South Africa: Day Two

April 1- MY 21ST BIRTHDAY!!!

This was an early morning and a long, long day in the best possible way. I had to wake up at 4AM to meet my group and leave for the safari. 4AM is early, but SAFARI!!!

We took a bus to the airport for a two-hour flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg. Up until this point I hadn’t been able to find anyone who was on my safari (to the Motswari Private Reserve) and had been a little worried, but it ended up working out perfectly. The group was small, 21 people in all and about 15 students. I hung out with Saahil, Austin and Bri (my safari roommate) most of the time. There was a lot of confusion at the airport, but eventually we caught our flight. We landed in Joburg (that’s what they call it in South Africa) and hopped on a chartered plane to some place that starts with an H. I have the ticket stub, but I can’t remember the name right now. The group of safari-goers in Cape Town was big, and then we dropped one group in Joburg. By the time we got to H… we still had about three safaris worth of people (the Krueger group was HUGE).

We were coasting down the runway after landing and glanced out the window to see TWO CHEETAHS sitting on the side of the runway!!! Welcome to your safari. Eager to see wild animals? Okay, here are a few CHEETAHS! We later found out that they were actually trained cheetahs… Not quite as exciting. There’s an organization that takes in abandon baby cheetahs and raises/trains them to keep impala, springboks and sable off the runway. Still pretty cool.

This was where our groups divided. We had a couple vans waiting for us, as did the Kruger group. The third group, on the other hand, had four big, open landrovers come crashing out of the bush to pick them up. Holy dramatic/awesome entrance. We were all a little jealous.

Our drivers took us about an hour away to the Motswari Reserve. Along the way we spotted cape buffalo (one of the big five) and one giraffe. It was a pretty sweet start. One of the unexpected details we picked up along the way was that the cape buffalo are actually among the most dangerous animals in Africa. They kill tons of people every year, especially hunters because they’re strong, smart, organized and don’t run away from a fight. You have one shot and if you fail to kill the buffalo, you’re in BIG trouble.

The lodgings at the reserve were gorgeous. Each “room” was a separate, circular hut named after an animal. Bri and I were in “sable.” They were big, open rooms with two white beds pushed together in the middle and covered by a mosquito net canopy, which actually looked beautiful. There was no bathroom door in ours, just a curved wall that hid a giant tub (equipped with bath salts), stone shower and toilet. We weren’t allowed to leave our rooms alone at night because animals wander through the camp; the guide said he’d seen everything except hippos and rhinos come through at one time or another. We were also told to keep our windows shut when we went out because baboons would come in and make a mess/steal our stuff.

We’d only been there ten or twenty minutes when they took us on our first game drive. Saahil, Austin and I claimed the back/highest seat in one of the three landrovers. Our driver was Palence and our tracker/the dude who sat on the chair protruding from the front of the rover was Difference. The Motswari Reserve has hundreds of unmarked, twisting dirt roads and our guys knew them like the back of their hands. It was incredible. Palence asked us what we wanted to see and we said elephants, so he chose a road and we were off to find some elephants.

Right off the bat we saw the yellow beak hornbill, or “Zazu” and then several herds of impala. The impala all have a black “M” on their butts, which has prompted the joke that they are the McDonalds of Africa; everyone eats them. We also got to see a few hippos. During the day, they almost never leave the water, but even their heads that are barely poking above the water are HUGE. We saw a baby hippo half climbing on its mom to keep its head up.

Then we found the elephants. To accurately describe these awesome (in both sense of the word) creatures would take more time than I can spend right now, so let’s just say that they were enormous, gray, generally passive creatures whose ears were shaped like Africa. Since this was our first drive, I wasn’t accustomed to how ridiculously close we were getting to these wild animals. It was super exciting at first, but suffice it to say that by the time the teenage bull elephant started charging us, I was ready to get out of there.

Charging elephants!?!? Wait, what? Yes. He was a teenager trying to show us how tough he was. This is not what I thought it looked like; it definitely looked more to me like he was about to kill us. Our guide revved right back at him. This bull was running alongside out landrover, smashing small trees to show his strength and trumpeting at us. Every minute or so he would kinda lunge at us like he was going to charge. I have cool videos of it, but it scared me a little.

