Missing Cape Town but Happy to be Home

Since returning from Cape Town, it seems like a lot has happened.  Anna took her senior pictures!  My family spent a couple days poolside at French Lick Casino and we successfully moved some furniture into the townhouse that I will call home for the next year in Lexington.  For the first few days after returning home, I felt like I was living in a dream.  I felt like one morning I would wake up and be back in South Africa.  Like maybe I would go back to working for BEEP, eating at Obz Café and shopping at Kwik Spar.  This may or may not have been due to crazy illness I was battling.  The illness was later named “the Swahili” (explanation to come later).  Yah, it was intense enough to get a name. 

The trip home was not exactly fun.  First and foremost, I had a fever the entire flight from Cape Town to London.  If it was not for a blessed man named Charlie, I don’t know if I would have survived.  Charlie was a British teacher/rugby coach.  His accent cheered me up.  We had a nice conversation.  He asked me why I was playing with my food during dinner.  I was stuck in the middle row.  He obviously noticed I was sick, but informed me that (say this in a British accent in your head please) I could “wake him at any time to get up”.  Once I reached London my flight to Chicago was cancelled.  They moved me onto a flight to Washington, D.C.  That flight was supposed to leave around 11 AM.  It was delayed until 4 PM.  So I sat in the airport from 6 AM until 3 PM. 

Now, imagine me sprinting through Duelles to make my connection flight to Louisville (because my previous flight had been delayed).  Keep in mind that I have the Swahili.  And that this is a huge airport.  I almost kicked a man for trying to fit a BABY STROLLER through one of those tiny x-ray machine thingies.  I was not a happy camper at this point.  But alas, I made the connection flight.  And got more sleep on the flight from D.C. to Louisville than on either the Cape Town or London flight.

When the pilot announced that we were descending, about 50 million emotions flood over me.  I know it probably sounds really cheesy, but I saw the Watterson Expressway from the plane and just wanted to cry.  The Watterson Expressway is not even that great of a highway people.  I guess that is what happens to you when you live halfway around the world for a couple months and experience a lot of new things. 

I basically powerwalked through the airport and saw my family waiting for me.  I’m not going to lie: I cried.  I successfully made spectating strangers cry too! What was most shocking were my 20 other family members standing off to the side.  I swear I did not even see them!  My mom had to turn me around.  At this point it was really hard for me to express emotion, but I have never been so excited to see a group of people in my life.  If my game night cousins are reading, I hope they know how much I love them and appreciate their support.  These are the people that skyped me when I was halfway around the world for over 2 hours.  Technically, they aren’t all my cousins, but they might as well be. 

Jennifer then went on to name my sickness “the Swahili”.  Someone then asked, “Isn’t that a language?”  She said that it was also an African illness.  They all chanted and cheered me to baggage claim with their creative signs.  Neither of my bags made it to Louisville, but I didn’t even care.  I had finally made it and I had my 25 closest friends and family members with me.

Now that I have been home for a while, I have to admit that I still miss Cape Town…a lot.  Everyone keeps asking me, “What did you miss most about home?”  Obviously I missed my family.  But besides that, I can never give them a very good answer.  Country music?  Driving down Highway 42?  My dog?  (Seriously, these are the only legitimate responses I have.)  I am much better at answering the question, “What do you miss about Cape Town?”

 As I reflect back on my time in South Africa, I am truly amazed by how many things I did.  I think it is definitely best represented by pictures.

First and foremost, I hiked some really beautiful mountains.  I knew I was going to do this as a part of my work with BEEP.  I had no idea how breathtaking Cape Town was going to be.  I did some google image searching before I went, but you really cannot put into words what this city looks like.  Even at night at the top of Signal Hill it is amazing. 

