skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Just down the road from Observatory, there is a Saturday market very similar to Madison's Farmer's Market near the capitol. I can't decide which one I like more though. The market in Madison mostly has food, juices, and snacks. Yet it is next to the state capitol building, which makes it remarkable. If you took away the location, I'm sure the Farmer's Market would be far less attractive.
I recently visited Cape Town's Old Biscuit Mill Market, which is set on the grounds of an old converted... biscuit mill, surprisingly enough. The goods that they have are far more varied than I was accustomed to. The essential produce, flowers, and popcorn were around. But beyond this there were stands of smoothies, quiches, cheeses, ostrich and lamb burgers, crepes, fancy beer, brats, dried South African meats (biltong and droewors), pastries, cupcakes, curry, and more. As a reminder, I love food and trying things, so I was getting more and more overwhelmed as I walked around and saw all my options. "I want everything!"
Seating space and vendors.
I'd eat it. I didn't though. :-(
The 'ol smoothie lady. That's just what we call her.
We had to decide on something though, so I put Anneli in charge. She chose for me a lamb burger with mild chili sauce, rocket lettuce, cucumber, and tsatsiki sauce (on a whole wheat bun, of course). It was delicious!
For my burger.
And yes, it was as good as it looks.
We also had one of the smoothies to top things off. After satisfying the urge to eat everything that I saw, we moved onto the other merchants. There was an art gallery, a bead store, a coffee micropress with loads of bean stockpiles, and an African themed store with shirts and crafts. I bought a shirt.
So many coffee beans!
The fact that this place is situated in a factory complex was really cool though, since all the different areas are more split up and intimate. There are businesses on the upper levels of the balconies, shops down below, and various sculptures and artwork decorating the walkways between buildings and shops. I preferred it being more separated and compartmentalized rather than a big open market in the street... especially since it allowed for permanent shops as well as tables from people that bring in their goods.
A fountain in the courtyard.
Anyway, the place was very neat and I wanted to share. I'm disappointed that I didn't know about it when Erik and Jana were here. If you come visit me though, I'll take you here. And for a much less exciting adventure than actually coming, visit their website. It's horrific, yet whimsical. Lastly, here are some more photos that I took:
Studying abroad is really overwhelming in some ways. Not in the personal ways of moving yourself, missing people and things, or dealing with money and that. Those things are true, of course, but it can also be overwhelming to find yourself in such an international context so suddenly.
What I mean is this—a new student to an area instantly tries to get a sense of where they are, how things are different, and how people are different. Not only are you presented with opportunities to interact with residents of the country, but you make friends with, live with, and become close to many international students at the same time. Meanwhile, you try not to make comparisons between things here and at home. Yet comparison is essential. We are translating currency amounts, measuring cups for cooking, temperatures, the meanings of words, perceptions of local issues and histories, explanations for global issues, and more. As this creature gets larger, out of nowhere, this person finds themselves sitting at a crossroads of different peoples and human difference in general, I think. At times just as a spectator, and other times as a participant. You're translating all the time in your head, and here we're both still speaking English!
I sometimes feel it would be easier to ignore all of this and become numb to the differences, but that seems like cheating and missing out. I often feel like I'm witnessing some of the most basic and common, and at the very same time intricate and complex, issues. It can small... like "How many times must we talk about my accent? Or Obama?" In this way, you learn to accept that you're a foreigner, people are interested, and you must be able to laugh about being American.
But take race, for instance. One can assume that in a country that has as horrible a history of racial oppression as South Africa, this concept would be quite important. And in a nation where apartheid was ridded, it is fascinating to still be confronted daily with its effects, and its legacy in a post-apartheid society. How people talk about it, how South Africans my age reflect on growing up, and how tensions still exist today. How they say that Cape Town is the city obsessed with race. These conversations may seem quieted at times, but it truly is like a silent noise within the city, something that doesn't go away and cannot be ignored. Or so it feels like to me.
