What a weekend! Saturday, I found myself at a concert in a township called Langa. There was some serious talent there. The first woman to sing sashayed out in a floor length gown that looked as though it'd been constructed out of a blue painter's tarp. Peeking out from under the hem of her dress was lime green tulle and her head was shaved except for a braided strip down the center of her skull, detaching from her at the nape of her neck and descending to the middle of her back in a thick dredlock decorated with beads and string. Her voice was exceptional and her style impossible to mimick.
We stayed at the concert for a few hours hearing different acts in all different styles and watching in awe and amusement as the 50 person crowd stood up and sang along to the xhosa and zulu songs they knew by heart. When the sun began to set, we figured we better get the hell out of Langa. One of the acts began to chat Spencer and I up outside the concert venue and suggested we get on the Langa city bus. He apparently has some connections and talked to the driver for a minute after which the driver waved us in. We hopped in and I became pretty uncomfortable. Two white kids, 50 or so Africans- we also realized the bus was going to Cape Town instead of Rondebosch. I made Spencer get off the bus with me and our new friend arranged for a second mode of transport: a stranger's beat up car to the kumvee depot. I performed the sign of the cross on myself and slid into the backseat of the world's oldest car driven by the world's smelliest and kindest man. He delivered us to the bus depot without a question and we made it back to Rondebosch safe and sound.
Sunday I rose early and got an amazing morning coffee with Spence at the WahWah. We travelled into the city for a day at the aquarium and the craft market- a different kind of exciting from the day before. My favorite part was the "mermaid purses"- cases that sharks lay their eggs in... so cool.
Today I felt very independent as I took the Jammie shuttle to the Hiddingh campus to do research at the National South African Library for a paper I'm writing on contemporary religious and popular reactions to the first heart transplant (which consequently took place right here in South Africa). Oh, how I took online catalogues for granted in the United States. I spent the better chunk of my time scrolling through micro copies of newspapers from 1967 looking for anything to do with the transplant. I encountered moderate success but called it a day after a few hours because I'm simply not mentally strong enough to do work for longer than that at this point... I'd better get my ass in gear for medical school.
6 weeks and counting until I return whence I came. How very strange, indeed.
Love from Langa Bongos,
A
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