Train ride from Cape Town to Johannesburg

Our flight back to the United States was out of Johannesburg. We had several options to get to Joburg. The bus: 18 hours of sitting and very little sleep, flying: expensive and we had too much luggage, renting a car: too expensive, or the train: 26 hours with little beds. So we took the train.

There are three options of taking the train. The uber luxurious Blue Train or Rovos Rail, the Premier Classe train that is luxurious but not uber luxurious, or the Shosholoza meyl. The standard train. We took the standard train. In this train there are compartments for either 4 people, or 2 people which they call a coupe. I looked up what coupe meant, and it means something like half. Which is what these tiny boxes are. They would be quite spacious if on had no luggage. But considering Jared and I had so much luggage we couldn't carry it all ourselves, it was a bit cramped.

It was somewhat dramatic getting all situated on the train. Our last morning in CT before the train at 12:30 we had two clients come over, one who wanted to have coffee with us, and another for a last crash session before we left the country. Fortunately we had all our stuff packed, which was the result of days, and I mean days, of sorting, mailing stuff to the states and weighing our bags (the airlines are VERY strict about the weight of luggage).

The taxi was 30 minutes late, the driver wouldn't help us load the luggage into the taxi, when we got to the station, we couldn't find a cart to put our luggage on to take to the train...after waiting and panicking we finally got one. We got to the train, found our coupe, and it was all wet inside! Cape Town's weather was giving us a rainy farewell which dripped and seeped into the coupe. So we got another one.

We were so relieved when everything was put away and the train was leaving CT, that we celebrated by drinking cider.

Come night time, an attendant came with bedding and asked which end I wanted my head at. He recommended towards the middle of the train, because of the train tipped to the other side I'd fall on my head. If the train tipped to the other side, he said the passageway on the other side of the coupe would help my head from being crushed. The bedding was a nice mix of blankets, pillows and sheets. I slept well though Jared was cold.

It was a pleasant ride, we slept, read, and ate. It was so nice to be able to walk around the train and stretch my legs which I couldn't have done on the bus.

The second day I was wondering how long I could enjoy the ride before I started feeling cramped. Soon after that I started feeling cramped. I think the tower of luggage in front of me had something to do with that.

We got to Jozi only 40 minutes late which apparently is a record as we heard the train is often hours late. Humm... sounds like Amtrak on the states.

I would definitely take the train again, and do so with less luggage. Maybe next time we'll have enough money for some luxury.

Less than two Weeks Left....

Less than two weeks from now I'll be in a plane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean headed back to the States. My year in South Africa has nearly come to a close. It has both gone fast, and yet arriving in Johannesburg, South Africa a year ago seems like another lifetime.

I feel mixed about leaving. I like it here a lot and I will miss it. Just in the last few months has it felt that I really live here. I love being near the ocean, seeing it from my window, I love being so close to a gorgeous mountain like Table Mountain. I love that its nearly summer now and its warm, the sun is shining, the flowers are in bloom, and birds are singing at 5am. I love the people we have met.

This year has been a lot of learning for both Jared and I. We have learned a lot about ourselves, each other and about how people work. I have learned that sometimes its best to just leave a bad situation (like the one we arrived into here) and other times to just accept, stay grounded in myself and have my own boundaries. To let people do what they do even if I don't think its useful or even if its self-destructive. They have their own path and they have to decide for themselves. I have learned to be as unattached as I can from wanting a certain outcome. To love people, provide what help and support I can, to not blame myself when they still do the same self-destructive patterns, and to be there for them when they come back.

This has been one of the biggest lessons and challenges of working with street youth and former street youth. I can't save them. I knew I couldn't. But I think part of me tried and still keeps trying. They are beautiful people with incredible talent, some with great passion but they still have to choose for themselves to make a different life. I can't make that choice for them.

There was one youth in particular I feel sad about. Perhaps its because he is the same age as me, and also that he suffers from depression, something I had for many many years. He is an amazing artist, such beautiful talent. He grew up on the streets, his mom lived on the streets. He's been in and out of prison, once for murder. He has gang tattoos on his body and has trouble sleeping at night because of what he experienced in prison. Lately he has been tormented by so many of his friends and family (including his mom) that still sleep on the streets. He had a temporary job lined up for him, someone willing to give him a second chance after he screwed up last time. A job that may have been a foot into something longer term. But he didn't bother showing up for it. Then he started sleeping on the streets again as some kind of test for himself. Then he stole from the project...

He has so much potential, but he has to make the choice. He has to make the choice over and over again. He has to make the choice to stay focused on what he wants in his life. To choose to get the support he needs, to surround himself with people who care and who will guide him. But he isn't making that choice at the moment, instead his is choosing to fall back on old behaviors and patterns. At any time though he can make a different choice and have a different life. But I recently heard that he has told everyone to fuck off that he wants to die on the streets....


It's taken Jared and I awhile to get ourselves established here, to feel like we really live here with friends. Now that we have that, its hard to leave it. Our plan is to apply for funding to come back next year and continue our work with street youth. To also work with other organizations and other at-risk youth, and to try working with younger kids before they make those critical decisions to use drugs, commit crime.

I've been trying to focus on the positive things about going back to Oregon since that is where I am headed. Of course seeing my family and friends and our spiritual teacher. Also food related stuff: soy lattes, gluten free flours and baked goods, kombucha, tempeh...And the forest...

I am going to miss South Africa and Cape Town a lot, and I hope to be coming back soon.

Picky Landlords

The landlords Jared and I had in Portland, Oregon screwed us out of most of our deposit after we left last year. We spend HOURS cleaning that bloody flat, and it was really clean, but the greedy landlords came up with all sorts of stuff to charge us for so that we got back some measly $20 or so. Sounds like my grandma's husband who told me when he rented places he would never give back the deposits, just come up with stuff to charge his tenets for so he could keep the money.

Here in Cape Town we were renting from a German couple who hired a guy to take care of their flat when they aren't here. So he did the choosing of who to rent it out to and was the go-to guy. We have been really pleased with him as the psuedo landlord.

The German couple came back a month ago so Jared and I moved to another flat for our last 6 weeks just up the road. We in fact look out at our old front door from our current window.

The Germans were quite friendly when they came back and we gave them their keys etc. They even waved the next day when they were leaving their place. But then the waving stopped and I figured something was wrong but wasn't sure what it was.

We got a call from the go-to guy and he came over yesterday. Turns out the Germans are upset about a few things in their flat. The blanket on the sofa was ruined they said, a drawer was missing a handle, there was some burn marks on the floor, a piece of the coffee table veneer was chipped off, the awning was damaged, and here is my favorite: the cushions on the sofa were flat. She asked him what we did with the stuffing. I was tempted to tell him that we sold it since we had heard there was a good black market for cushion stuffing. He agreed that they were being really picky and said it was because they are German (he used to live there).

I agree the blanket was pretty tattered as it was poorly made, and we'd be happy to pay for a new one. All the drawer handles were present and accounted for when we left, never used the awnings but the sun is pretty intense here and damages things quickly that then get blown to bits in the extremely strong winds that blow most the summer. The cushions, well, guess we sat on our assess too much on the couch.

I don't think they have rented their place out long-term before as all this stuff is normal wear and tear. Maybe they won't again! They spend 3 months a year in South Africa and I don't think they need the money from the rental, so they should just leave it sit if they are going to be so picky.

