It's not "goodbye," it's "see you soon"

Things here are wrapping up slowly, but surely. My last day of work at Sonke Gender Justice Network was yesterday. I almost can't believe it's real. It feels like I just got here, and that I have been here forever at the same time. I'm sure the next few weeks will feel the same - we are about to take off on a whirlwind tour of Southern Africa. Tomorrow, Johanesburg. Saturday, Kruger National Park. Sunday, to Zambia to see Victoria Falls. From there, could be anywhere! Botswana, Nambia, Zimbabwe... So many amazing things, so little time.

So, although I will be back in Cape Town for a day or two before heading back to Canada, I am starting to brace myself for the final farewell. The best way to do this? An epic list of course.. :)

Things I am excited for:
-No smoking in public places. Seriously, I forgot how awful smokey bars and restaurants are.
-My car (aka the Tib) - oh the freedom!!
-No more rain. I feel like everything I own has been damp since the day I arrived.
-My sweaters. I can't wait to be WARM. Who would have thought you could be cold 70% of the time while in Africa?
-My friends and family (I guess.. ;) jk guys, can't wait to see you all!!! Love you, and thank you for your emails and support!)
-Being able to carry my purse without a vice grip.
-No longer needing to maintain constant vigiliance - although, I think it will likely take time for me to accomplish that. I think I have been re-wired.
-A real wardrobe. A washing machine. A couch. A DISHWASHER.
-An epic bubble bath - it's probably for the best that that's not possible here, because in our freezing, damp, drafty apartment, we probably would have had to battle for bathtub access.
-Not noticing race anymore. It's not something I've ever really had to think about in my day to day life (likely the product of being a white person raised in Saskatchewan - why would race be an issue for me?), but here, it's always important and quite blatantly discussed.
-Paying for things with real numbers. I still have to consciously divide things.
-INTERNET. Good old reliable Saskatchewan internet. I don't know that anything is more frustrating than trying to complete three research based projects with the world's slowest internet connection, if I'm lucky enough to get online at all. What did people do before the internet??
-My Chi. I have some hazy memories of days when my hair didn't look terrible all the time.
-Being able to walk around without having 40 year old men hassle me. Even at 8:30AM, when I'm wearing a rain coat, sneakers, no make up, and my hair is basically in a pile, still wet from the shower. Do I look like I want to talk to you? :)
-No more bartering!!! Prices are prices, and that's how it goes.


Things I will miss:
-Butternut squash and avocado EVERYTHING. Mmmm.
-Waking up to the sun rising over the city and the view of Table Mountain in the morning.
-Not knowing where the day will take me.
-Mini-buses - I know I hated them initally (probably based on the car accident on my first attempt) but they are such an experience. Most ridiculous: 22 people in a 16 person van on the way to Hout Bay, complete with a solo traveling little boy asleep on my shoulder.
-Yoga Zone - whether I went for the yoga or just because I wanted to hang out in a 40 degree room, we'll never know. However, one thing I do know is that when the yoga instructor can tell based on your practice whether you are in a good mood or not, you may have spent too much time at the yoga studio....
-Not having to spend hours a day tunneled into casebooks. My neck has almost recovered.
-The slower pace of life.
-The Eastern Food Bazaar. $3 for amazing curry. Can't beat it.
-Cocoa Cha Chi, Crush, Bread, Milk & Honey and all of the cafes with R10 (less than $1.50) lattes - the downfall of my plan to break my coffee addiction this summer.
-South African wine - $5 for a great bottle. Dangerous.
-The feeling of community here. Hugs in the office. Conversations with strangers everywhere. You never have to be alone in Cape Town unless you want to be.
-My colleagues - they have taught me so much! One memorable moment: Sitting at a small bar, watching a soccer game (of course) with a bunch of coworkers, listening to how one of the men in finance came from herding sheep as a boy in a village in Zimbabwe to working at a Cape Town carwash for R30 a day (or about $4) to where he is now.





-Making the circle bigger.
-All of the amazing people I've met - and especially those I have been lucky enough to live with. The Lofties and the Dolls.. :)



-Rooibus tea/lattes.
-The diversity. What do I want to do today? Township braai? Lay on the beach? Go to the wine region? Climb a mountain? Hang out at a tapas bar?



