adrian is rad

Sitting on the bench, you’re waiting you turn. Your leg bounces up and down. You’re anxious, but that’s probably normal.

It’s nearly time. The instructor comes and helps fit your harness. The straps dig into your legs. But that’s probably also normal.

You walk out to the runway along the bumpy tar taxiway. The plane’s tiny. Single propeller with one seat inside, for the pilot. Everyone else gets inside, sitting on the floor. Two tandem pairs, including you and your instructor, plus a camera man. He’s there for the other person; you’re not paying for that shit. The plane lurches down the runway. It’s not going nearly fast enough to take off, you think, but it does, with a few meters to spare.

Ten minutes later, you’re still making wide spirals slowly upward. Now you’re nervous. The roll door is right there; the ground is way down there. You see Table Mountain and Robben Island. In the other direction, the coast stretches out; Langebaan and Paternosta are not far. It’s beautiful, today and always, you imagine. Breathtaking.

Five minutes left: you get briefed again on the procedure. Two minutes left and you’re clipped in. Sudden the door’s open. The camera man’s out. The first tandem is out. Your tandem slides to the door. The wind is so strong on your legs; your whole body is at an angle. Legs back, hands on harness, head back. And, remember, relax and smile, he said. You are calm now.

And then. And then. It’s nothing. But it’s not nothing. The air past your ears is loud. The ground shakes and climbs up toward you, ever more rapidly. And there’s the feeling in your chest, like your heart is huge, could pump a hundred times more blood if necessary. Maybe a thousand.

You turn around like a lazy susan. Your vision shakes. Trying to concentrate so you can see Table Mountain, the bay, the coast. You move your arms around to feel how the air hits them differently. You yell but the wind is the only one to hear it today.

The jerk upward and you’re vertical once more. (The straps cut into your legs quite hard now.) It’s so slow; it’s so quiet; it’s so still. You know how they’d describe it here: gently gently. Gently gently, you descend. Things become larger but you can hardly think. The landing is smooth. Your legs are unsteady as you stand.

But what are your legs supporting anyway? Just your stomach, chest and arms. Your head’s still in that bright blue sky.

Leopards? – Oom[1] Schalk Lourens said – Oh, yes, there are two varieties on this side of the Limpopo[2]. The chief difference between them is that the one kind of leopard has got a few more spots on it than the other kind. But when you meet a leopard in the veld[3], unexpectedly, you seldom trouble to count his spots to find what kind he belongs to. That is unnecessary. Because, whatever kind of leopard it is that you come across in this way, you only do one kind of running. And that is the fastest kind.

–The opening paragraph of “In the Withaak’s Shade”, Herman Charles Bosman

[1] literally “Uncle”, but often used as a form of address for older males.

[2] a river in north-eastern South Africa

[3] grassy plane

At the Pick N Pay at Canal Walk outside Cape Town.

This is a follow up to the last post. As I mentioned because there was a full day between leaving San Francisco and arriving in Cape Town, they are separate events in my mind.

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It was rainy and chilly and generally miserable that Wednesday morning when I landed a year ago. I’d like to say things quickly got better but they didn’t. It stayed rainy and cold and I stayed alone. But things got better gradually.

Living in South Africa, in Cape Town, was something I seriously considered—by which I mean, I told friends I was going to do—since 2004. Could it live up to five years of build up?

Cape Town, as expected, is a magnificent city. I may have thought the beauty of it would get old but every time I see Table Mountain and the peaks that surround it, I’m still a little stunned. There are many things I love about Cape Town: great food, generally nice people, cool things to do and people doing cool things, beautiful beaches, great and accessible surround areas, and good-enough weather.

A year on, I’ve made friends. I’ve covered much on the country on bike, on foot, by car, by plane or by boat. I’ve witnessed an amazing World Cup; I saw the US America’s best and possiblemost important game; I’ve gotten other people to start using “US America“. I’ve found my favorite bar and my favorite restaurant. I’ve become an informal tour guide for friends and friends-of-friends. I’ve become friends with my parents’ friends. I’ve hiked up the three major peaks in Cape Town. I’ve taken thousands of photos and tried to show what I’ve been experiencing to people back home. I’ve had to carry my water up the hill. I went to a wedding on a rugby field in rural Zimbabwe. I’ve flown with a handwritten boarding pass to a city that I wasn’t told we were going to. I rode a pony called POWER in Lesotho; I’ve named my car Super Force after a minibus taxi in the rural Free State.

