Toy-gah Toy-gah

South African colloquialism lesson of the day: Tiger Tiger is such a hectic jol. Translation: Tiger Tiger is a crazy party. Now let's add in a little South African accent, shall we? Tiger Tiger would sound a lot like Toy-gah Toy-gah. Once you've got that down, then you have to master the art of saying it in a way that implies you've been there a million times and are unfazed by the chaos. Then, if by chance you're the one in a million who can fake the Cape Town accent (even Leonardo DiCaprio in Blood Diamond failed miserably, according to my local bru) then you just might be able to pass for a local.

Every well off white person in South Africa converges upon Tiger on Tuesday evenings. After a $3 cab ride, split between 5 people (are you kidding me?) we arrived at the red carpet. That was not a joke. There was actually a red carpet. The cover was about $4 - so pricey- but we sprang for it because we had to know what was inside this local watering hole. Once inside we were greeted with the aryan faces of Cape Town's elite. Their blonde eyebrows were tweezed into perfectly quizzical arches that seemed to ask: who the hell are you? We planted ourselves at a table and absorbed our surroundings, which were miles fancier than anywhere else I've been in Africa thus far. We tentatively accepted drinks from men that were wearing more make up than us-- the women here seem to like their men to be manicured in ways I never thought heterosexual. Quickly more and more people filtered in and, to my surprise, they hit the dance floor... and they hit it hard. We journeyed out tentatively and began to dance to the exclusively American jams. Then the evening took an interesting turn... the people around us began to get very wild. Brus were smashing glass bottles on the dance floor. We danced for hours despite profuse bleeding from my finger caused by the bottle throwing.

When we finally got home we were destroyed with exhaustion, our feet were purple from dancing and our legs were burning. The music had been so loud that I couldn't hear anything until after I slept (healthy). And though the night was unexpectedly full of fun in a way we had never pictured, the next day when we were asked what we did the night before, we responded nonchalantly, "Oh you know, Toy-gah Toy-gah."

Last night we went to stones, which is a cool pool hall and I hung out with Junaid and Styx while Marlee and Kat got friendly with some locals. There is a culture of cigarette smoking here and while I obviously don't ascribe to it, it was interesting to watch J and S roll their own with a pouch of tobacco. My guess is that cigarettes are crazy cheap here because the government has bigger problems in the health department and can't be bothered to tax them the way its done in the states. Either way, judging from my first 3 weeks here (wow, that went by quickly!) I've noticed a pretty severe alcohol and cigarette problem. I've said it before and I'll say it again: New Orleans and Cape Town are twin souls.

Love from Toy-gah Toy-gah,

A

Let the games begin

Week one of classes: day 3. I had to drop a 1st period class because I quite literally missed all the lectures this week. My alarm wouldn't cooperate and I took it as nature's way of telling me that an 8 am class simply wasn't in the cards for me. So I've been getting to my Game Theory course, meeting at 9 AM, then International Trade Bargaining at 10 and Medicine in the Making of Modern South Africa at 11. It's nice to be out of class at a reasonable hour and have the rest of the day to myself. I'm getting into the groove of hitting the gym when its not crowded in the early afternoon.

On a more interesting note, UCT's billion students have arrived from all points and converged on campus for the beginning of classes, so we're just starting to meet our peers. I've been pulled into a crowd of hipsters, which makes me feel miles cooler than I actually am. They liked my Nike dunks and decided I had the right vibe and was sufficiently "chilled" enough to fit in with their group. My two better friends in the group are Styx and Junaid. Styx is a tall black kid with a huge afro and awesome style (naturally, as he is a hipster). Junaid is super laid back, loves "trance" music and while he looks like a dark italian, is considered "colored."

I even got to sit with them on The Steps. The Steps provide a forum for mass people watching. All types of people filter up and down with the backdrop of Table Mountain looming on one side and the entire city stretched out in the distance on the other. Just like any school there are students filling types which include but are not limited to: polo-wearing eurotrash, punk rockers, hipsters, fashionistas, shorts-too-short jocks (South Africa hasn't gotten the memo from the 1990's mandating that men lengthen their shorts to above the knee. We get an eyeful of man thigh here) and a whole other spectrum of in betweens.

For as forwad-thinking as some of the fashionable, blackberry carrying students are, this country has not thought so far as machine dryers for clothing. We literally wash our clothes in a washer that's around a square foot in size and then hang our clothing on lines. The things we take for granted, man.

