Jou Lekker Ding!

I've noticed I only bother to write in this when I want to complain. That makes for a rather lame blog ('specially since my posts are, shall we say, 'infrequent'?). Shouldn't my natural reaction to such a limitless space of "me me me!" have been vainglorious exaggerations of how friggin cool my life is? Yes, I think so too :) So instead've regaling you'all with my measly horror stories, how 'bout I recount a few funny days that went irresponsibly unrecorded?

The Rugby Match (mid- Aug)

Our backpacks stuffed with a month's overdue laundry, as we walked the few blocks from our "digs" to the main road (called Main Road), Blake and I noticed an inordinate number of people in the streets considering the neighborhood is usually about as lively as a retirement community. We followed and got caught in the steadily increasing (and increasingly rowdy) crowd. Soon their were all sorts of venders along the road, and we bought a couple boerewors (greasy south african hotdogs covered in things reminiscent of, yet definitely not, ketchup and sauerkraut) and continued, still oblivious, towards the giant rugby stadium that had been hiding practically in our backyard. We bought $4 standing tickets and walked right in a few minutes before kick-off, clueless to the rules, teams, division, afrikaner chants, everything. It was great; a wonderfully spontaneous and surprisingly enthralling afternoon of the best kind. My first large sporting event ever actually. We figured out our home team was Western Provence, or WP (pronounced VP cause we speak mangled 18th century Dutch here) although I don't think we ever learned who we were playing. And the painted half-naked drunks surrounding us were chanting: "VP, Jou Lekker Ding", or "Western Provence, you sweet thing!" Afterwards headed to our German friend's (from the Red Cross) house for a little dinner party with his Dutch housemates. They quite enjoyed quizzing us dumb Americans. "Can you point out Iraq on a map?" haha, thank god Blake was there....

My Birthday (late- Sept)

My house took me out an awesome Mexican restaurant, "awesome" here being measured in terms of festive ambiance, not authenticity. I'll admit I felt a twinge of nostalgia for the days of little cupcakes with candles, but when they told the waiter it was my birthday, the sombrero and double shot of tequila I was given were by no means unwelcome. We had strange creamy guacamole, enormous square-shaped burritos, and even larger margaritas to make the travesty (taco bell is more mexican) all ok. Haha, we really made a scene, no two ways about it. Kevin spilled his margarita all over the table and when the waiters came with a towel, he said, "No no, I'll handle this," and proceeded to slurp it up through a straw. To the horror of the bartender, Sophia lit her napkin on fire. Good times.

that's all I have time for at the moment, but more to come... I've had more than just two good days here, I swear! I just really need to start writing some papers (plural) for my African Gender class right now.

love you guys :)

Another Downer

When I came home from school today, I went to make myself a late lunch (steamed spinage and chocolate milk). Only two of my other housemates were home, and they left for class while I was just finishing up in the kitchen and on my way upstairs to my room. We think the robbers somehow came in as they were leaving. While I was upstairs in the shower, two or more men broke into our house and went into the two downstairs bedrooms that were unlocked. They got four laptops, four cameras (two DSLRs), a ton of rand, and a hair straightener. I can't believe how lucky I am that they didn't come upstairs/I didn't go downstairs. I keep thinking, what if? what if? The police said how lucky I am, that many people who were in identical situations did not fare so well. It really shook me up. I miss home.

Existential Crisis #9

As much as it pains me to admit it, my "Perfectly Wondrous and Utterly Amazing Life in Africa" is experiencing a small melancholic hiccup. I'm actually quite low. Midterms are here, and I have a perfectly dreadful amount of work to do (especially since the half-the-page-minimum-experimental-feminist essays I write in Santa Cruz won't fly here). Just so we're clear, I'm of the mind that there'll Always be that figurative midterm coming up, and I won't live my life waiting till I can enjoy it. But the problem is, it's not just normal stress that's got me down. For the first time in my existence, I'm on my own. There's nothing grounding me here.

"It is so easy to become lost and depressed when you have nothing to grab onto that relates to your whole life: your family, friends, places you know, things you usually do. It can really destroy your sense of who you are without all those things. What is left, who am I, really, without all those external things that I associate with myself?" - my Dad*

*I love my Dad

Table Mountain Hike

Energized at the foot of the mountain.