I can answer two questions. Has it been what I expected? No. Has it been good? Yes.

I left San Francisco one year ago today, boarded that 777 headed toward London. I didn’t arrive here until two days later, so in my mind the two events have some separation. Today’s been a mix of emotions thinking about leaving.

Neither “Are you glad you moved to South Africa?” nor “Are you glad you left San Francisco?” have a simple or definitive answer but the latter, in many ways, is the easier to answer.

San Francisco is good for many people. They love everything (or most things) about it. And that’s great. I was never one of those people. That’s not to say I didn’t get good things out of living there—more education and great work experience, good friends, fun times—but I never felt remotely at home there. (And to feel like an outsider in SF I suppose says something about me.) Furthermore I felt living there made me progressively less like the person I want to be. It comes as a relief that I left, a weight off my shoulders.

Still, it’s not without regret that I look back on this day a year ago. I left good friends and a girl I was crazy about. I left a job I enjoyed and mostly found rewarding. I left one of the longest running activities of my life in college radio. I left a roommate I’d lived with for longer than anyone but my family; it will be 2017 before I could live with someone that long again. I left certainty about what I was going to do next.

There’s no conclusion to this; there’s no neat wrap-up. But that’s life, right?

I’m not quick on my feet. I know that. It’s one of the things I’ve learned as time has gone by.

But occasionally something comes to me with perfect timing.

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The set up: a little while ago, a friend of a friend is visiting from the States and she, a South African, and I are talking.

American girl, to South African: What do you call a hottie here?

Me, drawing hand down in front of face: Adrian.

Fin

I’m been trying to think of what to say about the World Cup now that it’s over.

In many ways that’s very similar to how I and many South Africans feel now: after a month of intense concentration on the World Cup and months of build up, we’re at a loss as to what to do now. We have to watch, talk about, and think about other things. But what else is there to talk about. The year’s biggest rugby competition isn’t providing enough distraction.

When people talk about the World Cup now, much of the energy is spent talking about the pride South Africans feel. South Africa hosted without major incident, visitors enjoyed the country, and the event went smoothly. The people that I’ve talked to are enormously proud of that.

There’s also talk of the gees—the spirit—that the World Cup brought. Many saw a united South Africa for the first time. For a month, people were just people and South Africa was, at least temporarily, that post-racial, post-class idealized society one dreams of.

But, in the end, South Africa is still a highly unequal society in economic terms and I don’t see how the newly found utopia can survive with such unfortunate realities. South Africa will always have the World Cup, though, and that view of what this country can be.

The Weltmeisterschaft is over for the Germans but the Copa Mundial is still going for the Spanish. Myself, I’m hoping for a triumphant Wereldkampioenschap for the Dutch. I don’t have a big reason for supporting the Oranje other than they had the common decency to beat Uruguay after that disappointed much of Africa by putting Ghana, who in a fair world would have won, out of the tournament.

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fans wearing orange before the Netherlands-Uruguay match

It seems that a lot of Cape Town and possibly South Africa is behind the Dutch as well. The easiest explanation is the shared language/ culture of a portion of the white population, but I’ve seen a lot of different people wearing orange, so maybe the explanation is a bit more complex.

Before that match I went down to the “Fan Walk” between the stadium and the Grand Parade, a large open area across from the old City Hall where a public viewing area has been set up. It was packed. Despite the fact that the stadium only holds 64,000, the City estimated that 149,000 participated in the Fan Walk with a further 200,000 in the City Bowl. And I found that the Grand Parade (the FanFest), with a capacity of 25,000, was full almost an hour and a half before the game.

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photo by milan daniels

A Dutch firm designed some awesome fan T-shirts.

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The Dutch are doing pretty well so far. I think they might take the cup. The answer of why they’re doing so well may be in this great long form NY Times piece about soccer development at Ajax (and other Dutch clubs) and contrasting that with how it’s done in the US. (Though, a lot of the European teams have similar development programs.)

