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:
“People simply reacted to my presence, which communicated neither aggression nor sympathy, neither desire for fraternization nor challenge.”

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.
Horlicks


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.
Milo - South African - Click Image to Close



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
  1. There was trash everywhere
  2. There were a lot of churches. They had really specific hours and regulations for who could attend what service and when
  3.  There was tons of bright laundry flapping in the breeze
  4.  Lots of barbed wire and security
  5. Washing machines were outside the house
  6.  Mbuleli mentioned there was a 60% unemployment rate in the township
  7.  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:
  1. Molo – Hello
  2. Molweni (pl) – Hello
  3. 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)
  4. 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

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