Day One of Classes

Day One of Classes

July 22, 2013

Okay I have barely gotten it through my head that I am in South Africa yet let alone that I am here to take classes in the middle of summer. This isn’t going to be pretty. Physically I am unharmed, but my brain is not doing well. I came back into academia with a running start to find that the race has already begun and I am way behind. Mantra of the day: Everything will be alright in the end. If it is not alright it is not yet the end.

So I woke up this morning at 7, having showered the night before. Thankfully my phone alarm went off, but I soon realized that event though my phone had been plugged in all night, it hadn’t actually charged at all. I flipped the switch on the outlet and tried again while I frantically got ready. My first class wasn’t until 8:40 so I still had some time.

My throat is killing me. I think the sudden transition from Summer to Winter weather has finally caught up with me. I’m not as sick as other people here, but I can feel the creeping crud coming for me. Product placement ad for Airborne: Here

I get dressed carefully, knowing full well I will be stared at all day today. A simple blue sweater and black jeggings are my fashion armor today. I walk out of my room with my key, close my bedroom door behind me, which automatically locks, and walk to the bathroom. I place my key (for which I have no keychain) ontop of the toilet paper dispenser, consciously telling myself that’s not the best place, Rachel. I figured the worst that would happen was that it would fall on the floor and my a loud clattering noise. Oh how wrong I was. When I ripped toilet paper out of the dispenser I heard a small metallic on tile sound but saw nothing fall. Getting up I realized that my key had fallen behind the dispenser and wedged itself between the dispenser and the wall. 7:20 in the morning on the first day of my classes. All my books were in my room and I was wearing my showershoes!

I seriously considered ripping the dispenser from the wall with my terrified, desperate, Hulk-like strength, but thought better of it and sought out to find my subwarden. Poor, sweet, wonderful Buks was dead asleep in her room when this obnoxious stupid international student banged on her door and begged for help. She let me in and was a sweetheart about it, but now I just have no key to my room. Awesome. Gonna have to pay for a new one.

Breakfast was fine. It was in a familiar dining hall where we had eaten all week, but now only a few international students were assigned there. Lauren, Caitie, Gillian and I ate cold eggs and rice krispies with hot milk, sharing our concerns for the day ahead.  We also watched a bird eat butter off the table next to us…

Rhodes Fun Fact: Red winged starlings apparently get in the dining halls all the time here and eat the butter. The dining staff saran wraps the stick of butter to a plate then places the plate upside down on the table. It’s kind of weird to see all these face down plates of butter. The more you know*

Next we need to get our fingerprinting done. Don’t freak out! It sounds intense but that is how students here register for their res’ and for meals. You have to register your left and right pointer finger print. Up until this point we have been essentially locked out of our res until someone comes in or goes out, and then we look like a serial killer when we slip in the door behind them. I live here! Honest! That whole process wasn’t so bad. We are finally registered and now the kitchen staff can’t get mad at us and refuse us food anymore. Also now I feel like a secret agent. So sneaky! Though now I’m paranoid something horrible with happen to my fingers and I’ll be locked out of my res…

My first class (Drama 3 – a third level course full of drama majors who know each other really well and recognize me as foreign right away. I am the only exchange student in this class btw) is at 8:40. I scurry off to go find my class. The course coordinator for Drama 3, Haike, a severe though sweet and passionate den mother of sorts with high expectations, was kind enough to meet me in the lobby of the theater to show me to my class. It took me forever to actually get into the drama building though and she was a little late which stressed me out to know end, but again, it was alright in the end.

My very first lecture of my junior year of study abroad was taught by a guest lecturer. I quirky granola hippie feminist Muppet of a woman. I loved her energy! She launched right into talking about Judith Butler and referencing things that had been taught last semester. I felt totally out of place but tried my best to hang in there. I’m going to have to work really hard to keep up with all of this. I loved what was being taught and the lecture was only 45 minutes long, but by the time I exited the classroom with the other student, I was totally drained and a little dazed. I marched down the stairs back to the lobby on autopilot, to be greeted by the shining faces of Gillian, Patrick, and Anne-Laure who are all in my Drama 2 class.

My Drama 2 class is in the exact same room as my Drama 3. With a bit more familiarity and friends by my side, I go back up the stairs for the next lecture. The room again is filled with drama students. They are hard to miss. They are loud and energized, shouting at people to ask how their holiday was, teasing each other, catching up on gossip. They are all dressed with a particular, hard to copy style, that probably suits their personality perfectly. I get a taste for the dynamic of the room just by looking around and listening. Under the din of the drama veterans catching up, Patrick, Anne-Laure, Gillian and I catch up on how our days have been so far.