We hung out around the elephants for a while and slowly got closer and closer until Big Mamma elephant decided that it was time for us to go. The guide ignored the teenage elephant, but the second momma elephant started slowly walking us back, we gave them some space. She wasn’t as obviously intimidating, but she had a cute little baby elephant on her heels and that made all the difference. If we hadn’t backed away, she could have done some damage. When we gave them enough space, they relaxed and started using their trunks to throw dirt on themselves. We watched for a while and then we left.

After the elephants, we drove to an open area for watch the sun as it set over the gorgeous African landscape. The guides set up a little table and put out a selection of beer, wine, pop and beef jerky for us to munch on as it got dark. The three land rovers were on completely separate adventures (save the leopard and lion experience on day two) so it was just us, nine people in total, out in the bush. It was quite and wonderful. Plus, it was still my 21st. It was getting pretty dark and we were toasting my birthday when all of the sudden, someone was like, “wait, there’s something over there!” Difference flipped on the spotlight and we saw a single hyena skulking across the open space about thirty yards away. It stared at us, eyes glowing in the light and then disappeared into the bush.

The guides packed up the table and we headed back to camp in the dark with Difference in the front sweeping the spotlight back and forth looking for animals. We didn’t see anything big, but out of nowhere we stopped and he focused the light at a small bush. I don’t know how he did it, but at night, that man using only a spotlight, managed to spot a chameleon that was blending into the bushes as we drove pretty quickly down a bumpy dirt path. We couldn’t even see it until he hopped down and pointed it out to us. Haha

We got back to camp and were taken back to our rooms by the guides. My roommate and I stayed up talking for a while, but then crashed pretty hard because it had been a long day and we had an early game drive.

End of South Africa, Day Two AKA THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!

South Africa: Day One

We pulled into Cape Town around 8AM on April 31st. I was up eating breakfast as we came in and watched as we passed Robbens Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 27 years, then the newly constructed 2010 FIFA World Cup stadium and then pulled into the harbor for a great early morning view of Table Mountain, tablecloth and all.

South Africa quickly turned out to be nearly everyone’s favorite port. I think it has something to do with the language and feel of the port. After so many months away from home, crossing through Asian countries where we didn’t understand the currency, menus or directions, Cape Town felt like home. Everyone spoke English and it was clean. My experience in South Africa did not include filthy squat toilets where you had to provide your own toilet paper. It did not include guessing at the menu. In a way, it wasn’t as exotic as some of my other experiences on this voyage, but I think that’s something I needed…a little boost of familiarity and a great port to turn 21.

When we finally got off the ship (there were a bunch of seals and jellyfish in the water!) Helen and I went on Professor Sumner’s FDP to a local Maritime Museum. It was only a few minutes walk from the ship and only lasted an hour or so. After the museum we watched some street performers and I went around trying to exchange my leftover rupees. I had about $10 worth from Mauritius and about $20 from India. South Africa was full of places that exchanged Mauritian rupees because, after all, Mauritius is an African nation. Unfortunately, the great subcontinent of India is technically in Asia. Fail. I still have a bunch of Indian rupees. Maybe I can exchange them in the US… haha.

After the museum, Helen, Fi and I went out to Mitchell’s (a local bar & grill) for lunch. Fish and chips has never tasted so delicious. Plus, we each got a beer to celebrate our arrival. They had quite a selections and they were all pretty good. Lunch was fun and I enjoyed getting to know Fi better. We’ve always had a class together, but I can’t believe that it took me three months to discover how awesome that girl is! I wish we’d started to hang out earlier in the voyage. We had a long, fun lunch and then went back to the ship to meet a few people.

The rest of the day was spent exploring Cape Town with Max, Helen, Emily, Fi and a couple other people. We took a cab to the District 6 Museum. District 6 is famous because before apartheid, it was practically the only community where black people and white people lived together peacefully. It was a thriving community until apartheid came into effect. Our driver told us that he lived on Aspeling Street until one night he came home from work and his home was gone. They bulldozed the entire community because it was deemed that black people weren’t allowed to live in the same area as white people. Even today, District 6 is still gone. I can’t imagine coming home one night to find my house or apartment and all my belongings completely gone. I wouldn’t know what to do…

After the museum we walked down the street to check out the Castle of Good Hope. The Dutch East India Company built the castle in the 1600s. We didn’t get to go inside because it was closed, but we took some cool pictures with Table Mountain in the background.

