Going Out

I was on since before we even stepped into the elevator. Wearing jeans and Bria's tank top, belt necklace and eye liner to the max, hair greased back and pre-rockin' to Beyonce in our hotel suite. Met the boys in the lobby and we are off to Long Street.

Our first bar was dark, crowded, and writhing, the way I like it. Full of Africans. Downed a vodka coke and danced with my group. Rihanna and Britney blaring over the speakers. I think I was having more fun than anyone because they decided to skip out and we walked down the block to the next place.

Our second bar was an Irish pub. Large, roomy, full of smoke, full of white people, full of bad dancers. DJ on the synthesizer with a face mike, karaoke singing all of his songs. Here we have Bon Jovi, Journey, Shaggy, can't remember what else but it wasn't very rhythmic. Seany is all over the bar making friends. He meets an American, Steve from Delaware, and the consensus is quick that Steve is adorable. I talk to him and find out that he's here in Cape Town volunteering for the year. He lives in a shit apartment. The boys trade phone numbers.

Vodka sour shots! We meet some Irish fishermen at the bar.  I talk to the DJ. He learns that we are American and in a choir and now we're his for the rest of the night. He spends a lot of time with us. The music gets better. There is some spontaneous kissing. More dancing. Carmen is loving the DJ. More dancing. Sean now knows every single person in the bar. More dancing. I drink glasses of water.

Third bar! Gay bar! We climb out of our cabs and into a dark, half empty room. Unenthusiastic karaoke is going on amidst the thumpa thumpa. I make friends with a Xhosa dude who immediately picks me up to dance. He sings me the Click Song and offers to come by our hotel to teach us. I karaoke to "Shoop." More vodka sour shots. Philip and I do a lot of mirror dancing. Carmen is not allowed to drink anymore. The gays are all over Sean. There is a lot of sloppiness going on. The Nigerians show up and my Xhosa friend warns us we should leave. Bria has taken a picture of every male in the room.

Carmen and I venture downstairs to use the bathroom but there are things going on in the corner so we duck outside. Wait for everyone to make it into a cab. Stumble out at our five star hotel. Go to sleep for we have a busy day of sightseeing ahead.

shitty goodbye dinner

Oh, this evening sucked. Baladucis restaurant at the mall. I was very tired, everyone was being super cliquey, the food was shitty. Thank you Paul, Carmen, Liz, and Casey for saving me.

(**The upside is that I hung with Liz and Casey for the first time! And tasted malva pudding, finally.)

Table Mountain

I seem to be one of few people who got a lot of sleep last night, although I did hear the vuvuzelas from the stadium across the street as the soccer game let out and the fans streamed the streets in front of our hotel. So I woke up this morning well rested, after getting eight hours – the most on this trip so far. It was a bright and beautifully sunny day! After a back and forth and back and forth and up and down between the lobby and the room and breakfast and Carmen's room and back to my room again, I found out that the cable car WAS in fact running, so I ran upstairs for a fourth time (really I took the elevator) and woke up Sean (who was passed out in last night's clothes) and changed my clothes for the third time and met Ben in the lobby (who had just completed a 5K) and we were off! With some help from Chrighton Dula, a friendly but racist cabbie.

The road actually goes halfway up the mountain until the part where earth gives way to stone. From there, we took a round cable car up to the top. The cable car had 360 degree windows and of course Sean suctioned his camera onto them. The view was stunning – we could see the whole cape bay area.

The top was not actually smooth flat. I had this notion for some reason that the mesa would be smooth like an actual table, like bowling lane smooth. No. It was flatish, but we walked along large rocks whose cracks were filled in with tiny plants. There were a lot of tourists on the top of the table, but it wasn't crowded. The air was perfect and it felt really good to walk around.

From the top, we could see all the places we had been this past week: our hotel, the stadium, the wharf, Cape Flats, Robben Island, the rocky cliff where we took our first jumping picture (and where I taught Dan how to plank), Cape of Good Hope, False Bay, and the white sand beach where we took our final jumping pictures. We could see the green and rocky peaks of Lion's Head and the Twelve Apostles on one side and the Atlantic and Indian Ocean further beyond. The weather was perfect. The sun was shining and we took a lot of panoramic pictures. It was kind of a relief to be without the big group and just make decisions between the three of us. It was really a fantastic morning with good company and a perfect way to end the trip.

SAFARI!!!

I PETTED A LION!! This is the most exciting thing on the safari! Plus we got charged by an elephant! Plus we saw rhinos! And springbok! And ostrich! And zebras! And Elands! And buffalo! And some boring birds!

Here are some things I learned on our safari trip:

• The Cape Buffalo is the most dangerous of the Big 5 animals.

• Rhinos use their second, smaller horn to protect their eyes when fighting.

• Rhino poop does not smell like shit. (It does not smell like anything, actually, because it is made up of dried grass and not much else.)

• An elephant will give a warning before it charges you. If it swipes its trunk across the ground in front of you, it means business.

