“People simply reacted to my presence, which communicated neither aggression nor sympathy, neither desire for fraternization nor challenge.”
A travel blog to document a liberal arts student's journey in South Africa. Future countries to be determined.
Friday, 2 August 2013
That Moment Everything You Read or See Reflects Your Immediate Life
Today
I was reading from a book assigned for my Drama course. The author Eugenio
Barba, spoke of his experience of living in Norway. When he was seventeen he
left Italy and worked as a welder’s apprentice in Norway, where he did not know
the language. What he says in his book, The
Paper Canoe relates closely to the shared feelings of the international
students with me at Rhodes:
Monday, 29 July 2013
Drinking on a Monday
Trying New Things - A Tale of Two.... Foreign Hot Beverages
Today marked the beginning of my second academic week at
Rhodes. More confident of my class locations and armed with a higher level of
comfort with being the new kid a headed out for the day.
My current schedule consists of Drama 3, Drama 2, and
History 2 (audited). I waffled back and forth on whether or not to continue
with History 2. I don’t need the class and I’m not positive I could even get
credit for it, but without it my schedule is a little barren and I don’t wanna
miss an opportunity to learn more about where I am. History 2 focuses on South
African history exclusively. It feels a little bit like elementary school Social
Studies. Remember how you would learn the same snippet of American history
every year? I’m sure that’s how my native peers feel about the course. Anyway,
the profs are super chill about letting people sit in on lectures. Lectures are
only 45 minutes long so why not get my free daily dose of history? It’ll be my
page/fact a day rip off calendar. It’ll add some relief to my Drama, too.
As my schedule stands I have about an hour between Drama 2
and my Voice Tut. As it was a particularly chilly morning, Gillian and I went
to Under the Arch for some hot beverage love. I took a chance and ordered a
drink called Horlicks. Sounds appetizing right? It’s basically a malted
beverage. It has a little bit of substance to it so it’s warming and filling…but
it tastes like………I guess……if I had to say………………… wet bread.

Gillian got hot chocolate. Clevah girl.

Classes were semi uneventful. We barked in Voice Tut and in
Applied Theater I got to hear 7 South Africans describe their perception of
Alabama in 1922. That was fairly illuminating. Some of their assumptions were
not entirely incorrect.
After all my classes were finished for the day I went to the
gym for the first time. Boy was it crowded. The facility is smaller than I’m
used to to begin with, but the place was packed. Every one of the 9 treadmills
was taken so I went upstairs and the only cardio machines that were open were
broken, hence their availability. Eventually I got hold of a treadmill. (I did
terrible unmentionable things to get it) There is a 20 min max on any machine.
I made the most of it and people watched while blasting Walk the Moon on my
iPod. There were a lot of guys who had disproportionately large arms…how do
they get through doors…?
The second strange drink I had today was called Milo. Some
lovely girls from Beit House invited me to their room after my House Meeting to
have coffee. Roxanne, offered me coffee, tea, and Milo. Of course I chose Milo –
which turned out to be the delicious instant bastard child of hot chocolate and
Ovaltine. Apparently a Nestle product.

Can’t tell you how nice it was to be invited to a small gathering
with actual Rhodes students. Thank you, guys, for your hospitality, kindness,
and laughter.
A little kindness to a stranger goes a long long way.
Sunday, 28 July 2013
Township Tour
Saturday morning, we rose bright and early to go on the
Township Tour that had been arranged for those who were interested.
Prospective exchange
Rhodents: It’s R400. Do it.
We met at the clock tower and I forced everyone to take a
family photo:
| good job guys...so proud <3 |
We then all climbed into a shuttle bus operated by Pretumsa
(pronounced: Preh-toom-za. Sp?). Our tour guide was Mbuleli Mpokela. A sweet
sweet sweet Xhosa man, who has lived in Grahamstown his whole life.