The trail grows more rigorous.

Hunger and exhaustion set in.

Finally at the top, met by this immense plateau...

and there was a surprise lake up there,

with RED water!

But the view was the best part...

Top of Lion's Head

August Recap

How 'bout I start this thing for realzies? Essays, assignments and tests are really starting to pile up, which means that for the next few weeks I'm stuck sitting inside on my computer procrastinating... so I finally have the time and motive to blog. Let's see, where should I start? Well, at the moment, one of my housemates is using the mega-speakers we set up last night for our mini rager to blast Swan Lake. Which is awesome. When the music crescendoes, the bellyaching hungover (dispersed haphazardly throughout the house) unite in a grumbling cacophony of protests, and the house shakes.

The house itself (I should probably back up, huh?) is eight bedrooms and a large backyard glen of Montecito-esque glory. We're technically across the street from campus. (Although all this means is the guinea fowl-ridden park in front of our house is owned by UCT, not that I don't have to hike up a sweaty mountain every morning to Upper Campus) I live with 10 or 11 other people, all of which are extremely lovely. A few blocks down the street is the Main Road (exotic, right?) where I buy my staples: ice cream, croissants, green tea and oatmeal.

I'm taking four classes: Romance to Realism, Postmodernism, African Gender Studies and Beginning Afrikaans. The two literature classes are set up very different than what I'm accustomed to at Santa Cruz. The sections/seminars/tutorials are taught by professors who switch off giving the main lectures. The seminars are all taught on different subjects that branch out from the main topic of the lectures and you can choose which you want. I signed up for "The Victorian Fancy" and "The Empire Writes Back: Reconfiguring the English Canon", but there were also seminars on history, creative writing, poetry, and non-fiction to choose from.

All in all, my reading list for the semester is as follows:

Lolita

Invisible Man

Wide Sargasso Sea

Midnight's Children

Foe (by the national hero, Coetzee, pronounced cote-cee-ah, thank you Afrikaans 101)

A Bend in the River

Robinson Crusoe

Frankenstein

Jane Eyre

The Scarlet Letter

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Through the Looking-Glass

A Christmas Carol

Dracula

The Time Machine

I really love the people here. It's an interesting blend of personal circumstances that causes someone to end up studying abroad in this program, and, while this does not mean we're all similar people, for the most part our manifold differences are overcome by our shared adventurous desires. Between a few favorite friends, a nebulous group of sober acquaintances and drunken buddies, and most of all my suffocatingly wondrous mob of housemates, I'm quite content here. Spring break is in two weeks, and while I can't afford one of the very safe, very expensive, all-inclusive package trips most people are going on, I'm thinking of doing a cheaper, sketchier version of the same thing. A few guy friends and I want to get to Victoria Falls, and we found a trip that cost a fourth of the price everyone else is paying. The only drawback, and really I consider this a pro, is that transportation and travel visas are not included. Which means we may or may not be bribing border patrol and sneaking into Namibia... um, yeah.

I really wish I had started blogging and journaling earlier, I've had some really fantastic experiences and stories this past month. There were hikes, a few road trips, a rugby match, parties, bars, wineries, interactions with the locals, and lots of other stuff, none of which I can say I navigated gracefully or without causing some unnecessary minor fiasco. My plan is to try to relay as many of these as I can remember, along with some new ones, in the very near future. Miss you all :)

Simon's Town

in the long interim since my last post, I hope my public hasn't given up on me! but I'll be posting on this regularly, promise.

bloody hell

when I first left my dad and settled in at my gate (after only a minor airport security fiasco), my first thought was to make a blog post. because I considered it a particularly momentous occasion in the narrative of my evolving independence and entitled to reflection? no. I just needed to justify all the man-hours that went into creating this by actually writing in it. however, all attempts were a fail:

6:22 PM la airport

I'm kinda freaking out right now.

6:23 PM la airport

I'm really freaking out right now.

but now I'm in london and europe hasn't made me any more eloquent or perceptive. although I do think my nerves have worn off a bit:

16:38 (whatever that means) heathrow airport:

I'm in ENGLAND! blimey :D

17:10 heathrow airport

I stink.