Mountains Beyond Mountains

Just a heads up for all the friends and fam reading my blog, I’m planning the general format to be just a random stream-of-consciousness type thing – really without much organization. Anyways, I’ll jump right in with some “wicked” (my Australian roommate Seb uses this, pretty much in responses to my awesome stories) new adventures in Cape Town. We had a tour of campus, and the Univ. of Cape Town (UCT) is EASIESTLY the most beautiful and unique campus I have ever seen. There is a distinctly African/European architecture and the buildings are really old, but still have give off a feeling of freshness. Plant life and greenery cover everything, weaving through all of the buildings, making the place feel like you are always in a tropical rainforest.

All sorts of trees, flowers, bushes, vines, and other plants unique to Africa are everywhere around the city. Definitely one of the cleanest and freshest feeling big cities I have ever been to with Cape Town at a population of 3.5 million. There is a Haitian proverb, beyond mountains there are mountains, meaning that after overcoming a big obstacle there are still many more to tackle. Nelson Mandela echoed this saying, “After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.” Being in the SA landscape these phrases carry a little more weight, in two regards: First, there seems to be an endless expanse of the most beautiful mountains that look exactly like Table Mountain everywhere. Each one is without trees and it looks like you could just make your own trail and sleep under the stars for the night if you wanted. Secondly, you are definitely a part of an area deeply affected by the system of apartheid and these obstacles are many, like the mountains surrounding you. The fresh ocean and plant air astounds me everyday, and disappointing to realize that no Yankee Candle will ever be able to emulate the same environment. I guess I should apologize to all of you reading in Buffalo and Syracuse for going on about how great the weather and surroundings, but if it’s any consolation I can’t carve any fresh pow here (snowboarding).

Changing subjects, how bout another crazy story from a night out at the bar! We’re at the bar, still in the meeting-a-lot-of-people phase, and there is a local guy who looks like a bum and tries to get people to move over to the dance floor and get the place hoppin’ (he has been wearing a life is good shirt every night I’ve stopped in, hence the bum label). Not thinking about it, I wear my life is good shirt and he is hammered but puts his arm around me and now we’re buds cuz we rock the same brand. Later, I’m taking a leak in a one-toilet bathroom, when all of a sudden that same guy busts through and accidently starts pissing on my shirt. Noting his mistake he stops pissing on me and decides to share the toilet – there’s nothing quite like getting a golden shower and crossing streams with a drunk semi-bum townie. I don’t know if a more ironic situation has ever existed – on my side, my life is good shirt is drenched in urine; on his, he is an alcoholic bum who wears a life is good shirt and hat. Thank god for alcohol because we had a real bonding moment after and got a solid laugh…somehow in that strange mess life is (still) good.

Meeting people has been extremely easy, I have met a ton of incredible peeps already, and it helps to come loaded with some jokes (#cheaplaughs for those twitter users). Finally found an African who knows about the Syracuse Orange, Carmelo Anthony, and the Dome, which turns out is rather rare here. South Africans are truly a very welcoming people and are as fascinated about Americans as we are about them. While downtown midday, a woman around 30 years old walked with us and we had a pretty lengthy conversation about where we were from, my studies, her work, and the native Xhosa language (I plan to take the Xhosa course at UCT and yes it has clicks. Also, it’s the native tribe/language of Nelson Mandela). I met another man (57 yr. old) on the metrorail ride to one of Cape Town’s many beaches and repeatedly welcomed me to SA with such exuberance and personal affection. It wasn’t much of a conversation, because he loved to talk – probably because he has been all around the world – but went on and on about these omniscient and universal observations of our world. His name was Brian and it felt like talking to the old wise man of some ancient rural village. He did have quite the sense of humor saying things like he was allergic to marriage and wanted to travel to the South Pacific for the beautiful women. And of course, I’m meeting loads of other internationals from Wisconsin, California, Germany, Norway, Amsterdam, Denmark, Australia, and much more. My roommates are the shit, but I’ll write about them next update. Remember wherever you are that life is always good and keep on keepin’ on (I kinda feel like Rev Run dishing out his words of wisdom from his bathtub at the end “Run’s House” episodes).