After the caste, we explored a street market and met a wonderful local woman who was out with her sister, brother and grandson. The brother proudly told us that he had four wives and eighteen children, which was a culture shock; it was the first time I’ve even met a polygamist. The woman was super friendly and the little boy shyly checked out our cameras. It was the Wednesday before Easter and she invited us to her house, which we would have definitely taken her up on if we hadn’t had plans. We talked for about twenty minutes and listened as she told us about how she was hosting Easter at her house. By the time we left, I felt like we’d made a new friend.

After we’d explored a little more, we crammed six people into a taxi and hurried back to the ship because it was the night before my birthday and more than anything, I wanted to celebrate on a pirate ship. The Jolly Roger was the first time I’ve ever been on a booze cruise. There was a decent number of SASers on the ship and we basically took a sunset cruise around the peninsula and drank champagne poured by Pedro the Pirate. The sunset was gorgeous and all around us, seals poked their heads up out of the waves to watch us pass. We got to meet people from all around the world, including Innocence and Richard, two South African cousins who invited us to go to church with them on Easter Sunday. Unfortunately, this plan did not work out, but I really wish we’d been able to go. One of the highlights of the evenings was that the Captain let me wear his pirate coat and even let me steer the ship for a minute. I’m not too good at determining starboard from port, so the steering privileges didn’t last long.

After the pirate ship, we got food and went to a bar on Long Street for a little while, but ultimately ended up at the ship pretty early. I had to pack and leave for a safari at 4AM.


End of day 1

Sorry for the lack of updates. I’ve been swamped with schoolwork.

3 Months at Sea!

Today, we have been at sea for 3 months. In three months I have seen many different cultures and met so many people. I don’t know what has changed about me, at least not yet, but I know things have. I am so inspired and it is because of the people I have met. It is all about the people. Accra was not a pretty place, but the people were wonderful and it is them that are drawing me back. I am barely 21 and I have seen so much. I was given the opportunity of this semester because it will not be wasted on me. It can’t. These past 3 months have helped define my future and what direction it will go in. Thank you all for being such wonderful people and for supporting me in my adventures. I love you all.

Slave Dungeons of Cape Coast

This is not for the innocent who have yet to learn the horrors of reality and a sad part of our country's past.

First we went to Cape Coast Castle. As we walked in there was a coat of arms that said “Freedom and Justice.” This is Ghana’s motto, and it seemed so ironic that it would be on a place that kept people from both. We walked in and the court yard was beautiful: white stone leading up to amazing views of the crashing waves with local fishermen and boys working the surf with their nets. Then, then I saw the cannons. All lined up and pointing out into the beauty. They were black and unforgiving. Piles of cannon balls were all around us. This is when I began to picture the terror that had happened on these white stones. Less than 200 years ago they were not white, but stained with blood and sweat and hate.
After a few minutes of looking around our guide began his tour. First he took us to the male dungeon, which was made for 1,000 slaves but held up to 1,500. We walked down a dark, narrow tunnel into a room that had one small window, maybe 1’x6’’, about 12 feet up the wall. There were 4 rooms, each about the size of half of a volleyball court, that were connected by large arch ways. In one room those who were rumored of planning a revolt or escape were chained to the wall. This is the total space for 1,500 bodies, 1,500 men who had almost no ventilation and had to fight each other for the food that was thrown down on to them by the guards. The ground was cement but there was still a thick layer of a hard, dark substance that our guide told us was a mixture of feces, urine, blood, and sweat. The smell was over powering, even after 175 years. The air was heavy and I felt as if we were in a dark, deep, damp pit of death. We walked to the 4^th room where there was a shrine to those whom had died there in the dungeons, on the sea, and in the Americas.

After this we walked back out of the dungeon and talked about the Europeans. Where did they have their church? Above the dungeon. In the same building there was death, guns, and God. The Dutch and the British held this castle at different times, but the only thing that changed was the name of the castle, not the treatment of the people there or how things were conducted. They traded people as they traded gun powder.