           

I met some really amazing kids while working for BEEP.  This internship really was a perfect fit for me.  I never had to sit inside an office.  We were constantly on the move.  A normal work day might involve meeting with donors in the morning, checking up on the food gardens and then attending a workshop with the kids.  I find myself thinking about the BEEP kids alot.  They brought so much joy into my life in such a short amount of time.  I wish I could have somhow done more for them, but I don’t know what that would have been.  Most days, I felt like they were doing more for me than I was doing for them.  BEEP is giving them the individual attention that they don’t receive at school (the class sizes are close to 40 or 50) or at home (parents often don’t come home until 7 or 8 o’clock).  I know that they are in good hands, but leaving them was one of the saddest things I have had to do.  Just look at these sweet faces!  

           

I did see some African wildlife!  I even stroked a cheetah named Joseph.

   

I went to the beach.  Even though it was winter there.  Before I went on the trip people kept telling me to bring sunscreen…because I was going to Africa.  Trust me, I didn’t need sunscreen.  I actually wish I had brought a warmer coat. 

       

I made some amazing friends.  I don’t know how I would have made it through the trip without my 12 Ivy Road roommates.  It is really shocking how quickly you get to know people when you are living halfway across the world together and trying to understand a new culture.  Also, killing rodents together really bonds people. 

        

And while I miss Cape Town everyday, I think I learned that I am eager to see the rest of the world.  It is such a big place full of beautiful things.  I was put in a lot of uncomfortable, different situations during this trip and I think I handled them pretty well.  South Africa was my first test.  And in my own mind, I passed! 

Even though I was feeling a lot like death on that 12 hour flight from Cape Town to London, I couldn’t help but smile when I was talking to Charlie.  Here I was, coughing my Swahili germs all over this poor man and he was still being so polite and nice to me.  When I went to the bathroom once I decided to walk around the plane because I didn’t want to go back to my seat right away.  I was probably gone for a solid 10 minutes.  When I finally returned Charlie asked with a concerned look on his face, “Are you alright Caitlin?”  It just makes you think, the human race is generally good.  That is why I want to learn every language I can and travel as much as possible.  So I can meet more of it: the human race that is.

Nwabisa: My Favorite Nickname

I have been given many different nicknames throughout my twenty years of life.  When I meet people at school I introduce myself as Caitlin.  My close friends and family like to call me Cait or Caitie.  And every volleyball team I have ever been a part of has always referred to me as Hagan.  When my little sister, Anna, and I were on the high school team at the same time they tried to refer to me as Big Hagan (and to her as Little Hagan).  As you can imagine, I put a stop to that real quick; I refuse to have any nickname that begins with “Big”.  In the confusing and entertaining world of twitter I am Cait the great (@itscaitthegreat).  However, while in Cape Town I also received a nickname.  An IsiXhosa name that was difficult to pronounce (at first) but that I have come to love: Nwabisa.

For those English speakers it sounds like this: No-Wah-Bee-Suh.  Forgive me, but I do not know how to write out those complex dictionary pronunciations.  My BEEP co-worker, Khanyiswa decided that Allison and I needed IsiXhosa names if we were going to be working in the townships every day.  Allison’s name is Spokazi.  However, K did not give us our names until she got to know us.  I think we received our names after about three weeks of working for BEEP.

After receiving my IsiXhosa name, I began introducing myself as Nwabisa while I was in the township.  When I went to the workshops, I told the kids that was my name.  A few of them would giggle because they were smart enough to know that there was no way that was my real name.  However, I have convinced about 80% of the kids that my mother named me Nwabisa.  I even began using this name when I was speaking to principals, teachers, strangers, and with friends of Lindela and Khanyiswa.  I even told some of the men and women downtown in Green Market Square, a place where you buy small handmade crafts and souvenirs, my Xhosa name and I think they were more willing to barter with me.

Something about being given a Xhosa name made me feel that much more a part of life in the township.  I love driving around in Lindela’s BMW blasting Zahara (an extremely popular South African artist) and making up the words (since they are all in Xhosa).  I love walking the kids from school to the taxi rank and holding hands in a big, long line.  I love eating Nando’s with Lindela and K at least twice a week in the Guguletu Mall.  I love hiking up Table Mountain and playing hide and go seek at the top.  I am even used to being called “umlungu” (white person) and now enjoy saying “molo umxhosa” back (hello, black person).  This generally surprises bystanders, except I still have not mastered the art of clicking.