-Living somewhere that the president is affectionately referred to as "JZ"
-Not having to hike up a ridiculously steep hill on the way home everyday. I will have to consciously choose to work on my legs after this. Terrible.
-South African slang.
-All the Congolese/Burundian people I know who hassle me constantly about my inability to speak French. I need them around to make me feel bad so I am more motivated to learn it. :)
-Saturday mornings at the Old Biscuit Mill - where will I get my pesto now??
-The brightness of Bo-Kaap



-Team Intern



I'm sure this list doesn't even begin to cover it, on either end. Suffice to say that going home will be a very bittersweet experience. BUT, no time to worry about that now. Adventure awaits. Cape Town, it's been amazing.

Wine, cheese and chocolate

My last weekend as an official resident of Cape Town has come and gone. Though I felt a bit like dwelling on the tragedy of my impending departure, I decided to spend my Saturday visiting Franschoek - a town in the wine region just outside of the city.

Our tour guide for the day was Arison, a Zimbabwean man who works in my office, and his adorable son Maka. Arison actually used to work at a winery in the region, so he had many stories for us about the vineyards and their owners. I have also been reading a book about recent years in Zimbabwe (it is kind of a memoir, called Last Resort by Douglas Rogers - I highly recommend it!) so I was able to take this opportunity to talk to him about his perspective on Mugabe, Zanu PF, and basically the state of his home. I am definitely going to miss all of the opportunities to talk to and learn from people with such different backgrounds. It's been one of my favourite things about this trip.

Enough about serious things though, and more about wine! The first winery we went to was called Mont Rochelle and was the first vineyard in South Africa owned by a black man. It was incredibly beautiful and peaceful as well. Sunny tables overlooking the mountains and the valley.

This photo explains why Arison and I get along... ;)




The next stop was a wine cellar on the top of a hill - amazing views again of course. The best part - you get to sample 5 wines for approximately $4. Win.

We then visited a chocolate shop, where the employees are sent to Belgium to be trained. Mmmm.

Last, but certainly not least, we visited Fairview for some serious cheese tasting. Laurin and I learned the hard way that after large volumes of wine, the temptation to go back for another round of cheese is too strong to resist. We also learned later, that if you want to stay awake for the ride home and avoid intense stomach pain, the second (and third) round of cheese tasting is a very bad decision.

Africa Time

I just finished reading a book called Khayelitsha by Steven Otter. It is the story of a white South African journalist who moved into the infamous township of Khayelitsha while he was going to school. It was a really interesting book that paints a different picture of township life than I expected. Despite the poverty, it seems there are some appeals to living there. The way he described the sense of community which exists there is truly amazing.

I think the part that struck me most about the book though was his description about how different his life was after moving from Khayelitsha to the Netherlands. He made a comment about how he found it boring in the Netherlands that things run so efficiently. If you take a taxi, it is going to take you where you're going without stopping along the way to pick up more people, fill up for gas, and get food for the driver. If someone says that something is starting at seven, it actually is. This really entertained me, because all of the things he mentioned missing are things that I find very frustrating about living here.

Don't get me wrong, I have definitely adjusted to "Africa Time" while living and working in Cape Town. Maybe a little too much, even (I'll find out for sure when I get home). I had to though, starting from my first day at work. When my manager told me at our meeting the previous day to be there at 8AM to start, I kind of assumed someone else would be at the office to get me started on something. Turns out, no one with any information about what was supposed to be done with me came until after nine. That was the day I started carrying a book around. I have almost gotten used to the idea that "Be here at 8AM sharp so we can leave for the workshop/training/rally etc." actually means that I will be there at 8, no one else will be there until about 9, we may or may not leave before noon, and it is pretty likely we will have to sit in the minibus for about half an hour (once we finally get into one) until it fills up and we can actually leave.

I am greatly looking forward to having some concept of what my schedule actually is when I get home. That being said, I will probably miss the flexibility and the adventure of it all. Let's just hope that I will be able to handle "real life" again upon my return.