• Frances James has not lived for 64 years to be trampled by an elephant.

• Our guide, Dennis, is super hot.

• An elephant penis can weigh up to 68 kilos.

• Dennis is as big as an elephant penis.

• A lion's fur is soft like a house cat.

• Zebras are gray when they are born, and develop their stripes as they age.

• Springbok are like gazelles in that they are small and graceful and their hind legs are longer than their front legs, but unlike gazelles, when they run, they actually spring up into the air kind of like a kangaroo. I heart gazelles and now I heart springbok. (When you say “springbok,” you must roll your “r” and pronounce “bok” with a shortened “o” as if you have a South African accent. “Sprrrrrringbuk.”

• Springbok never drink water; they get their moisture from plants and dew.

• Casey and Liz are super great safari partners. We totally rocked the front seat.

• Ostrich have super sharp claws on their feet that can tear your torso apart.

• It is preferable to be stomped on and pecked at by an ostrich than to fight it standing up and risk being clawed open.

• Dennis was attached by an ostrich once on a walking safari and he had to spend seven days in the hospital. He chose to get stomped on but forgot about the power of the beak. He suffered broken ribs.

• Eating springbok gives some people who shall remain nameless serious bathroom problems.

whale watching and southern tip

I decided long before this trip that I was not going to participate in the whale watching activity, on account of it being on a boat. In the ocean. For several hours. Many of us decided that it would be a good day to duck out and go to Table Mountain instead. But when we told Latifa our plan, a look of pure sadness fell across her face as she conveyed how much we would miss out if we stayed home. She was so sad for us and her voice was so utterly filled with devastation that we all changed our minds and decided to at least travel with the group and sit in the bay while the whale boats went out. Anything for Latifa.

I am so glad I went, because I ended up seeing some beautiful things. I walked around the shore with Carmen, Ben, Sue, and Mark. I collected sea glass for Sue and it was there that we spotted our first whale! He was very close to the rocks and was just sort of frolicking around, not really going anywhere fast and not doing tricks, either. There were a few flaps of the tail and then after several minutes, he was gone. Though it was overcast and sprinkly, it was nice being outside. Also we saw some rock hyraxes, which I taught my students about in 4^th grade at TIOH. Related to the elephant, these small, furry things live in Israel, too.

Later, we headed up to Cocos restaurant (no relation) where we could watch the bay and eat at the same time. On the way, we saw our second whale. This one was moving fast and we could only see its back as it passed by the road. At Cocos, I got a delicious cheese melt. Then the boat people came back and we land people felt smug that we saw the same number of whales as them but didn't have to suffer on the rough water. (Several people did get sea sick.) I watched an incredible video of Sami sleeping slumped forward and Tom Reinsel holding onto her life jacket from behind so she wouldn't slip off her seat into the ocean. At the restaurant, we had our best whale sighting – a whale breached (jumped) totally out of the water and slapped back down again, repeated five or six times. He lifted his whole body except the tail out of the water. It was total Planet Earth quality. I'm hoping someone has it on video. (Probs.)

At this point, the buses split up and the lazy ones returned to Cape Town while the more adventurous trekked on to the southernmost tip of Africa, where the Atlantic and the Indian Ocean officially meet. This was my first time on Cyril's bus since the airport. There was palpable excitement on this new bus, being filled with people who chose driving and oceans over drinking and sleeping.

The route to the tip was gorgeous, passing through a landscape we hadn't seen before on our trip. Rolling green hills, pasture land, bright yellow fields of canola, idyllic sea-side villages with white-washed buildings and thatched roofs, meadows and a meandering road. Many remarked that it resembled Ireland. It was green, green, green. The sun was out and everything was fresh and happy.

At Cape Agulhas, brown and gray rocks sliced through the water, earning the nickname “The Place of Needles.” The water was turquoise, clean. Small waves lapped against the shore. The water was 10 degrees warmer than at the Atlantic. The Atlantic and Indian Ocean currents actually meet at the Cape of Good Hope, where we were the other day with the lighthouse and the hills. That's where the temperatures mix and theoretically create water turbulence. At this location, the oceans' names change, simply by virtue of being at the southernmost edge of Africa. Some old mapmaker drew a vertical line from here down to Antarctica and declared the left Atlantic and the right Indian. (If you take into account science and nature, the water here is all Indian Ocean.) We took pictures near the marker in a big group, alone, with an American flag (weird?) and a South African flag.

The beach here was covered in rocks. Big, sharp rocks about 6-8 feet sticking up at the shoreline and smaller pebbles on the beach. All the beach rocks were round and polished so smooth. I spent a good ten minutes trying to come up with a reason to take some home. You know, the ultimate Sophie's choice about taking and keeping (and later not wanting) versus leaving and missing. In the end, I realized the perfectly round pebbles would be perfect for a game of mancala (that I could keep in my classroom), and loaded about 30 rocks into my pockets before I was called back to the bus.