And at other times, it simply explodes. Like headlines in the papers about "racist" polticians, or a recent Facebook group that was created to defame the new white, female premier of this province. It was instantly flooded by university age students, white and black, with thousands of terrible comments flying back and forth. Some were intelligent, but the vast majority were uninformed, juvenile name-calling and racist shouting. It was the vocalization of some of this silent noise that happens in this country surrounding race. And it is overwhelming!
Then my comparisons come in. I find myself looking for ways to draw parallels to the US. Of course we talk about race, and of course it is still an issue. African-Americans are historically and still disadvantaged in our country, and there still exist tons of debates surrounding racism, institutionalized oppression, and political policy as well. But, what if this is what race relations looked like in the US after the civil rights movement, or what some of the political conversations sounded like when the US was a young democracy? Unsure, developing, and somewhat fragile. More palpable. I don't know. This is where I kind of come to a stop, and say that I'm not entirely sure what I'm saying. And I admit that I've gone through this post several times trying to make things more cohesive and organized.
Maybe that's the point though. They often are not cohesive or organized. As a study abroad student, the longer you are here, the longer your mind tries to digest these things, and make sense of them. I'm not done, but rather feeling in this moment a little overwhelmed with doing so much internal translation, and feeling so often like a foreigner. That is also one of the points of this post, then. However, the spectator role allows you to start to see the truth of human nature, in an international and cross-cultural way.
There is also a bit of deception involved in understanding study abroad. Students aren't just visiting, they spend several months building lives in a different country. You seek out and build meaningful friendships that have trust, reciprocity, and some semblance of meaning. At least that's what I've been trying to do. You spend lots of time making your bedroom habitable, finding a social circle, and when things become manageable and comfortable... you pick up and disappear. Of course that is difficult. You literally leave a void, and people must even delete you from their cell phones.
My recently habitable bedroom.
This prospect is what has me feeling very uncomfortable right now. The fleeting and inevitable nature of this process has me weary of reaching out, and of getting attached to people. It is probably because I've never been very good at losing friends, in fact I am particularly bad at it. Especially when they've made an impact on me. Granted, this could all be avoided if I put less thought into things and just had fun... and I do this too, but it is not really my nature. I begin to ask myself "Why am I trying to build this friendship? I leave in a month."
I also don't like the idea of being part of the "study abroad cycle", where you know people that know you will leave. I'm often in contact with people that meet study abroad students a lot, or what I have dubbed the "student abroad machine". They know you won't be friends soon, and they're used to knowing Americans and watching them leave. I just don't want to be another person that comes and goes, I suppose. Oh well, perhaps I am.
Relaxing with friends at Breede River.
We met last week in the physics building on upper campus of UCT. The objective: to simulate a very deep dive (to a depth of 50 meters, or 165 feet "underwater") in the Research Dive Unit's decompression chamber. This would also simulate the effects of nitrogen narcosis, or what they call the "martini effect" or "laughing gas effect" when deep diving. More on that later. My regular diving buddies were also in attendance, ready to do a dive of a different sort this time. One where you didn't have to drive to Simonstown or spend large amounts of time filling cylinders and getting kitted up.
Now, this type of chamber is usually meant to treat people with decompression sickness, or "the bends". If someone surfaces too quickly, the compressed nitrogen in their cells can expand too quickly and cause big problems. A person is then placed back in the chamber to re-pressurize them.
It's safe... climb in.
I was a little worried before we got in. The old man, Paul, made sure we didn't bring anything into the chamber. The extreme pressure is such that even a fault in a diamond ring could cause it to implode or break at depth. I couldn't bring my camera with me, and to be safe took everything out of my pockets. He also said that the depths and time, although conservative, have caused problems for some people. The majority of the dives go fine, but the problems come from people that "aren't normal" and don't say they aren't. Like people that have had surgeries, don't like small spaces, or whatever else. But what an intimate and scary question... "Am I normal?" Will I die in this little pressurized tube? I tried not think about it. He also warned that you'll need to equalize your ears very frequently, because the pressure changes fast. The warning was simple: "equalize your ears before things get very bad, so that your ear drums don't burst." We were also provided with a rubber mallet to hit against inside of the chamber if there was a problem, and he spoke vaguely about firefighting equipment in case there was a fire. I was thinking about other things at that moment.
