of incarceration. The correspondence and work he did while on Robben Island laid the groundwork for the end of Apartheid. The ferry ride showed us an amazing view of Cape Town with Devil’s Peak, Table Mountain and Lion’s Head looming above. Once we arrived, we were ushered onto buses that took us on a brief tour of the island. Then came the amazing part… The last half of the tour includes a walk through the prison led by a former political prisoner. AMAZING! Our guide explained to us the layout and daily life of the prison. He then shared his own personal story, including the events leading up to his being labeled a terrorist and sent to Robben Island. The way he spoke was so eloquent and expressive that I could spend a lifetime listening to all of his stories. When he led us through the prison, the folding of his hands behind his hunched back just spoke volumes about what this man has done in his life. That is an image I hope to never forget and I was so proud to shake his hand at the end.
So here’s to next week and all the crazy new adventures it will bring!
As the previous week had put me firmly in my place as office “bitch” for lack of a better term, I returned to work this week rested and better prepared. I completed interview after interview, helping Fwamba as much as I possibly could. I did it with a smile and at the end of the day I left relatively unstressed. That was Monday. Tuesday was a completely different story. I think our security guard Stanley has a special radar, one that beeps whenever I get hungry and am contemplating going out to get food. I think this radar exists because he never fails to bring me the hardest cases, after meeting hours keep in mind, whenever I’m at my grumpiest during the day.
Tuesday brought me a case of a woman from the DRC who does not speak English. We brought in an interpreter for Swahili for her, not an actual interpreter, but another refugee in the waiting room who could speak both Swahili and English. As I was just getting her basic information, it slowly came out that she was living in a container that was being locked, from the outside, at night. The people who owned the container had apparently brought her in so she could get assistance from us to pay for her rent… in the container… locked in with her child… away from her belongings… and at a completely different address than the one she had given Home Affairs. I mean, I know I’ve only been on the job 3 weeks but HOLY CRAP! Her story screamed abuse, it screamed human trafficking! I can complain all day about how my boss is disorganized, how she’s this or that, but when it comes down to it, Christina will step in tough when it comes to crazy situations. She made the call right then and there to take the woman and child into our care, to send the man bringing her in back home, and to set them up at a shelter. She did this all while dealing with her own cases, defending my roommate to a woman who was accusing her of short-changing her, and yelling at the guy to stay away from this woman. She is tough!
The rest of my week at work was pretty relaxed. I was able to go on a few field trips to Athlone, Phillipi, Mitchells Plain, and Retreat. Another intern, Andrew, had to conduct home visits in order to determine whether some of the small business proposals submitted to the Empowerment/Self-Reliance Department were actually feasible. The trip to Retreat was just to get out of the office with Wandile. He needed a CTRC Board Member’s signature as he is in the Finance Department, so we just took a drive. He told me about life in South Africa, how he had offers to play professional soccer but he chose school instead.
Everyone at work is really intent on showing us around, I absolutely love it. Wandile offered to pick me up and take me out for a night on the town. Fwamba volunteered himself and Stanley to pick me up and take me to a real African club in the Northern suburbs. Also, they want to show me and Samantha around the beaches one day. These guys are absolutely amazing and have incredible stories. Stanley is ex-military, and will constantly tell me how living in Obz is dangerous. He is #3 on my speed dial and I trust him to show up with a shot gun if I ever need him to. Fwamba is originally from the DRC, came to South Africa much like most of the refugees we see daily, and is now a citizen, living what he terms a “simple life.” I have so much respect for everyone that I work with, they all have something unique about them and I hope I never forget them.
In addition to the full-time internship, there is something to do every night as I elaborated last post as far as the weekly routine. Add in two potlucks and a meet and greet, other than that my week stayed true to form. Friday brought along another trip to the garden. I woke up that morning feeling a sore throat coming on, my indicator that a deathly disease is on it’s way. My half-day at work was absolutely pointless, me and Samantha were so exhausted from a hard week that we just kept getting the giggles. Thus, my three hours of work that day were spent hiding in Phaladi’s office crying from laughing so hard. We rushed home to get some proper food before setting off for Nyanga. It was a much smaller group that went this time. Our task for the day was also a bit more hard labor-oriented than it was the previous Friday. We mowed, raked, mowed, and raked some more. We cleared a patch for some vegetables that will most likely be overgrown much sooner than we can actually plant anything. Two and a half hours later we retired for the day to a job well done beer and frolic in the field with Ivy’s son Thando. This kid is the most rambunctious 4 year old I’ve ever met, his energy is endless! He was helping us clear fields, he was making racecar noises whenever he pushed the wheelbarrow, and he was constantly climbing on us like we were jungle gyms. I love the kid! The best part is that he speaks maybe 3 words of English so getting Andrew (his uncle and VAC staff member) to translate for him is absolutely hilarious!
Saturday was spent lounging at the beach in Camps Bay. Camps Bay is the really swanky area of Cape Town. If I wanted to spent all my money in an hour shopping, drinking, and eating, I would come to Camps Bay. My amazing friend Shelby drove us down to the beach and we just laid out in the sun, amidst the wind pelting us with sand and leaves… You can really tell who the tourists are as no one goes in the water except the people not from Cape Town. In order to look local we also avoided the water, I mean, winter JUST ended here!
Sunday brought the big adventure! Me and Samantha ventured down to the V&A Waterfront to catch the ferry to Robben Island. On the island sits a former prison (and leper colony) where Nelson Mandela spent 18 of his 27 years of incarceration. The correspondence and work he did while on Robben Island laid the groundwork for the end of Apartheid. The ferry ride showed us an amazing view of Cape Town with Devil’s Peak, Table Mountain and Lion’s Head looming above. Once we arrived, we were ushered onto buses that took us on a brief tour of the island. Then came the amazing part… The last half of the tour includes a walk through the prison led by a former political prisoner. AMAZING! Our guide explained to us the layout and daily life of the prison. He then shared his own personal story, including the events leading up to his being labeled a terrorist and sent to Robben Island. The way he spoke was so eloquent and expressive that I could spend a lifetime listening to all of his stories. When he led us through the prison, the folding of his hands behind his hunched back just spoke volumes about what this man has done in his life. That is an image I hope to never forget and I was so proud to shake his hand at the end.