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Sign seen on a minibus taxi in Sea Point:

FUCK FIFA

Yeah, there’s been some anti-FIFA sentiment. It could be that they’re so powerful that even decisions by national presidents can be effectively overturned by the organization.

Or it could be that they’re bringing in a boatload of money (while somehow maintaining untaxed status as a “non-profit”) while all that South Africa gets is a seratonin boost. And it seems that even that might not last.

Or it might be that despite clear evidence that their officiating isn’t making the right calls they’re only going to “look into” goal line technology and refuse to believe that any other technology (like offsides, other replays) is necessary.

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Despite the fact that Team USA is out of the cup and have been for a while there’s been a lot of speculation that the nation might be starting to like soccer. Well-known sportswriter Bill Simmons says he’s been hearing “soccer is taking off in America” since the 1978 World Cup but now he’s ready to believe them.

When Donovan scored that Cup-saving goal against those spineless playing-for-a-tie-when-they-needed-to-win-by-two-goals Algerians, the moment resonated like no other goal in American soccer history. We didn’t have anyone telling us how we should feel, what the implications were, what the moment meant. We knew what it meant. We wanted more games. We wanted our boys to keep playing. Someone scored. We celebrated. We jumped up and down. We ran around the room. We were alive for another game. For once in a fragmented sports world, we all happened to be rooting for the same thing.

…

Soccer is no longer taking off. It’s here. Those celebratory YouTube videos that started popping up in the 24 hours after Donovan’s goal — all unfolding the same way, with a stationary shot of nervous fans watching the game in a bar, going quiet for a couple of seconds during the American counterattack, reacting to Dempsey’s miss (”Nooooooooo!”), holding their breath for two beats (”Wait a second …”), exploding on Donovan’s finish (”Hi-yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”), then chanting “USA! USA! USA!” afterward — tapped into a collective American sports experience unlike anything since Lake Placid.

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There’s a cool book out called Amen by Jessica Hilltout about grassroots soccer throughout Africa. The NY Times is currently featuring some the her photos from the book.

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TwoShoes Design’s Soccer Crest

Umbro asked some local firms to design a new soccer crest. I like the results quite a bit, particularly the one by TwoShoes Design above. Msantsi (or Msansi sometimes) means “South” and is often used as a nickname for South Africa or South Africans.

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There have been plenty of foreign journalists in South Africa reporting on the WM. Many of the stories mention the helpfulness of South Africans or the relative lack of crime (170 cases for crimes by or against tourists).

A common refrain which I’ve heard is “Where are you from? What do you think of our country?”. I think more than anything South Africans want visitors to have a good experience here and go back with a positive experience of the country. I can relate to that: I’ve asked similar questions to the visitors I’ve met and I’ve tried to do my part giving them a positive experience in whatever small ways I can.

In A Different Time, by Peter Harris, one of the best books I’ve read recently

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Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela
I started this back in SF and I really wanted to finish it before I came here but things got really busy before I left. Mandela is one of the most inspiring figures of modern times. Everyone focuses on the post-prison Reconciler, but seeing the young, brash, successful Mandela is interesting, as is his reasoning behind various decisions in his life (like starting the military wing of the ANC). Though not faultless, it’s well told and I’d thoroughly recommend it.

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A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving
I flew through this book. It’s an addicting book and I had time on my hands. I saw the ending coming from miles off and the narrators political rants get old, but I still couldn’t put it down.

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The Plains of Camdeboo by Eve Palmer
A book about an area of the country that I love (but hadn’t seen at that stage), the Karoo. A mix of family and regional history, plus discussions of the plants, animals and fossils of the area, it wasn’t very interesting at a time—though parts of it came back to me during trips through the area—and unless you’re intensely interested in the area, I’d give it a skip.

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New Writing from Africa 2009, editted by JM Coetzee
The first book I bought in South Africa, it’s collection of new writing from Africa with 34 stories from 12 different countries. The quality is pretty hit-or-miss with the best being quite good but many boring stories are contained within as well. Read the prize winning stories in a book store and skip the rest, I’d say.

