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
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
your mom and i are going to pahty, pahty on wednesday night... more thursday. love your blog.
ReplyDeletei read somewhere a while back that 99% of study abroad students across the pond (not sure about SA) come back smokers - here's to going cold turkey on their asses!
ReplyDelete