Goodness, I hope our next landlords are better! Need to own those picky places in myself now...

Car Accident

Coming home from a weekend away this Monday we were in a car accident. We were 5 minutes from our apartment when our friend's car was rear-ended by a pick-up at a backed up traffic light. As we approached the light, she had to slam the brakes to not hit the car in front of us. As we sat there at the light, there was the crunching sound of sheet metal and plastic and a strong jolt and my head slammed back into the headrest. I sat there for a few moments wondering what had happened because I knew we had stopped before hitting the car in front of us.

Fortunately the traffic had started moving at the same time he hit us so that we were not pushed into the car in front of us. No one was seriously injured, there was no blood. I was so shocked I don't know if I would have been able to use my first aid training. I remained quite shaken up for the next few hours as we waited for everything to be sorted out at the accident site, details to be exchanged, then to the police station where I waited in the car to make sure no one stole from the broken boot. I only started to come back into my body when were we at the car repair shop.

I believe that everything, or nearly everything has meaning, a message. Being rear-ended in a car seems to be about either taking my power or be powerfully pushed from behind. It also seems to be about moving forward. That I am not moving forward enough in my life and so am getting the message it's time to move forward, take action, be powerfully who I am and go for what I want.

I also find it very curious the conversation that had happened in the car. Our friend that was driving is going through a lot in her life: divorce, new relationship that isn't working, health problems. So nearly the entire car ride had been talking about what she is going through and the energy was quite frenetic and ungrounded.

Just before we were rear-ended I was talking about Jared and I's spiritual teacher in Oregon, USA. At the moment of the crash, I was saying how his weekly groups are quite confrontational and people accept that when being a part of it. Humm....another message perhaps?

I have found the accident to be more emotionally jarring than physical, though my neck was quite sore. Our friend's back and neck, which causes her discomfort already, went into spasms and she had to go to the doctor and get an injection for it.

But, we are very lucky, no one was seriously hurt, both drivers have insurance, the guy who hit us was very helpful and concerned. If we had been listening more intently, we would have heard the universe giving us these messages without being in a car accident, but I'm glad I was listening enough that it wasn't worse.

Zimbabwe Refugee

A few weeks ago I first met a Zimbabwe refugee living on the streets of Cape Town. He seemed a gentle guy who was so shut down emotionally his eyes were nearly blank. He had arrived in Cape Town a month earlier from Johannesburg and has been living on the streets mostly near Sea Point. One night he was beat up and all his stuff was stolen including his Zimbabwe ID. He felt pretty hopeless about his future.

Growing up in Zimbabwe his parents were gold panners, his Dad died when he was 8, his mom left two years later and so he stayed in an orphanage in the village. He went to school but there was abuse (physically and I think sexually) from his sponsors. When the economic crisis hit Zim he couldn't afford to keep going to school once they started charging fees in foreign currency. He worked odd jobs when he could get them and eventually met a South African who told him to go to South Africa where he could easily get a job and make a life for himself (this isn't true though, unemployment is quite high in South Africa). He tried to apply for a passport but it cost $600. That is A LOT of money, which he couldn't afford.

Meeting a trucker in Zimbabwe he smuggled himself across the border by hiding in the sleeping quarters of the truck and crossing the boarder at night. He didn't like Johannesburg so his friend paid his train ticket to Cape Town.

Like nearly everyone I've met who've been on the streets here, he has a lot of anger about his past, he dwells on questions like: why didn't his extended family help him finish school? Why did his dad die when he was so young? Why did his mother leave him? When his sponsor died, why didn't the sponsor's family help him?

He is willing to do any kind of work and has dreams of having his own place and a family. He is currently trying to get papers from the Department of Home Affairs so he can be in the country legally.

He has some hope for the future now and his eyes are beginning to have a glint in them; he'll even cracks some jokes. He isn't on the street anymore and has a support network through the various organizations that work with street people and refugees.

Wonderful weekend and African Hospitality

Jared and I just had the most lovely weekend away. A hiking group we joined went to the Kogelberg Nature Reserve in the southern cape, which is a world heritage site. We stayed in these cabins, simple but quite comfortable surrounded by immense beauty. Mountains, a river, a valley, small patches of forest tucked into kloofs (steep ravines)....it was gorgeous.

The hiking group is geared toward people interested in spirituality and intuition so the people who come are interested in things like yoga, healing modalities, etc.

I had such a lovely time I didn't want to come back.

In our cabin of 6 we were staying with a group of 4 friends who have known each other for years. One was an American who has been in South Africa for 30 years but somehow still maintained her American accent, then there was an Afrikaans woman and a couple who are both hairdressers who I think were both English-speaking as their first language. They were pretty funny.

I have met Afrikaans people who were very hospitable to me, but who were also very racist. This woman was so great, she was one of those progressive Afrikaaners who I haven't met very many of. She teaches yoga and is very passionate about it and is also quite good at it. She gave Jared and I a ride home and we stopped at this lovely hidden beach to watch the sun set with some others from the trip. Since it was getting late, she took us home with her to this lovely house built by an architect who loved Tuscan style houses.

We took her yoga class in the morning and played with her 1 year old grandson. Its a bit of a story of this little boy. His mother was 21 and had broken up with her boyfriend but they were still seeing each other and she became pregnant. The ex was riding his motorcycle to see her and got in an accident and became paralyzed and was in a coma for several months. She didn't know she was pregnant for months and being traumatized tried to comfort herself with alcohol. The father was 22 and hasn't coped well with being paralyzed and has become quite nasty. The little boy doesn't like to be with his father very much, but they are trying to work it out. Both the mother and her little son stay with the woman who gave us a ride and she is looking after them. The boy's mother is still in school training to be a teacher.

After the little kid got used to us, he liked us. Despite what he has experienced emotionally, he is a sweet, intelligent kid.

It was such a great weekend in a wonderfully beautiful place and with wonderful people.

Vegan Gluten-Free Cornmeal Banana Muffins!

I made vegan gluten-free cornmeal banana muffins last night. Yum yum! I used a recipe from Karina's Kitchen http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/2009/07/blueberry-corn-muffins.html and substituted the bananas for blueberries.

They turned out fantastic! Easy to make too. I even controlled myself and waited at least 5 minutes before shoving one into my mouth. I'm usually so eager to eat baked goods I don't wait for them to cool down at all before eating one. But this time, I actually followed the instructions and waited 5 minutes for them to cool in the pain before taking them out of the pan. Then I ate one. Mmmmm...warm baked goodness. I even ate it slowly to make sure I savored the taste.

I really love baking and cooking. Before the muffins I made a soup with sweet potatoes. Its from an East African cookbook I have, and I added some beans I had cooked earlier in the day. It was a great combination of flavor... sweetness from the potatoes and tomatoes with the spice of cardamon, cumin and coriander. And a slight coloring from the turmeric. Mmmm..... yum yum!!

Hope and Spirit

There was something I didn't mention in my last post about working with women in the township and street kids. Its so important too! There is such a strong spirit in people here. In both the women and in the kids who have experienced a lot of hardship they have hope. Hope that not only things will get better, but hope in their situation. The people we have worked with are also easy to smile. Its very refreshing.