Fear of Falling = Conquered

I have crossed one item off of my bucket list this weekend: Bungee jumping.

When did I decide it would be a good idea to hurl myself off of a bridge? I am not quite sure. Maybe when I heard that the highest bungee bridge in the world is just a few hours from Cape Town? Anyway, somehow, it seemed like a good idea to do it. Seemed like less of a good idea when I actually saw the bridge, but by that point, there was no turning back.

To get out to the platform, you have to walk across this wire pathway underneath the bridge that provides you with an all too clear view of the distance you are about to fall. I couldn't stop staring down at the ground below, no matter how hard I tried. Yet, for some reason, it still seemed really surreal. When I got up to the platform, I refused to look over the edge. After they tie you up and attach the cord to your feet, two men lift you out to the edge, with your toes hanging right off. They count down from five, and then you jump. I didn't think, I just did it.

I don't think the fear hit me until I launched myself off of the bridge. It didn't seem real right up until that second. I don't think I have ever let go of my body so completely. I can't even describe the feeling. You fall for about 4-5 seconds, at 120km/h, before you bounce back up. The fall stops your heart. It was all I could do to keep breathing. When I snapped back up, I couldn't really tell that I was moving away from the ground except for the feeling of floating in midair. It was incredibly disorienting, but so peaceful at the same time. I don't think I have ever been so on my own, or in any situation so completely outside of my control (once I jumped, that is).

The most intense part may have been the 75 or so seconds that I was dangling upside down before someone came to pull me back up to the bridge. The bouncing had essentially stopped as far as I could tell, or at least slowed enough that I could see everything below me perfectly clearly. It was so still, and I couldn't help but feel as though every little tug I felt on my legs was going to send me plummeting to my death. Totally irrational, but still. Luckily, I still had some space in my mind to appreciate the beauty around me, although I don't think anything has ever been quite as beautiful as the voice of the man coming to pull me up. I don't think I have ever been so excited to see anyone in my entire life.

I have done a terrible job of describing the experience, but I can safely say it was one of the most amazing things I have ever done in my life. It took awhile for my eyes to stop watering, my hands to stop shaking, and my heart to stop pounding, but it was entirely worth it. I recommend it to absolutely everyone.

This is the Bloukrans Bridge. Ridiculous video footage of the event to come.

Career of the Day: Investigative Journalist.

I am pretty sure that no one at the organization I am working for really planned out what they were going to do with me when I arrived for the summer. As a result, I have been partaking in a lot of random tasks over the past couple of months. Project photographer? Why not. Report editor? You got it. Event planner/consultant? I can totally contribute. Sandwich maker/juice distributor? I'll touch the mystery meat, but only because there are hungry children involved. Angry letter writer? Pretty much my favourite. Today, I have added another job to my resume: Investigative journlist.

My task for the day is basically to wander around the office and talk to people about the xenophobic incidents they have heard of in the past couple of days and compile them into one sad, scary document. I'm not sure if it is supposed to be sad and scary, but it is definitely turning out that way. These are the incidents I have heard so far:

On July 13 in Samora Machel, a Malawian man was brutally attacked in his home. After the attackers held him down and mutilated his genitals, they continued their assault until he was killed.

Two Ghanaian men were walking towards their homes in Khayelitsha on July 13 when they found a group of people gathered outside. They attempted to run away, but were followed by a car. While the men were trying to escape, a man got out of the car and shot both men. One of the men was wounded and the other died instantly.

In Gugulethu, two Malawian men were assaulted in the streets. When they attempted to report the incident to the police in Nyanga, they were turned away by the officers, who insisted that it was necessary to see their passports in order to open a case. The necessary documentation is in their homes, which the men feel they can no longer safely return to. As a result, no action is being taken to find the perpetrators responsible for this attack.

As my journalistic skills are kind of lacking and I'm not much for background checking, epecially with limited internet, I can't comment on the accuracy of these incidents. I like to hope that this is fear-mongering as opposed to fact, but I don't really think that is the case. I am also a little bit bothered by the fact that I have visited each of the townships that the above incidents took place in, and in Samora specifically I was with a group of refugees. Maybe I should have felt more threatened than I did at the time.