More later about Tiger Tiger last night. Two words to tease you: EURO TRASH.

My love from The Steps,

A

Ode to Mini Bus Taxis

This one goes out to a phenomenon in South Africa that I call The Mini Bus Taxi-- or "Kumvees." Woah, that spelling is wildly unclear and probably inaccurate.

Here in South Africa not everyone can afford an 100R or 120R cab ride to the Waterfront (this is around $14-17). For this reason, society came together to create the kumvee. Envision a large mini van where the interior has been altered to jam as many people inside as possible. Seats have been replaced by benches that fold down so people can climb over eachother in an effort to hitch a ride. Massive speakers that probably cost more than the car vibrate the vehicle and its contents with the Kumvee driver's favorite tunes (ranging from 80's Whitney Housten to SA hip hop to the latest Justin Bieber album). These things are EVERYWHERE. Living on Main Road I hear the cries of the part of the operation that I refer to as "the yeller": a guy that rides in the back with the passengers and shouts out the window at people walking to get into the kumvee. "WINEBERGGGGG!!!!" or "CAAAAYYYPEEE TOWWUUN" peppers the soundtrack of whizzing mufflerless 18 wheelers and honking locals. This is my version of bedtime magic.

These bus taxis cost around 6R or $0.75 for a 30 minute cab ride that can't be described on any planet as glamorous. You never know where you're going to end up in the back... perhaps sandwiched between a woman carrying her baby around on her back with a towel and someone who hasn't bathed in 3 weeks. Or you might get lucky and find yourself next to a sharp dressed business man on his way to anywhere and a colored hipster who's too cool to glace your direction. Its an exotic mix of rich and poor, old and young. Trendy, ugly, intriguing, annoyed. And then there's us. Eyes wide. Heads moving along with the music coming out the speakers, thinking: this is like nothing I've ever known.

Because in our country we pay to never get this close. Our seats are wider. Our disdain for human contact more pressing than our desire to save money. Here this is a way of life, forced upon those who have no other option, and chosen by those who know how lucky they are to have the choice.

One small downside is that these kumvees are not safe to ride in after dark or alone. Naturally they turn into rape vans when the sun sets-- strange that the notion feels natural. The kumvee companies are apparently also involved in gang wars and I will unhappily report that I witnessed The Yeller in our kumvee get into a fist fight with someone on the street.

Concessions made and put aside, when used judiciously these mini bus taxis are an extremely affordable and efficient way to get around town. They make me wonder: why can't New Orleans figure rip a page out of Cape Town's book?

Love from my new favorite mode of transportation,


A

Getting Vertical

Howzit, my friends? That's a little SA lingo for y'all. Sorry it's been a while... You know how it is. I've fully recovered and am happy to report that I'm off the food tolerance drugs (proton pump inhibitors if we want to get really specific). THANK GOD.

If there's one thing that South Africa is teaching me, its to be more patient. The lack of electronic-based registration made signing up for courses an absolute logistical nightmare. People stood in line after line for hours on end to get their selections approved, then to enter the information into a database, then to get their poorly lit photo taken for their ID card. Luckily, I'm a commerce student and there were many fewer people trying to register than in the faculty of humanities. Either way, it was 4 hours of waiting in line.

Alas, it's done now and I'm officially registered for Game Theory, Development Econ, Trade Bargaining (really cool course where you're assigned a country and try to negociate with others), and Chemistry of Health and Disease. Many drop one of these courses in favor of picking up some Afrikaans... it would be interesting to know what people are saying when they rapidly interchange.

I have been immersing myself much more than at first and I'm proud to report that I went out with some South African girls on Thursday night with Marlee in tow. They had us over at their apartment and they gave us a run down of how relationships work here in SA. Here's what I gathered:

Women and men who are dating both cheat on each other regularly. But they mustn't give their boyfriend or girlfriend any indication that its happening. Lerato informed me that "if your boyfriend isn't lying to you, you're doing something wrong."

I was also shocked to hear that the men that these girls have extra-relationship affairs with are often wealthy and paying their tuition, buying them clothing, jewelry and alcohol. When I tried to make sense of this I used the term "sugar daddy" which they rejected fully on the grounds that sugar daddy implies the men are old, which they are not (they are around 35 in most cases). They call these men their BDD's. I don't know what that stands for yet, but I will keep you posted.