Getting ready to load in.
The inside of the chamber, through one of the little windows.
The space wasn't that large, as your can see in the photo. It was also pretty dark until small lights were turned on. Six of us climbed in, shuffling around, pressed against one another, as they shut and sealed the huge steel hatch door. They first lower you slowly to the first 10 meters, by pumping air inside the tank to pressurize it. This first stage goes more slowly, since most problems that people experience will happen during this time. Indeed, one in our group had a problem equalizing the pressure on her ears (similar to what you do when going through the mountains), and it was starting to get painful. So we surfaced, let her out, and went back down.
You can see me equalizing as we descend.
Typically when you dive, you equalize your ears every 20 seconds or so, as you descend to greater depths. We were pumped down to the full 50m/165ft over the course of only two minutes, so you need to equalize once per second or more. It is difficult to also breath air when going this quickly, because if you stop to take a deep breath you can feel the pressure building up on your ears. So I just kept blowing out of my ears and taking quick deep breaths every once and a while.
But, we made it to the bottom. This is where nitrogen narcosis comes in, or "being narced". It is where the nitrogen that builds up in your cells and your blood steam reaches your brain and releases endorphins. It makes divers feel drunk underwater, and can make them do silly things like swim off alone or think they can breathe without their regulators. It is controllable, though, since going up makes it go away and there is no hangover or after-effects. We immediately felt so drunk at the bottom that the slightest humorous thing had everyone in the chamber laughing uncontrollably. And at a depth of 165 feet, the air is so pressurized that everyone sounds like they are speaking through pure helium... voices are actually that high. Which is simply hilarious! Needless to say, we laughed a lot, and any anxiety that I had before was long gone.
Narced.
At the very bottom, the pressure is six times what it is at the surface. This also means that you breath 6 times the amount of air to fill your lungs to capacity. We stayed at 165 ft for about 10 minutes, and then ascended very slowly over the next half hour or so. To test the air compression concept, we blew up two condoms at the very bottom, and watched them grow larger and larger as we rose to the surface. By the time we got to the surface, the condoms weren't six times their original size, but a lot larger.
Safety stops were observed at 10 meters and 3 meters, I believe, to be sure we didn't ascend too quickly. Even though it is sort of cramped in there, you're supposed to make sure you don't cross your legs or anything, to aid in blood circulation. It gets sort of cold as you go up, also. I'm not sure why but mist began to form as the pressure decreased, and it got chilly. Luckily, I brought my winter hat and my UW Homecoming sweatband.
Emerging from the deep, like a gila monster!
We were told that decompression illness could still develop over the next few hours, and it would be prudent not to drink very much or take hot showers. Tempered by water, though, we went to the UCT graduate bar and had celebratory beers!
I've mentioned in previous posts that when it storms in Cape Town, they say it storms. Or for example, Steve said, "I promise you that when this weekend is over you can say I'm wrong if you haven't witnessed the most terrifying storm of your life." I love storms, by the way, so this naturally had me intrigued.
The news sites got a little out of hand, forecasting that this weekend would be a 50-year event. Those that were more cautious simply called it a 'beast' of a storm, but the general consensus was that we'd be witnessing winds of 60 mph and waves ranging between 20 and 30 feet high. You can imagine my glee.
Some friends arranged a storm chasing expedition (another thing I'm always keen for). Saturday morning was supposed to be real bad, and would linger throughout the day. Sunday, however would be the 'creature', 'beast', or 'monster'. Whichever animalistic term you prefer. We arranged the excursion for Saturday afternoon, driving in Steve's Toyota Prado.
The Chasers. Ready to rock.
The first stop was Sea Point, where the waves were vicious, and you could hardly stand in one spot from the wind. Much of our trip saw winds like this, but we managed to avoid the wild downpours that characterized the rest of the weekend. This was actually great though, since it allowed me to use my Nikon with less fear of it being totally ruined. You'll recall that my underwater camera was lost to the ocean. Here are some shots from Sea Point:
Tons of sea foam (not the color) blowing onto the walkway!