So here’s to next week and all the crazy new adventures it will bring!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Stressful jobs 101
The few days have been the biggest whirlwind of my 2.5 weeks so far here in South Africa. I have gone to bed extremely tired every single night from work, stress, fitting into daily life, etc. If this pattern holds, my time here will have flown in front of my eyes without me ever having taken a step back to realize it. I thought I would have time. I mean, there exists this concept of Africa time, that things are relaxed and that 5 minutes late is 10 minutes too early. I have yet to see this. Work is all go, no quit from the minute I step into the office. Life has become so exciting and eventful that I find myself running around to get somewhere the minute I get off work. Weekends are spent gaining first experiences, like Signal Hill last weekend, my first rugby game today, and a soccer game in the Nyanga township tomorrow. Where is my time to relax? Probably when I’m dead, but to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My week started with an extreme change. I am now a social worker at the CTRC. Intern just doesn’t accurately describe what it is I do so I have changed my title. I spend my days doing intake interviews, assessing peoples’ need, filling out requisition forms, and generally photocopying my life away. I can now add Namibia and Mozambique to the list of origin countries of people I’ve interviewed. Is it bad that I have a preference? I do not like speaking to people from francophone countries for the sole reason that I have to speak in French! It is extremely difficult to express to someone “I’m sorry, I’m just getting your information, we cannot give you any money today,” in English, but French is absolutely impossible! I want to convey actual remorse at not being able to help them but all that comes out is broken Franglais (yes, French-English) that I’m not even able to understand. This is how work is 3 days a week.
Wednesday was an strategy planning meeting at the Palms House Hotel (think fancy-shmancy) where we discussed the budget for the next year. My initial thinking was that I really did not have to be there, I served no purpose other than to eat free food and take up space. Midway through the meeting, roughly around hour 3, I realized how cool it was that I was there. We were discussing problems with the CTRC, how to resolve them, and the budget to be proposed to the UNHCR. I got to see how, with such a tiny budget, the CTRC is able to help thousands of people. I’m talking something around $700,000 helping thousands of people start small businesses, pay rent, medical expenses, funeral costs, get food, transport themselves, all in addition to building costs and employee salaries. Some days I just can’t help but think about how disorganized the CTRC is but then this blows my mind.
I would like to share how my day at work went Thursday. I feel it accurately portrays the ups and downs of my days at the CTRC. We got slammed with people coming in for transportation aid. Luckily I didn’t have to deal with this, instead, I received a massive stack of papers on my desk of people to interview. I did several of these in French and then a man from Namibia came in and absolutely broke my heart with his story. At around 12:30 pm I was getting ready to grab some lunch when in pops Stanley our security guard with the papers of some newly arrived refugees. When I say newly arrived, I mean newly arrived. They had been in South Africa for a total of 8 days, mostly in Pretoria but had spent the night before on the streets of Cape Town because they couldn’t find a place to stay. Apparently someone in Pretoria had told them that they could easily be helped in here… This speaks highly of the facilities in Cape Town but at the same time, the CTRC cannot handle a huge influx of refugees coming because someone said the grass is greener in Cape Town, as you will see in just a little bit. Truthfully, I was annoyed at having to deal with this as I had no idea what I was doing. The main social worker had left for the day and Christina was doing her own interviews thus this fell on me, a girl with 3 days of actual experience and feeling the crankiness that lack of breakfast and lunch brings. The main initiative was to find shelter for this man, his wife, and 9 month old child. I had to call a minimum of 10 shelters. No one would take them. They were either full, or they didn’t take children, or the phone number was wrong, or the wife didn’t speak enough English for the program. Then we moved onto mosques as at least the man was a practicing Muslim. Mosque after mosque would not take them. The couple agreed to separate and we still couldn’t find room for them. The couple agreed to stay in a church and still we couldn’t find room for them. I felt so helpless, as I’m sure they did. As the time drew nearer to tell them that their only option was another night on the streets, a womens shelter in Athlone called and said they had room for the wife and child. Christina told me to go with Stanley to transport them to the shelter, return, and find a place for the husband. Again I felt annoyance at having to do this, why did I have to go along and serve absolutely no purpose??? My entire attitude changed once we got there and I got to see the shelter. I really just took up space but it was so beneficial for me to see where a lot of our clients have to go when they first arrive in Cape Town. I was also able to talk to Stanley about life in South Africa on the drive. He served for 22 years in the South African Military as well as in the police force so he has a lot of stories to tell (quite a bit about how Observatory, where I live, is one of the most dangerous places…) When we passed Youngsfield Military base where a lot of Somali refugees work and live, he told me about his training there and pointed out some of the buildings. When we got back, Christina had already made arrangements for where the man was to go and Stanley took him right away, I didn’t tag along. I left work extremely drained, hungry, fulfilled at having “helped” and frustrated at not having been able to do more.
Outside of work, life in Cape Town is starting to fall into place. I’m discovering a routine and packing in as much as I can. Margarita Mondays are celebrated almost religiously, Tuesdays are for Xhosa, Wednesdays are for whatever plans get made, though they usually involve buy 1, get 1 free pizza at Babbos. Thursdays are for soccer with 3 people I know and 13 Euros, all from Norway, Holland, and Spain. I am the worst of all the players in addition to being the only girl. The cute boy from Holland kept apologizing to me when he’d knock me out of the way and I had Brandon there to encourage me, even when I gave the other team the ball… Oh gosh.