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One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey
As you probably know, this is a novel about a brash, subversive patient at a mental institution which has thus-far been run with an iron fist by the head nurse. It’s definitely worthwhile if you haven’t read it yet.

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Playing the Enemy by John Carlin
This is the book that got turned into the movie Invictus. It’s both better researched and better presented than the movie, with both more depth and breadth about the lead-up and triumph of the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa. Quite moving in the end.

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Chuck Klosterman IV by Chuck Klosterman
This is a series of essays in Klosterman’s trademark snide, often sidetracking style. I love Klosterman’s writing and I tore through this book which includes interviews, essays and general pop culture pronouncements. I might start with Killing Yourself to Live if you haven’t read anything by him, but if you like his writing already, you’ll like this.

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The Blind Side by Michael Lewis
Michael Lewis is a fantastic writer. I enjoyed Moneyball and various essays he’s written for the New Yorker or Vanity Fair and I enjoyed this story of the rise of the left tackle in football and the rise of one player, Michael Oher, through life. Even if you marginally enjoy football, you might like this.

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Previous Convictions by A.A. Gill
Various travel stories written by the highly sarcastic British writer. He can be funny but offensive, eg. “Do you think that when the Berlin Wall came down the East Germans were disappointed that there was just more Germany on the other side?” Overall, it was pretty good.

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In a Different Time by Peter Harris
Possibly the best book I’ve written this year. Harris was the defense attorney for many cases involving the ANC and this book chronicles the case of the Delmar Four, MK operatives who were tried for a series of crimes including assassination, bombing, etc. Very well told and very thought-provoking.

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Predictably Irrational by Dan Ariely
My dad gave me this book about behavior economics, as some call it. Basically, in various situations, people regularly act in ways that aren’t described by classical economics. Ariely has done a lot of studies about this and found fascinating things. (Eg make something FREE! and people go nuts, or people judge such things as value of items and attractiveness of people relatively rather than absolutely.) It’s not the sort of book I normally read, but I found it very interesting.

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An Anthropologist On Mars by Oliver Sacks
I really enjoyed Sacks’ Musicophilia so my parents got me this book (autographed, nogal!). It’s a series of case studies on a variety of neurological conditions and disorders. Sacks looks at the artist that perfectly replicates the village of his youth, which he hasn’t visited in 30 years. And the Tourettic surgeon and autistic professor. It’s more in depth about the neurology than Musicophilia which makes it a slower read but also more informative in some ways. I still liked it.

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The Girl on the Fridge by Etgar Keret
I just finished this book of short (often 2-4 pages) stories by this Israel author. He uses very concise writing in his often surreal stories; he can say a lot in two pages. A lot of it is set in modern Israel so there are some pretty heavy topics within. Overall, I really liked it.

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I recently joined Goodreads. You can see what I books I’ve read/ am reading and whether I like them there.

semi-time-lapsed USA-Algeria from ipickmynose on Vimeo.

I made a sort of time-lapsed video when I went to the thrilling USA-Algeria game. I took 30 seconds of video with my Flip every 15 minutes starting 1 hour 20 minutes before the match and ending right after the game ended. Then I put all the segments together and sped it up a bit (about 6X). It was all done hand-help so it’s not perfect.

Enjoy.

The SABC is broadcasting all 64 games in many different languages (at the very least: English, Afrikaans and four African languages, but I suspect five more). I love one of the English-language announcers. He speaks with a typically African accent but his enthusiasm is infectious.

One of my favorite moments was during the New Zealand-Slovakia game. In the 94th minute, Slovakia was up 1 – 0.

Then New Zealand scored. Imagine the following with an accent:

A cross… a CHANCE and…GOOOOOOAAALLL! WOW O WOW O WOW O WOW!!! THAT IS WHY THEY CALL IT THE BEAUTIFUL GAME!! THE GOAL THAT NEW ZEALAND ALWAYS HOPED AND DREAMED OF!

It may not be as polished as the imported-from-England announcers that most stations are using, but I love it.