We walked over to the women’s dungeon, which was meant to hold 500 but held up to 800 at times. It was about the size of two of our living rooms at home. There were a couple of small windows, so at least they had a bit more ventilation. There was also a door, known as the Gentlemen’s Door, at one end. This was a tunnel which the governor, merchants, traders, and other Europeans could go through, pick a woman for the night, and take her back to his room. This was actually seen as better than the conditions in the dungeon because the victim was given a bath before she was raped. Imagine, feeling a little lucky to be chosen by a disgusting man. If the women became pregnant in the dungeons, they were taken to other quarters until they gave birth and then it was back to the cell with them. These children stayed at the castle and went to school there. Prisoners were usually held for about 3 months, so if a woman was raped early on she would show before she got on the boat to cross the Atlantic. If a woman was found to be pregnant while at sea, she was thrown overboard to the sharks that followed the slave boats. Imagine this:

You and your wife are stolen one night from your village, walk several days, all the time chained and without food and water, to a dungeon where you are separated. 3 months pass and then the ships come and you see each other for the first time. 2 weeks into the voyage your wife shows that she is pregnant, and she is thrown overboard, alive, along with the food scraps. She was first taken by a man and now by a shark. Days later food is running low so sharks are caught to feed those of you who are still alive in the bottom of the boat. You eat the shark that ate your wife.

This is the story our guide told us. He reminded us that there has been slavery in every society for all of history, but never before was it this inhumane. Outside of the women’s dungeon was the Door of No Return, which led to the sea where small boats would take prisoners, who were lashed together with ropes and chains, and row them out to the waiting ships. Some prisoners would rather die than leave Africa, so they jump, taking their companions with them. Today those waters are full of men and boys fishing and swimming where their ancestors drowned to forgo a worst death at sea or in the Americas.

President Obama and his family visited Ghana last year and walked through that door. Our guide happily reminded us that they did come back, but what if they had been born 200 years before? The man who guided us around all day was a tall, strong, handsome man. How did he walk though this place of Hell and not feel that it was all built to keep him in? On one of the walls by the men’s dungeon is a plaque that reads:

“IN EVERYLASTING MEMORY of the anguish of our ancestors. May those who died rest in peace. May those who return find their roots. May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against humanity. We, the living, vow to uphold this.”

Did we? The Holocaust happened, the Rwandan, Cambodian, Darfur, and so many more genocides happened and are still happening. We the living need to realize that we live in a time of opportunity and ability and we cannot forget what our ancestors did, no matter if it was good or bad.

The next Castle we went to was about a 5 minute drive down the road. It had two moats around it and it was a woman’s dungeon. Again, the church was above the prisoners and also another in the middle of the court yard. When we walked in, we passed a cell with a skull and cross bones above the door. This was where those who had attempted escape or the so called “Freedom Fighters” were put in here and the door shut. They were left in there as long as it took for them to die of suffocation, starvation, or despair. We walked to the dungeons and as soon as we walked in we were hit with the smell of thousands of women’s lost lives, their lost blood, their lost hearts. There was one window for ventilation. Whenever the governor was feeling frisky he would have the guards let the women out into the court yard for the day. He would stand up on the roof and pick his prey for the night. If she refused, she was chained to a cannon ball and made to stand in the court yard, meant to break her spirit and to act as a deterrent for others who were thinking of protecting themselves. We walked up onto the roof and below were local children playing soccer, on the very ground their countrymen and women were killed.

All during the slave times in West Africa, do you know what the region was known as? The White Man’s Grave. So many Europeans died within weeks of arriving on the coast because of tropical diseases and the heat. When someone thought they had malaria, they drank alcohol because that was their medicine. Three bottles later they were dead. So many people died, on both sides of the battle. Where would our world be right now if Europeans had stayed home? I cannot pretend that I understand what happened there and the repercussions that resulted. All I can do is learn what happened and go from there. If we don’t know the past we’ll never be able to gain the future or appreciate the present.

Let me preface this post by saying that I wish we’d had more time in Mauritius. Due to SAS behavior on past voyages, the length of our stay in Port Louis has been shortened from 4 days to 2. Suffice it to say that SASers generally treat Mauritius like Spring Break and have an unflattering reputation on the island. Some people said they experienced SAS backlash and were treated poorly by locals, but I personally had an incredible time and wasn’t met with any hostility.

Also, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday, especially everyone who sent me birthday cards in South Africa! I haven’t gotten any mail all semester and it meant a lot to me to come back to the ship and find such a huge pile of colorful envelopes. They made me feel loved and I love you, too. Thank you!