Volunteering in a township and with street kids

Jared and I have been volunteering with two projects for awhile now, Work for Love and MyLife. Work for Love operates in a township outside Cape Town called Masiphlumelele and offers a wellness healing clinic each week. The clinic offers massage, homeopathy, tarot card readings, shiatsu and energy work and hypnosis. It's free of charge and mostly used by women in the township. Jared and I have been doing mini-sessions with them doing energy work and hypnosis with coaching. Jared has a background in counseling and therapy which has helped out a lot as the women have told us all about their problems and asked advice. There are social workers available to these women, but I don't know to what extent to how easily they are to get to.

One young woman came to us a few weeks ago and she has a young son. She came to Cape Town on her own, her family is all in the Eastern Cape in a rural area and so she doesn't have support in how to raise a child. The consequence has been that she doesn't know what to do with her son who is acting out since his father left and isn't interested in being a part of his life (a very common thing here). Her son hits her and screams and beats up other kids. Out of frustration she then beats her son (also a common thing). But if she learned some parenting skills and how to deal with her son's anger it would be a lot easier on both her and her son. Being away from her family though, she doesn't appear to have that support though.

Most of the women worry a lot. Some have a hard time sleeping at night due to worry. They worry about being unemployed, their partners being unemployed, bills, getting enough food to eat. So we help them ground and connect to themselves more and give them some suggestions in dealing with their worry through energy work and hypnosis.

Another project we've been involved with is with street kids in town through MyLife. They are mostly 18+. We have been doing healing with some of them to help deal with past trauma, and man do these kids have a lot of trauma. Some grew up orphans on the streets, addicted to tic (meth), mandrax or alcohol, have been in gangs, killed or raped people, been in and out of jail for theft, murder, attempted murder, been abused themselves and had violence directed at them. They have a lot of regret, guilt, shame, anger, and sadness. They also have a lot of potential. This project has helped several former street kids become chefs, sommeliers, and get jobs in the film industry among others. Their vision is to build an eco-village where street kids go to be rehabilitated and trained in life skills and as leaders.

Working with these kids and adults has been really great. Not having had a lot of different therapies they are more open to what we have to offer. They are also very eager to move on in their lives and this makes a big difference.

What has been amazing working in the township and with the street kids is to see that no matter what someone's past has been, or what their cultural upbringing is, is that they struggle with the same issues that privileged people both from South Africa and the western world struggle with (in our experience). It's all the same. It seems that everyone has the same issues no matter where they have been. Everyone wants to be accepted and loved for who they are and to live a purposeful life. And everyone struggles with guilt, shame, rage and sadness from their past.

We are so blessed to be in South Africa at this pivotal turning point in its history. This country has such potential and is attracting people from around the world to help in the shift. How cool to be a part of it.

Don't Eat the Cake

I've been vegan for 10 years and gluten-free for 3 or 4 months. I realized that gluten and wheat was causing me to feel very tired and bloated. Not good to look preggers and not good to have so much inflammation in the body. I've felt really good being off gluten (we can eat oats though), but I miss baked goods. I love baked goods. One summer I worked in Moscow, Idaho in the USA and they have a fantastic co-op there with a great baked goods section. That summer I spent a lot of my wages on baked goods and gained weight even though I was walking in the woods every day. I love those crusty breads with the soft middles, flaky scones, warm muffins, cookies and cake. Ahh I love cake. I have found a recipe for gluten-free cake that is pretty good. When I made it for Jared's birthday and ate massive amounts of cake in the following days I didn't gain any weight and my stomach didn't distend as it usually does after baked goods. Ah ha! This is pretty good I thought... I can eat a lot of cake and not show for it!

Several days ago on Sunday I went hiking with a group of people and afterwards we went to a coffee shop that has a Sunday special of tea and cake for R20. A very good deal. The coffee/tea is usually R10 and cake can range from R15-25. These were decadent cakes too, “American” style cheesecake, black forest, chocolate mouse... I wasn't even tempted because they weren't vegan and I don't like the taste of cream, eggs, or milk anymore. It's more than an ethical thing, I really don't like the taste. But I said to myself, if these cakes were vegan, even if they have wheat I would totally eat them.

If it were only that easy to manifest everything like this. Two days later, we went to a great Indian restaurant in Rondebosch, Cape Town and there were two vegan cakes. We've been to this place before, a simple no-frills cafe that does a lot of take-aways. Its all vegetarian and the lady told us today she is moving more and more toward vegan (Great!). After questioning her several times about the cake to make sure it was really vegan we got some.

That night we sat at home, having eaten the cake and drank some tea and waited to see what would happen. We were so tired anyway from a long day its was hard to say. We both felt a bit fuzzy in the head..but knew if we got bloated that would be pretty definitive.

The next morning my excema flared up. I've long heard that wheat exacerbates excema. Itchy itchy scratchy scratchy. A few days later and I'm still trying to calm it down. After I went to bed that night Jared said he could definitely feel the effects of the wheat. In the following days we both felt bloated and Jared felt tired.

Was the cake worth it? It wasn't as good as Sweet Pea Bakery in Portland, or A Piece of Cake in Sellwood, Portland (my favorite!), or that bakery in Eugene that has great vegan cakes, but it was good... at the time. The fallout though just isn't worth it. It's not good to eat something my body reacts so strongly to.

Rape in South Africa

South Africa has a high rate of rape. This article from the BBC is a good explanation of one of the reasons why.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8115219.stm
25 June 2009

South African rapist: 'Forgive me'

Dumisani Rebombo says peer pressure led him to rape

Dumisani Rebombo and his friend raped a young girl in their village in South Africa when they were teenagers.

Years later, he returned to the same village to find the woman he attacked and begged for her forgiveness.

Mr Rebombo, 49, is one of thousands of men in South Africa who admit to having carried out a sexual assault - one in four, according to a recent survey.

He told BBC News why he feels so many young men in his homeland engage in the ill-treatment of women.

---

When I was 15 years old, I took part in a gang rape.

Before the incident, I was constantly jeered for not being man enough.

At the time I was not ready to have a girlfriend when all my friends did.

I did not tend the cattle or sheep, nor did I attend the initiation school [where South African teenagers are circumcised in traditional rites of passage].

This fuelled my daily jeers.

My friends sang and clapped as if we had done something right Dumisani Rebombo South African rape survey shock

A friend and my cousin pressured me to prove that I was man enough, by taking part in the rape of a teenage girl in the village.

This was termed "straightening her up", since she did not want to go out with any of the local boys.

I succumbed to this daily pressure and on the day of the incident, when they saw me trembling with fear, they ordered me to take marijuana and beer to defeat my fears.

I did just that and the two of us [my friend and I] proceeded to rape the girl.

Guilty and scared

Afterwards, I was terrified.

I felt guilty but also scared that the news could reach my mother who had a high standing in the community.

The following day, when we went for our soccer practice, this incident was reported to all the other football players.

Dumisani Rebombo said he was prepared to face jail

On hearing the news, they sang and clapped as if we had done something right.

This helped to stop the jeering somewhat and I was allowed to associate with the other boys.

I still felt guilty, at least partially so, especially when I saw the girl in the village. Sometimes I tried to avoid meeting her.

But slowly, over time, I began to think less and less about the incident.

I left my village in Limpopo Province and went to live in the city and joined a religious group from which I learned a lot about love and respect for all.

Strangely, I did not think much of the incident - I just went on with my life.

I started work with an NGO (non-governmental organisation) where I mostly worked with unemployed mothers.

Every Monday morning, the women reported incidents of abuse in different forms.