On the way home, we drove through the same lovely hills that were now strewn with flocks of sheep and herds of cows. Paul and I had some heart to hearts about camp and teenagerhood in the back of the bus. I played a game with Sue and Kelly wherein Sue correctly guessed all of the furniture and décor in my apartment. Cyril passed out single serving bottles of South African liqueur Amarula, which is like Baileys but fruity and equally delicious. Kelly, Sue, and I buttered up Cyril and got a second bottle each. Everyone was getting drowsy and there were many rows of people lying down and sleeping. At 4pm, we passed our first stop-light since the morning. The setting sun over Cape Bay was beautiful. We rolled into the hotel 2 hours later than expected, but it was a fantastic afternoon.

Did I mention the balsamic vinegar chips I bought? They were divine.

Aparteid History Day

Today we went to the District 6 Museum and Robben Island. District 6 was formerly a multi-cultural neighborhood in the heart of Cape Town. Blacks and whites lived side by side with Indians and Jews. The government first assigned the Blacks and Coloreds to go live in homelands and townships outside the city, then bulldozed over buildings. Obviously, this was a bad thing. The museum is dedicated to preserving the memories of how the neighborhood used to be, and contains hundreds of photographs from the 1950s and 1960s. Someone preserved all of the old street signs and the back room is full of family recipes embroidered on cloths. The entire floor was a laminated hand-drawn map of the neighborhood, and former residents have filled in their names where they used to live. Everyone took a bazillion pictures.

Then we took a ferry to Robben Island, the location of the prison in which Nelson Mandela was held as a political prisoner. The ocean was quite rough, and apparently there was a lot of sea sickness below deck. I stayed on top where it was blustery and wet and super cold, but the rushing air felt good and we all had a panorama view. Most sadly, a huge flock of birds flew dramatically in front of us right as the boat rocked over a particularly large swell, and when I took out my camera to capture the incredible bird formations, I lost my balance and totally ate it on the deck of the boat. The hand holding the camera smacked down, sticking the lens and effectively rendering it useless. Shame! Fortunately, I have camera insurance at home to get it replaced and can get photos from the other 64 people on this trip. But still totally sucky because I just bought it two weeks ago and spent a lot of time shopping, learning the shortcuts, and really liking it!

On Robben Island, we had a very dramatic tour guide for our bus trip around the island. The whole thing reminded me of Alcatraz and the book Al Capone Does My Shirts, which is about Alcatraz, on account of the extraneous prison community, like the guards' homes, the caretakers' houses, the school for the caretakers' children, etc. Mandela's cell was in fact tiny. A square room painted blue with a single window over a single bedroll. The two tour guides we had were very informative, one being an overdramatic storyteller and the other a former prisoner. Everyone took a bazillion pictures.

I can't really say that I was moved on this tour. I was a little distracted about my camera and knees were hurting and it was drizzling on and off and I was freezing. As the line of choir singers filed in front of his cell to take a picture, I kept thinking how bizarre it was that Mandela's jail cell has been turned into a shrine of sorts. The history foundations could have told us any of the thousands of square cells was the one that Mandela lived in, and we would have believed them. Is that cynical? I'm just not so moved by a room that has no personal markings whatsoever. Glad I went, maybe it will mean more for me later.

The Africa Cafe

Welcome to Africa dinner!

The Africa Cafe was the absolute perfect place to go for our Welcome Dinner. The walls and light fixtures were created out of recycled materials, like glass wine bottles and aluminum can tops. The food was family style and it was out of this world. Their website is http://www.africacafe.co.za. Here is the menu in order of tastiness:

• Vetkoek: fried bread balls made out of rainbows and unicorns. These were like African donuts. Everyone agreed that this was the best dish. I would love to find a recipe online and try to replicate it using my brother's deep fryer.
• Mozanbican Sprout Salad: Though this was a simple salad of greens, sprouts, avocado, beets, and nuts, the dressing on top was crazy good. Will probably never have this again, but I can dream about it.
• Cassava Bread: almost like an asiago cheese bagel but flat.
• Malawi Mbatat Cheese and Sim Sim Balls: sweet potato and cheese balls fried with sesame seeds. These are not as good as the red bean and sesame balls at Whole Foods, but delish. Soft and warm. Gooey inside.
  
• Dhanya Dip: white yogurty dip with lots of stuff in it.
  
• Vegetable soup: flavored with seaweed, apparently. Very tasty. Did not resemble seaweed.
• Carrot Cake: meh.
  
• Xhosa Imfino Patties: like a fried spinach burger.
  
• Umngqusho: that "q" in the food is a click sound, fyi. Mix of samp and beans. Not memorable.
  
• Egypt Koshery: rice, lentil, and noodle salsa dish. Not terribly exciting.
  
• Tanzanian Mango Chicken (did not eat)
• Botswana Seswaa Masala (did not eat)
• Cape Malay Mussel Curry

After all the food, the waiter ladies walked from room to room singing and dancing and playing the drums. I watched their performance in four different rooms. I'm sure someone has this on video somewhere. Super highlight of the trip.