Something else that took my breath away: hiking to the monument yesterday! Hiking is a really popular activity here so my friend Spencer from Oregon and I finished with registration and decided to check out the gorgeous Roman-esque monument carved into the side of Table Mountain. Spencer had heard of a restaurant behind it so we went to explore but unfortunately found that it was closed due to vandalism. We DID find an incredible garden area that overlooks the entire city. It was definitely a gem. After we hiked down we proceeded to play 3 hours of volleyball with Quinton, the program director, and a ton of other CIEE people. I had to try hard to represent female athleticism as I was the only girl playing, but it ended up being really fun.

Today, myself, Spencer and some other friends have plans to go to Camps Bay-- one of the most beautiful beaches in Cape Town. The weather's starting to get warmer and we're all excited to spend some time outside. Marlee is hiking Devil's Peak, which I hope to do soon as well once I'm feeling 100%, as it is a 5 hour vertical climb.


Love from the back of a lion,


A

The most romantic thing that's ever happened to Marlee and I

This picture pretty much sums up the most romantic moment of our lives. As the note implies, we met a couple guys at this place called stones who go to UCT. They took us for milkshakes at Pickwicks and then we parted ways thinking we'd never see them again. When Marlee and I got home from town, Kat handed us an adorable note they'd dropped off at our house when they noticed our billboard driving by. American men, take note.

I've recovered from from the evil parasitic food poisoning that left me completely dead yesterday. I threw up 15 times over the space of 12 hours and when Marlee came home I was too feverish, dehydrated and weak to move. She nursed me back to health and once I'd taken some sports drink and panado (some sort of African drug brought to me by RA) I was feeling a million times better. I slept for arouns 11 hours last night and awoke this morning feeling STARVING and actually looking like I'd dropped 10 lbs in a day. Luckily Cocoa Wah Wah solved that problem for me and I got a chocolate and almond croissant for breakfast. Food has never tasted so good.

Today we've got another round of UCT orientation beginning at 1 pm and hopefully we'll learn more about course registration etc. It's nice to begin to feel settled in and I cannot wait for classes and community service to begin! A gym membership would be a nice perk, as well!

Love from the "score safely" house,

A

Marlee and Me

We have moved into our flat on 2 Mead0w Street AKA "Roxy"! Marlee and I have a MASSIVE room on the second floor street side. Its certainly not the ritziest of flats as we have mangled bars on the windows and a massive billboard that says "SCORE SAFELY" advertising condom use on the side of it but we're lucky to have a security guard who watches over us during the night-- he even went so far as to radio the guard at Nursery house to escort us to the internet cafe in Rondebosch this evening.

Its the feeling of being on constant edge that gets you. Groups of women walking around here are not safe from dusk on. Even during the day we're bombarded by the poor and addicted for money or food. They're different from the homeless in the US because they don't have anywhere to go. There aren't soup kitchens and shelters and government sponsored rehabilitation programs. Its as if God has turned his back on these people. And its policy to not give beggars money because there are simply too many of them. Its a desperation that I've never known. This is the starving Africa you see on TV, and its on the doorstep of the wealthy who continue to retain their economic dominance post-Apartheid.

The racial tension hit me like a slap in the face. Some Black or Colored South Africans (there is a difference) look on White Americans with disdain, and others with admiration for the things we have that we may not deserve. South Africa has the largest race-based income disparity in the world, where the wealthiest 10% make almost 50% of the income and the poorest 20% only around 3%. In more ways then I can mention this place is a more extreme version of New Orleans ranging from the socio-economic climate to the Bourbon-esque Long Street.

On a lighter note, today I discovered the joys of "Brai" pronounced "bry" which is barbeque. These are very popular all over South Africa. We ate lamb and salad and potatoes that were all seasoned with novel spices. I was pleased to try new things, but last night at The African Palace I most certainly passed on the Ox Tail that was served... no thanks. There was also coke light, which is kind of like coke zero-- diet coke doesn't exist here.

Peering out the Cocoa Wah-Wah window at the cars rushing by with a green tea in my hand and Marlee to my right, I feel a moment of serenity and security that will be rare during these 4 months. The energy of young country were people dance when they are angry and fight with their fists instead of their words electrifies me. It shakes me hard, but it can also hold me in its arms.