And finally, fridays usually consist of a planned activity with VAC. Yesterday we went to the Nyanga township to work on a community garden project. While others cleared fields, planted trees, started seedling pots, my job was to help paint a mural of a tree with hand prints as leaves. We got 4 or so kids to help us out and we made it a really fun experience. I can always be counted on to start a paint fight, so why should Nyanga be any different? After running around and around with the kids, I finally called time out due us being covered and to it being absolutely horrible paint that doesn’t wash out in water. The remedy to get this out? Soaking in paint thinner, lathering in Ammonia bathroom cleaner, and scrubbing like hell! I’ve showered 3 times since and I still can’t get it all off. It was such an amazing experience being there, working hard, hanging out with kids, I could probably do that every Friday afternoon. A mandatory beer was had at Scrumpy Jack’s upon return to Observatory, though we were all tired and dirty (and covered in paint that rubbed off onto the bar in the case of my roommate!) Fridays also tends to be the night to go out on the town. Me, I don’t enjoy this really as it means dressing up, getting a taxi, driving far, not knowing where we’re going, and staying out late. I am not so secretely an 80 year old woman at heart, so anything past 9:30 pm and I’m not a happy camper!
Last night we went to Long St. in Cape Town and I was able to see the massive party that it is. Just imagine club after bar after street food joint after club, stretching for blocks and blocks. Driving through or by it you see how empty the rest of the city is, everyone goes to Long Street! I would say the coolest thing about the night was sitting on the balcony of Dubliner just people-watching. I could have done that all night if only the wafting of street meat and mediterranean food hadn’t called our names from below.
Today I experienced a first. MY FIRST VIEWING OF A RUGBY MATCH WOOOOOO!!!! Me and Samantha met up with the other two interns from the CTRC to see Vodacom WP crush the Boland Kavaliers. As spring is officially here, the 85F temp brought us some rosy cheeks and color on the arm. I am not complaining! I was a complete novice before I entered the stadium, now I am a pro rugby spectator. Just don’t ask me the names of the positions, the scoring terms, the purpose of the scrum, or why these extremely large men stand behind each other and hike each others’ shorts up. The best part? The stadium is only 3 stops on the train away and the tickets (10th row back) were R50!!! Amazing! Cricket season in South Africa starts soon so I’ll be sure to go see one, or two, or a ton of those matches as well!
I will conclude by stating that I absolutely love my life here in Cape Town. The past summer I worked hard to become comfortable in my own skin. I feel that this is really paying off now as I have never felt more comfortable with who I am, as I have here. I am so glad that I made the choice to come here, and if I can find a way to stay in Cape Town indefinitely, I will. BUT, I will qualify that by saying it will be done legally. No being payed under the table or marrying anyone for a visa… yet. J
My week started with an extreme change. I am now a social worker at the CTRC. Intern just doesn’t accurately describe what it is I do so I have changed my title. I spend my days doing intake interviews, assessing peoples’ need, filling out requisition forms, and generally photocopying my life away. I can now add Namibia and Mozambique to the list of origin countries of people I’ve interviewed. Is it bad that I have a preference? I do not like speaking to people from francophone countries for the sole reason that I have to speak in French! It is extremely difficult to express to someone “I’m sorry, I’m just getting your information, we cannot give you any money today,” in English, but French is absolutely impossible! I want to convey actual remorse at not being able to help them but all that comes out is broken Franglais (yes, French-English) that I’m not even able to understand. This is how work is 3 days a week.
Wednesday was an strategy planning meeting at the Palms House Hotel (think fancy-shmancy) where we discussed the budget for the next year. My initial thinking was that I really did not have to be there, I served no purpose other than to eat free food and take up space. Midway through the meeting, roughly around hour 3, I realized how cool it was that I was there. We were discussing problems with the CTRC, how to resolve them, and the budget to be proposed to the UNHCR. I got to see how, with such a tiny budget, the CTRC is able to help thousands of people. I’m talking something around $700,000 helping thousands of people start small businesses, pay rent, medical expenses, funeral costs, get food, transport themselves, all in addition to building costs and employee salaries. Some days I just can’t help but think about how disorganized the CTRC is but then this blows my mind.
I would like to share how my day at work went Thursday. I feel it accurately portrays the ups and downs of my days at the CTRC. We got slammed with people coming in for transportation aid. Luckily I didn’t have to deal with this, instead, I received a massive stack of papers on my desk of people to interview. I did several of these in French and then a man from Namibia came in and absolutely broke my heart with his story. At around 12:30 pm I was getting ready to grab some lunch when in pops Stanley our security guard with the papers of some newly arrived refugees. When I say newly arrived, I mean newly arrived. They had been in South Africa for a total of 8 days, mostly in Pretoria but had spent the night before on the streets of Cape Town because they couldn’t find a place to stay. Apparently someone in Pretoria had told them that they could easily be helped in here… This speaks highly of the facilities in Cape Town but at the same time, the CTRC cannot handle a huge influx of refugees coming because someone said the grass is greener in Cape Town, as you will see in just a little bit. Truthfully, I was annoyed at having to deal with this as I had no idea what I was doing. The main social worker had left for the day and Christina was doing her own interviews thus this fell on me, a girl with 3 days of actual experience and feeling the crankiness that lack of breakfast and lunch brings. The main initiative was to find shelter for this man, his wife, and 9 month old child. I had to call a minimum of 10 shelters. No one would take them. They were either full, or they didn’t take children, or the phone number was wrong, or the wife didn’t speak enough English for the program. Then we moved onto mosques as at least the man was a practicing Muslim. Mosque after mosque would not take them. The couple agreed to separate and we still couldn’t find room for them. The couple agreed to stay in a church and still we couldn’t find room for them. I felt so helpless, as I’m sure they did. As the time drew nearer to tell them that their only option was another night on the streets, a womens shelter in Athlone called and said they had room for the wife and child. Christina told me to go with Stanley to transport them to the shelter, return, and find a place for the husband. Again I felt annoyance at having to do this, why did I have to go along and serve absolutely no purpose??? My entire attitude changed once we got there and I got to see the shelter. I really just took up space but it was so beneficial for me to see where a lot of our clients have to go when they first arrive in Cape Town. I was also able to talk to Stanley about life in South Africa on the drive. He served for 22 years in the South African Military as well as in the police force so he has a lot of stories to tell (quite a bit about how Observatory, where I live, is one of the most dangerous places…) When we passed Youngsfield Military base where a lot of Somali refugees work and live, he told me about his training there and pointed out some of the buildings. When we got back, Christina had already made arrangements for where the man was to go and Stanley took him right away, I didn’t tag along. I left work extremely drained, hungry, fulfilled at having “helped” and frustrated at not having been able to do more.