He took us first up to the monument to give us an overview
of the monument and the township. He was a little hard to understand and
rambled on about disjointed anecdotes rather than gave actual statistics or
historical information. He is clearly very knowledgeable about the area but in
an informal oral tradition kind of way. I would love to have dinner with him
and just let him tell stories but I wouldn’t quote him for a history report, if
that makes any sense. I’ll have to buy a book on Grahamstown I think.
| Mbuleli our fearless tour guide |
| Everything the light touches, Simba, will soon be yours. |
![]() |
| Photo cred: Nicola (Front to back, left to right) 1.Megan, Sean, Jennah, 2. John, Jake, Sean, 3. Becca, Some Chick, Nora, 4. Katie, Mary (not shown, my dumb head is in the way), Gillian, Caitie |
Next he took us up into the township. We drove past a
farmers market that I will have to check out next Saturday. We climbed and
wobbled up into the hills past the physical town, pausing for cows along the
way. They were so close to the bus!! Throughout the tour we saw dozens of free
roaming cows, dogs, goats, and donkeys. Mbuleli “joked” that the animals in the
township have more rights than the people. For the next time you are driving
around the Grahamstown township, which, let’s face it, could be any day now, remember:
cows have right of way.
We were told not to take pictures of people during the tour.
A lot of people waved at us from their yards like we were a parade float. Most
stared at us, not smiling, not waving as we passed. I actually found this “no
pictures of people” rule a lot harder than I would have thought. The people we
passed we so beautiful and helped me gain a strong feeling of what day to day
life must be like in the hills above the town. The “no pictures of people” rule
helped restrain me from daring to assume I knew anything about what these
people experience on a day to day basis.
Particular things I remember
- There was trash everywhere
- There were a lot of churches. They had really specific hours and regulations for who could attend what service and when
- There was tons of bright laundry flapping in the breeze
- Lots of barbed wire and security
- Washing machines were outside the house
- Mbuleli mentioned there was a 60% unemployment rate in the township
- Mbuleli greeted everyone with a huge smile
Next we climbed higher into the township to a high
employment area. The houses here were bigger and more individualized. In the
lower part of the township, people live in the standard houses issued and built
by the government. They looked like oversized bricks with doors, painted every
color of the rainbow.
In this part of the township there is a community garden, a
sports/recreation center in progress, and an artist’s initiative called Egazini.
The space, a former Apartheid riot police center, was reclaimed around the turn
of the century and turned into a “space which reflects the exciting new South
African history and experience, echoing ‘voices’ that are committed to
reconciliation and nation-building.” We were greeted by one of the artists and
invited to look throughout the gallery and the workshop. He clearly loves the
work he does and I felt so fortunate to see the place that allows him to
embrace his passion and talent. I bought a lot of the art haha. 85% of the
proceeds benefit the artist. 15% goes to sustaining Egazini. Most likely
visiting again before I leave.
The final part of the tour included a traditional Xhosa meal
at Mama Dukes house. (I don’t know how to spell her name, but that’s how
Mbuleli shortened it) But I mean just look at her:
She's perfect in every way oh my God. We saw her come out of her house as we pulled up and we just knew she was wonderful. She greeted each of us with a handshake and smile.
She didn’t speak any English to us, but she welcomed us into
her beautiful home and cooked an amazing meal for us. There was lamb, some
amazing bread dumplings, a powdery rice like substance that you mixed with sour
milk to make a kind of paste…., a spinach goulash (delish!) of sorts, and some
white beans.
I didn’t understand
any of the names of the dishes because they all had Xhosa names. I wish Mbuleli
had written them down for us. Regardless of their names everything was delicious
and we ran out far too quickly. (Still adjusting to portion sizes here…) The
meal ended with a piping hot cup of Rooibos, the best tea in the world.
| Papa Aidan at the head of the table |
| Delicious home cooked South African meal |
| Family dinner (Left to Right: Mary, Paul, Anna, John, Gillian, Nora) |
After the meal, she sang some Xhosa songs for us with her
children. I wish we could have stayed longer…or that it was a weekly visit.