All my love from Roxy,

A

The Lead Singer in a Rock Band

Out on Long Street last night, I had my first taste of fame, dear readers. With all the whirling excitement in this city, my fellow program-mates and I had been indulging a bit too regularly, so last night I resigned myself to completely abstain from all things alcoholic. I assumed wrongly that I wouldn't have as much fun last night as my friends... boy was I wrong. At first I had to push myself to socialize with my chatty and overly sociable counterparts, but as the evening went on and we changed location to a bar with an awesome cover band I discovered that the real glory of the night was still mine to be won. While dancing inside the completely packed Dubliner (we're talking 100+ people), the lead singer of the cover band pulled me on stage with him and handed me the microphone to sing a song. After it as over, I went to leave and he invited me to sing another... and then another... and then another. My friends and I decided it was time to go so I finished the set (!!!) and hopped off the stage, but before I left I was invited to come back on Sunday evening. Is this real life?

Every rose has its thorn, as they say. And while I woke up feeling pretty good, I opened my mouth to speak and discovered that last night's vocals caused a total system shutdown. My voice has been cracking like a little boy's all day but I have to say that it was completely worth it.

Later in the evening we returned to the first bar called "The Waiting Room" and were allowed up to the rooftop area. From there we could see the entire Cape Town skyline and it was really a beautiful thing.

This morning we rose early to visit possible service sites for our time abroad. The one that most interests me is a pediatric TB hospital. The children are not contagious but they are very lonely and scared because they are forced to live in the home without their parents until their course of treatment is complete. When we visited today, a certain little boy looked up at me and cried "mama!" then hopped into my arms and put his head on my shoulder. He whimpered when I left but I promised him I'd come back. I took some pictures of him and the other children that I hope to post as soon as I solve my computer woes.

In other news, tomorrow is Move-In Day! I can't believe it! I'm living in a house with 15 other students (11 female, 4 male) from my program. I'll be sharing a room with my friend Marlee from Connecticut-- I can't sum up how awesome she is in words but she and I have had the opportunity to get some classic roommate pictures that I think sum up the friendship so far. Our place has great location in Rondebosch which is the town area by campus. I think its going to be an Animal House situation with all of us living in there, so I'm bracing to hold on to my hat for this one.

But luckily, if I forget to hold on to my hat, I can always buy a new one for CHEAP. Here's a rundown of how outrageous pricing is here:

1. Good meal - 50 rand or $7
2. 20 minute cab ride - 15 rand or $2
3. Cocktail - 24 rand or a little over $3

It obviously depends where you are because in touristy or rich areas pricing is inflated but its still shocking to be able to get around so cheaply when I'm used to dropping $30 on a cab in NOLA just to get to Tulane from the airport.

It is time for a nap before Marlee and I hit up the Cocoa Wah-Wah for some coffee and interneting and possibly some warm clothing finding... ITS FREEZING HERE! Cross your fingers for it to warm up!

Love from Long Street,

A

A post dedicated to Eric

Eric would like a shout out in my blog because it will make him feel like a celebrity. So readers, before I get into today's post, I would just like to say that Eric is a massively attractive and tall Scandanavian Christian looking for love in South Africa. If he sounds like someone you want to get to know a little better, he lives Graca til Saturday and is now accepting dates.

Moving on, today has been eventful. I woke up with terrible dry mouth due to last night's wino tendencies and was being chronically annoyed by the laughter of some housekeeping staff in the hallway. After trying unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, I crawled out of my neat little bed and stumbled into the hallway looking for water and for someone to feel sorry for me. What I found instead was 30 of my new program-mates arriving from the airport with suitcases in tow looking wide-eyed. I managed to get out a hello before walking contact-less to the elevator in search of liquid. I located some orange juice and began to feel revived.

We moved rooms today and I was so excited to arrange living with Carrie for the next few days. Carrie is a carefree California girl whose claim to fame is good driving abilities. She goes to Occidental College in SF and we're definitely on a similar wavelength which is really nice. After hounding the other members of a group we have dubbed "The Orphanage" I finally got my people together to get breakfast at our new favorite spot... DRUM ROLL: The Cocoa Wah-Wah. This place is the absolute BOMB. It's a little breakfast place on Main Road that has great coffee crack and a delicious breakfast menu. We ran into a couple girls from Middlebury who had gone out on the town the night before and apparently 6 shooters for 30R had them out until 5 AM and still feeling the effects when we ran into them at 11 AM.