Every time I heard of a negative act by a man, I was forced to go back to my own incident Dumisani Rebombo

As they did this, I could not help it but give way to introspection.

It was as if every time I heard of a negative act by a man, I was forced to go back to my own incident.

I then asked my employers to train us in a methodology which would target boys and men.

They did this and very soon, I felt challenged, self-consciously, to set an example to the men I was teaching.

Seeking forgiveness

I took a decision to go back to find the woman I raped.

I realised that the woman needed justice.

But also, I wanted to ask for forgiveness, now that I understood the effects and consequences for someone who has been raped.

South Africa's government has been urged to solve the rape epidemic

I went to my pastor about this. His response was: "You are saved now, you were once in the mud, but now you know the truth and you are therefore OK."

He also asked me if I was ready to go to jail. He said: "What if the woman went to the authorities?"

My answer was: "If I go to jail, that would be justice for that woman."

I therefore took the journey to the north.

I wanted her to know that I felt bad about what I had done to her, that I was a changed man and I was working with other men to prevent rape.

When we met, she showed a wry smile on her face.

Since we were at a public clinic, she thought I was a doctor or someone from the Ministry of Health.

I related my story to her. She looked at me and revealed that she had since been raped on two other occasions.

She told me how she often cringes when her husband touches her Dumisani Rebombo

She started crying. She told me how she often cringes when her husband touches her.

She told me that her life was never the same emotionally following these incidents.

Worse still, she was not ready to tell her husband of what had happened.

Finally, she said that she forgave me, and thought that I had meant well with all that I had said.

I left that room with a new burden - to do something about rape in my community and my country.

Machismo feelings

If you asked me: "What motivates so many men in South Africa to engage in un-consensual sex?" I would say that it is the machismo feelings and beliefs, coupled with patriarchal processes and tendencies.

I think that we raise boys in the wrong way, but later on in their lives we want to see them as different men who care and love.

My advice to young men who feel under pressure to rape, is to surround yourselves with good friends.

Learn to talk to someone about what is going on inside.

For with this, one can teach the young men to have other means of solving conflict.

And above all, to grow up respecting girls.

Dumisani Rebombo is a community development worker and public speaker, working for the Olive Leaf Foundation, in Johannesburg.

Sea Swells and Big Guns

There is a storm in Cape Town at the moment. It arrived on Monday with downpours, near-gale winds, and big sea swells. We live on the top floor of our apartment building and there isn't any insulation or space between us and the corrugated metal roof so it is quite loud when raining hard and it woke me up this morning with the pounding and blowing. Also, since our building isn't sealed so well, the wind comes in through the cracks and around the windows so the curtains sway back and forth.

A benefit of a storm are the big waves in Table Bay. The swells smash up against the Sea Point Promenade and launch up into the air 20 feet or so. Today Jared and I were walking to Sea Point and stopped at the intersection by Standard Bank to look towards the sea a block away and the big waves there. After watching for a minute or so we crossed the street and as we were walking past the bank I saw the guy in blue crouched by the bank wall holding a very big gun. The biggest barrel I've ever seen very close, I don't know guns at all but it looked like some kind of automatic thing. On the other side of the sidewalk was another guy in blue with his hand on the handle of his gun, which was tucked into his bullet proof vest, his eyes darting around. Both guys were very nervous, understandably so since there are a lot of attacks on armored vehicles when they pick up money from banks and stores. That was these guys' jobs. I've never seen anyone so nervous with a gun before, although I don't hang out with guys and guns and haven't encountered them much.

It was a bit of a shock, from looking at the ocean to looking at the barrel of a big gun and then the nervous guy holding it. I saw a lot of security people today. South Africa has a high crime rate and security personnel are everywhere, but today I really noticed them.

The storm is expected to continue through tomorrow and then the sun should come out again.

It's Not Always Good to Know the Details

A relationship with an apartment can be similar to a romantic relationship with a person. At first it's all goo-goo ga-ga, it's perfect, so lovely and beautiful, the view is amazing, its great to have a table to eat on, several chairs to choose from in which to sit, nothing is wrong with it. You may even feel that you aren't good enough for the place, that somehow you don't deserve it. It's a honeymoon, but soon the smell of sewage, the breeze that flows through even when all the windows and doors are shut, the puddle that forms under the bed when it rains hard, the car that was stolen from the parking lot, the police that came one night when a boyfriend of a tenant was accused of stealing cellphones, the guy down the street in jail for steeling carparts, and now the woman that was murdered next door this week, the one-sided perception ends and you are left with the stark reality that it isn't all positive, there are negatives too. That just like a person in a romantic relationship (any relationship really) there is two sides to this apartment and where it stands.

Becoming chatty with the manager of the building has drawbacks too. We love gossip, but sometimes knowing the gossip doesn't actually have any benefits. We would have found out about the murder anyway since it's in the paper, but not all the other little tidbits that come with managing a building for 11 years.

Like, how several years ago there was a group of Nigerians living in a flat running a drug scheme, or the 11 year old girl that hung out with them until a social worker came for her, or the group of 5 Asian girls living in a flat meant for 2. Or, that over the weekend when the gate wasn't working someone's car was stolen over night. Most buildings in South African cities have gates or walls around them. Our building has gates and a partial wall that allows people to hop over it. Jared and I have often wondered about this and make sure to keep the door locked all the time. The building is old and so is the gate so when it stopped working last week, it was left open over night by someone who couldn't be bothered to manually close it after they drove through. Sucks for the person who woke up to find their locked car gone.

And the murder. The building next to us is a holiday lodge/backpackers. We look down onto their backyard of sorts from our balcony. It's not usually very busy, though in the summer more people came through. Apparently there has been a women working there with her boyfriend for the past 10 months and on Monday it looks like he strangled her during a fight. He claimed she hung herself with a scarf in the bathroom, but when the police arrived she was on the bed and so far he looks pretty guilty so he's been arrested. We don't remember seeing her as our spying was into the back part of the place and the reception is in the front, but it's really sad. She was in her 30s and has, I guess, had, a child. The owner of the lodge is worried about the bad press since people don't generally want to stay somewhere a murder occurred. So bad press for the lodge, a family one member short, and a guy in jail. The paper said her parents drove 20 hours to Cape Town not knowing if it was in fact their daughter that was dead until they identified the body. Horrible.

South Africa unfortunately has a high murder rate...even though several years ago apparently the then president Thabo Mbeki said that South Africa doesn't have a problem with crime, but a perception problem of crime. One of the incredibly dumb things he said.

As of now, we still like our apartment and it's location but definitely have a more balanced view of it after 5 months of living in it.

The Good Food and Wine Show

The Good Food and Wine Show was at the convention center in Cape Town this weekend. At first, I hadn't wanted to go since I'm vegan and currently gluten-free. Gourmet food tends to be meat and dairy centered, with vegetables as either an after-thought or an enhancer, not the centerpiece. But food is a high value for both Jared and I. We eat well and very healthy and spend a fair amount of time in the preparation of food. So we really like food... It's a bit more than that actually, if we aren't preparing food, eating, or cleaning up from cooking, then we are thinking about food.