We had been promised a trip to the orphanage to meet a whole
bunch of beautiful Xhosa children, but we had spent too much time at Egazini
and Mama Dukes. Plus I’m pretty sure Gillian would have baby snatched any
chance she got.
isiXhosa words of the day:
- Molo – Hello
- Molweni (pl) – Hello
- Unjani (oon-jawn-ee) – how are you? (Mbuleli forbid us from saying this to anyone because apparently if you ask someone from the township “How are you” he or she is gonna tell you haha)
- Enkosi (I heard it “en-go-za” but that could be totally wrong) – Thank you
Possibly reliable website for isiXhosa phrases: http://www.omniglot.com/language/phrases/xhosa.php
Overall, I was glad I went on the tour. I wouldn’t have
traded seeing Egazini or eating at Mama Dukes for anything in the world.
Walking around the township looking like a tourist on a people safari made me
really uncomfortable and exceedingly, obnoxiously privileged. A very humbling
experience to say the least.
Reflections on the First Week
Indeed I have survived the first week of classes. The title
of this post is misleading because, well I’m not sure how that I have concrete
reflections just yet. It feels as though I’ve been back at classes for a few
months now and as if I haven’t actually gone at all yet. I’m glad to see on
Facebook that some of my friends are preparing to head back to school (and for
an exciting few, their first time). That’s helping to get me out of summer
mode. Monday Numba 2 starts bright and early tomorrow. We’ll see if I feel like
less of a goober compared to last week.
A few highlights from the past couple days
Thursday July 25th 2013
My first class wasn’t until late morning so I took my sweet
ol’ time in the morning. *Please see previous post for the tiny bathtub saga
that started my day*
After my tiny tubbing I headed to the Drama department and
sipped on some delicious hot chocolate in the foyer of the theaters while
trying to journal about the previous days’ experience at Physical Theater Drama
3 (which I am now calling Physics). It was a nice lazy morning and I felt
myself becoming part of the scene rather than the spectator, though the foyer
does make for some spectacular people watching.
The rest of the day was uneventful, but in the evening,
Patrick, Gillian, Anna, and I went to a department production called Moor. It was an adaptation of
Shakespeare’s Othello mixed with the
writings of Malcolm X and Franz Fanon. It was fantastic to finally be able to
watch Physical Theater and see how it’s incorporated in the context of the play
to support the action and flavor it. Iago was played by a woman named Push, who
is delightful in person and formidable on stage. Othello spoke all of his lines
in isiXhosa. There was a lot going on for sure.
*In an effort to spare you all from (some) of my theater
ramblings, I have created an alternate blog for those sorts of reflections.
Feel free to take a look http://theatreflections.blogspot.com/*
Friday July 26th 2013
I had no classes! Gillian and I went to the Red Café for a
long glorious brunch. Caitie was supposed to join us, but poor Caitie has been
fighting off a miserable cold. Keep her in your thoughts <3
Travel tip: Be aggressive about keeping yourself
healthy. It’s easy to deny how you feel or not initially recognize it in lieu
of all the other changes you are experiencing.
People thinking of
going to Rhodes: LAYERS. The weather is unpredictable but the fluctuations in
the temperature can get you really sick really fast. Layer up and don’t get
caught in the cold. Non-potable water is no excuse for being poorly hydrated.
Anyway, we spent a really long time at the café. I had the
mini breakfast and some perfect chamomile tea (I’ve been feeling kind sick
myself. It did a lot to soothe my soul and throat). Nora and Mary joined later.
I’ve been loving the conversations I’ve been having with these girls. Everyone
here is so smart and well-rounded in a variety of different ways. It’s
beautiful and really inspiring. Shout out to my ladies, so glad I’ve met you!
The rest of the day was spent trying to decipher the strange
system of signing up for Societies at Rhodes.
Tip for future
Rhodents: There are tons of societies here (equivalent of “clubs”. Here they
only use the term “club” for sports) but don’t expect to find ANY helpful
information about them other than their names. You have to pay a fee for every
society (soc) you join.
The whole process involved a lot of walking and explaining
and walking and re-explaining and walking. Pretty much any encounter we had
trying to get to the bottom of how and where and when and how much and how to
sign up for society or a gym membership or a club consisted of explaining we
were exchange students who knew nothing, getting looked at like we should
inherently know everything already, then being told they weren’t the right
person to ask in a tone that made it clear they thought we were wasting their
time, then being told to go to a different building or a different person where
the process repeated all over again. It was jolly good fun.
