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).