We decided to go to the show. The show was a cross between cooking demos like the Food Network channel (I always think of my friend Ae-young with cooking demos, the Food Network used to be her favorite TV channel), booths demonstrating nifty cooking tools like at the USA Oregon State Fair, samples, and wine. This being wine country around Cape Town, about 30% of the fair was different vineyards offering wine tastings of their wine. And it was free tastings! I didn't come anywhere near close to sampling them all, knowing when I reached my limit after the fortified wine booth... that red muscadel was so good, followed by the white muscadel, then the port and then the sherry. There is something so smooth about good fortified wine.

I was also delighted to find one organic vineyard that also had a low sulfite content. Apparently, all wines have a certain amount of naturally occurring sulfites that are a result of the fermentation process, but many conventional winemakers add sulfur dioxide as a preservative. According to Organic Wine Company (http://ecowine.com/sulfites) sulfur dioxide has been added to wines for 200 years. This website says many people have a low tolerance for sulfites, Jared is one of these people, so its great to find wine that doesn't have a lot of sulfites.

Cape Town has a big Muslim population so one corner of the fair was dedicated to Halaal booths. We had some veggie curry from one of them, they put the curry into this little metal-looking container and then popped it into the microwave. Jared got really nervous expecting sparks or the micro to blow up, but apparently they are special micro containers, so there was no fireworks. I was reminded of freshman year in college when the guys would put CDs into the microwaves until they cracked and the microwave turned black inside and the room smelt bad. Can't remember why this was supposed to be cool.

We finally left the show once we had been there for 6 hours and they were closing the place down. Yeah food!

Living in Nature

Yesterday while messing around Jared drew me a picture of where he would like to live. He drew a sun, trees (nature), the ocean, a house and a garden with flowers and vegetables. Then he drew some people to hang out with, and a car to drive to the city or other places to meet other people and for work. I was pretty thrilled by this little pictures of stick figures. Jared has always lived in cities and has been more reluctant to spend much time in nature. This has been changing though and now he also enjoys being in nature and out of the city as well.

Living in Cape Town has been my most citified experience of the places I've lived. We live in an apartment on the 6th floor of a building with a little balcony where my native Erica plant lives. Inside I have a handful of other plants, but I've missed having a garden and being closer to nature. I can hear the traffic outside nearly all the time. Walking around involves busy streets and loud cars.

There are definite benefits to where we live though. It's easy to get to town, easy to get to shops, and fairly easy to use the public transport system if I can figure out how to get to where I want to go (of the trains, buses, and minibus taxis it's not coordinated and there are only maps of train routes, its been very frustrating). Another benefit has been the amazing view of Table Bay from our apartment.

But I think overall I'd prefer to live somewhere quieter with a garden where I can grow some of my own food, play with plants, and easily walk into nature.

Going Through the Front Door

A new hotel, the One & Only, recently opened in Cape Town at the V&A Waterfront. Sol Kerzner, born in South Africa but not currently living here, has built luxury hotels around the world and is also involved with gaming (helped develop the huge gambling place Sun City near Jo'burg). He is sometimes called the Donald Trump of South Africa.

The One & Only in Cape Town is his first project in post-apartheid South Africa. We'd been watching it being built from out apartment but didn't know what it was. Just another building with construction cranes surrounding it. Then one day the cranes were gone and there was news that a fancy new hotel was opening and the party was full of celebrities including Sharon Stone and Nelson Mandela.

Stories of this exclusive opening party peppered the media and finally Jared and I decided to check it out the hotel for ourselves. Along the road we usually walk to get to the waterfront there is a driveway going to a BP building and there is also a sign that says deliveries for the One & Only. It was a long way around to the front of the building so we went in this back way. We went past the loading docks with some employees hanging out smoking, but we just acted like we knew where we were going and no one bothered us. We went around the side of the building to the water, a bridge, a water fountain, and the front of other buildings along this part of the waterfront. We stopped and were looking around, when a man in a suit (security people at fancy hotels wear suits) asked us if we were residents, we said, no, we were going to the One & Only and can we get to it this way? He said no, you must go in from the front, this was for residents only. Okay we said and went back the way we came.

Fifteen minutes later we walked through the front door of the hotel. We were dressed pretty casual, but that didn't matter. Since the hotel recently opened there are quite a few people still stopping by to check it out. We went through the lounge area which is also a bar with a huge floor to ceiling window and a view of Table Mountain and Devils Peak. Outside the bar is a patio area with some chairs next to the water and then down to the right a bit is a water fountain and a bridge....ummmm yeah..... this looks familiar. Oh wait, I was just standing in this very spot just 20 minutes ago....

From this spot 20 minutes ago we had been able to see the back area of the hotel and the back entrance to the bar, though we didn't know it...but we hadn't been allowed to go that way....why? Rules probably. But it got us to thinking about back doors and front doors and which way we usually go. I'm not talking about sex here but life. I think we have been trying to go about setting up stuff here by going through the back door instead of walking up to the front, announcing ourselves and claiming our right to walk through that front door. I often feel nervous going into some fancy place, especially dressed as casual as I usually am dressed, but attitude portrays so much, and claiming the right to walk through the front door and go for it is the way to make a difference and to be big in the world.

South Africa's Elections

South Africa held elections this past Wednesday 22 April. Like the governmental system of the UK, people vote for a political party and that parties' presidential candidate becomes the next President of South Africa. It was pretty much a given that Jacob Zuma would become the next President. His party, the African National Congress has had a huge majority since 1994 when South Africa held its first free election and Nelson Mandela became president.

There has been lots and lots and lots of controversy surrounding Jacob Zuma. It has filled the newspapers, and new stations. It is so complicated and goes back years, but what I have been able to piece together is that is has a lot to do with arms deals made in the 1990s when he was deputy president to Thabo Mbeki. Corruption charges were put against him, he said he wanted his day in court to prove himself innocent, then did everything he could to avoid going to court. There was evidence that perhaps Thabo Mbeki and some people around him used their political power to alter the process so that Zuma would be charged. After lots and lots of drama, the charges were dropped two weeks before the election even though the National Prosecuting Authority said there was a very strong case against him but that the way the charges came to be was inappropriate. So it it all over? It may surface again.

In the States, I think this would ruin a political candidate. Even if they were acquitted, unless they were very charismatic (think Bill Clinton) it would basically ruin them. But here in Africa people are more forgiving of this sort of thing. It's a totally different mindset.

Another controversy with Zuma was the rape he was acquitted for awhile back. He had sex with an HIV positive woman, then in order to prevent himself from contracting HIV, he took a shower after having sex. Yes, that is right, TOOK A SHOWER TO PREVENT HIV. Umm....okay. I know this country has had some issues making the connection between HIV and AIDS (Mbeki denied there was a connection for years) but, come on! A well-known political cartoonist, Jonathan Shapiro ever since has drawn Zuma with a shower head attached to his head dripping water.

In fact, Zuma is suing Shapiro for defamation. Shapiro was an anti-apartheid activist and during the apartheid regime drew political satire criticizing their policies. Now that South Africa has a democracy, he criticizes those in power now. This is a political satirists job. Nelson Mandela understood this and didn't take it personally, but Zuma is different, he is more juvenile than Mandela.

In any case, he will now be South Africa's president. It's hard to say what changes there will be if any. People are frustrated with crime, inadequate housing, lack of jobs, and poor education. They were promised lots and lots of stuff in 1994 like free houses for everyone. Some people believed everyone would be given a bank account and washing machines would fall from the sky. This hasn't all happened of course. While some people have gotten free government houses, others have been on waiting lists for over 10 years.