I have learned so much while working in the township and for BEEP, despite the fact that I have had my fair share of “American moments”.  For example, I was running an after school workshop at Mzamomhle Primary School and I was asking the students how they waste water.  One boy raised his hand and said that it was customary to throw a bucket of water on other kids when it was their birthday.  I asked him other ways they could celebrate a birthday besides throwing water.  He said he couldn’t think of anything, so I suggested baking a cake.  But I didn’t stop to think that a cake is extremely expensive.  Cakes are a rarity that some kids don’t even get on their birthdays!  I felt so stupid and embarrassed after saying this.

The kids didn’t seem to notice or judge me for my cake comment.  They always include me in their games and even pull me aside to talk.  It makes me happy knowing that BEEP will guide them through primary school and high school.  Unlike the American middle schoolers that I mentored while I was in high school, they embrace learning and living.  Many of these students live in shacks or poorly built homes.  But they are more than willing to work in the gardens each day after school.  They want to hike up Table Mountain on the weekends.  These children are passionate about the environment despite the fact that they are dealing serious issues at home.  I feel like I am constantly smiling when I am around them.

Whenever I think of my time in Cape Town, I know my mind will always drift back to the day that we were planting beet root and flowers in the Intshinga Primary School food garden.  It had been storming the past couple days but the clouds had broken and the sun was shining that afternoon.  I was planting pansies with a few of the girls in the far corner of the garden and the boys were digging on the opposite side with Khanyiswa.  The girls were helping me practice my IsiXhosa clicks (because I am so bad at them) when one of them, who has the same name as Allison (Spokazi) asked, “Nwabisa, do you know what your name means?”  I thought K had told me once but I didn’t remember.  Then all the girls had a quick argument about the proper English translation and then responded, “It means someone that makes other people happy.”  I know that I instantly laughed because if you know me, you must know that I am a people pleaser to the core.  But then I told them, “That is silly because you all make me happy.”  I think they thought that was pretty stupid but it is so true.

It is not that I was completely sad or unhappy before I left home.  Sure, I was dealing with a few issues just like the next person.  It is just that I have found something in Cape Town that I love.  I love the people I have met, the friends I have made, the kids and the city.  This trip has taught me that I need to see the rest of the world!  But most of all, I think it has taught me that I love being Nwabisa.  Will I still be this girl when I go back home?  I can’t deny that I feel different, more alive here.  But I can still carry her with me.  Because once you earn a new nickname, you get to keep it forever.  So add Nwabisa to the list.  And add Cape Town and the people in it to the list of things that have made me totally and completely happy.

It Don’t Matter If You’re Black Or White

My mornings probably start out quite similar to yours: I jump out of bed, get ready, and eat a massive bowl of cereal.  Where our mornings might differ?  The 25 minute car ride to Guguletu, the township where I work.  Our driver, Walden, an older, white South African, has kept us entertained each morning with his stories and unwarranted opinions.  The first morning I jumped into his van it smelled as if the man had smoked an entire pack of cigarettes only moments before he had come to pick us up (impressive!).  He actually had no idea where he was going and we got lost several times (despite the fact that our advisor, Jim, had e-mailed him some Google Maps).  Initially, Walden did not want to drive us to the BEEP offices because protests had occurred near there the day before.  Lindela, my boss, had to come pick us up from a nearby gas station.

I did not do a ton of research on South Africa’s current political climate before I came on my trip; however, I did have a basic understanding of apartheid and the struggle.  Whenever I thought of South Africa my mind immediately went to “rainbow nation”.  South Africa stands out in a continent where dictatorships and militants often reign supreme.

But nothing is perfect.  I knew that racism would still exist, but to what extent I was not sure.  My experiences and discussions in the car with Walden have led me to believe that South Africa has actually taken some steps backwards since Jacob Zuma took office.