Mauritius: Day One

We docked in Mauritius on a rainy morning. I was up early enough to watch as pulled into the harbor, which provided a great visual as we sailed in and the small island with its mountainous profile became increasingly visible through the early morning drizzle and fog.

I was signed up for an FDP led by my oceanography professor, Dan Abel, on the first day in port. Our group left immediately after we cleared customs and as we walked down the gangway, we were greeted by local men and women in traditional dress playing drums and dancing. It was a fun way to greet the morning.

One of the first things I learned about Mauritius was that the rush hour traffic is horrendous. The island itself is tiny, but the traffic and the mountains make getting anywhere take longer than you’d expect. Sometime we were simply not moving.

We took a bus to a local Marine Research Facility for a lecture on sustainable fisheries and a quick tour of their labs. The lecture, while informative, was pretty boring.  The tour was more interesting, but once they drove us across the island to Blue Bay the day really got rolling.

From Blue Bay, we hopped in a couple of glass bottom boats that would take of to a private island for lunch and snorkeling. In the boat, we slowly explored the reef below us. Compared the to bleached, starving reefs in Hawaii, Mauritius is exploding with color and vibrant marine life. I was in a boat with Doc Abel, so he was identifying most of the fish we saw, which was cool. I even saw a cuddle fish, which made Emily mad because she’s obsessed with cuddle fish and she missed it.

The island was gorgeous, absolutely tropic paradise. We got off the boats and were greeted with a delicious buffet lunch on the beach. After lunch we went snorkeling in two different shifts. I was in the first shift. They gave us fins, masks and snorkels and took us a bit off shore to swim around. It was beautiful! Steph even found an octopus lurking in a small hole in the reef. He wasn’t too happy to see us, but Emily and I hung out and watched him for a while. Overall, the coral was healthier and the marine life was more diverse than any other reef I’ve seen on this trip.

After our snorkeling adventure, the second shift of people got to go out and I sat on the beach. It was so wonderful to sit and watch people wind boarding and snorkeling and playing volleyball (though that was difficult because of all the coral in the sand). The experience made me reflect on just how incredibly lucky I am.

We eventually made it back to the ship where I showered and walked to the waterfront to grab dinner with friends. We stayed at dinner for ages, just talking and laughing. I got a local beer called Phoenix, which was pretty good. After dinner we went to a casino next to the restaurant; it was shaped like a pirate ship. I spent the Mauritian equivalent of $3 and lost it all, but it was a lot of fun. Yensi, on the other hand, used one token and walked away with about $10 hahaha.


Mauritius: Day Two

Early the second morning, Emily and I hopped in a cab to get across the island to make our scuba diving reservation. Our driver was an old Muslim man who talked to us about the Mauritian people; he was an interesting guy. One of the most incredible things about Mauritius is that when the Dutch landed in the 1500s, there were no native people. They did manage to drive the Dodo birds to extinction, but there was no local human population to decimate. Over the course of hundreds of years, slavery and immigration resulted in the Mauritian population being very diverse in skin tone, religion, customs, etc and THEY ALL LIVE IN PEACE. It’s wonderful. Our driver said, “yes, I am Muslim at home and a Muslim in my heart, but I have Hindu friends and Christian friends. Islam is right for me, but it might not be right for everyone and I respect that.” The two national languages are French (Creole) and English, which made it much easier to communicate.

Anyways, we pulled up to the resort in Flick n Flack where we were supposed to meet the dive master and were immediately in awe of the five star resort we pulled up to. Holy crap, it was amazing! We took a bunch of pictures as we walked through the resort to the beach. Mauritius is a European getaway, for sure, especially the French. It’s complicated and expensive for Americans to get to Mauritius and the Europeans like it that way haha.

Anyways, our dive was incredible! We were in a group with German, French and South African people staying at the resort. We saw two octopi sliding around who, like the last octopus, didn’t seem too happy to see us. I wish I had an underwater camera because I can’t even describe they gorgeous fish and lilac color clumps of coral we saw. It was wonderful and the visibility was spectacular.

After the dive, we hurried back to the ship because I had to leave for an SOS Children’s Village in Beau Basin at 3PM. We rushed to buy postcards and got back to the ship with 15 minutes to spare.