The election went smoothly, just a few glitches with running out of papers and long long lines. A handful of election officials were arrested when found trying to stuff the ballot boxes, but there was no violence that I heard of. Zuma started celebrating before the announcement was made that he will be the next President. I read in the paper today he could possibly hold the most expensive inauguration in South African history.

Pope in Africa

The Pope was recently in Africa. His comments about how people should not use condoms in Africa does not go over well here with the high rate of HIV/AIDS. Thousands of lives are put into danger as a results of his comments.

Zapiro a cartoonist here published the following cartoon:

Prostitutes and Strippers

Walking along Main Rd in Green Point the other night, I noticed the prostitutes. I had seen women before standing on the street corners. They appeared to be waiting for someone, a friend I assumed, to pick them up and go out somewhere. They are indeed waiting for someone, but not the kind of friend I had assumed. I hadn't noticed them as prostitutes before because most of them are wearing the same sort of clothes other women wear. There was one who was dressed in a more flamboyant costume, but when we passed her, she looked as if she may be transgender. One of the reasons I finally noticed it the other night was because one of the women who was waiting on the corner started walking toward a car that had pulled over. As she was walking to the car, it hit me, then she opened the passenger door and stuck her head into negotiate. At this point we passed on the sidewalk, and then a minute later the car passed us with both of them inside and she was directing him to turn onto a side residential street. She was wearing jeans and a jean jacket. This part of Main Rd in Green Point in Cape Town doesn't have shop fronts, just the entrances to apartment buildings and built up walls surrounding the buildings.

Now that I've noticed it, I see them all the time in the evening and at night. Normally dressed women standing on the sidewalk and on the corners waiting. They don't seem to talk to the people walking on the street.

There is an investigative journalism TV show “Special Report” on Tuesday nights. This week was about strippers in South Africa. Back in Portland, Oregon I know at least some strip clubs don't pay the strippers and the only money they make is from tips, lap dances, and private dances. The industry is completely unregulated here and the women extremely taken advantage of. In addition to not paying the dancers, the women have to pay weekly or daily tariffs in order to work at a club. Then they are fined for things such as being a few minutes late or having their make-up slightly off. In some of the clubs, they are forced into prostitution. The private booths have locks and the fees for working at the club are so high they have two choices: to leave and work somewhere else or to have sex with their customers. Some chose to leave and find another club to dance at and others decide to slip across the line into prostitution.

Reminders I'm in a Developing Country

South Africa has a very good infrastructure for Africa. A great network of paved roads, railways, buses. Cape Town is also pretty developed and in some parts could be any city in the world. Tall banking skyscrapers, people in business attire on the streets. So sometimes I forget I am in a developing country.

South Africa is holding the World Cup next year. 2010. Big deal. Lots of construction everywhere. Particularly where I live, which is pretty close to the stadium that is being built in Cape Town that I've heard will hold semi-finals. I just look out my window and see the cranes working away. Not only on the stadium is there construction. Some roads are also getting a make-over, new lampposts are being installed, and fiber-optic cables are going in. Over a month ago at night I heard jack-hammering and looked out to see a crew jackhammering in the middle of the Main Road digging a hole. They worked throughout the night. Then they gradually worked their way up the sidewalk past my apartment. A crew of men hand dug a trench in the sidewalk with pick-axes. This was quite a sight. Manual labor is hard. I've done some trail building and using these tools is hard. Using them for 8 hours a day 5.5 days a week sucks. In the heat of summer. As I spied from my 6th floor window and as I walked by, it appeared these guys didn't even drink much water.

Once they buried the fiber optic cable they filled the trench partly with sand. Sand that had been dumped at the corner of the road. Sand that was dumped next to a storm drain and sand being sand, slid down into the drain and filled it. Not so good. Now they have completely filled the trench and laid gravel on top. On top of the gravel they've put oil. Some kind of black goopy oil. The empty oil canister is lying next the sand pile next to the storm drain and now there is black goopy oil in the storm drain. Okay, now maybe in a more developed country sand in a storm drain may not matter, but oil would. That storm drain leads directly out to the ocean and so will the oil once the winter rains come.

Another way I know I'm in a developing country: I recently read in the local paper about sewage just off-shore of a popular beach nearby. This is happening in a very upscale part of town: Clifton. As far as I know, you've got to have a lot of money to live there. There are some popular surfing spots and last year a few surfers got sick after coming into contact with some poopy looking stuff. Recently some surfers found some more poopy looking stuff and it was traced back to some rocks where it was oozing out of. Directly down from a new development. It appears the developers couldn't be bothered doing the sewage properly for the building so its just oozing into the ocean. Definitely not a good thing.

So these are the negative reminders that I am in a developing country. Jared suggests I also write about the good things that go along with being in a developing country. It's good to be balanced about it. Since not much can be relied on, it keeps things fresh and new. Since it's not as safe as the US or UK, we have to stay aware and so keep in contact with our surroundings and don't slide down into complacency and not noticing anything.

Most of all are the people. Even a lot of the South African whites here have a different sense about them compared to the US. A sense of knowing that life can be hard. And not taking things for granted. So many people in the US take so much for granted and get worked up about the most insignificant things. They get so insulated in their small communities and forget about the rest of the world. While there are constant reminders about how small the world is, there is so much to it! Here, many people are still on basic survival. They have directly experienced that life must be lived and not drifted through.

I'm reminded of the mini-bus taxis, a sort of public transport. On Friday and Saturday nights they blast trance music as they zoom about town, and on Sunday mornings they blast Africa gospel as they pick up church goers.

Another thing that is different about being here. The other day Jared and I were walking and passed a woman pushing a man in a shopping cart. He was lying in it making “wah wah” sounds like a baby and she was laughing. It was really funny.

It's all a reminder to pay attention and enjoy. Pay attention to life. Pay attention even to the great quality food I eat on a daily basis and to actually taste it, feel it in my mouth, experience the pleasure of eating and the sensations as my body embraces the basic nutrients of life. For me, I know I'll be able to buy more produce tomorrow and make more good tasting nutritious food, but for many, that knowledge isn't a part of their life.

Article from the Daily Voice

Here is the article I mentioned in the posting about Obama's inauguration. Its from a tabloid here, and like tabloids in the USA and UK, I think its read mostly by the less-educated. The reason I find this article so interesting is that the writer gets across some important points regarding politics here. Such as Jacob Zuma who may become the next president even though he is facing corruption, money-laundering and other charges. I've kept the typos.


From the Daily Voice Fri 16- Sat 17 January 2009

“Do the Maths”

Today we will be doing what is called maths, which is short for Manthamenatics.

What is it? How does it work? What is it good for? And how do you actually do it?
Well let's start at the beginning.
Maths is the science of adding and subtracting funny little symbols called numbers from each other.
For instant: one, two, and three—I'm sure you've come across them before.

Cool
Adding is when you combine one or more numbers with each other to create a new number.
Example: One plus one equals two. How cool is that? I think it's amazing.
And just imagine how much space you save all the time when you can write two instead of having to write one plus one all the time!

But. As always, it's not bladdy perfect, this maths vibe. As soon as it gets a bit more complicated it actually becomes difficult, and before you know it you're more confused than Tony Yengeni heading toward a red light.

Example: Take ou Mathews Phosa for instant.