USA 1-0 Algeria (Highlights)

If you missed the US America v Algeria game the other day, it was US soccer’s “most dramatic and important” win. I attended the game and was on the edge of my seat the entire time. My hands were shaking so much by the end of the game that I had a hard time writing an SMS. It seems that the other fans liked it as well, possibly because it very American.

I’ll write more later about my experiences going to that and the previous US game (US v Slovenia) later, but in just a few hours, the team plays again, this time against Ghana, the lone remaining African hope in the tournament. Some smart people put the odds at even for who will win. Though I’ve been rooting for African teams at every turn, my allegiances today will be with the US.

Go US America! Go Yanks!

I’m in Johannesburg now. Jo’burg, Joeys or Jozi.

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I came up to the high country to go to a couple US America soccer games. I went to the US-Slovenia game on Friday. Even though I had the cheapest class of tickets for the game at Ellis Park, somehow I had great seats. See my view above.

I think America should have won with a botched call from the ref disallowing the would-be winning goal. That said, I really had a good time at the game. The atmosphere and the game were exhilarating.

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I drove up through the Karoo, the semi-arid interior of the country. It’s a stark and beautiful area. It’s cold at the moment; the snow on the mountains marks the first time I’ve seen it in the country.

It’s a long drive, some fifteen and a half hours over two days. It’s easy to forget that South Africa is this big.

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I rode the brand new Gautrain yesterday just for fun. I like high speed rail. This never really had a chance to get up to full speed but it was still impressive.

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Today I watched the Slovakia-Paraguay at a fan park in Newtown (pronounced as if it was two words) and went to the top of the Carlton Centre, the tallest building in Africa (but not tallest structure). The tower used to be prime property but is now in a fairly rundown area; on the other hand, Newtown seems to be in the middle of revitalization.

source unknown

Apparently this is not a fake headline. I love it.

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The background here: a Dutch reporter’s interview with a fan in Soweto is interrupted by South Africa’s first (and the first overall) goal in the World Cup. The result is awesome.

A bit of a continuation of the last World Cup post.

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I don’t think I have to reiterate this, but I will: the entire existence of this country is the World Cup right now.

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In last Sunday’s church bulletin was a special World Cup prayer. I was a bit surprised that there was one. It was for the country, sportsmanship and fairness–things like that.

The most visible church between the city center and the stadium is a Catholic chapel that has been undergoing upgrades to the foundation. After being closed a year or more, it’s reopening this Sunday, June 13, the first Sunday during the World Cup. I’m sure this is not a coincidence.

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Wednesday was Vuvuzela Day. People were to blow their vuvuzelas at noon. I managed to go up onto the road-to-nowhere with the giant vuvuzela there. At noon they sounded it using compressed air, I think. It was pretty amazing. Between that and all the vuvuzelas on the streets below, it was a fantastic cacophony.

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There are tourists everywhere now. Everywhere.

The bad part is that whenever I open my mouth now people think I’m a tourist. Before people wouldn’t assume that but now that the World Cup is on, I’m a tourist again.

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A giant coke man was erected in Johannesburg. I was pretty jealous until I found that they’re making one at the Waterfront in Cape Town too (see above!).

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For the occasion I put together a a post on/ mix of great South African music. Go check it out. I’m happy with how it turned out.

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They’re showing some games in 3D. I think I’ll need to go to one of those.

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The Big Picture has a nice selection of photos of World Cup preparations.

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Look no further. This is the best World Cup calendar.

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moments after Tshabalala’s rocket

I walked into town yesterday to watch the game with some friends at a bar that, for whatever reason, the French Consulate was throwing a party at. On the way there people were cheering and yelling out of car and minibus taxi windows. I was greeted and smiled at randomly on the street, which is a rarity here.

The bar was a good atmosphere: lots of people cheering on their adopted country. There wasn’t much action in the first half other than South Africa’s goalkeeper making some great stops. When Tshabalala scored the first goal of the World Cup to put Bafana Bafana up 1-0 on Mexico. The room, already loud and raucous, became absolutely buoyant. It was not to be, however, as Mexico tied up after not too long.

Near the end of the match, there was devastation like earth opening up underneath us when Mphela’s breakaway ended in a shot off the post.

There’s always Wednesday, Bafana. There’s always Uruguay.