For example, the roommates and I recently went on a tour of district 6 and learned of the apartheid government’s forced relocation policies.  District six is located very close to downtown.  Essentially, the apartheid government moved all black and coloured people from district six, flattened their homes and business and moved them out to the townships (far from the city center).  The government never actually rebuilt anything in its place and there are still parts of the district that are empty.  Now, the black and coloured people believe that they permanently belong in townships.  Even when they earn enough money to move to nicer parts of Cape Town, they don’t.  On a recent township tour, a black doctor’s home was constructed right next to a large grouping of shacks.  Segregation is simply a part of life.

Walden constantly makes comments that reaffirm these beliefs.  He was mugged twice in the last year, both times in his car.  The last time his Mini Cooper was stolen.  Interestingly, he was not a driver before the muggings, but chose to become one afterwards (why?).  Walden becomes noticeable nervous when we enter the townships.  If we have to sit at a stoplight for too long he gets agitated.  If people on the streets walk up to the car window and try to sell fruit he yells at them to back away.  And don’t get him started on the government.  Since 1994, everything has gone to hell.  And he is not the only one that thinks this way.  I am sure there are a lot of old white South Africans that mutter about the glory days.

I debated putting this in the blog because it really disgusts me.  Lindela and Khanyiswa are big huggers.  Seriously, we hug every morning when we get to work and then again when we leave.  And I love it!  One afternoon when Walden was picking us up he made a particularly nasty comment.  Syd and Eric were already in the car.  We were hugging goodbye and he said, “Those black people just love getting to hug on those white girls.”  Syd reprimanded him.  What Walden doesn’t know is that I consider myself fortunate just to be here and call these people my friends.

I know that racism like this probably exists everywhere in some form or another.  I know that it is still a part of life in the US and it is certainly alive and well in South Africa.  I do not think that the problem will truly be solved until people are convinced that they can create a comfortable life for their families outside of the townships.  As for Walden?  Once he said, “There is no black in the rainbow.”  Well, I don’t remember there being any white either, dammit!  I believe I learned it was red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet!  ROY G BIV!  His mindset will never change, but I do have hope for the rest of South Africa.  I think before we leave I will buy some bananas out of the car window just to rattle him…everyone should live outside their comfort zone a little.

And now to cheer all of my readers up I have included the following video (RIP Michael):

12 Ivy: My Home Away From Home

12 Ivy Road, my home for the past 6 or so weeks, is situated right next to the train station in Observatory, one of the up and coming neighborhoods in Cape Town.  A few years ago, Observatory, or Obz, was still a dangerous place.  Today it is a trendy place to live and popular meeting spot for college kids (it is very close to the University of Cape Town).  I love where we live because there is a lot going on and we can walk to a ton of different restaurants for dinner.  As you can probably guess, we have not done a lot of cooking while we have been here.  We have a few favorite eateries that include Hello Sailor, Gypsy Café and Obz Café.  Additionally, we can easily hop on the train and access other scenic parts of Cape Town (Simon’s Town, Muizenburg Beach, etc.).

Initially, adjusting to life at 12 Ivy was a little difficult.  For example, when I arrived here the very first night I was surprised to find that you had to pass through two different gates and a massive front door before getting inside.  Everyone in Cape Town has a gate (or two) and maybe some barbed wire.  We still joke that if you lose your key, you can be locked inside the house (unless you find a way to scale the spiked gate).  Also, the keys are not just normal house keys; they are skeleton keys!  Imagine being a janitor here and carrying around a belt of these things!