First few days, feel like a freshman again

I guess I’ll start my journal by introducing with a cliché greeting here in South Africa, Howzit?, which is pretty much equivalent to Wasssssup or how’s it going? Never traveling to a foreign country before, I had some of the wildest fantasies and misconceptions about people from different countries. In Cape Town, I imagined a city dominated by the white presence, with a somewhat small black middle class, but the majority of black people in the township areas – the enduring scars of apartheid. Also, I had imagined a bit more rigidity, mistrust, and general unfriendliness across racial lines, which only seemed normal given the enduring racism in America since the civil rights era. However, Cape Town is surprisingly cosmopolitan and it is difficult to sense any racism beyond witnessing the economic disparities. The country is 80% black, 10% coloured (mixed race), and 10% white, so the vast majority of people I have contact with are black.

Enough boring talk about the observations of a humanities major, but I just wanted to provide a general feel of what it’s like to be here (especially for those who think this is “Lion King” Africa or its polar opposite mini Britain). Speaking of humanities majors, apparently it is fairly common for these types to walk around town and to class barefoot, even in the grocery stores. I arrive the first day and an orientation leader takes me and another kid on a tour of my town, Rondebosch. We stop in a student travel agency, where 2 South Africans and an American work, so naturally we ask each other home towns, blah, blah, and it turns out she’s from Skaneateles, NY – just the first indication of how small the world is and how much people around the world know about the U.S. (whereas Americans no very little about places like Cape Town).

So I get familiar with town and a little of campus, and later the first night all the orientation leaders (OLs) take groups out on the town to a few local bars. You get some names like Khaya, Lienda, Rudo, Sakwasa, and Thembi but also Tim, Janet, Jamie. We’re all ordering beers and there’s music playing kind of loud and the bartender tells me there’s a special so naturally I’m like sure. I thought it was for the bigger size, 750ml (25oz), but she hands me two of those beasts, and immediately I’m like – damn first night out and I’m the stereotypical American doing Edward 40 hands like Asher Roth or something. fml. But I gave one to an OL, he bought the next round, so I made a friend in the process – actually a Zimbabwean. Everything seems pretty normal, like hitting up the Steer down in Buffalo, with a nice surprise with this French dude busting a move on the dance floor, until the night hits an unexpected turn…

I’m outside of the next bar we go to, talking with a few Mozambicans (they want me to join their soccer team), an Egyptian, and a girl from British Columbia when all of a sudden a police officer is hosing down a local black guy and no one really knows what’s going on. And that’s when it hits you, wow this is Africa. Immediately I get this vision of Birmingham 1963 with state police fire-hosing black protesters in one of the most famous events of the civil rights era. Apparently, the guy was too drunk and the police was either sobering him up or trying to get him leave. Talking with the OLs after it ended, they said they had never seen it before so I didn’t know what to think. The guy getting sprayed was just kinda taking it and eventually started moving over to confront this massive bouncer just asking “Why do you keep spraying me?”. When he gets close enough the bouncer gives him a right hook to the chin, knocking five feet back to the ground, and it broke up from there. I guess that’s just Univ. of Cape Town’s equivalent of “getting’ Steerious”…

To conclude my initial impression I just wanted to note how amazingly similar CT and the U.S. are, but at the same time how strikingly different. It’s got the college town with the close, convenient bars but also the downtown street, Long Street, with tons of clubs and bars. People drink pretty much the same, go out the same, and are listening to “Party Rock is in the house tonight”, Lil Wayne, and even a special treat R. Kelly’s “The World’s Greatest”. They watch American shows (even It’s Always Sunny), movies, music, etc. At the same time, you see barbed wire and bars on windows, advertisements on poles that read “Abortion – call now, Dr. J. Hope 444-5555”, and shantytowns very close to areas that house celebrities like Elton John and David Beckham. Just a very surreal layout of society and culture. Also, I kind of feel like the clueless Asian on U.S. campuses – extremely hard to get used to even small things like crossing the road and buying groceries. Cape Town is amazingly beautiful and pictures can’t justify the colossal mountains, valleys, and ocean-side cliffs all around you. There is plant life everywhere, the air is extremely fresh, and it feels like a comfortable 80 degrees everyday with a nice breeze usually. Anyways that’s enough first impressions for now…I’ll just keep on jibboo’n Africa and write again soon.