We had a small group going to the Children’s Village, which was nice. We did get gridlocked in traffic due to an overturned semi on the road. We were worried for a while that we wouldn’t be able to get there and back before on ship time, but we eventually made it through.

The kids who live at the Children’s Village are between the ages of 2 and 18, older if they’re going to college and need a home base. They’re not orphans and are not up for adoption. They’re children who have been removed by court order from the care of their parents. Once removed, they are placed in homes with six or seven other kids and one “mother” where they grow up. They attend local public schools and the organization, which exists all over the world, does its best to make sure the kids feel like they’re a part of a normal family.

Midhun and I spent the first thirty or forty minutes slowly gaining the trust of two shy little boys, three-year-old Antz (I don’t know how to spell his name, but it sounded like this) and his four-year-old brother Milos. They didn’t talk much, but eventually the Mr. Potatohead that Midhun brough along lured them over to us. Antz, the livelier of the two, played with my camera while Milos plopped in Midhun’s lap. The kids LOVE playing with cameras and seeing themselves on the screen.

After a while, we took Antz and Milos over to the other kids where suddenly we were mobbed by a group of boys and girls of all ages. Going into this experience, I just wanted to hang out and cuddle some little kids. What I wish I had realized earlier is that it’s not the littlest kids that needed me the most; it was the older girls. The ten, eleven and twelve year old girls wanted nothing more than to hold my hang and play with my camera, learn hand games and do cartwheels. They wanted a hug and a friend and someone to write to. A big sister. Most of the kids only spoke Creole and a tiny bit of English, but the emotions translated. We were supposed to leave by 5 to make it back by on ship time, but the ship was nice enough to let us stay 30 extra minutes because we’d gotten there late. It was tough to say goodbye and my arms ached for days from holding so many kids for so long. Definitely worth it.

I’ll try to catch up with South Africa before we get to Ghana on the 11th, but I can’t promise anything. South Africa is going to take up many, many pages.


Love,

Molly

Day Two in Cape Town!

We got up and headed out on an SAS trip with the organization Operation Hunger to the townships. During the Apartheid regime colored and blacks were forcibly moved from the city of Cape Town and were relocated to unincorporated towns on the outskirts. People also move to these communities from the rural areas in search of work in Cape Town. Families built tin shacks and eventually, years later, the government comes in and builds small concrete houses for these people. These towns do not have electricity, indoor plumbing, any type of social services, or grocery stores or any other place to get essentials. As we drove out of Cape Town we passed miles and miles of these communities lining the highway. Millions of people’s homes.

The first place we went was to a clinic in Site C. This clinic provides care mostly for people with TB or HIV/AIDs. We got there just as they began to hand out lunch, but only a fraction of the people there could eat because there weren’t enough plates. And I was thinking of the piles of plates we all have in our cupboards. We helped hand out the plates that there were, and I just felt so useless and trite. We were the white people giving food to a sick, hungry African so we could go home and feel better about ourselves. The clinic is the only one for about 4,000,000 people, yet only about 300 at the most come for food 5 days a week. I had never met someone with HIV/AIDs before; at least not anyone that I knew had it. And here were close to 100 people with the poison in the blood.

We only stayed there for about 20 minutes and then went to a newer township, Los Angeles. The big joke by the program director was that he was taking us to LA, but in South Africa, not California. We pulled in in our huge bus and walked off to take packaged food to the kitchen for the community. It was a small tin shack slightly raised off the ground, maybe 6x12. There we learned more about the community and the people in it, then it was time to work. Some of us weighed the kids to see if they were malnourished and so Operation Hunger could track them individually, others of us tried to help in the kitchen but found that we were just in the way, and so we just started playing with the kids and talking to people. I ended up talking to these guys for quite a while. They both were 20 and it was just amazing to meet someone my age and see the stark differences in our lives. One of them built his room off of his mother’s shack because he wanted his own space. He had posters on his walls not for aesthetic purposes but to help keep the rain out. My room at home is plastered with pictures and quotes; even my cabin on the ship has decorations.

We also visited the school house where we met the principle who was also the doctor, secretary, and teacher. Three other teachers worked there, and there also was a small garden out the back to grow vegetables to sell for income for the school/preschool/church, which were all housed in the same room.