Also, everything here is prepaid.  I bought a small cell phone when I arrived and put minutes (or “airtime”) on it.  When you run out of minutes, you run up to the grocery store and go to the check-out line and buy more airtime from the cashier.  That is how everyone’s phone works here!  Even if you have a blackberry or an Iphone!  No one has a data plan of any kind, it is all prepaid.  We learned the hard way that electricity works the same way.  Jim, our program director, told two of the girls the first night to check to the meter (inside our house) every so often and to let him know when it got down to 70 or so.  Randomly one night we noticed it was on 9. 9 people!  That means we had 9 units of electricity (don’t ask me what the units stand for) left.  We figured out that we use about 25 to 30 units a day.  This may seem like a lot to an average South African but then you must remember that there are 8 people in one house.  Somehow Jim’s wife set us up with some more units and we made it through to the next morning.  Then, we went to the grocery store and bought some more.  Seriously, who buys their electricity at the grocery store?

Ultimately, we decided that “prepay” is probably a rational system in a country where things are unstable and unsure.  People don’t know if they will be able to pay a bill from month to month, so going up to the grocery store when funds are available seems logical.

Currently, 12 Ivy Road has been giving us some trouble.  And by trouble I mean RODENTS.  I am not afraid of spiders, or snakes or clowns.  Seriously, send a clown over to 12 Ivy and I will welcome him and his creepy painted face with open arms.

It all started one night when Syd and Hannah were awoken from their sleep by a scratching and squeaking in their wardrobe.  Of course, they were freaked out and we deduced that WE HAD MICE.  The next morning, Hannah and Syd found a hole in the wall leading outside.  Our landlords sealed the hole and we set out some sticky traps.  Syd was very freaked out and has since indefinitely moved into Lindsey’s bed.  Hannah has bravely remained in the room (she is a vegetarian and friend of the animals).  But she says she sometimes thinks she hears them moving around at night.

Yesterday when we returned from a lovely morning of shopping and eating at the Old Biscuit Mill, Syd was setting her things down on her bed.  Suddenly, she saw the mouse dart from one side of the room to the other.  The boys were, most unfortunately, not home.  The girls were left to fend for themselves.  Syd and I were standing on chairs outside of the room with brooms in hand.  Lindsey was armed with traps.  Hannah was depressed by the thought of killing mice and removed herself from the situation.  Allison was designated mouse destroyer.  But, we couldn’t find the damn thing.  He escaped!  We did find his dead cousin lying on a trap (gag).  I had to go out for some fresh air while Allison bravely disposed of him.

Needless to say, we are traumatized.  Syd, Lindsey and Allison bought some rodent poison at the store and laid it out last night.  This morning, a lot of it was missing (dun, dun, dunnnn).  Allison also thinks it is funny to randomly scream, “MOUSE!”  For fearless world travelers, we really do act like scared girls when faced with rodents.

Besides this predicament, I have loved living here.  You cannot beat the mountain views from right outside our door! (Photo courtesy of Trevor.)

And I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to have lived with this summer; we are all so different, but somehow seem to mesh very well.  More than anything, living at 12 Ivy Road has taught me that there are a lot of things that I can really live without.  I don’t need a dishwasher.  We haven’t watched television once since arriving here.  Heating isn’t necessarily required in this environment (just learn to like hot tea!).  And I can definitely live without mice.

Lessons Learned On Top Table Mountain

In our ventures out on the town and in discussions with Capetonians, several people have mentioned that they have never actually ventured up Table Mountain, Lion’s Head or Devil’s Peak.  The mountains are just a part of the city, something beautiful that has somehow blended into the background of life.  I don’t know that this applies to the majority of Cape Town’s population, and I am not saying that this is necessarily a bad thing.  You don’t have to hike to the top of a mountain to enjoy its beauty.

But when Lindela founded BEEP, his greatest desire was to bring kids from the townships to the mountain.  Statistics suggest that somewhere between 80-90% of these children have never been to Table Mountain (despite the fact that they have first class views of one of the seven natural wonders of the world from their homes).  This is easy to understand; taking the trip up the mountain requires time, money, resources and transportation among other things.  On Thursday and Friday I took my first trip up the mountain with BEEP.  I already recounted to you my own adventurous five hour hike with Lindsey and Uncle Jay on Table Mountain.  This overnight adventure with BEEP was quite different.