Outside of work, life in Cape Town is starting to fall into place. I’m discovering a routine and packing in as much as I can. Margarita Mondays are celebrated almost religiously, Tuesdays are for Xhosa, Wednesdays are for whatever plans get made, though they usually involve buy 1, get 1 free pizza at Babbos. Thursdays are for soccer with 3 people I know and 13 Euros, all from Norway, Holland, and Spain. I am the worst of all the players in addition to being the only girl. The cute boy from Holland kept apologizing to me when he’d knock me out of the way and I had Brandon there to encourage me, even when I gave the other team the ball… Oh gosh.
And finally, fridays usually consist of a planned activity with VAC. Yesterday we went to the Nyanga township to work on a community garden project. While others cleared fields, planted trees, started seedling pots, my job was to help paint a mural of a tree with hand prints as leaves. We got 4 or so kids to help us out and we made it a really fun experience. I can always be counted on to start a paint fight, so why should Nyanga be any different? After running around and around with the kids, I finally called time out due us being covered and to it being absolutely horrible paint that doesn’t wash out in water. The remedy to get this out? Soaking in paint thinner, lathering in Ammonia bathroom cleaner, and scrubbing like hell! I’ve showered 3 times since and I still can’t get it all off. It was such an amazing experience being there, working hard, hanging out with kids, I could probably do that every Friday afternoon. A mandatory beer was had at Scrumpy Jack’s upon return to Observatory, though we were all tired and dirty (and covered in paint that rubbed off onto the bar in the case of my roommate!) Fridays also tends to be the night to go out on the town. Me, I don’t enjoy this really as it means dressing up, getting a taxi, driving far, not knowing where we’re going, and staying out late. I am not so secretely an 80 year old woman at heart, so anything past 9:30 pm and I’m not a happy camper!
Last night we went to Long St. in Cape Town and I was able to see the massive party that it is. Just imagine club after bar after street food joint after club, stretching for blocks and blocks. Driving through or by it you see how empty the rest of the city is, everyone goes to Long Street! I would say the coolest thing about the night was sitting on the balcony of Dubliner just people-watching. I could have done that all night if only the wafting of street meat and mediterranean food hadn’t called our names from below.
Today I experienced a first. MY FIRST VIEWING OF A RUGBY MATCH WOOOOOO!!!! Me and Samantha met up with the other two interns from the CTRC to see Vodacom WP crush the Boland Kavaliers. As spring is officially here, the 85F temp brought us some rosy cheeks and color on the arm. I am not complaining! I was a complete novice before I entered the stadium, now I am a pro rugby spectator. Just don’t ask me the names of the positions, the scoring terms, the purpose of the scrum, or why these extremely large men stand behind each other and hike each others’ shorts up. The best part? The stadium is only 3 stops on the train away and the tickets (10th row back) were R50!!! Amazing! Cricket season in South Africa starts soon so I’ll be sure to go see one, or two, or a ton of those matches as well!
I will conclude by stating that I absolutely love my life here in Cape Town. The past summer I worked hard to become comfortable in my own skin. I feel that this is really paying off now as I have never felt more comfortable with who I am, as I have here. I am so glad that I made the choice to come here, and if I can find a way to stay in Cape Town indefinitely, I will. BUT, I will qualify that by saying it will be done legally. No being payed under the table or marrying anyone for a visa… yet. J
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I'm a big kid now!
The past week has been pretty intense as I have begun my internship at the Cape Town Refugee Centre. It blows my mind at what they do at the office, and I quickly realized how unqualified I am for this position. Monday started off with a meeting with my boss, Christina Henda, Director of the CTRC. We agreed that I would shadow a member of each of the three branches of the program: Psycho-Social Intervention (when she started throwing this word about as my specialty I almost shit my pants), Empowerment/Self-Reliance, and Education. After a getting an overview of each program I will pick my specialty, a single branch to work with for the next 10 weeks.
Three days a week the office is open to refugees to come in an make a case for receiving help with rent, food, courses, small business ventures, etc. As an introduction to the Psycho-Social Intervention branch I sat in on her interviews with the more problematic of the cases. I’ve been telling people that I’d be doing intake interviews as part of my internship but I never really understood what that would mean, it was just a term to throw about to pretend like I knew what I would be doing. My first day I got to experience them. They were absolutely crazy! Listening to people’s situations, what they need in terms of assistance, trying to figure out a plan with them, I mean, there is just so much to it. Not to mention that in the few days I have been there I have spoken with people from Zimbabwe, Somalia, Democratic Republic of Congo, Burundi, Rwanda, and Angola. Holy shit, this is a dream come true.