The strangest thing about all of this is the fact that it would be completely possible to carry on with your life in Cape Town and not have any idea that this is happening. If you are not a refugee/aslyum seeker and you don't work with human rights or live in a township, this probably won't affect you in the least. I am very curious about the level of awareness in other populations of the city.

I apologize for the stressful/frightening nature of the last couple of messages. I am hoping to get away for the weekend along a path known as the Garden Route which goes along the south coast of South Africa. Hopefully I will get a nice break with some more fun and exciting adventures to report.

Life after the World Cup

Well, the World Cup has ended, but a whole new sort of craziness has come up here in Cape town.

I'm not sure if this has made news anywhere else, but there have been threats about a new wave of xenophobic violence hitting the country immediately following the World Cup surfacing for months. The tournament ended on Sunday, and it seems as though some scary things are already happening.

In my staff meeting yesterday, we discussed the sporadic escalation of these incidents. Allegedly, 2 Somali shopkeepers have already been killed. A Zimbabwean man was apparently thrown off of a train. In Kraaifontein (an area of Cape Town), there is a story going around that the deaths of a local man and refugee man last week were the result of a xenophobic incident. In Philippi on Sunday, two women (one with a small baby) were greeted outside their home by a group of three men threatening to attack them. Their landlord intervened, and prevented the attack by assuring the men that the women would leave the area. The women were forced to leave all of their possessions behind and seek shelter in another part of the city. The police arrived when this was happening, and instead of arresting the men or taking the statements of the women and the other witnesses, they simply drove the women to the train station and suggested they go somewhere safer.

The scariest part about this is that almost all of the people I work with are refugees. The first thing we discussed in our meeting was whether those in our office are feeling safe in their homes. Even the South Africans at my work said they have been threatened for helping refugees. One coworker in our meeting (from Congo) said "To ask if I am safe is a difficult question. Today, I feel safe. But tomorrow? I can never know."

Sonke and some of our partners have started a new campaign to try to make a stand against these attacks. It is called 1 Africa. It seems as though everything else is being put on the backburner to take this forward as quickly as possible. We are having four marches in different parts of Cape Town in the next week and have partnered with several other organizations to raise awareness and hopefully help to prevent that kind of situation that occurred in 2008.

One of the most interesting parts about this is that these threats have been surfacing for months, yet the first meeting I sat in on discussing it with other organizations was about two weeks ago. The entire campaign that we are doing now only came to life yesterday, in a meeting that started at one in the afternoon. I'm amazed at how quickly it is coming together, but at the same time, I have to wonder why it took everyone so long to act. There was so much talk of this happening that I don't understand why planning didn't take place weeks, even months, ago to get this started. This is one of the reasons that I am afraid that NGO work may not be for me. A lot of the time, it just seems incredibly disorganized and ineffecient. Why wait until something happens? MAKE A PLAN, PEOPLE.

Just had to get that out. :)

Here's one of the more interesting emails I have received on the subject today:

Dear all,

As of 12am Tuesday, approximately 15 xenophobia-related attacks in Khayelitsha have been reported to the SJC. These have all occurred since the 11th of July 2010. The majority of these attacks have comprised gangs looting Somalian shops, which has occurred in a variety of locations including Kuyasa, R and L Sections, TR, TQ & QQ Sections, M, BM & V Sections, Makhaza 33 Section and SST Section in Town 2. There have also been reports of threats to and attacks on the property of Zimbabwean and Malawian citizens.

The police were notified in all of the incidents, and seem to have consistently responded quickly. While they seem to have been effective at dispersing the looters, in the incidents we monitored this was generally not followed with the arrest of perpetrators. Late yesterday (Monday), however, we received the report that there had been 4 arrests at Site B police station and 8 at Harare.

Overall, the number of people displaced in Khayelitsha thus far seems to have been relatively small. Between 10pm Sunday night and 2am Monday morning there were 2 to 3 families at Site B police station that had had to leave their homes, and they were taken to stay with friends and family. This seems to have been a common trend, with many foreign nationals preemptively leaving their homes. One Somalian man, Joseph Dumato from V Section, Khayelitsha, said that he his shop had been emptied and that he had lost R30 000’s worth of stock. He was heading for the Somalian community in Bellville, where many Somalian people are said to have gone.