First, Allison and I took the trip with Lindela and the BEEP Seniors.  These are the kids that have been a part of BEEP for about 4 to 5 years now and range in age from 16-19.  BEEP lost contact with these kids for about two years while they were developing after school workshops and food gardens.  Lindela and Khanyiswa wanted to reconnect with the older students and see how their lives were going.  Unfortunately, K wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t come on the hike with us.

Initially, I was intimidated because these students had taken this trip up the mountain several times.  One boy said he had spent the night in the cabin 20 times!  I thought he deserved some sort of medal.  The hike to the top was not nearly as challenging as the first hike up Lion’s Head or my first Table Mountain hike.  It was one of the most scenic hikes I have taken though.  I credit Lindela here; he seems to know all the mountain’s secrets and best vistas.  Not to mention, it was a gorgeous day.  The kids seem to know how to keep a steady pace.  I have a bad tendency to rush up too quickly and always get out of breath, but they know how to step firmly and slowly.  Khanyiswa always says, “Respect the mountain.”

I don’t even know if I should be calling the BEEP Seniors kids.  There is one student in our group who is about to graduate high school (or as it is called here, matric).  On the way up the mountain, they asked us a few questions about ourselves and where we came from.  Some of them told us about themselves; overall, they appear to be very ambitious and have career goals.  But for the most part, the BEEP Seniors talked amongst themselves, joked and laughed a lot.  When we got to the top, I thought they would talk to us at meal time, but they really didn’t.  Allison and I sat there in silence a lot of the time while they joked in IsiXhosa.  At first I was frustrated.  I asked myself, “Why don’t they want to talk to me?”  But then I realized that this is their vacation, a time to get away from home and be with their friends.  I am just some random, dorky 20 year old.

Once I accepted this fact and relaxed a little, I had more fun.  I just enjoyed the fact that they were enjoying themselves.  Allison and I made a pretty intense meal of chicken stew, mashed potatoes, and peas.  After dinner, everyone sat around the fireplace (it was freezing in the cabin) and the BEEP seniors sang for me and Allison.  They were pretty shy at first, but Lindela coaxed the music out of them.  He said, “God gave you a talent, and if you don’t use it he will be upset.  Right now, you are on top of Table Mountain and you are even closer to God.  He will know if you aren’t you using your talents that he gave you.  So you must sing for us.”  Oddly enough, they all sang opera.  And it was beautiful and they had the most perfect voices.

Despite the fact that we are fully grown college students, Allison and I slept together in a bed the width of a picnic table just to keep warm.  It was close to 35 degrees Fahrenheit outside when we woke up in the morning and the cabin did not have any heat overnight (so you can guess how cold it was inside).

The hike down was uneventful except that the table cloth had settled overtop the mountain the night before.  The table cloth is what happens (seen here) when it rains or just gets cloudy on the mountain.

   

It made it really hard to see very far in front of you!  Once we got further down, visibility improved.  Lindela took us on a different route down (which I liked).  There were a lot of waterfalls and different flora to look at.

     

Our trail ended in Kirstenbosch Gardens and we saw some funny looking birds that we couldn’t resist chasing.  Of course, some nice middle aged man was trying to take pictures of the birds and then we ran at them and he grunted.  But I guess that is what happens when you mix older people and teenagers in peaceful gardens.

What did my first weekend with BEEP on Table Mountain teach me?

1.  Prepare for the cold.  Pack more socks!

2.  It isn’t always about entertaining me.

3.  I like opera.  (Actually I already knew that, I love Phantom of the Opera.)

4.  I will continue to chase birds.

5.  If they are able, Capetonians and all visitors should climb Table Mountain; something that big and beautiful should never just blend into the background.  Once you get to the top, you really do feel like a part of something bigger than yourself.

Kentucky or Khayelitsha?