Rob was prepared. And loving it.
We moved on and also visited Hout Bay, Kalk Bay, Clifton (very top photo), and Camp's Bay. In terms of the trip, the waves were big, but not as big as they said they'd be. That may be because the brunt of the storm hit on Saturday morning when I was asleep, but that shouldn't matter... Sunday was the prize. However, absolutely nothing happened on Sunday. It just rained in the morning. Bummer.
Winding along the coast, in search of deadly hurricanes.
Although part of that is good, because certain parts of the city are really prone to flooding, especially the townships and other informal housing settlements. You figure that most of the houses are already not build to withstand the extreme weather, and in a huge, expansive area of paved roads and highly concentrated houses (both formal and informal), there is very little exposed soil that can absorb water. So the Cape Flats flood every year, which is very unfortunate, and requires disaster management in the area to be on alert for every big storm.
Housing near Hout Bay.
But you can't stop the storms, so one will still come. I'm yet to see "the most terrifying storm of my life", but it could still happen while I'm here. Perhaps when the next one hits I'll be in my rain coat with a mini-umbrella hat and a wind speedometer in my hand. I'll blog about it from the top of a mountain. By the way, we ended our trip with hot chocolate. I also got soup because I'm fat. Whatever.
Storm chasing is hard work.
On Friday afternoon, I was confronted at my mailbox by two package slips from the post office. Both had my name on them, which was odd because I was only expecting one, and with great anticipation I might add. I got home too late to pick them up, so was faced with waiting until Saturday to retrieve my gifts (one of which was still mysterious).
On Saturday afternoon, I headed out to the next suburb to pick them up. I was handed two bubble wrap packages, one from my boyfriend Matthew, and the other from the Wisconsin Alumni Association. I jogged home in the rain, eager to open them up. I first found a stack of photos that when pieced together formed a message from Matt. I thought I'd share:
It was very touching. If you're wondering where each of the photos were taken, here you go:
- The first is in my office at my (former) desk. Since I'm expected to return in some capacity, it hasn't changed much. You can see my Disney Rafiki doll in the background, and my calendars plastered across the wall. The cutout of my face was made by one of our staff members to represent me at the staff social. I thought it was creative, but maybe a tad creepy. (Good work, Carl)
- The second is at the Memorial Union Terrace, the huge patio/bar on the University of Wisconsin's campus, overlooking Lake Mendota. We sit here in the summer, drink, play games, and listen to live music. Truly sensational.
- The third is in front of Bascom Hall, our flagship building on campus. It is similar to Jameson Hall on UCT's campus. We have a large Abe Lincoln statue in front of it.
- Lastly, the sailboats in front of Lake Mendota on campus. Although I have no idea how, my roommate takes us out sailing in the summer.
Also in the photo envelope were pictures from WASB... basically my pride and joy of involvement on campus at home. It stands for the Wisconsin Alumni Student Board, and I'm missing them all a lot.
That was a neat surprise, to get a message from everyone. I'm missing my stripes! By the way, the guy on the very bottom is my Badger Buddy Andrew, or the WASB member that mentored me when I first joined. He's currently studying abroad in Buenos Aires, Argentina... which makes it even cooler that he sent a photo. I love you guys!
Back to the packages! WASB sent me a shirt from "All Campus Party", one of our main projects on campus (see below). I also received DVD's from Matt with the most recent ten episodes of The Office and Pushing Daisies season two. I'm all refilled on television distractions! As you can see, I'm a proud Badger!! And I'm missing my boyfriend, my fellow WASB's, my friends back home, and my alma mater.
While storm chasing yesterday!
The above picture was taken in the midst of intense, salty winds at Sea Point on the ocean yesterday. Some friends and I were storm chasing along the coast, checking out all the foam and violent waves. It was a good time for a reply. Perhaps a blog post on it later. Again, thanks guys. Peace!
I was sorting though my 5,000-some photos that I've now accumulated since January, and came across a few neat ones from around my neighborhood. So, I decided to share!