Parking near the stadium will be difficult during the World Cup, so my neighborhood, Green Point, adjacent to the stadium, was going to issue ‘residents parking discs’ so that the residents could park in the area without issue.

The latest: the discs won’t be ready until September. The World Cup starts in four days.

I’ve seen a lot of World Cup commercials, both in SA and then online from people sending them to me. Here are some of my favorites.

Easily my favorite is the Puma ‘Journey’ one, previously mentioned, shot on film and put to a soundtrack of Gnarles Barkley. Absolutely gorgeous:

I like the concept and idea behind BBC’s ‘Rainbow Nation’ commercial:

Nike has quite a well-produced but frantic commercial in ‘Write the Future’:

More after the jump.

(more…)

giant vuvazela recently erected on the road to nowhere

Newspapers, TV, and signs on the street have all been counting down to one day, June 11, the start of the World Cup. When I arrived, they proclaimed ‘310 days to go!’ I imagine they’ve been announcing the count down for longer than that. Now the number is eleven; just eleven more days.

Construction at ‘Hospital Bend’ is done; the new interchange is open. The new bus system started yesterday. The heavy blanket of construction that has covered the city for so long is lightening. But it’s not done, nor will it be soon. I don’t think the Koeberg interchange will ever be done. The passovers look like a toy city where a vengeful child took all the middles of the bridges out. Eleven days isn’t going to fix that.

Also under construction are two new pedestrian bridges over Buitengracht that may be open in time, but I’m sure they’re giving a construction manager sleepless nights.

The stadiums are ready. FIFA effectively owns them now. One in Pretoria acts as the home ground of a local and international rugby side; they had to play their ‘home’ semifinal and final in Soweto.

Most importantly, the people are ready. To say that almost seems ridiculous. Even using a cliche like ‘the sense of anticipation is palpable’ would be ridiculous. After all this build-up, after the hundreds of days of count-down, with South African flags adorning everything from houses to car side mirrors, with tickets in hand after standing in line for hours upon hours not to get a preferred game but to ‘just get something’, with every store selling merchandise or flags or gear, with the day of the first game apparently being declared a national holiday, the people are ready. The country seems ready to explode.

I just wonder what will happen when the number reaches zero.

I like this Puma World Cup related commercial. It’s very well made. It’s worth noting that Bafana Bafana doesn’t feature because they are outfitted by Adidas (while the other African World Cup teams are all Puma).

I enjoyed watching this try by a Zimbabwean-born American against South Africa, blowing past one of the fastest players in international rugby. It’s from the last rugby World Cup.

And I’ve seen lots of strange signs but this may be my favorite. So simply good!

I set my alarm (on my phone) for 9am on Sunday morning. After it went off, I lazied around bed for a few minutes, checking email and blogs. I looked at the clock on my computer to see it was 10:16am.

Android decided that I had a time change—back an hour, so it was an autumn time change—overnight despite the fact that South Africa doesn’t have time changes.

It was autumn so it knows I’m in the southern hemisphere, but my time zone is set to “South African Standard Time” so it knows I’m in SA. I’m not sure what’s going on.

Things I forgot to put in Thursday’s post.

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I’ve been making milkshakes. The most successful so far have been fresh mint + chocolate chunk, banana + nutella and banana + peanut butter. They have been well received by my flatmates. Mmmmmilkshaaaaakes.

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I’m going to Zimbabwe in a couple weeks for a couple days. It should be fun. It’s mostly for a family wedding near Harare but I’ll also spend a couple days in Victoria Falls.

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A good friend and his wife* will be here at the end of April for 10 days. I’m pretty excited about that. It’ll be great to see them and I like showing off Cape Town.

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*who I’m friends with as well.

Here are little snippets of what’s going on:

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I’ve been biking around some in the last few weeks. I mostly go to the pool or shopping or to other things that aren’t far but are far enough that I wouldn’t walk. My knee and rest of my body is mostly okay with it so far.

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I make it a habit of not talking about work here, but lecturing/ coaching is going just fine. There are some interesting possibilities for other work as well.

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I’ve had weird sleeping habits lately, going to bed later than I intend and waking up at my relatively early alarm and turning it off.