He is the treasure General of the ANC. Which doesn't mean that he is a general in charge of a treasure but more like a sergeant major in charge of an overdraft.

He's the money guy for the ruling party and one would hope that he would be very flippen good at maths.

I'm not sure if he is but he sure is passionate about it.

Earlier this week, when Mr Zuma, president of the ANC, was once again up for corruption and fraud charges and was getting nicely back in the sh!t, Mr Phosa tuned that they had not yet reached the point where the political and moral cost of supporting ou Zuma had become too high.

Intergrity

Great for Mr Zuma if you consider that so far it's only cost the ANC their integrity, a massive split in the party, credibility in the eyes of the world and, most likely, a thing called a “two thirds majority” in parliament.

I don't fully understand it but it's maths and I think it's important.

You see, maths can be very creative.

The previous president of our beautiful country was also an expert at maths.

He proved, for example, that millions of people suffering from HIV and AIDS in South Africa are worth less than one principle...that he is right.

And that's not all. Our government is adept at this “couple of millions equals less than one” maths and have gone to great lengths to denemonstrate it to us over the years.

Here are more examples:

What is a friendship with one old, mad, and sick dictator worth? Come on I know you can do it—just concentrate. Got it yet? That's right!

The lives of millions of innocent people and the economy of an entire region! Excellent!

That's right guys, one Mugabe is worth about one and a third whole Zimbabawes because otherwise our whole way of dealing with them makes but f**k-all sense if you ask me.

Here's another one: What is one old crony in a uniform worth to a country full of people who have to stick to rules and laws, and pay taxes and vote and sh!t?

I know! A year's worth of massive salary!

Crook

That's what the government pays Mr Jacky Selebi who is not even working now that he's being investigated for allegedly being a crook, but had his contract renewed for another year anyways.

Even after he lost his job as the boss of Interpol and was too much of an embarrassment o actually go to work anymore.

Now that's creative people.

What do we learn from all of this? Where does the path of knowledge lead us?

It teaches us the following: Mathamanantics is not an exact science, it's a creative art. Expecially if you work in South African politics.

The question is not whether you can add one and one but rather: do you want to? And who's picking up the bill?

Dreadlocks in South Africa

I have had dreadlocks for 6 years now. I started them when I was here studying abroad. I had shaved my head since it was something I always wanted to do, and as it was growing back, I thought, hey, I'm in Africa why not get dreadlocks? So I went to a hair salon and asked them to make me some dreadlocks. What they did to my 3-4 inch hair was to put it into clumps and put wax all over them. What I ended up with was a head full of wax, and it was quite painful. I was assured that when my hair grew, it would grow dreaded. This wasn't the case and my hair just got nasty. So I went to another salon, this time in the township accompanied by my boyfriend at the time who translated for me what I wanted. They said, oh, this was done all wrong! But then what they did was to pull apart the big clumps of wax and clump my hair into smaller clumps of wax. He did tell me to rub my hair and head with a wool sweater or towel and this would tangle the hair. This worked and small dreads started to form. Once back in the States I learned about metal combs and backcombing the hair and rolling it and this excellerated the process. It was 2 years before it looked like I had dreadlocks. Lots of work.

I didn't know this before, but dreadlocks mean something in South Africa. It's not simply a hairstyle, but they are associated with rastafarianism and rebellion. I don't know a lot about rastafarianism, but dreadlocks, reggae music, and smoking massive amounts of marijuana are often associated with it (this isn't what it is actually about). Nearly every day as I walk around here in Cape Town someone greets me because of my hair. With some groups of people, having dreadlocks means having instant respect, I'm suddenly in some underground network of people without even knowing it. I don't try to explain to people I am not a rasta, I just go along with it. It's easier that way, and it's kind of fun.

I often get called "rasta" and at a heath food shop the other day I was looking at the shelves and the guy at the shop said "Hi rasta, how are you rasta? Can I help you rasta?" He was really friendly, and gave me his number, the number of his reggae DJ friend, names of clubs playing reggae, and said he could hook me up with marijuana, any kind I wanted, just give him a call. I get offered to buy marijuana a lot because of the dreadlocks, and I thought how different things are here, that even though marijuana is illegal, a guy working at a health food store so blatantly offers it to me. In the States, in Portland, people don't offer marijuana to me on the streets. I think even though I have dreadlocks people can tell I don't smoke. I have found smoking marijuana changes the energy field and makes it all wobbly. Like a Malawian guy staying at the backpackers we were at. He is nearly stoned all the time, and his energy field is compressed and wobbly.

I have noticed two things seem to be big here that I didn't expect: rastafarianism and followers of Osho (more on Osho another time). I am on a quest to find out why rastafarianism is so popular here. It's more than just smoking lots of dagga (local term for marijuana), because they could just be pot heads and not consider themselves to be rastas. I've talked to a few people about it, but haven't gotten the key yet. My hunch is that it has something to do with African pride (Haile Selassie an important guy in the philosophy was the Emperor of Ethiopia), and an idea of unity and love. Although I hear people talk about this "love" I haven't met anyone embodying it. That wouldn't make the philosophy wrong, I certainly don't meet many people following different religions who embody their faith either.

Obama Inauguration South African Style and Politics

We watched the Obama inauguration live today on local TV. Nearly everyone I have talked to here, both South African and immigrants have been very happy Obama won the election and are hopeful and excited. This morning on TV there was quite the discussion about whether Obama should be called “black.” In South Africa it isn't as simple as white and black. There is white, coloured, black, and Indian. This classifications have historically been very important; during apartheid rights were based on which classification people were designated in. Race classification is still taken quite seriously here, and a lot of identity goes with what race people identify with. The people who lived in the Cape when the Europeans came were the Khoisan. Their descendants are considered coloured, and also people of mixed race are also considered coloured. Under this classification Obama is considered coloured, and some people here think that is what he should be called, though this isn't a term that would be embraced in the States.

During the inauguration, the talking heads on TV had some interesting comments. One, was that the 2 million people in DC were there, not only to be there for an amazing part of history, but also to make sure that Bush did indeed leave the office. In the US, I don't think many would suggest that Bush would try to not leave office but here in Africa that is not an uncommon occurrence (Zimbabwe for example). Another comment I don't hear from talking heads in the States was that President Clinton has a lot more white hair than when he started office. A comment people watching TV in the States would say, but not the presenters.

People in Africa seem very hopeful that Obama will improve relations and increase aid. One talking head said Obama looked serious and that the world's hopes rest on him. Wow, what a burden.

South Africa is scheduled to hold elections this year. Jacob Zuma, president of the ANC, the largest party, is favored to win. But he is up for corruption charges. The charges had been dropped last year and now in the last few weeks were reinstated. There was a good article in the tabloid about it, that explained it in an interesting way. I'll post it soon. No one really knows what will happen. There are rumors the ANC will try to change the constitution before the election so that a sitting president cannot go on trial. It looks unlikey the ANC will maintain their 2/3 majority after the election so they would be unable to change the constitution then. Last year when Thabo Mbeki, stepped down from the presidency after some hoopla, a bunch of people from the ANC left and formed a new party Cope which is gaining support. So it'll be an interesting year to see what happens.

Photos on Flickr link

I've added some more photos to Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/deb_hill/
Most are in this set: http://www.flickr.com/photos/deb_hill/sets/72157610752935960/

Horray!

Drama Continued...