By the end of the day I signed up for Winetasting, Habitat
for Humanity, SHARC (an HIV/AIDS awareness group), and Photosoc (the
photography society). I also now know where the gym is and the hours for the
pool. Not a total waste but not a simple process either.
On the way back to my res, Nora and I ran into Paul who was
headed into town. We ended up walking with him and wandering around a store
called Mr. DVD. Nora and I spent an inordinate amount of time talking about the
available movies, surprisingly not available movies, and our Netflx withdrawal.
That evening I saw the second department production I was
required to see – Hanamitshi (sp?) –
The Thought Fox. It was a mostly wordless, though not silent (the live music
was pretty great), show. I’m still a bit confused by it but it involved some
Cirque du Soleil like style and clowning mixed with Anime and the absurd.
Again, you’re welcome for sparing you extreme detail http://theatreflections.blogspot.com/
^^^ I haven’t actually reviewed it in that blog yet but stay tuned
^^^ I haven’t actually reviewed it in that blog yet but stay tuned
After the show Anna, Paul, Patrick and I played pool in
Patrick’s res. The balls were unusually small but that could have been a side
effect of it being an arcade style table. Paul and Patrick beat us – barely :P.
Highlight of the game, Anna kept humming a tune that I thought was from a
ballet or opera, which turned out to actually be that Shaggy song. Hearing her
sing “Wasn’t Me!” in her perfect little French accent made my heart so stinkin
happy!
Gillian and Caitie arrived a bit later and we went to a
party that was happening in Jake’s res. His warden had celebrated him the night
before for selling 30 tickets to the party. Exchange students take yet another
situation by storm. We come, we eat, we leave. Jake’s res is actually pretty
cool. I can’t get over how different each of these resses are from one another
and how each in turn is still so different from dorms at home.
The rest of the night was spent at the Rat just dancing.
Friday nights here are very crowded. After a week of seeing the streets of
Grahamstown deserted I was blown away by the amounts of people suddenly filling
the area.
Highlight of the night: Caitie Patrick and I took a chance
on trying the street vended sausage and onions. Some people call the vendors
sausage mamas, but I’ve gotten a general sense that that term is slightly
derogatory? Other people say Mama Pam’s. Barring any eventual food-poisoning I
may encounter as a result of eating street vended meat, I can easily say that
my sandwich was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted! Any money
left over from the Red Café will be squandered on behalf of Mama Pam.
Also: Slowly but surely I am making friends. I officially met two
whole people in my res. Woo. Watch out.
Thursday, 25 July 2013
Rub a Dub Yay Communal Bathrooms
Today I had the longest most awkward non-cleansing shower of
my life. My first class wasn’t until late morning today so I woke up late and
headed for the bathroom. In my res, the bathroom nearest my room has one room
for a toilet, one room for a sink and a shower stall, and two separate rooms
with a bath tub in each. My preference, for those of you who care, is the
shower stall. Said shower stall was otherwise occupied when I needed it and I had
to resort to one of the bathtubs.
The bathtubs have nothing at all around them. No shower
curtain. Just wide open air and cold hard tile. The faucet has a hand held
spray nozzle but no place to hook it on the wall. Any part of your body that is
not actively under the spray of water (about 98% of your body) is completely
freezing. I tried lying in the tub but it’s so narrow that it doesn’t accommodate
my wide child bearing hips. Great way to feel when you are naked and cold and
tired. Also when the tub filled, the water had a delightful brown tinge to it.
South African tub: 1 Rachel: 0
Anyway some updates.
Last night a bunch of us braved the cold night air to go to
a rugby game at the great field. Zach is a rugby player and was able to answer
our questions and help make the game make a little more sense. I know understand
that there is something called “scrumming” involved. That is the extent of my
knowledge J
Rhodes won!
We regrouped and went to a club called PRIME to celebrate.
The sterile white tile of the place was not unlike my bathroom experience this
morning and it was so crowded I had about the same amount of hip room. It was
fun though and we met a guy named Simon who kept introducing us as simply his “American
friends”.
We ended the night at Champs for some karaoke. That ish is
my jam! Sean and I did a lovely duet of Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours. Is this becoming a regular thing? Quite possibly.
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
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!