The first is a panorama that I took in February, of Arnold Street, right outside my front gate. You can actually see our front wall and gate on the far right of the photo. The "I ♥ Obs" campaign is something that the Neighborhood Association initiated, so you see the logo on lots of business storefronts, car bumpers, and street poles. For me, it just sort of reflects the uniqueness of Observatory. This includes the varied stretch of bars, restaurants, and shops on Lower Main Road, the mix of races, ages, and nationalities that you find all over the area and interacting (including the international students), as well as the jokes that can be tossed around about how sketch it can be, crime and all (not so much a joke, actually). Whatever. Despite these things, Obz is lekker.
Outside my house, on Arnold Street.
The next two photos were taken in late April. Friends from Mozambique and I were waiting to leave for a dinner and wine tasting in Stellenbosch, and another great sunset set in as dusk arrived. I like to call these the "cotton candy" sunsets, because both the blues and the pinks look like cotton candy flavors. Or the cotton candy flavored popsicles. So, the sunset was basically delicious.
Sunset on Lower Main Road.
Another shot from down further.
Lastly, I really feel like you should see the creepiest piece of graffiti in the city. There is a lot of graffiti in the Southern Suburbs of Cape Town (Obs and the other neighborhoods). Much of it is actually commissioned, and is put in community spaces like parks and building sides... it is quite neat. It has different themes, some of it is old, some newer. I don't know when this is from, or what the artist was thinking for that matter...
My creepy graffiti friend.
You'll also find criminals and other skellums (local word for shifty people) that write their names all over. Walls, street poles, sidewalks. It's called tagging, and I don't like it. Especially "Futsek", he's everywhere. I found this shifty, painted old man while walking to the dive shop one morning, as I was headed out to the ocean for the day. He was next to the train tracks, seemingly staring at people and trains that passed. Creep city...
Today, my countdown to Wisconsin was upped from 47 days to 55 days. My brother Erik recently landed an internship in Hamburg, Germany, so he and Jana will be moving there until August. Since I will be going through London in late June already, I've decided to spend a week with them while visiting Germany in the process. I've never been to Europe, and the convenience of adding another small flight to my itinerary was too good to pass up. After consulting with my brother, my travel agent, my boyfriend, my boss, and my sangoma, I've moved the flights!
I'll be getting home on July 1st.
This, however, presents a few logistical issues. First, my blog is called "Aukland in Africa." Can I blog about my trip home? I won't be in Africa. Also, does my adventure end when I leave Cape Town, or when I arrive in Chicago? Likewise, when should my countdown end? I've thought long and hard about these questions, and you can probably guess my decision since I have already changed my countdown. Despite the name of my blog, it is still intended to cover my time abroad, and Germany is still abroad. So you can expect some updates from the glorious land of beer and bratwurst. Well, that's Wisconsin, but I'll be sure to report on Germany also.
On a more personal note, I have had an earache for about six weeks now. I was ignoring it for quite a while, because it wasn't so bad. I'm sure that diving in Mozambique made it worse, but I thought it would go away. My right ear has now been hurting badly when I burp our hiccup, and is also more sensitive to pressure, to the point that I need to pop my ears and equalize the pressure just to get from upper campus to lower campus at UCT. Anyway, I went to the Student Wellness Center to have it looked at. The visit was free since I'm a student, and the nurse even prescribed me Amoxicillin, costing just over $1 for the five full days. Score!
My stomach has also been hurting lately, maybe I have some type of bug. For this, she recommended a probiotic. At first, I thought it would be counter-productive to be on an antibiotic and a probiotic, like putting a humidifier and a dehumidifier in the same room and just letting them battle it out, but I guess they will both help. Here's to feeling better.