After playing some soccer and goofing off with the kids a bit more, we headed out to get lunch, which seemed so wrong. We went to a gas station and most of us bought things to take back with us and didn’t eat all of our lunches so we could give the kids some. In the culture it is the girls who eat first and the boys and men eat second. It is also interesting to see how when there is work malnutrition increases because the parents are not home to feed the children.

When we went back we walked off the bus to the swarm of children and one little girl, no more than 3 or 4, came up to me and I hoisted her up on my shoulders. As we walked I stepped over open wires on the ground and those hanging over head. These kids play with all of them around them. After a little walk we came to an open shack with a bunch of kids inside, sitting in rows. Three men were there and said they are professional dancers who came back to the township to work with the kids to give them something else to do besides get caught up in violence, drugs, sex, or gangs, or anything else like that. So the kids did their stretches, then the three guys danced, and then the kids did a dance. All of this was without music and only to the beat of a drum and the voices of the three men. Even when they were dancing they made the beats with their vocal cords. It was amazing and moving and I want to do more. Somehow I will.

After this we went back to the kitchen where all the kids were given a piece of bread, a small cup of soup packed with protein, and a treat from our lunch boxes. This was the only meal they got that day.

When we left after this I was surprised by how I felt. As this semester has progressed I went through so many emotions: First I was so embarrassed by how sheltered and ignorant of the world I was, then angry at our history teachers and our media. Second I became aware of my opportunity and privilege and I felt guilty. But driving out South Africa’s LA that day I felt inspired and hopeful. I am going back to UW and hoping to learn Xhosa, the local language, and start learning about what is needed most in the townships from an academic point of view. Couple that with the people from Operation Hunger and I plan on being back there as soon as possible. I know that I go through whims of passion about doing things, but this is different. This is there and I saw it and met the people who live it every day. Without knowing it I had been searching for South Africa all along. On the bus ride home I talked with my friend Rory about what we were going to do after this semester. We both worry that we will miss something or not take advantage of where we’ve been or what we’ve done or who we’ve meet, but we both realized that we are both here because this will not be wasted on us. This has not been a semester long Spring Break where we have been drunk and stupid. No. We are learning about places we have never been so we can go back and do whatever we can to improve the living standards of people who were not born with an American citizenship to families who support and love them, as we both were. We are so lucky. Thank you so much Mom and Dad and Miah, you are my rock, my family, my blood.

When we got back to the boat my friend David and I met up with a group of guys, three of whom go to UW, and headed to a semi-professional rugby game. The Springboks were playing away while we were there, but one f the UW guys talked to this guy who used to play professional rugby and semi-professional, so he drove us to the game to root on his old team. He name is Gavin and he is part owner of this Extreme Sports company that takes people bungee jumping, sand boarding, shark cage diving, sky diving, and a bunch more. So, if you are ever in the Cape Town area, look him up! On the way we stopped at a pretty popular bar to get a drink. This girl came up and started talking to me and when I told her my name was Helen she thought I was from Holland and got all excited because she was from Norway. She started speaking Dutch to me so my friend Jordan stared speaking Hebrew to her to throw her off….she was a pretty drunk little skunk so she didn’t really notice. Jordan told her he was from Afghanistan and she got even more excited because she had been there before. Oh, fun drunks. J

After this we went to the game and wow, those men! They are huge and play rugby quite differently than I used to. They kick so much and with every hit you can hear bodies colliding. The scrums were amazing to watch: strong flankers, no turning, perfect passes to the back line. It was so amazing! None of the people I was with knew much about the game, and I remembered way more than I thought I would. It was so much fun to be able to say why a whistle was blown or why this team got the ball or what was happening, or why the heck they inbound the ball so funkily. It was a great time.

After this we headed back to the ship and hit the hay. Oh my gosh, I cannot explain the passion I have for South Africa, and I was only there for 5 days. I can’t believe it. I am so ready to get back there and start working. Ah, what life!

Cape Town Day 1!

Whew! Alrighty, so I woke up around 6:00 on the 31^st and ran up to the 7^th deck well before the sun found her way above the horizon. To my left were the dim lights of Cape Town and to my far right was the light house on the Cape of Good Hope, cruising over hundreds of ship wrecks that have been there since before Europeans came to North America. There weren’t too many of us up yet, but after about 20 minutes, when the first rays of fire were coming up behind Table Mountain, the starboard side decks were full of photographers and eager faces. There was no need for coffee to wake anyone up this morning.