From breakfast we met up with the whole CIEE contigency for lunch... which we were not hungry for, oops. But it was nice to meet some more people that were not members of The Orphanage. Not to digress, but during a wine-infused discussion I discovered that my fellow foster friends enjoy having profound religious chats while under the influence... not entirely my scene, so I was excited to meet more people.

After lunch we took a stroll to Main Road and I bought some gorgeous black knee boots for under $50 US. SUCH A STEAL. literally, I couldn't envision a more perfect pair. A first group meeting went off without a hitch, except when our program leader called us out publically for bringing home the shittiest boxed wine in south africa last night. These people have a great sense of humor :)

Dinner was really good in the dining hall and now as I post this blog I am passing a bit of time before my friends and I go out on the town for a short time. Tomorrow's going to be a big day and its going to start early so we can't be out for long, but we're all too excited about discovering our new city to stay in the rooms.

Love from 9C5 Graca Mechal Residence,


A

"I'm a hustler, and I've just been hustled... by a vending machine" -Pumi

OK. so I met a new friend last night as I was leaving the computer lab... his name is Msakha. He is a student that works at the computer lab and is a radio DJ. He was so friendly to me and offered to take me to a bar called "CyBar" to watch the World Cup and drink a beer. I decided that my aloneness was more dangerous than going somewhere with a stranger so I took a gamble on this fellow. He turned out to be one of the nicest people I've ever met-- he showed me a Cape Town welcome, introduced me to some really nice SA girls and bought me a couple beers before making sure I got back to my room safely. The scene in the bar when Spain won the World Cup rivaled New Orleans post-super bowl. People were dancing on tables and shouting along to "Wave Your Flag"-- a song that is super popular here due to the world cup. I'll agree that its terribly catchy and fun to sing when drinking. He offered to take me to the townships today but I instead went with a group of CIEE students to do some exploring. This was partially because I wanted to get to know the other students in my program and partially because I feared being put into a wedding sack when we arrived at the township (joking... sort of).

Today I hung out with the kids in my program. They're hysterical! We hopped in a cab and went to the waterfront to explore and shop a bit. First we hit up a restaurant for our first real meal in days. I won't go into details, but there were nachos involved. Then we wandered around through markets and got a feel for the lay of the land. I want to keep saying how beautiful it is, but I can't really do it justice. We discovered the joys of "photo bombing" in foreign countries. People will run into your pictures and demand you pay them for it. I was like "gee thanks for ruining my picture. I definitely want to give you some rand for that." What a strange phenomenon.

As for tonight, we're all going to take a little napsy then hold our very own ABC party... which for those of you following along at home stands for Anything But Clothes. There will be wine. There will be shenanigans.

I've never felt so instantly certain of my own impending happiness.

Love from the top of Table Mountain,

A

So tired I slept through a fire alarm

I don't know where to begin! A 4 hour nap was enough to make me feel like a person again, but I feel as though my brain is mashed potatoes. I'm sitting in the UCT computer lab which is right across from the room I'm staying in. I guess I should start from the beginning...

Upon arriving to New York I made a few new friends in the airport-- a couple of guys going to Jo-berg to film a documentary about crime and a couple of women taking a guided tour of countries in Southern Africa. They helped the time pass in the airport terminal and were luckily as overtired and silly as I was so naturally the conversation led to hysterical laughter. At 11 we boarded the jumbo jet slated to carry us to the other side of the world and I was seated next to a statuesque woman who looked to be in her mid-30's. I determined a couple things very quickly. 1. this woman was a lawyer from New York and 2. she was not happy about being in coach. We cut the bullshit and mutually agreed to do whatever necessary to secure ourselves vacant rows. It wasn't easy but some cunning angling on this nearly full flight successfully seperated us.

In retrospect, nothing was going to make this flight more enjoyable. Together or alone in a row, no one on this flight was going to sleep between the frequent turbulence, weird smelling asian man, and seats as hard as benches.

But it was a means to an end. With 2 hours to go on the flight, God granted me a reprive and I met one of the founders of Kreuger National Park. He talked to me and another new friend of mine for a couple of hours in the back of the plane about his conservation work in Africa. What an interesting character, he was! Then watching the sunrise over Namibia from the window seat was stunning and arriving in Johannesberg after 2 nights without sleep was enough to bring me to tears.

And the 2 hour layover was a fight to stay alert. I slept through my business class flight to Cape Town... I have never been so exhausted.

Comp. Lab's closing. I will update this tomorrow.

All my love from Cape Town,

A