My third day I arrived at the office via train (all by myself, I’m a big kid now) and was immediately told that I was leaving. Where? The Haven Night Shelter in Green Point. For what? To put on a presentation about refugee rights… ok… This turned out to be an amazing experience, quite eye-opening really. Instead of presenting we opened it up as a forum for people to share what problems they experienced in the shelter, with refugees, in everyday life, etc. The residents weren’t all refugees but South Africans of all gender, color, religion, you name it. Xenophobia has been a big issue in recent history in South Africa. Some of our clients are victims of xenophobia in Cape Town. This was a big issue brought up in the forum, one which my boss would like me to focus on: holding workshops in this particular shelter to combat xenophobia. How? Not quite sure but I feel up for the task. That same day my new roommate arrived in Cape Town. Not only are we living together but she is working at the CTRC with me. We spent our night brainstorming sustainable programs to start at the CTRC. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night, working to change the world.
On a side note, it has become a running joke that the refugees think that I am in charge of the Centre… This arose during my first day, during one of the interviews one of the men would only speak to me though it was Christina asking the questions. At the forum Wednesday, we met one of our clients that I had spoken with the day before. She greeted me, completely ignoring my boss. Luckily Christina found this funny rather than rude, thus the joke began.
This past Thursday was Heritage Day, a public holiday celebrated across South Africa. I’m sure there is a more thorough explanation for it’s origination but for me, it meant a day to sleep in, dine with the other interns, and generally recover from my first few days at work. Supposedly Heritage Day is a day where everyone has a braai (bbq). We passed one on our way to coffee in the morning but alas, my South African roommates did not braai for us. Though a braai for me would typically be sad and depressing as I do not eat meat, I think I would try it at least once here. I mean, it’s not like I can make it to South Africa on a whim so for the chance to say I’ve tried it, why not? Speaking of roommates… After I challenged myself to get to know my South African roommates, the plan nose-dived.That is putting it lightly. One disappeared for a time and the other refused to acknowledge my presence. It was a complicated situation made weirder by the fact that we had never really been introduced… But, I am delighted to say that things are on the mend. Khaliso returned, and Pamusa spoke to me for the first time the other day sans glaring! Life is good again!
I would like to say that I have begun exploring Cape Town. Though the means by which I began were, how shall I put it, less than comforting, I have begun! On Saturday morning, me and Samantha set off on an adventure to Signal Hill and Lion’s Head despite some rough weather advisories. We’re both from the Pacific Northwest, we can handle some rain! We decided to do this the most inexpensive way we could: train then walking. We got down town on the train, took the first road we came to that headed straight, got to the base of the hill and began trekking up it. For a brief period we were followed by a strange man. Occasionally we would look back and see him sitting down in the tall grass, only his hat exposed. We followed a network of trails until we reached a barbed-wire fence which announced the presence of the noon gun! It was such a treat to come across it when we had only expected to see Signal Hill. The canon is fired everyday at noon from a now defunct military installation and luckily we were able to hear much farther down the trail.
After taking some pictures and getting glares from a 10 year old, we set out again up the hill. An old service road offered us a sheltered path up most of Signal Hill though we were fairly isolated from any human contact. I’ll try to describe those moments: Two girls dressed in hiking attire. Gravel road heading uphill into the forest. Beautiful wild flowers surrounding the road. Foreign trees. Being in nature, in the middle of a an industrialized city. Having to remind ourselves that we are in Africa! By the time we reached the top of Signal Hill the weather had severely picked up. We found ourselves in the midst of quickly passing clouds wrecking havoc on the city and coastline below. Lion’s Head and Table Mountain were completely out of sight. The wind was so intense that standing on the ledge overlooking the Atlantic, me and Samantha had to yell at each other though we were standing a foot apart. It seems almost wrong to scream at someone how beautiful the scenery is when the wind is absolutely howling and you’d rather be away from the ledge. We scrapped our plans for climbing Lion’s Head as it would be pretty dangerous, apparently there are chains and ladders involved in the hike, not something you want to do when you can’t see anything but clouds. Thus we descended the hill, all the while listening to the call to prayer from the city mingling with the rustling trees. I must say, I absolutely love life in Cape Town so far!
Three days a week the office is open to refugees to come in an make a case for receiving help with rent, food, courses, small business ventures, etc. As an introduction to the Psycho-Social Intervention branch I sat in on her interviews with the more problematic of the cases. I’ve been telling people that I’d be doing intake interviews as part of my internship but I never really understood what that would mean, it was just a term to throw about to pretend like I knew what I would be doing. My first day I got to experience them. They were absolutely crazy! Listening to people’s situations, what they need in terms of assistance, trying to figure out a plan with them, I mean, there is just so much to it. Not to mention that in the few days I have been there I have spoken with people from Zimbabwe, Somalia, Democratic Republic of Congo, Burundi, Rwanda, and Angola. Holy shit, this is a dream come true.
My third day I arrived at the office via train (all by myself, I’m a big kid now) and was immediately told that I was leaving. Where? The Haven Night Shelter in Green Point. For what? To put on a presentation about refugee rights… ok… This turned out to be an amazing experience, quite eye-opening really. Instead of presenting we opened it up as a forum for people to share what problems they experienced in the shelter, with refugees, in everyday life, etc. The residents weren’t all refugees but South Africans of all gender, color, religion, you name it. Xenophobia has been a big issue in recent history in South Africa. Some of our clients are victims of xenophobia in Cape Town. This was a big issue brought up in the forum, one which my boss would like me to focus on: holding workshops in this particular shelter to combat xenophobia. How? Not quite sure but I feel up for the task. That same day my new roommate arrived in Cape Town. Not only are we living together but she is working at the CTRC with me. We spent our night brainstorming sustainable programs to start at the CTRC. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night, working to change the world.
On a side note, it has become a running joke that the refugees think that I am in charge of the Centre… This arose during my first day, during one of the interviews one of the men would only speak to me though it was Christina asking the questions. At the forum Wednesday, we met one of our clients that I had spoken with the day before. She greeted me, completely ignoring my boss. Luckily Christina found this funny rather than rude, thus the joke began.