Orientation Week: Part 2
For those of you that have just joined us… nearly 30
international students have just decided to attend Karaoke Night at a local bar
in Grahamstown, South Africa. Let’s see how they’re doing.
Down the road from the Rat and the Parrot is a smaller,
dingier bar called Champs. A handful of us walk through the door and
immediately we are aware of how awkward we are. You know how in those older
movies a character walks into a particularly awkward situation, everyone in the
room stops what they are doing, the music stops and you hear that zipping sound
of the record skipping? That’s pretty much exactly what happened haha but we
just kept on going.
There wasn’t anywhere to sit and everyone was still watching
to see what we would do next. Champs is darker and more smoke filled than The
Rat and the Parrot and on this particular night, there were much fewer people.
Apparently karaoke doesn’t start until 9… Well no turning back now...
We killed time at the bar just talking and getting to know
each other. Any gaps in my recollection of what we have been doing with our
time so far can probably be accounted for by hours of fantastic conversations
with some really spectacular people. In this particular gap I spoke with Paul
and Anne-Laure (Anna) – exchange students from France. They study together at
Albert le Grand and are quite possibly some of the most casually awesome people
I have ever met. It’s curious that even though we are all technically
foreigners here we still approach non-Americans as if they are the
internationals. We have several students here from Germany and one from the
Netherlands. I personally think that they stand out less than we (the Americans) do. We spend hours just asking semi-ignorant questions about culture
differences. We’re such a curious bunch. The overall consensus is that the
world is confusing and awesome. Go see it!
At some point I hopped over down the bar, where Jake and
Zach are huddled together talking. Jake as I said before is from near my
hometown in Pennsylvania. Zach goes to school at Willamette on the complete
other side of the country. They never knew each other before this trip, and let
me tell you, these kids became Insta Bros. They are best friends on this trip
and it is a source of endless amusement to me. Completely awesome guys. So glad
I’ve met them. I keep calling them Jach and Zake by mistach (see what I did there?). Really I should
just call them Burt and Ernie J
Eventually the karaoke gets started, the bar is more crowded
and the energy of everyone there is at an all-time high. In the back left corner
of Champs is a small stage with a DJ set up, a flat screen karaoke monitor,
fringed with strands of fuchsia twinkle lights. The first couple of performers
are locals and, dude, they were GOOOOOOD. A list of available songs came our
way and we seized it! Nothing but seven pages of alphabetized American pop songs.
We joked about which ones we should do, thinking that we probably wouldn’t end
up on the stage, but then two girls from our international group got up on
stage to sing Bohemian Rhapsody. Other people from our group sang Diamonds.
Patrick gave a spectacular performance, complete with tasteful stripping during
awkwardly long instrumental breaks. Zach sang Pretty Fly for a White Guy and he
was indeed…pretty fly.
My friends and I had wanted to do a Fun song, but someone
else did it before we could. Pffft whatever. Over it. We decide to grace the
Wednesday night bar goers of Grahamstown with a loud rendition of Call Me Maybe
by the ever talented glorious Carly Rae Jepsen. (Please Hold Applause)
A few minutes after submitting our song to the very nice DJ,
about 18 of us mounted the stage to sing (shriek) Call Me Maybe. Caitie and I
pulled out our lyrical dancing skills. A video of us is, I am certain, floating
around the South African YouTubes as we speak. No regrets!
It had gotten late by the time we finally got to sing our
song. Our voices were destroyed and we were ready for bed. A few people stayed
on at Champs, but Caitie, Gillian, and I headed back to campus ready for bed.
Of course, yet again we stayed up forever talking, completely dashing any
thoughts of a good night sleep.
When I decided I really should go to bed, of course I skyped
my wonderful handsome boyfriend well into the night. Do you say goodnight,
sweet dreams when only one of you is going to bed and the other is getting
ready for dinner?
All in all, a spectacular night. I can now cross karaoke in
South Africa off my bucket list.
Thursday July 18th
This day of orientation week was reserved for departmental
visits. Basically, if you told Aidan or Helen you were interested in a class
you were meant to go visit the department to get some info and get a
registration slip signed.