I don’t exactly live in a neighborhood; it is more of a random cul-de-sac.  I only have three neighbors and my family doesn’t really interact with any of them.  Occasionally we wave when they are outdoors gardening.  Others don’t even acknowledge our presence.  Sometimes my dad spies on them.  I live in a beautiful house and have a wonderful family, but said neighborhood is seriously lacking a sense of community.

Conversely, in the townships of South Africa, there is a strong, great sense of community.  During a township tour that our class took last week, we learned about the areas of Langa, Guguletu, and Khayelitsha.  These are not small areas either; Khayelitsha alone stretches for hundreds of miles (or kilometers if you are South African) and is home to close to 3 million inhabitants (according to our tour guide, Mike).

For those unfamiliar with South African lingo (as I was prior to my trip), a township is an informal settlement.  During apartheid many black and coloured peoples were moved from their homes in the city centers and relocated to more inconvenient locations (to make room for white settlements).  I actually work in Guguletu and Philippi (two different townships located right next to one another).  Each township has a distinct vibe, history, culture, trend, population, etc.  For example, Lindela told me and Allison that people in Guguletu are known as being “trend setters” while those in Philippi are more down to earth (if this is true, I have no idea).

As we were driving our large 15 passenger van through the different townships, I couldn’t help but notice all the neighbors interacting.  Most of the kids are out on winter break (weird to think about for all you Americans back home, huh?) so they are running around playing games in the road.  They play with simple toys; zinc cans stacked atop one another, tires, and deflated balls.  Everyone seems to wash their laundry together or on the same day; it is almost like a community event.  All the women gather around a large bucket of water, scrub and chat.  After the laundry is done, everyone hangs the clothes out to dry and leaves them there unattended.  For all the supposed (and real) crime, everyone seems to trust that their clothes will not be stolen.

After most BEEP workshops, we have to walk the kids through the township to the nearest busy street so that they can catch a taxi home (if they don’t live in walking distance from school).  I love these short walks because I get a street view of the townships.  The kids waive to their neighbors, stop and talk to others learners and introduce us to their friends.  One time, Allison got proposed to in the street and a man offered her 8 cows (impressive!).  When cars drive down the tiny roads, they honk at the dogs and the children, everyone screams, the driver waves and all activity resumes.  I feel very alive when I walk down these streets.  It is rare that anyone is ever cooped up inside their homes because there really isn’t any television to watch, internet to surf or Xbox to play.  Additionally, you can’t really call some of these homes a home; mothers and fathers have probably done the best they could for their children.  But most of the time, shacks are really just zinc, sheets of metal or wood nailed together.

My house is made of brick, with a big black front door and a nice black-board fence all the way around the property.  There is a pond off the in distance and horse farms are close by.  Of course, I have great family and friends, but I have never had great neighbors near this house.  I don’t even know their names.  Most of the kids I work with live in a shack.  They know what has happened to their neighbor’s cousin.  They know how their other neighbor’s dog died and what their best friend’s plans are for the evening.  They know what time to go outside to play a game.  They know who to turn to when they are upset and who the best cook is on the block.  The majority of white South Africans would tell me to stay away from the “crime ridden townships”.  But most of the time, I find myself wanting to be a part of a community like this.  I wish I could have the best of both worlds.

Week Three Update!

I know that I have been somewhat silent this past week, but things have been a little hectic here at 12 Ivy Road.  Here is an update of what I have been doing in the past week.

1.  Table Mountain Hike

Last Saturday five of us decided to conquer Table Mountain.  We were unsure of which route to take to the top.  We got a lot of conflicting advice but were told not to take a challenging/long route because we were beginners and were not familiar with the area and terrain.  We did not want to be rescued by helicopters or stranded.  We were unsure if we would hike up and back down or simply ride the cable car down the mountainside.