This past Thursday was Heritage Day, a public holiday celebrated across South Africa. I’m sure there is a more thorough explanation for it’s origination but for me, it meant a day to sleep in, dine with the other interns, and generally recover from my first few days at work. Supposedly Heritage Day is a day where everyone has a braai (bbq). We passed one on our way to coffee in the morning but alas, my South African roommates did not braai for us. Though a braai for me would typically be sad and depressing as I do not eat meat, I think I would try it at least once here. I mean, it’s not like I can make it to South Africa on a whim so for the chance to say I’ve tried it, why not? Speaking of roommates… After I challenged myself to get to know my South African roommates, the plan nose-dived.That is putting it lightly. One disappeared for a time and the other refused to acknowledge my presence. It was a complicated situation made weirder by the fact that we had never really been introduced… But, I am delighted to say that things are on the mend. Khaliso returned, and Pamusa spoke to me for the first time the other day sans glaring! Life is good again!
I would like to say that I have begun exploring Cape Town. Though the means by which I began were, how shall I put it, less than comforting, I have begun! On Saturday morning, me and Samantha set off on an adventure to Signal Hill and Lion’s Head despite some rough weather advisories. We’re both from the Pacific Northwest, we can handle some rain! We decided to do this the most inexpensive way we could: train then walking. We got down town on the train, took the first road we came to that headed straight, got to the base of the hill and began trekking up it. For a brief period we were followed by a strange man. Occasionally we would look back and see him sitting down in the tall grass, only his hat exposed. We followed a network of trails until we reached a barbed-wire fence which announced the presence of the noon gun! It was such a treat to come across it when we had only expected to see Signal Hill. The canon is fired everyday at noon from a now defunct military installation and luckily we were able to hear much farther down the trail.
After taking some pictures and getting glares from a 10 year old, we set out again up the hill. An old service road offered us a sheltered path up most of Signal Hill though we were fairly isolated from any human contact. I’ll try to describe those moments: Two girls dressed in hiking attire. Gravel road heading uphill into the forest. Beautiful wild flowers surrounding the road. Foreign trees. Being in nature, in the middle of a an industrialized city. Having to remind ourselves that we are in Africa! By the time we reached the top of Signal Hill the weather had severely picked up. We found ourselves in the midst of quickly passing clouds wrecking havoc on the city and coastline below. Lion’s Head and Table Mountain were completely out of sight. The wind was so intense that standing on the ledge overlooking the Atlantic, me and Samantha had to yell at each other though we were standing a foot apart. It seems almost wrong to scream at someone how beautiful the scenery is when the wind is absolutely howling and you’d rather be away from the ledge. We scrapped our plans for climbing Lion’s Head as it would be pretty dangerous, apparently there are chains and ladders involved in the hike, not something you want to do when you can’t see anything but clouds. Thus we descended the hill, all the while listening to the call to prayer from the city mingling with the rustling trees. I must say, I absolutely love life in Cape Town so far!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
First days.
I have made it safely to my house in Observatory, Cape Town, South Africa after 3 horrendously long flights and one extremely abrasive and racist man who unfortunately gave me my first impression of Cape Town. I don’t think I’ve met a more eclectic group of people than I did on my flight to Amsterdam, it was truly a who’s who of world travelers. A surprising number of them were going to Africa, including my seat mate, a Yemeni-Afghan man going home to Kenya. My window seat on my flight to Cape Town offered me a spectacular view of the entire continent. Though I slept intermittently, I got to see the coast of Algeria, sand dunes that resemble ripples in a lake from 35,000 feet that make up the Sahara desert, the coast of Ghana, and the darkness that overtook southern Africa as night fell. When you fly over the States at night you can often see the lights of towns, cities, and the interstates that connect them. Southern Africa was an ocean of darkness that didn’t let up until Cape Town. We flew directly over the city center so I was able to make out Robben Island and the sparkling new football (soccer) stadium built for the 2010 World Cup. I was confused trying to figure out what the dark patches that intersected the city were. At night I would never be able to figure out this conundrum but by the light of day the massive rock faces of Devil’s Peak, Table Mountain, Lion’s Head, and Signal Hill dominate every view. I couldn’t believe that these peaks are RIGHT THERE(!!!) when I walked out of the hostel in the morning. I hope to be always be amazed by this view during my stay here.
My first day in Cape Town was extremely eventful. I was picked up at the hostel by my local director Jon who is a self-proclaimed wild boy, police reservist who despite some psychological problems, now gets to have whichever gun he wants. This might normally be a little disconcerting but I find it quite comforting. He has assured me that if I ever feel unsafe to call him and he will be on his way to come pick me up, and that if for some reason he can’t get there quick enough, he will call his cop buddies to come get me. After moving into my house and a trip to the VAC office for orientation, Jon took me to the waterfront, put me on a hop-on hop-off tour bus, and said call me when you’re done. I was driven all over the city and was able to moderately orient myself within the city. Unfortunately when I tried quizzing myself later as I passed a familiar building (Castle of Good Hope), instead of pointing to the waterfront as I expected, I was in fact pointing to Table Mountain. Hopefully I will get better at this. After the tour, Jon took me on an impromptu drive out to Hout Bay to run a work errand, thus I got to see more beautiful resort towns that line the Cape southward. On the way back, we took the inland route and drove by vineyard after vineyard making it the perfect drive, as well as introduction to Cape Town.
Later that night I met most of the other interns for dinner and drinks in the neighborhood. This group of people is pretty close-knit so by the first day I discovered that I had inherited a large number of friends who are constantly planning excursions, dinners, holidays (my Halloween and Thanksgiving are already planned), and shopping trips into the city. I definitely didn’t expect this. I will have to make sure that I am making an effort to meet South Africans. That was a problem for me in Jordan as I hung out almost exclusively with people from my program. The Jordanians that I did meet and befriend were definitely from a specific grouping and in my opinion, didn’t represent the majority of their age-group. Here, I have two South African roommates who I occasionally run into but there doesn’t seem to be the same bond as I have with the interns, granted this is only like my 3rd or 4th day. I will make more of an effort and do better, though when they have their friends over at 4 AM I can’t make any promises.