Tonight it was reported that there were apparently 3 foreign nationals at Harare police station that had nowhere else to go, and so are sleeping at the police station. The request was made to South Africa National Civic organisation (SANCO) members in the area to open up a community hall, but permission could not be obtained. An attempt to provide the displaced with shelter will be made first thing Tuesday morning.

To date, and to our knowledge, there have thankfully been no reports of anyone being seriously injured in Khayelitsha. Hopefully this will not change overnight.


Thanks

Tom

SJC

Semi-Final Madness

The rain in Cape Town has left me with some free time today to reminisce about the past month of craziness (READ: free time to figure out my class schedule, but who wants to do that?). The World Cup finals are tomorrow, and though I wasn't especially excited about it in the beginning, I'm actually a little sad to see it end. Although my life will hopefully be free of vuvuzelas from Sunday on, it will also be free of all of the fun things that have come along with the tournament.

For example, this was my Tuesday night. Walking the fan walk with thousands upon thousands of people on their way to Greenpoint Stadium for the final match in Cape Town. Hanging with the team at a bar watching the match. Bonding with South Africans over shared support for the Netherlands (no one likes Uruguay anyway). Just getting caught up in the excitement, basically.







I have a feeling this Tuesday night will not look the same. Although, it is probably for the best. At some point, I need to get around to planning my African vacation upon my departure from Cape Town in three weeks (I can't believe it is SO close!) and sorting out my life for the fall, since apparently I am still in law school somehow.

This summer has only made me want to travel more, and I have been dreaming about possible adventures for next summer. Sadly, my bank account finds this idea laughable, to say the least. Please forward me any and all get rich quick schemes so I can continue to live the life for one more year and avoid joining the real world. India next summer, anyone?

Anyone know how to fix "undersea cables"?

One thing this past week has taught me: Patience.

Somehow, the internet in Cape Town has basically blown up. I am told that it has something to do with undersea cables that run down that coast of Africa that are in desperate need of repair. What that actually translates to is the most questionable and unpredictable internet connection to everyone that does not host locally.

Unfortunately, neither my home or my office falls into the category of places that host locally, thus, things have gotten a lot less convenient lately. Trying to write a research manual on refugee rights is pretty difficult without internet, as you can imagine.

I will never take my internet connection at home for granted again. While I'm at it, I will also never take for granted Starbucks, my car, being able to withdraw money without having to constantly look over your shoulder, having washing facilities on hand and being able to call my best friends whenever I need to talk (Larissa, Alyssa, Jamie, Sheena, you would have been getting a lot of spontaneous phone calls if I could accomplish this!). I'm sure this list will grow.

On another interesting note, someone tried to ATM scam me the other day! I have heard about this scam many times, but I never thought I would experience it myself, as I am always pretty picky about where I take out money. It was actually quite hilarious though, the man basically said word for word what I was warned the people say when they are trying to do this. They claim that your transaction is still open and they are unable to put their card in the machine until you cancel it, which requires putting your card in again. However, before they do this, they put something into the machine that will copy all of your information. Very sneaky. Luckily I had been told about this, so I just laughed (mostly in shock really) and walked away. The most interesting thing about it is that the guy was totally not sketchy looking, and had I not been told about this before, I probably would have believed him. Close call.

To add a little positive spin to all my mini stressors, I got a hot stone massage and a spa facial here in Cape Town for R160. That translates to approximately $25 for over an hour of spa treatments. So amazing. If prices were like this at home, I don't think I would ever do anything else.