After Jared and I went to the restaurant in Camps Bay to pay the bill for the elaborate dinner we had with John he assured us he would pay us within a few days. The next morning he vanished. We tried contacting him several times during the week but didn't hear anything. We talked with the woman who runs the backpackers and it turns out we are not the only ones he owes money to. We are just a part of his elaborate network of lies.

When he moved into the backpackers last month, he wanted to pay by credit card. When his card was rejected, the manager said he needed to pay in cash. He gave her a small amount then strung her along for nearly a month until she finally said he needed to either pay or leave immediately. They got in a shouting match. Then he left without taking any of his stuff, or telling anyone he was leaving. All his fancy shoes and shirts, his dog bowls and leash, his glasses, all this he left. It was all strung about his room like someone who takes drugs. He had told Jared and I he had done the drug thing when he was younger but wasn't interested in that anymore. This it turns out is just another one of his lies, and he had been on drugs since he was 18.

Another one of his lies was that when he went partying on New Years Eve with some people, he said he had paid for their entire time, but it turns out they lent him money. And when the manager cleared out his room at the backpackers she found the bill from the restaurant we went to and he had written a nearly 30% tip for the bill! Jared hadn't seen this when he paid it...10% is standard here.

As the story continued to develop this morning we learned that he has been on drugs since he was 18, has mooched and scammed everyone around him, creating a trail of hurt and deceit where he goes. We are left wondering just what he told us is true? We all really liked him, he was such a nice guy and both Jared and I didn't pick up anything from him that would have suggested such a scam. But looking back some things seem out of place...

I don't think we will get any money back from him, and the manager of the backpackers probably won't either. She said there used to be a general rule that backpackers wouldn't allow South Africans to stay there because this was usually the sort of thing that happened, and maybe she needs to revisit this.

I don't think of him as being a bad person, and I still like him, but if he were to contact us again, I'd be very wary of any dealings with him.

Drama

We've encountered a lot of drama since coming to South Africa. First there was lots of drama with the woman we came to work with. Then at the hostel/backpackers we've been staying at, there has been a fair amount of drama with the other people staying here. Most of the people staying here are long-termers, and not travelling. One guy, a South African is always saying how he doesn't have money and he eats pap all the time, usually with not much else. Pap is made from white maize meal, a staple here but not that nutritious. He apparently has trouble having money for food, but somehow gets money for the many cigarettes he smokes every day and the drugs he takes. So to supplement his pap he steals food from the rest of us. No one has actually seen him taking the food, but there is somewhat a general consensus he is the culprit. Sometime things outrightly are taken, or a new package of something is opened when the owner hasn't done it. While Jared and I were in Durban for a week, lots of our food was gone when we came back. At first I was pissed off, but not everyone knew we were coming back and may have thought the food was abandoned. At first I had sympathy for him, but when I realized he was buying cigarettes and drugs I didn't have sympathy for him anymore.

Being vegan, I think our food may be less tempting to take, but we've gone to putting all our food in plastic bags tied at the top, this is also good for the stuff that stays outside the fridge in order to keep the cockroaches out.

Then last week, several items belonging to the hostel/backpackers was stolen. The iron, an electric skillet, and the CD/radio player. This last one really pissed off the manager and she confronted this guy and told him he had to leave. She thinks it's him because there weren't many other people around, and right before the CD player disappeared he asked for a black plastic bag. He told her he wouldn't leave, he is still here so I am not sure what will happen.

We've never trusted him, and he seems to be doing worse than normal. The other night when Jared got up to pee at 2am he was wandering around the halls muttering to himself.

Even more drama happened several nights ago when Jared and I went out to a moderately nice restaurant in Camps Bay. We went with a businessman we met at the hostel who has appeared to have money. I'll call him John. He drives a nice car, owns his business and is going on a trip to India at the end of the month and will be staying in 5 and 6 star hotels. The reason he is staying in this hole in the wall is because he rented out his house for the holiday season. He originally told us he accidentaly rented it out the wrong months, having meant to rent it out while he was gone in India. At the time I totally believed him, but thought it was a bit strange.

So we went out to dinner, and he said it was going to be his treat. It was half priced cocktails, so we ordered cocktails, then appetizers, then the meal. He wanted wine with the meal, so then we had a bottle of wine. Then he ordered soup and several cokes, then we all had to have dessert. We were at the restaurant a total of 3 hours or something. A nice leisurely meal. I had a good time. When it came time to pay the bill he went inside to charge it to his card and said he'd meet us upstairs. We waited at the table for him instead and when he came out I asked if it was all sorted since he had been gone for awhile. He said yes, it's all sorted. But when we were walking out our waiter was coming with us, and our host said he needed to go to his car and get his other card. This seemed quite weird. So Jared and I waited outside while he got his other card and then went to the restaurant. Jared didn't think things seemed right so we walked back down to the restaurant. John was coming out but the manager was holding his cell phone. I was a bit fuzzy at this point and didn't really put anything together. Again we asked if it was all sorted and he said yes.

Jared, being the socialite he is had traded phone numbers with our waiter. The phone started ringing at about 1130 pm. At first I didn't answer it, who calls at 1130pm? But it kept ringing so I answered it. It was the manager from the restaurant. He said the bill was never paid and where was John who was supposed to be going back and pay it? Confused I started to defend saying yes it had been paid and blah blah. But why would the manager lie? I asked him to call back in 10 or 15 min. Jared and I went and talked to John. No, we find out the bill hadn't been paid, his card had been rejected. He has money he tells us, but for some reason it hasn't been transferred properly between accounts. John talks to the restaurant when they call back and say its all sorted and he will go in the morning.

The next day we ask John how it went paying the bill. He said he went to the restaurant but the manager and waiter wasn't there and since they had his cell phone he wasn't going to pay the bill without getting his phone back. The manager on duty told him this was fine, come back tomorrow.

On the following day our phone starts ringing again. The phone is a piece of shit and hard to hear the other people on it so I didn't answer until about the 4th call. Its the restaurant saying John hasn't come to pay the bill. I get defensive again (I do this when confronted) and say he went in yesterday but the manager wasn't there so he didn't pay it. I'm told, no the manager was here and John never showed. Oh, I say...I don't know what to tell you then. He asks how to get ahold of this guy, and I say we'll be seeing him later tonight. The restaurant then proceeds to call us a total of 25 times. Half way through this I turned the ringer off. We were in the train station so I couldn't have heard him anyway. What would I have told them? We were stuck in the middle of this mucky thing.

Jared and I are thinking at this point something is really wrong and John must not be telling us the entire truth. We start to think he doesn't have money like he says he does... We get back to the backpackers and talk to John. Jared is insistent that if he needs to borrow some money from us to pay the bill (and so they'll stop calling us, and not press charges against John) we can do that. John says he will go back to the restaurant tonight and pay it. The restaurant is getting pretty pissed and said they will charge him with credit card fraud or something if he doesn't sort it out by tonight.

In the end, Jared and I go with him to the restaurant and end up paying the bill. We were assured by John that he'll pay us back in a few days....fortunately we are in South Africa where the dollar is stronger and so such a meal is much cheaper than in the US. I really hope we get the money back.

And for a last bit of drama, getting off the train yesterday the door shut on Jared's bag and the train started to move with his bag stuck in the door. Both Jared and the bag are fine, just a bit of a sore shoulder.

Its my intention now that we just see the drama and aren't a part of it. It is all so silly and useless.