Brought to you by Thebe Pharmaceuticals
It's weird being in a country where you aren't familiar with any of the medications. There are a few brands that are available from the US, but not many. For instance, I went into the pharmacy looking for Neosporin for a cut, and couldn't find it. After going to the pharmacist, the had no idea what I was talking about, and actually looked at me like I could be a terrorist. I threw words around like "ointment" "salve" and "antibacterial". Eventually a light turned on, and they grabbed me a tube of Bactroban. However, they needed my name, address, and phone number before it could be sold. I'm still not sure why. Pills are usually not coated, and I'm taking Compral and Paracetamol for headaches lately (they taste disgusting). I just love Advil, including the taste!
I was really happy with the medical care though, she was knowledgeable and I had no problems. Another study abroad student jammed her finger a few months ago, it was crooked, so she went to the doctor. His response was, "Not everybody is perfect, darling." She was appalled and went to another doctor, only to get a less than satisfactory solution this time. Another guy went to the doctor and was prescribed too many medications, ones that he would need to buy at their "in-house" pharmacy. This included some pills that would help his body handle all the others. Sounds a bit suspect to me. These are generally the private clinics though, the public hospitals and doctors here are phenomenal, I hear.
Unfortunately for me, my night dive was cancelled for the second week in a row. Very unfortunately. This might actually be a good thing for my ear, but it's a bad thing for my adventure-seeking and desire to get out of the house. Last week, the weather was too poor, and this week we didn't have enough people available because of classes. In its place, though, I've been promised a wreck dive this Sunday. Provided that it isn't cancelled, I'm excited see a shipwreck and to tell stories about it.
From my living room, wearing my British Airways blanket and having just finished watching Anoop and 'Lil get voted off of American Idol, I bid you adieu.
I'll leave you with an amusing series of photos of my friend Jamie from our trip to his house in Breede River, where we had a great weekend of debauchery. Highlights included amazing sunsets, traditional South African potjie (said poykie), the largest spider I've ever seen outside of a cage, and watching Jamie and Cartsen get sprayed with fire extinguishers. If you'd like to see an album of the photos, click on Jamie.
Jamie is silly. Click him to see our Breede River photos.
One of the best ways to learn the ins and outs of a political climate is to watch a local comedian talk about it. I did that this weekend, when Steve and I attended the show "Elections and Erections". It is a one man show, sort of, put on by Pieter Dirk-Uys, a legend in South African comedy. He reminds me very much of Eddie Izzard, and has been providing political satire comedy for decades, even before apartheid ended.
His alter ego is Evita Bezuidenhout. She's a well known Afrikaans woman that has lots to say about leaders and events. Pieter also does impressions of other people, including former presidents PW Botha, Kaglema Motlanthe, Nelson Mandela, and Thabo Mbeki (through a dummy). He also did a great Hillary impression. Below Evita is pictured with the new South African president, Jacob Zuma (risky business!). Of course, Zuma has a shower above his head to represent his famous comments about taking a shower after having sex with an HIV positive woman to reduce the likelihood of transmission.
Evita with Jacob Zuma.
It was definitely a crash course of the less obvious parts of the national narrative, but I was hanging on and understood most jokes. Steve said that I'm the only American he would bring to the show, which I'll take as a great compliment. My favorite part came when Pieter, without any impersonations, did a monologue about what it was like to live under apartheid in the 1960s. He described when he became a Democrat, no longer supporting the apartheid-promoting National Party, after having a sexual encounter with someone he legally could not: a coloured man. Except it wasn't only illegal because he was gay, obviously they both would have been in quite a bit of trouble just because they were of different races. He described the fear of living, and the fear of connecting with others.
Despite the widespread cynicism about the new president and the politics that it will usher in, he had quite a craft at making light of things and reminding people about the lighter side of politics. He must have... his show was sold out for a whole month. In the end though, I take a bit of comfort knowing that Zuma won't be my president. After feeling utterly marginalized and left out of the political discourse in the US, and worried for too long at how bad things were going to get, it feels good to know that I'll be going home to an Obama administration soon.
I found this drawn on a concrete wall, beneath a railway bridge here in Observatory:
The past few weeks in Cape Town have ushered in a distinct autumn, and now winter has begun to rear its ugly head. Winter here is characterized by chilly temperatures and lots of wind and rain. The rain is probably the most notable, since it isn't uncommon for rainstorms to go on for several days in the months of June and July. We haven't gotten a ton of rain, but it is raining more often and the temperatures have cooled down. Think late October in WI. And although this is no Wisconsin winter, it might as well be in some cases.