One more mini complaint. I can't believe I haven't addressed this yet actually. The fashion in Cape Town = bad news. Seriously. In comparison to pretty much every other international type city I have visited, the shopping here does not even register on the scale. Just trying to find leggings without studs/rips/animal print/bedazzling is a challenge! I have gone to both of the "world class" shopping venues here, and though the centres themselves are very European/North American looking (actually, the design is probably even nicer), finding anything that I actually like enough to buy is nearly impossible. Tragic, really, since I may have done the worst job of packing in history. I thought one pair of jeans and zero nice outfits to go out in was a good idea? I am never packing without supervision again. Luckily, I will have a few days in London on my way home to soothe the fashion withdrawal and suffering I have been through here in Cape Town. ;)

Monday, Monday, Monday...

Mondays are typically the bane of my existence here in Cape Town. Now, I hate to complain (other than about the horn that shall not be named), but three hour staff meetings without a venti Americano from Starbucks (which tragically they don’t have in Cape Town) are typically a bit challenging.

This Monday was a different story. Our meeting consisted of a training session by a man named Victor from the Treatment Action Campaign (TAC), another NGO here in Cape Town. We discussed the LGBTI movement and culture in South Africa. I = intersex. Did you know that? Neither did I. Anyway, the discussion was incredibly interesting. It was one of those times where I realized how unique this opportunity is – I am really gaining a much greater understanding of the people and the culture here, and even beyond South Africa. We discussed things in small groups, and my group members were from Congo, Burundi and Zimbabwe, respectively. Definitely an experience.

We discussed how in many African countries, particularly Zimbabwe, homosexuality is seen as an imported Western concept that doesn’t happen naturally in Africa because African brains are “wired differently.” To that, the man in my group from Zimbabwe brought up the existence of a very old word in his tribal language which refers to a group of gay men. Clearly, not so imported after all – yet many people here still believe that it is.

We also went through the genes vs. socialization debate – something that would not necessarily be out of place in any other discussion of this sort anywhere around the world.

Another new term I learned today was “MSM” which NGOs use to refer to men who have sex with men, who may or may not classify themselves as gay. The term has been both positive and negative. On the positive side, it can go beyond the gay population to reach all men who have sex with other men (such as sex workers, prisoners, migrant workers) for services such as HIV/AIDS awareness training. Alternatively, as was raised during the meeting, it seems to put a lot of emphasis on the sexuality of a relationship as opposed to all of the other aspects.

Something which struck me particularly, and seems to be a recurring theme here in South Africa, was our discussion surrounding the progressive constitution here that so many people, including the LGBTI community, fought so hard to achieve. Despite the fact that this constitution is in place, and greatly resembles what many people hoped that it would, the changes it was expected to provide simply have not occurred. Although homosexuals have a great many rights on paper here, the discrimination is still quite horrific. It is similar to the situation here with refugees and asylum seekers – although South Africa has one of the most progressive immigration policies in the world (which allows refugees to seek employment, access public health care, apply for funding for schooling for their children, among other things), the situation of many refugees in this country can be similarly desperate to the situation in the unstable, war torn countries many of them are forced to flee.

All of this has really emphasized the fact that in a lot of cases, rights on paper unfortunately do not translate to rights in real life.

The Dollhouse

The last couple of days have been an adventure. After speculating about moving out of our apartment (AKA L7) in Observatory and into the city, we met with the housing company to discuss it on Monday. Nothing was decided, as we were unwilling to part with our damage deposit. Over Tuesday and Wednesday, we could not get any real response from the housing people. That is, until a text message on 9:40PM on Wednesday saying we needed to be out of our rooms the following day, with absolutely no other information.

Luckily, I met with a great man last week in Bo'kaap, a neighbourhood in the city centre of Cape Town. He pretty much saved us - happily took my phone call at nearly 10PM and said it would be no problem for us to move in the following day.

Much drama has ensued with the original housing company. I don't think I have ever witnessed such dramatic, unprofessional behaviour in my entire life. BUT, for half of the price per month, we have moved into the heart of the city into a beautiful (albeit tiny.. I mean "cozy") brand new apartment. Desiree, Laurin and myself will be living here for the next month and Laurin has dubbed our apartment "The Dollhouse."

If I ever doubted my decision...

The view from my window. Table Mountain, and the sun rising over Cape Town.