I came here with the intention of only taking Drama classes,
but I had heard about so many great courses while talking with other students
that I started getting interested in courses other than drama. We are a very
well rounded group. Some are interested in communications, journalism, and
business. Others are all about psychology. A couple people are taking botany
and zoology to fulfill their home institutions’ science requirement. Zoology
courses go on field trips. Casual. A large group of people are very interested
in history. The more I heard them talk about it the more I wanted to take it. Maybe I'll audit everything. What could possibly go wrong.
I went to the department meeting with everyone to get a
better idea of exactly what history would be covered. In a large building that
surrounds the koi fountain behind the iconic clock tower of Rhodes, we met
Professor Gary Baines. A delightful (I’m assuming) well-learned man with a
South African accent and a groovy sweater. They offer some really cool history
courses here. I wish I had time to take them all! I think I’d be really curious
to learn world history through the lens of South Africa. I am currently signed
up for History 202, a course that focuses on South African history. Where better
to study it, eh? I may end up dropping it but for now it’s on my schedule.
After the meeting, some people scurried off to other
departments. I headed back to my room for some nappage and blogging. I didn’t
have any other departmental meetings scheduled until the following day. It was
nice to recharge for a bit.
Caitie returned from her disappointing meeting in the
Politics department. Apparently they don’t offer the one class she has to take during this semester. Shame.
(Just to clarify: In South Africa, people say “shame” to genuinely indicate
they empathize with an unfortunate situation. I’m not a jerk geez, guys)
We both had some questions for Aidan so after lunch we
ventured to the international offices to consult with him. While we were there
a MASSIVE thunderstorm rolled up out of nowhere. You really can’t predict what
the weather will do here. Aidan joked early this week in his posh Pretoria
accent that “We don’t really have a climate here. We have weather”
Next Caitie and I braved the weather for Under the Arch
coffee. Y’all don’t understand. Even if there was a hurricadonamieruption I
would try and make it to Under the Arch. (Exaggeration?) The surrounding area
was a bit deserted in lieu of the approaching ominous clouds, but Seesa (I
don’t know how to spell his name sorry! That’s how it sounds) was happy to see
us! He was playing music and looked pleased to have company. While he poured
our mochaccinos, he told us about a Barista Championship in Port Elizabeth for
which he was preparing. I had no idea there were such things and was thinking
it must regional thing when he pulled out a barista magazine as if it were a
Sports Illustrated to show us more about the competition. He’s been doing them
for a couple years now and wants to be a judge next year. He even pulled out
his blackberry to show us a video of his performance last year. The things you
learn when you talk to the guy who makes your coffee. Thanks Seesa!
Thursday night is supposed to be Girls Night at the Rat.
While everyone was getting gussied up for that, Caitie, Gillian and I decided we
were far too tired and settled in for a long night of talking and bonding.
Turns out Girls Night doesn’t start until the school year does so we didn’t
even miss out on anything, not that I would have traded Thursday night for
anything in the world. By the end of the night we had a lot of really great
conversations with Becca, Meghan (from New York) and Danielle (from the
Netherlands). Topic of conversation centered around language. I am now horribly
aware of how much I say “like”. It’s a disease, people. The entire conversation
was really pretty fascinating. Sorry I keep going on about just talking with
people, but I have really gotten to know a lot of people here in a very short
time. I’m already thinking about how much I will miss everyone when we go home.
Friday July 19th
Another day was set aside for departmental visits. I started
my morning with Patrick, Gillian, and Anne-Laure at the Drama Department. It
was SO good to finally get a straight forward break down about what was and
wasn’t available to us. I was super intimidated, but the meeting also got me
psyched for the opportunities headed my way. We also scored complimentary
tickets to two drama dept. productions happening this weekend.
I turned in all my paperwork for classes to Aidan and went
back to my room for a congratulatory nap. A very long very needed nap.
That night we went out to dinner at a very Americanized
chain restaurant named spurs. We had eaten at the Kimberly dining hall every
day for orientation. Friday night was our night to get adventurous. I got a
peppamelt burger, which was like a cheeseburger with Cracker Barrel gravy on
it. Not exactly like how Momma used to make, but it was much needed regardless.