Jay, our beloved weekend trip driver, decided to tag along too.  We got advice about which trail to take before beginning.  Some park ranger man told us to take the pipe trail up to the top and advised us that it would take around 2 hours.  LIES!  Long story short, it ended up being one of the hardest trails on the mountain and this guy had no idea what he was talking about.  It took us close to 5 hours and at the end of the hike Jay yelled, “I don’t know who I am anymore!”  Also, Lindsey said, “Is this what the Von Trapp family felt like when they were escaping into Switzerland?”  Basically, we were delusional.  At one point, we met an experienced hiker that told us we were almost to the end and we were relieved.  But then we got scared because he very casually said, “Oh yes, you just head into the Valley of Isolation and then you are almost done mates!”  What? The Valley of Isolation?  When we entered said valley, I think Lindsey screamed, “I AM SO LONELY!”  And it actually echoed.

Not surprisingly, we chose to take the cable car down.  And it took less than 2 minutes which was anti-climatic.  And we were all really angry at all the tourists who were fascinated by the scenery and didn’t actually hike.  But of course, it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.  I will be going back up Table Mountain with BEEP this week.  Here are some photos for your enjoyment.

2.  BEEP

The work week went by so quickly.  As I might have mentioned before, BEEP works with six schools within the townships.  We put on after school workshops Monday through Thursday.  In the mornings we generally check on the food gardens, run errands or purchase food for the kids.  The foods gardens are very important to the schools.  The school lunches really are insufficient for growing children.  It basically looks like mush but is called stamp and beans (and they eat this same meal everyday).  The students sometimes have apples and oranges to eat and a bunch of them are always running around with the South African version of cheetos.  BEEP is providing the schools with a source of vegetables.  But the coolest part of the project is that the students are responsible for maintaining, weeding, watering and caring for the garden.  They are so proud of the work they are doing and an example for other students in the school.

This week, students got in a fight about why some plots were growing faster than others.  They are divided into groups and in charge of different sections of the garden.  One section was growing faster than the other.  Group one argued that group two was using a witch doctor to make their plants grow faster.  Group two said that group one yelled and argued in front of their plants and didn’t show them enough love.

I am starting to form real relationships with some of the students.  At first they were very shy and timid.  A lot of them are scared to use their English.  And most unfortunately, my knowledge of isiXhosa is limited.  However, some of us are now very good friends.  They love to play with my hair and I like to ask them questions.  They also like to teach me isiXhosa.  I now know the words for hello, how are you, I am fine, water, run, and bye.

I am in a minor depression because they are now on winter break for three weeks and I won’t see them for a while.  But hopefully BEEP will take some trips up Table Mountain and I can see their cute faces!

3.  21^st Birthdays!

This week we had two twenty-first birthdays in our household.  Syd and Lindsey turned 21 on the 21^st and the 24^th, respectively.  We have had a lot of fun letting everyone in Cape Town know it was their birthday.  Here, the drinking age is 18, so it isn’t quite the same.  When you turn 21 in Cape Town, you receive “the key to the city”.  I am not sure what that means but I don’t think that they would have given it to us anyway.

4. Wine Tours

Saturday we called Jay up and asked him to take us to a few of Cape Town’s excellent wineries.  I was actually unaware of the fact that South Africa was famous for its wine country (but then again my wine knowledge is about as good as my isiXhosa).  There are hundreds of wineries within only a few miles of Cape Town’s city center.  I liked the two we went to because they were both very different.

The first was called Groot Constantia Winery and is the oldest winery in Cape Town (and South Africa, I think).  It was established over 360 years ago by a Dutchman and has changed hands over the centuries.  Now it is publicly owned and has a board of directors that are actually paid in wine.  The estate was huge and had a lot of history.  As I understand it, legend says that when Napoleon Bonaparte used to order his wine from this winery.  And when he was exiled to an island in the Caribbean, he desperately sought different ways to transport wine from Constantia but to no avail.

The tour was very formal (similar to a bourbon tour in Kentucky) and we saw all the machinery involved.  The second tasting was just down the road at a winery known as Constantia Glen.  There was really no “tour”; we simply sat down, ate some cheese and bread and drank some wine.  It was very relaxing and scenery was beautiful.  This was more to my liking.

But what happens when you do a wine tasting and then you take a nice drive home?  This.