When it is -10ºF at home, my bedroom is usually around 55-60º when I wake up, and I hate it. I despise waking up cold. In Cape Town right now, it may be 55º or 60º outside in the morning, but in a house that is build with no heat or insulation, and windows that are meant to keep out burglars and not drafts of air, I wake up to the same temperatures in my bedroom as I do at home. Or better yet, I get very cold at night and then wrap myself up more, only to wake up in a cold sweat. I've been trying different things recently, like layering and cocooning in a sleeping bag, which seems to help some.
The weather can be very unpredictable though, so it is a challenge to dress in the morning. Not only am I guessing what it will be outside in the sun and the shade, but guessing what the temperature will be on campus, up on the mountain, with a healthy Cape Town wind thrown in. And I usually bring my rain jacket with, because being caught in rain isn't fun and this city has a tendency to quickly destroy anything resembling an umbrella with a gust.
Panorama of UCT's Upper Campus.
Our swimming pool has shifted from a backyard paradise to an unhealthy, swampy emerald green color. We don't swim in it anymore, obviously, but our maintenance friend likes to still run the filter and add chemicals (maybe for fun, or to save it from ultimate chemical collapse), but we're still paying for the pool electricity and it is unnerving.
Swampy pool.
Life goes on though, as UCT students are now back into the swing of things after their respective Easter vacations. Things are wrapping up at school, and IAPO (department for international students) sent out an email warning students to stay vigilant about crime as they get more used to the city and their surroundings. Despite being more comfortable, crime is still a reality in the city. A few weeks ago, a girl from UW was robbed by two guys who put a knife to her neck on the other side of Obz for only a cell phone. And last weekend, two friends from my African Studies class were kidnapped in a minibus taxi and held for an hour while they withdrew hundreds of dollars from their bank accounts before letting them loose. I say this not to scare you guys or make it seem like I'm in danger, because I don't really think I am, I just don't want to paint an unreal picture of the city. I'm still loving it here, and I'm conscious of what could happen, but... it still happens. Despite that prospect, and what seems like more dreary weather, I am having more fun than ever, and we still have some nice days.
With 52 days left in my program, we've only got about three weeks of classes left. This will leave about a month of free time after classes end, and just a bit less after our final exams. I'm still looking for something to do when that free time arrives, but I have some ideas in mind. There are so many things I'd still like to do before leaving! It is actually approaching really quickly.
Travelling and spending money may prove more difficult now, though, since I have watched the exchange rate of my US Dollars to South African rands literally plummet over the last few weeks. I don't even like checking it anymore, because yesterday it reached a six month low. Ultimately, this just means that everything in the country costs me more for me than it did before. And it's dangerous because I'm used to thinking in my head "Okay, this is R300, which is just under $30." The "ten factor" works quite well and I've been spoiled. It is costing me almost $36 in reality, though. That's like 20% more! Poor me.
Exchange Rate: Down... Down... Down.
As I get closer to coming home, I'm also having a harder time controlling my cravings for things at home. I'll cut to the chase: The first person to meet me at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago with a carnitas Chipotle burrito in hand will be on my A-list forever. Specifically: burrito, extra rice, extra black beans, Carnitas pork, corn salsa, cheese, and sour cream. Ohhhh, why did I just write that? It sounds so good. I did just fine ignoring this before, but the prospect of eating this in two months is a very tempting prospect. I'm also missing my boyfriend more than ever, and am excited to see my Matthew in a short time. It is particularly difficult since, for the last two winters in Madison, I have had him to warm me up most of the time when I'm cold in the mornings.
Next week I will be continuing my advanced diving certification, this time with a Night Dive at Long Beach on Wednesday. Here's hoping that it isn't freezing, that I will have a flashlight when I'm underwater in the dark, and that I see something cool if I see anything at all. Also, no panic attacks. :-)