Heike comes in and introduces the four exchange students, as if we needed to be pointed out, then introduces the course coordinator, Rob, and his gravity defying spiky hair. Then they both leave to make room for our lecturer for the day….who never shows up. After maybe 10 minutes of first-day-of-school-no-teacher- ness two students go in search for the professor and for Rob. Rob returned minutes later to say he had forgotten to remind the lecturer and that no one would be there to teach us. Bye!

The time wasn’t completely wasted. We met 3 very nice girls in our Drama class, 2 of which I have now seen other places on campus. We exchanged waves – a true sign of endless friendship. Clearly I’m the most popular thing on campus at this time.

Each of my Drama classes has a set of outside of lecture instruction, kind of like the South African equivalent of lab times in America, I guess you could say. For Drama 2, I have a voice tutorial (tut) and one practical (prac). I can choose from 4 available pracs. For Drama 3 I have to take 3 pracs. So that’s 8 lectures a week, 3 pracs, and 1 tut. I can’t believe that that actually makes sense to me now. Weird.

Anyway. The reason I explained all that is after lectures we had to go haphazardly sign up on the Drama bulletin board for our tut and prac times. I had a heck of a time trying to figure out what I was eligible for and making sure I don’t have clashes. For now my fingers are crossed. I hate synchronizing schedules and by the time the process was done, my brain felt like a wrung sponge. Also, my voice tut and my applied theatre prac for Drama 3 were scheduled for later that day. Two classes I didn’t even know I had would be taking place, God knows where, in a couple hours. Time to go lay down

After a brief respite, Gillian and I headed to our voice tut. We had been told it was in the “Upper Studio” and then been directed by a vague gesture towards the ceiling. We walked all over the building, found a list that said it was room 301, found 301, wiggled the handle, panicked when it didn’t open, then followed the group of people that laughed at us then walked in the open door behind us to the studio. The tut group was much smaller than our lectures and everyone again seemed to know each other really well. There was a very clear dynamic as to who the (excuse me) Head Bitch in Charge was. Gillian waited quietly for the professor to arrive.

The professor, Push, was awesome. She was so cool and funny and just so glad to see everyone. Again, the entire group spoke about last year’s class and assignments without trying to give us an idea of what was going on. Wide-eyed Gillian and I looked at each other while being left out of what felt like an enormous inside joke. All that really happened was the students talked about their holidays. HBIC sighed and flipped her hair about how tired she was from being involved in the Arts Festival. Then Push talked to them individually about papers they had submitted last term. Papers we had never written, which left Gillian and me with nothing to do and unsure of whether or not we should leave. Awk sauce.

Eventually the class got smaller (people were permitted to leave once they got their papers) and Jeff and Hannah came and talked to us. Jeff is typical theater guy – slim build, black hair, slightly scruffy beard, loose clothes for easy movement. I think he has some dance experience. He also was involved in the recent Arts Festival. Hannah is just adorable. Quirky with a big mane of blonde hair. I was glad we met them and they invited us to yoga later that night.

Next I ran off to History 2, which is actually full of exchange students. We took up an entire 2 rows. Finally some familiar faces! I sat next to Sean with Paul and Anne-Laure and, later, Nora. Behind us was Caitie, Zach, Jennah, Katie, and Becca. Finally I relaxed and tried to just enjoy the class, get a feel for what it would be like to take the course all year. At this point I was so exhausted from Drama drama that I was seriously considering dropping History on the spot.

The professor was actually pretty great, had little to no accent, and handed out helpful powerpoint slides. Overall the course felt a bit like a high school social studies course. We shall see.

Finally: Lunch! Anne-Laure needed help signing up for her pracs and tuts, but we got to the bulletin boards the sign up sheets were gone. We had searched out Rob first knowing that he was the Drama 2 coordinator and when we couldn’t find him we asked Heike. She was less than helpful and reiterated that she was the coordinator for Drama 3. Also, Grahamstown and Rhodes fundamentally shut down at lunch time. The campus looks deserted and good luck getting anyone to help you.

Back at Courtney-Latimer dining hall I met Becca and Nora. We all slumped exhaustedly over our plates and exchanged horror stories from the day while the birds ate the butter around us. General consensus report of the day: we all feel stupid and tired, and the regular students here gawk at us then mimic our accents and confused looks as we search for classes. Yes I’m new here. Get over it.