We finished off the night at the Rat and the Parrot. Highlight of the night: a guy
with a tongue ring came up behind me and said he could see my soul. It was a
very beautiful soul. Was I from Connecticut? Oh hey, Jesse McCartney…is that
the one state you can name? Good bye. Gotta love creepers J
It’s hard to believe that at that time the week before,
Caitie and I were sitting in the Philly airport anxiously speculating what our
trip would be like.
Saturday July 20th
Nothing to do all day!! We slept in so hard! It was
wonderful. Mary, Nora, Caitie, Gillian and I went into town for some brunch.
Must go place in Grahamstown? Red Café. It was such a hip hidden little
treasure. The café is upstairs on High Street with outside and indoor seating.
You can buy old used books and just look at the funky artwork while you wait
for your food. I got a breakfast tramezinni – kinda like a breakfast sandwich
on a giant English muffin but not quite – and some much needed coffee. Mary got
an iced coffee in milkshake form which was to die for.
Some major girl talking and shopping went on throughout the
rest of the day. I bought a book at an Antiquarian bookstore that featured the
biography of Cecil Rhodes (for whom Rhodes University is named)
It was a perfect relaxing day. Not so fun fact of
Grahamstown: Everything pretty much closes at one so people can go home and
watch sport. But I want to shop! Accommodate me and my neeeeeeeeeeeds!
That afternoon the skies opened up and exploded with a
massive thunderstorm and torrential down pour which of course we got stuck in.
We took refuge near the library waiting for it to clear up enough to run to
Kimberly Hall for one last dinner altogether because the next day we would be
moving into our allocated residence halls. Regular students will be returning
and our magical summer camp of an orientation will be over.
Sunday July 21st
I woke up to Gillian knocking on my door to go to breakfast.
Afterwards, I slowly packed up my room to move 10 yards to the right into my
new res Jameson. It was an exciting and sad day as we all moved across campus
from the people we had grown to know and love and rely on in this new country.
I like Jameson. I got lost a couple times trying to find my
way out and trying to get back in but I’m getting better at it. Enough things are
different from things I liked in Oriel house that were already strangely
different from comforts of home that I feel even more out of place than I did
when I first arrived the week before, but I’m adjusting. My warden and
subwardens are nice, if a bit strict in my opinion. Everyone else seems to have
settled in okay.
| The view from my door |
| The view of my door. Love the mirror cubbies. I'll miss having a sink in my room too |
| Dying to know the story. I couldn't stop laughing when I saw this in my carpet |
Gillian was my first visitor in my new res and we sought out
Caitie for some in town essentials shopping. Not so fun fact of Grahamstown
repeated: People close down their shops after 1 to go watch sport. The only
thing open was Pick n’ Pay. People made fun of us as we perused the aisles,
mocking our accents and the like, but, whatever haters gonna hate.
The move had wiped us all out. We agreed on taking a nap
then reuniting to climb up to the nearby monument (‘cause that’s a restful
thing to do) Early evening we ascended the hill in the botanical gardens
towards the monument only to be met with a very pointy looking fence half way
up. We climbed back down and re-ascended on the road. Once we figured out the
correct way to go, the climb look no time and little to no effort (hahaha) at
all. We had a gorgeous view of the township with the sun setting to our left
and the moon rising to our right.
Pitchas!
| View of monument from the base of the hill in the bot garden |
| View of monument as we reached the summit |
| View of Grahamstown |
| Me at the top! |
| Gillian, Me, Caitie |
| Clearly the best jumping photo around |
| More of the monument atop the hill. The monument marks the success and struggles of the 1820 settlers |
| The moon on the hill |
| The sun on the other side |
| Funky graffiti on the monument |
| headed back down after a long day |
We ended the day with our first separated dinners, which was
a little sad. By the time dinner was over, all res’ could only be accessed by
the finger print scanner, which of course, Aidan, wonderful fella that he is,
didn’t register us for. Not wanting to risk being locked out all night, my
friends and I decided not to hang out together into the late evening, but
rather to get used to our new dorms and prepare for the first day of classes
that lurked only a few hours away. I went back to my room and tried to remember
how to be alone after a week of 24/7 human interaction.
Orientation week….fin
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