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I’ve played ultimate frisbee at UCT a few times; there’s a pick up game on Fridays. It’s good times. I’m still alright at it. Given that I haven’t really played regularly since 2002 or thereabouts (though I did play a few times in 2006), I’m surprised how confident I am. I realized it’s one of the few things when I perform better under pressure than otherwise.

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I took a tour of Cape Town Stadium on Tuesday. It was pretty cool. It’s a well-designed stadium. I think going to games in it will be a pleasure.

I’ll see next weekend as I’m going to see an Under 20 soccer tournament with Brazil vs Ghana and South Africa vs Nigeria with a few people. I’m looking forward to it.

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This is the first year in a number that I didn’t either give up something for Lent or avoid eating meat on Fridays during the forty days (or both). I guess with so much instability currently, I didn’t really feel it. I’ll get ‘em next year.

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It’s a four day weekend here. It doesn’t mean the same thing when I wasn’t going to work (in the traditional sense) on Friday or Monday anyway.

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I’ve started working on a memoir of my time at Boston Tech[1]. Progress has been slow. Very slow on some days, but others I’m inspired and write a fair amount. I’ve also thought of a book of stories from my travels, which would be fun.

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My new flat isn’t without its hiccups, but it’s generally working out well. We had a house warming a few weeks ago that went well; a good time was had by all.

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My favorite poster designer has a book out. I think I’ll get it. Jason’s stuff is great.

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I’m tempted to get this old school US jersey for when I go see the US in the World Cup in just over three months time.

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And finally. I went to a Stormers match last weekend. They’re a Super 14 team representing the Western Cape. They were playing against another SA club, the Cheetahs—the team my aunt roots for, as it turns out. Stormers won, so that was good and it was a fun experience overall.

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[1] I really want to make a shirt that says Boston Tech in the MIT font. Who’s with me?

I quite enjoyed Invictus, though it was a bit sentimental and sappy. I found the book better in the end.

The list of goofs in the movie is quite entertaining, though, particularly the level of detail of the errors noted.

• Factual errors: The rugby balls used in the Springboks matches are the current generic Gilbert Barbarian match balls with dark blue and green oval trims. The actual match balls used in 1995 World Cup were in fact grass green and sky blue and they all had a Rugby World Cup logo and the year 1995 printed on them. Also the kicking tee used by the All Blacks goal kicker in the film was a Gilbert Blue Tee; the actual kicking tee used by the player Andrew Mehrtens in the 1995 final was a yellow Simpkin Kicking Tee.

I’m sure many people were appalled by the latter inaccuracy.

It doesn’t seem so, at least. A low budget airline in South Africa advertized themselves as “the Unofficial Airline of You Know What” and FIFA contacted them to tell them they may not use a combination of images of stadiums, vuvuzelas and national flags and the words “South Africa”.

They then ran a very similar follow-up ad with all the symbols and offending words taken out.

I have a new blog. It’s called Secret Cape Town. Check it out if you’d like. I’m hoping it’ll help me learn even more cool places to go in the city.

I also have a twitter channel if you’re into such things.

It’s been hot here. Hot like I remember from Boston, from Pittsburgh. Drenched with sweat and skin melting off your skeleton hot. But the heat wave broke the last couple days, particularly with the rain today.

Last night I put ice cream between two Hob Nob milk chocolate digestives. It was incredible.

Some days I have no choice but come to the conclusion that I’m the smartest person alive.

I bought a bike this week. It’s road bike, a few years old. It runs well. I’m going to modify the set up a bit to make it more into an around-town bike, but I’m liking it so far.

(I’m definitely getting rid of the red bar tape.)

Two instances:

• A couple weeks ago, running late for lunch with the friend, I parked at the wrong restaurant, so went to get back into my car to drive to the right one. I got in the left front seat and looked for the steering wheel.
• A few days ago, distracted by a whole host of things, I made a left on red. That is not legal in South Africa.

Part 1: It’s raining on my plants. This wouldn’t be a problem if they weren’t in my room. My hats—I have a collection, six, hanging by my plants—are also getting wet. The carpets. But no electronics. That’s good. The hallway above was flooded by the cleaning lady. She is coming down to clean up the mess. No big damage.