The brightly painted houses and rolling hills of Bo'kaap. During the apartheid, Bo'kaap was a designated "Coloured" area. Though this designation obviously no longer exists, the area largely remains that way today, with the smell of curry wafting through the air in the evening, and Muslim prayers being played over speakers throughout the day.




To get to work, I continue straight down Longmarket Street. Unfortunately, to get home, I have to hike straight back up. At least I will no longer need to worry about working out my legs...



As I carry along Longmarket Street, I pass through the craft market and cafes of Greenmarket Square...



Past St. George's Mall, which brings me dangerously close to my favourite city centre cafe...





And straight to my office, where I am immediately disciplined for planning to do anything other than watch the Brazil game this afternoon.






At 9AM, this has been my day. With an impending road trip to Hermanus this afternoon for a weekend of beach, hiking, and whale watching, life looks great. Even experiencing the most ridiculous of behaviour can do nothing to take away from Cape Town's magic.

PS - Here is the Camps Bay sunset. You know you want to come visit now. :)

I'm getting so predictable...

So I have noticed (thanks Sheenz) that my blogs are getting a little predictable. How much can one person complain about vuvuzelas? (Until July 11 - the end of the World Cup - at least)

But, I've decided to accept and embrace repitition, and today I am going back to my second predictable theme - cute children.

We spent this Saturday afternoon at another great braai (AKA bbq) in the township of Nyanga where we basically hung out on the street and played with the kids. Sunday was one of the first weekend days with perfect weather since I've been here, so I went to the beach with a few of my roommates. It was a perfect example of the contrast that is Cape Town. An afternoon in a township, followed by a day on the beach in Camp's Bay, which is essentially equivalent to a resort vacation.

By the way - taking in a Camp's Bay sunset is something I suggest everyone add to their bucket list. :)


Little girl now - "PICK ME UP PICK ME UP!"
Little girl 5 minutes later - Delivered home fast asleep on my shoulder. Too cute.



Kids love Gerald. This is apparently what being in the Singapore army will do for you. ;)


Mark getting attacked.

Baby + car + beer = interesting picture...

V is for...

3 things that never get old:

1. K'naan - Waving Flag. Even though I hear it every single day here, it never gets less awesome.
2. Shakira - Waka Waka. See above. Except, instead of just maintaining its awesomeness, it actually increases daily. The 3 people using it as a ringtone on my 10 minute train ride this morning will back me up.

And, most importantly..

3. Protesting vuvuzelas. It's four thirty. I have been listening to them outside my office for approximately 2 hours now. As a result, this made me particularly happy... :)

Samora Machel

Samora Machel is a township just outside of Cape Town. I had the chance to go there to participate in a workshop that Sonke was holding with school children (grades 5-7) at Samora Michel Primary School. The minibus driver was quite convinced that we were going to have to use our fighting skills during our visit. Direct quote: “Do you know how to disarm a man? I’m dropping you off at the robot outside because I do NOT drive in Samora Machel.” Was he serious, or trying to scare us? I may never know... However, it turned out to be a really interesting day. This is the first time I have really spent with children here in a “structured” environment, and the kids really impressed me!

These kids were incredibly well behaved – quiet, attentive, and really listened when they were spoken to. They were very enthusiastic and wanted to learn, despite the fact that they are currently on a month long break from school so that they can take in the World Cup. They all are able to speak multiple languages, which is something that I can’t even do even though I was brought up with countless opportunities that most of these kids will never have. I think what impressed me the most was the amount of knowledge that these kids have about their community and the issues within it.

When we brought up the topic of xenophobia, these young kids already knew all about it. Their opinions about it were surprising – they didn’t understand it and seemed to view it as some strange adult thinking. They were quite adamant that we are all human beings, and if children from other African communities were to come to their school, they would be more than happy to welcome them and play with them as they would each other. What’s more, they actually identified the same reasons for xenophobia in the community as some adults we worked with: Locals are often jealous and feel insecure when refugees/asylum seekers have business success in South Africa, which leads to increased xenophobic attacks. I am quite certain that in grade 5, I would have had no idea what the social problems in my community were, not to mention the cause of it.

BUT, on a much lighter note, spending a day with a bunch of kids always guarantees one thing – the world’s most adorable photos.