We eventually docked around 8:00 or so and instead of having a diplomatic briefing by US officers from the State Department, Amy Biehl’s mother spoke to us for almost an hour. If any of you do not know Amy Biehl’s story, please look it up. She was a white American student working in South Africa on a Fulbright to help end Apartheid and on her way home from giving some of her black friends a ride in August of 1993 she was stabbed to death by an angry mob of black youth. In the international news she had a face and a name while her murderers had neither, only numbers. Amy’s mom said that this is exactly what Amy didn’t want, that she had always said that if something ever happened to her that she wanted to be a number and not a white face, because that is how it was always portrayed for blacks that died. 4 men were convicted of her murder, and in 19997 at the TRC Amy’s parents heard their story and met the men and their families and asked for two of the four to be given amnesty. Now those two are high up in the Amy Biehl Foundation hierarchy. Amy’s mom sees these two men, now with children of their own, as sons; their children as grandchildren. It was amazing to hear her story and how she coped with her daughter’s death. Also look up the book Mother to Mother; it is a book written by one of the young men’s mothers to Amy’s mother. This was my introduction to South Africa: the murders of apartheid and the miraculous organizations and relationships that resulted from them.

I had a short trip to a maritime museum for class, and then after some delicious lunch we rounded up and headed to the District 6 Museum. District 6 was a vibrant community of people of color and blacks that was deemed a White Only area by the Apartheid regime. Everyone was forcibly moved out, the houses and building bulldozed, and all the history of generations of people destroyed. One of our cab drivers said he used to live in District 6 and one day when he came home his house was gone. The museum commemorated the traditions and culture of the people there, as well as had many personal stories and a map of what the neighborhood used to look like. There were also places where people wrote their feelings and memories of what happened, and one quote was, “Apartheid regime is like Nazi-regime without final solution.” We learn so much about the Holocaust and so little about the genocides and racism that are still killing people today. The Jews got Israel, but what do the black South Africans get? District 6 is now acres of empty lots. The whites didn’t use it, they just couldn’t let people of color or blacks use the land. Why did I not learn about this earlier? Where was this in history class?

After leaving the museum we went to the Cast of Good Hope, which was built in the 1650s by the Dutch to fight the British. We couldn’t go inside because it was already closed but we got some pretty fun pictures outside. The whole time we were talking around Table Mountain was above us, covered with the famous Table Cloth, which is when clouds settle on the top and slowly roll off the sides. It was so freaking gorgeous! Eventually we headed back to the ship, but instead of taking 2 cabs we got one, so it was six of us plus the driver jammed into a taxi meant for 4 passengers. It was a fun ride. Our driver was from Zimbabwe and came to Cape Town to work because he couldn’t buy food back home. He’s been dating the same woman for 7 years and is saving up the money and courage to ask her to marry him. I was really happy that we gave him our business.

We got back to the waterfront just before 6:00 and Molly, Emily, and I took off running to catch a sunset pirate boat cruise. There were about 10 or so SAS people on it, some of which I had never met before, and the crew was a blast. We grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrred! for 2 hours together! We also met this sister, brother, and uncle from Malawi that now lived in Cape Town. Chicodi was 20 I think, Innocence (yes, that was his name!) was 21, and their uncle was Richard. And guess when Inno’s birthday was? April 13^th! Craziness. It was so much fun to just talk about whatever with people from around the world. That is what this entire semester is all about; the people. We also met a group of people from Iran and the woman and I talked politics for a while. She said that Iranians love Americans, hate their president, couldn’t stand Bush, and adore Obama. It is just amazing to discover more about my major from people from other countries.

After ‘Land Ho!’ we got some dinner and headed to Long Street, which is the main night life place. Molly, Emily, and I went to this place called The Waiting Room to try and meet up with Brandon Wolding, but we must have missed each other. It was a good night though, as Mollsy turned 21 at midnight! Oh, to turn 21 in a country where the drinking age is 18…. J Eventually we headed back to the ship and ran into some of the crew who were headed out, all snazzed up for the night. What a first day in what I hope to eventually be my home.