The last two days have been made up of wine tasting and adventures with the interns. Friday was wine tasting at Constantia Uitsig and Constantia Groot. Constantia is the name of the valley where these vineyards are located and are literally 20 minutes from my house. These were extremely classy tastings and if our driver hadn’t have been late, and thus forced us to pull up to these tastings, all of us piled into the bed of the program director’s truck, I might have felt like an actual grown-up. No matter what it was still a chance for me to explore the valley as well as meet the program employees. Like I said earlier, I just can’t get over the backdrop of the entire area. These vineyards lay on the slopes of Table Mountain and the other peaks that stretch down the cape. The views are absolutely amazing and worthy of a better description than I could possibly write.
The next morning my big adventure started. Several of us joined a tour led by downhill adventures which took us on a driving tour down through Hout Bay, back through the Constantia Valley, and down to False Bay via Muizenburg. If I go surfing while I’m here it will most likely be at Muizenburg. The area is experiencing its Whale Fest at the moment. From the shore we were able to see about 5 Southern Right Whales in the shallows about 300 yards out from the surfers. Amazing. From Muizenburg we drove south to Fishhoek (pronounced like a fish hook), then to Simon’s Town for some penguin watching at Boulder’s Beach, before heading to the Cape of Good Hope Park. Upon entering the park our guides set us up on some rickety mountain bikes, told us it was an easy 5k, and he’ll see us at the end. The ride was amazing… minus being stuck in 1st gear, my seat collapsing, and the huge hills. Not even those minor details could detract from the amazing views that surrounded us, yes not even the baboons that ran at me could phase me. Ok, they did. I screamed. But I kept right on going and that’s the important part! From the lighthouse at the Cape Point we could see where the Indian Ocean meets the Atlantic and the beautiful blues of the waves as they crashed on the rocks far below. Our next stop was at the bottom of the peak to visit the most South-Western point of Africa: The Cape of Good Hope. There we were greeted by several ostriches sun-bathing on the side of the road and lots of Korean tourists. TIA. This is Africa.
After a spot of wine tasting at Groot Constantia (they are getting to really know us there) we were headed home to celebrate my roommate’s birthday. We went to Khaya Nyama on Long St. for some game. Yes, game. While the waiter gave me a disappointing sigh for ordering the veggie lasagna (terrible, but then again who orders lasagna when zebra is on the menu?) the other interns ordered kudu, warthog, and various other game meats. I tried the kudu, it tastes like steak. Meanwhile, the heads of all of our counterparts who lent their bodies to our meals adorned the walls. I hope to be able to try the traditional Cape Malay food but so far it has been sandwiches, pizza, French toast, and lasagna for me. It is really hard to find traditional food in an area that is so cultural that American, Halaal, and French food places line the streets.
So in the span of just a few days I have been able to cross of many of the things on my to-do list for Cape Town. Before arriving I had been hoping to do a side trip to Botswana. Although there is still a chance of that, a trip to Mozambique has started to look better and better. I don’t think I’d see the side of Mozambique that Katie has seen, this would be more of a beachfront vacation with other interns, including snorkeling, sunbathing, and general bumming about. We shall see. Tomorrow is a new day. I start my internship tomorrow. I’m sure it will provide me with a lot of new opportunities and I’m sure my plans will change along with it. So here’s to tomorrow.
My first day in Cape Town was extremely eventful. I was picked up at the hostel by my local director Jon who is a self-proclaimed wild boy, police reservist who despite some psychological problems, now gets to have whichever gun he wants. This might normally be a little disconcerting but I find it quite comforting. He has assured me that if I ever feel unsafe to call him and he will be on his way to come pick me up, and that if for some reason he can’t get there quick enough, he will call his cop buddies to come get me. After moving into my house and a trip to the VAC office for orientation, Jon took me to the waterfront, put me on a hop-on hop-off tour bus, and said call me when you’re done. I was driven all over the city and was able to moderately orient myself within the city. Unfortunately when I tried quizzing myself later as I passed a familiar building (Castle of Good Hope), instead of pointing to the waterfront as I expected, I was in fact pointing to Table Mountain. Hopefully I will get better at this. After the tour, Jon took me on an impromptu drive out to Hout Bay to run a work errand, thus I got to see more beautiful resort towns that line the Cape southward. On the way back, we took the inland route and drove by vineyard after vineyard making it the perfect drive, as well as introduction to Cape Town.
Later that night I met most of the other interns for dinner and drinks in the neighborhood. This group of people is pretty close-knit so by the first day I discovered that I had inherited a large number of friends who are constantly planning excursions, dinners, holidays (my Halloween and Thanksgiving are already planned), and shopping trips into the city. I definitely didn’t expect this. I will have to make sure that I am making an effort to meet South Africans. That was a problem for me in Jordan as I hung out almost exclusively with people from my program. The Jordanians that I did meet and befriend were definitely from a specific grouping and in my opinion, didn’t represent the majority of their age-group. Here, I have two South African roommates who I occasionally run into but there doesn’t seem to be the same bond as I have with the interns, granted this is only like my 3rd or 4th day. I will make more of an effort and do better, though when they have their friends over at 4 AM I can’t make any promises.
The last two days have been made up of wine tasting and adventures with the interns. Friday was wine tasting at Constantia Uitsig and Constantia Groot. Constantia is the name of the valley where these vineyards are located and are literally 20 minutes from my house. These were extremely classy tastings and if our driver hadn’t have been late, and thus forced us to pull up to these tastings, all of us piled into the bed of the program director’s truck, I might have felt like an actual grown-up. No matter what it was still a chance for me to explore the valley as well as meet the program employees. Like I said earlier, I just can’t get over the backdrop of the entire area. These vineyards lay on the slopes of Table Mountain and the other peaks that stretch down the cape. The views are absolutely amazing and worthy of a better description than I could possibly write.