Life Lesson: I have a new found appreciation for the international students who come to WAC. I don’t know if I’ve ever stared at them the same way that I have experienced here, but I am going to make a conscious effort from now on NOT to stare and to reach out and say hi. For the record I have never mocked a visiting student’s accent. This whole fishbowl effect on display is not fun.

Thankfully, everything got better after lunch. That was actually true for most exchange students. The morning sucked, but things got better as the day went on. After lunch I had to go back to the drama dept. again for my Applied Theater prac.

I got lost like I did for my Voice tut, but this time I was alone. Once again I ended up passing back and forth in front of people who ultimately ended up being in the class. The good news is the was a very small and the people in it recognized me as that random white girl who showed up in their Drama 3 class today. A girl named Phiwo pointed me out immediately and welcomed me. The group all seemed to know each other really well but they were just as happy to talk to me as they were to talk to one another, which heartened me.

I connected most with a girl named Benita, who goes by Bens. She is a beautiful spirited blonde haired girl who lives at home and commutes to campus. Our shirts were the same shade of blue too #girlbonding. She gave me some insider tips and got me psyched up for the class.

The professor was semi late again, and made me feel awkward for introducing myself as a courtesy to her. Oh well. Awkwardness is always a fleeting feeling. We launched right into some icebreaker warm ups. We were each given a strip of black cloth – our tails – and told to attach them to our pants, flag football style. Next thing I knew I was running and stalking people I had met only moments before, trying to get their tails. I failed horribly but I participated whole heartedly and that’s what matters.

Reasons I love theater: Everyone looks stupid at the same time. The one trying to look cool often looks the dumbest.

Next the professor told us to grab a partner. Bens and I teamed up. One partner was told to tell a one minute story to the other about something interesting that happened over break. The other partner was only allowed to listen. Then the listening partner had to tell an interesting story about the weekend. Stories still fresh in our brains, we were then instructed to one by one to silently portray a significant part of our partner’s story. My over the top impression of Bens painting her nails and girl chatting (she had a slumber party over the weekend) was apparently an accurate representation and was very well received.

Soon the games were over and the class began an assessment of things that had happened at the end of last term, when I wasn’t here. Unlike other classes however, I didn’t feel as though I was being horribly left out. It was a great opportunity to learn more about what applied theater is. Plus we were in small groups so I got one on one time with a girl named Bantu and boy named Benji, who were delightful. Benji made a Mean Girls reference at some point that had Phiwo rolling on the floor in laughter haha. Aw theater kids how I’ve missed you.

 For those of you who are interested: Applied theater has to do with utilizing theater mechanics and backgrounds as a means of creatively facilitating activities in the real world community. This class, for example, went to a high school last semester and helped a classroom turn a novel into a short play performance. Acting out the elements of the play helps the students to give the text meaning and make connections to the real world. I actually see it as a type of community service. Pretty nifty right?

We were dismissed for the day and I left with a satisfied smile on my face. Soon after, Caitie and I reunited for some much needed first day venting and a trip to Under the Arch for some love from Sisa (learned how to spell his name finally). Mochaccinos in hand we headed to town to find some books we suddenly discovered we needed for classes. I had held off on getting notebooks until I knew what my professors expected of me. Turns out it didn’t really matter.

At dinner, people were in better spirits and happy to talk about their days even if we were nearly too tired to talk at all.

As a celebration of our very first day of classes (being over!) Caitie Gillian and I watched Crazy Stupid Love in Gillian’s room while sipping Honey Badger wine. Yes! You read that correctly. Honey Badger wine is a thing. At Pick n’ Pay (the local has everything store) I bought Kleenex, rooibos body wash, and Honey Badger wine. A strange assortment of things that I’m sure the cashier judged but….HONEY BADGER DON’T CARE!

Huzzah friends we did it! Immediately after the movie we disbanded to do…homework. I had to read an entire play in one night that was not found in the nearby bookstores. I went to the library which mercifully had it, but available on short loan. The librarian told me I could only take the book in one of two circumstances. 1: Read the book in the library for an hour. 2: Take the book out at 10 PM and return it before 9 AM. Why couldn’t the local bookstore just have it?!

Strange as it sounds it was good to be in classes and to be doing work again. I have this barely conscious urge to really prove myself while I’m here. To myself or to my professors or to all those gawky students who keep staring at me is yet to be determined. In the end…everything was alright

Thanks for reading, kids. Cheers!