The next morning my big adventure started. Several of us joined a tour led by downhill adventures which took us on a driving tour down through Hout Bay, back through the Constantia Valley, and down to False Bay via Muizenburg. If I go surfing while I’m here it will most likely be at Muizenburg. The area is experiencing its Whale Fest at the moment. From the shore we were able to see about 5 Southern Right Whales in the shallows about 300 yards out from the surfers. Amazing. From Muizenburg we drove south to Fishhoek (pronounced like a fish hook), then to Simon’s Town for some penguin watching at Boulder’s Beach, before heading to the Cape of Good Hope Park. Upon entering the park our guides set us up on some rickety mountain bikes, told us it was an easy 5k, and he’ll see us at the end. The ride was amazing… minus being stuck in 1st gear, my seat collapsing, and the huge hills. Not even those minor details could detract from the amazing views that surrounded us, yes not even the baboons that ran at me could phase me. Ok, they did. I screamed. But I kept right on going and that’s the important part! From the lighthouse at the Cape Point we could see where the Indian Ocean meets the Atlantic and the beautiful blues of the waves as they crashed on the rocks far below. Our next stop was at the bottom of the peak to visit the most South-Western point of Africa: The Cape of Good Hope. There we were greeted by several ostriches sun-bathing on the side of the road and lots of Korean tourists. TIA. This is Africa.
After a spot of wine tasting at Groot Constantia (they are getting to really know us there) we were headed home to celebrate my roommate’s birthday. We went to Khaya Nyama on Long St. for some game. Yes, game. While the waiter gave me a disappointing sigh for ordering the veggie lasagna (terrible, but then again who orders lasagna when zebra is on the menu?) the other interns ordered kudu, warthog, and various other game meats. I tried the kudu, it tastes like steak. Meanwhile, the heads of all of our counterparts who lent their bodies to our meals adorned the walls. I hope to be able to try the traditional Cape Malay food but so far it has been sandwiches, pizza, French toast, and lasagna for me. It is really hard to find traditional food in an area that is so cultural that American, Halaal, and French food places line the streets.
So in the span of just a few days I have been able to cross of many of the things on my to-do list for Cape Town. Before arriving I had been hoping to do a side trip to Botswana. Although there is still a chance of that, a trip to Mozambique has started to look better and better. I don’t think I’d see the side of Mozambique that Katie has seen, this would be more of a beachfront vacation with other interns, including snorkeling, sunbathing, and general bumming about. We shall see. Tomorrow is a new day. I start my internship tomorrow. I’m sure it will provide me with a lot of new opportunities and I’m sure my plans will change along with it. So here’s to tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
15 Hours and counting.
In 15 hours I depart for Cape Town, South Africa. My stay there will be relatively short (2.5 months) but to better keep in contact with friends and family I have created this blog. I will update it periodically with goings-on, photos, and descriptions of life in Cape Town as well as my internship.
The reason for my trip to South Africa is to gain some field/work experience in the form of an internship at the Cape Town Refugee Centre. To me, this is the dream internship. I spent 5 stressful, wonderful, amazing, hard, and worthwhile months living in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. While I was there I lived among a refugee population of millions. It was there that I saw the Israel-Palestinian conflict from three very different angles: the Jordanians, forced to take in and support their brothers who remain a people apart, the Palestinians, struggling between assimilation and seemingly hopeless nationalism, and finally the Israelis, playing both bully and victim yet still facing a very real security threat everyday. This fascinated me during my stay and surprisingly stayed with me as I returned to my senior year at WWU.
In February as I pondered my entrance in the "real world", this internship fell into my lap. Working with refugees was the dominating factor in why I chose this particular internship over others in different locations offered by the same program. I will admit that the other options apart from any internship I had been considering were joining the Sea Shepard crew aboard the Steve Irwin as documented on the television show Whale Wars, or flying to Israel to join ICAHD and protest house demolitions in the West Bank. This would most likely be achieved by chaining myself to said homes. Working at the Refugee Centre appeared to be the sanest choice and here I sit counting down the hours until my flight departs!
I'll try to best describe life in Cape Town but if there is anything you'd like to know, please leave me a comment and I'll answer it if I can. If you're searching for more information on my home country for the next few months the CIA world factbook gives some pretty black and white information on it.
The reason for my trip to South Africa is to gain some field/work experience in the form of an internship at the Cape Town Refugee Centre. To me, this is the dream internship. I spent 5 stressful, wonderful, amazing, hard, and worthwhile months living in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. While I was there I lived among a refugee population of millions. It was there that I saw the Israel-Palestinian conflict from three very different angles: the Jordanians, forced to take in and support their brothers who remain a people apart, the Palestinians, struggling between assimilation and seemingly hopeless nationalism, and finally the Israelis, playing both bully and victim yet still facing a very real security threat everyday. This fascinated me during my stay and surprisingly stayed with me as I returned to my senior year at WWU.
In February as I pondered my entrance in the "real world", this internship fell into my lap. Working with refugees was the dominating factor in why I chose this particular internship over others in different locations offered by the same program. I will admit that the other options apart from any internship I had been considering were joining the Sea Shepard crew aboard the Steve Irwin as documented on the television show Whale Wars, or flying to Israel to join ICAHD and protest house demolitions in the West Bank. This would most likely be achieved by chaining myself to said homes. Working at the Refugee Centre appeared to be the sanest choice and here I sit counting down the hours until my flight departs!
I'll try to best describe life in Cape Town but if there is anything you'd like to know, please leave me a comment and I'll answer it if I can. If you're searching for more information on my home country for the next few months the CIA world factbook gives some pretty black and white information on it.
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