Part 2: I took a minibus taxi for the first time in Cape Town today. (I’ve taken them in rural areas before.) They’re pretty easy: just flag one down, get on, pay the fare and then tell them where you want to get off. They usually have a two person team: the driver and the shouter. Well, I’ll call him the shouter—he shouts out the destination and also takes your fare. On the way back, the shouter’s line was “Cape Town! Waterfront! Table Mountain! 2010!@” I laughed at this along with some of the other passengers.

Odd things about watching the Super Bowl outside of the country:

• None of the commercials. Well, there were commercials but they were all EPSN’s own commercials about its programs. They repeated often—there are lots of commercial breaks during the Super Bowl—and got old quickly.
• The announcers for the ESPN International broadcast were different than the ones for the US (CBS?) broadcast. Big differences:
  • They referred to the sport as “American Football”.
  • They explained many more rules than the normal American broadcasts do, including ones that seem quite obvious to me. They also explained what a “slot receiver” was. Despite this they left unexplained many other football terms, guards “pulling”, names for routes, various penalties, and intricacies of various positions.

So that was strange. But it was a fun game! Go team!

Notes on my new room[1]:

1. My room is color coordinated. I mean, not ridiculously so, but things generally match. When did I start caring?[2]
2. Who doesn’t want a man cave? Unfortunately my room is closer to just a cave.

[1] I moved last week.

[2] Probably when I moved to SA and bought all my room things at the same time.

As far as I know, the only person to design multiple nation’s flags is Frederick Brownell who designed South Africa’s and Namibia’s.

I wanted to get a more local cap to be my go-to cap (my A’s hat, seen here, is my current go-to). Going through a thrift store I saw a rugby cap that had a good design and was pretty cheap, so I picked it up. Apparently I don’t know the teams very well because Waratahs are actually from Australia. Ooops!

Maybe I should just pick up a Western Province cap, like this one.

Update: Problem solved!

Still no updates on my trip(s), but I did post a lot about the road trip on my photo blog. You can start from the end and check it out if you’d like.

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I’m not very good with uncertainty. I know, this is a surprising admission. But if an obsessively clean person can be cured by touching lots of pay phones and door knobs and toilet handles, then maybe I can be cured by having as many things as possible be uncertain. I’m moving this weekend (for which I don’t have movers yet) and I’ll have new flatmates and a new area of town. I started lecturing last week and it’s too early to tell how that’s going to turn out. I don’t really have a way to cover the rest of my living expenses. I’m not sure how long I’m going to stay in South Africa or what I’ll do with myself here or when I get back to the States. This has been the longest period of the most unknowns in my life.

So for just about everything in my life, I have to say, “we’ll see!” But life seems to turn out okay.

I’m back ‘home’ after over a month of travels–DC, North Carolina, New Orleans, and a road trip around South Africa and Lesotho. That’s a lot of miles and I’m glad to be in one place for a little while at least.

I saw friends and family. I saw traditional Besotho villages; I learned ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ in Sesotho. I rode a pony for the first (and second and third and…) time. I saw a New Orleans brass band play till the small hours of the morning. I felt like an extra in a movie about the antebellum South at a New Year’s party in New Orleans. I danced; I know, shocking. I walked through 20 inches of snow; I felt the African sun beating down on me. I crawled through a cave under the Karoo. I saw where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet. I changed a tired in a parking lot in Bloemfontein. I skinny dipped in the frigid pool under a remote waterfall. I bowled while listening to a live Zydeco band. I got chills looking at the founding documents of the US America. I saw a herd of over a hundred elephants. I finally spotted the rock monitor after staring in the bush for three minutes. I rode a heritage street car. I hugged and smiled and laughed.

More later, but for now you can see some of my photos on my photo blog.

And how are you? What have you been up to?

ingwavuma from ipickmynose on Vimeo.

I finally put together some of the clips I took on my Flip Mino HD in Ingwavuma into a video. It’s a bit shakey and I was a bit hurried on the editing but overall I feel like it gives an idea of what life in the town is like.

The clips in order are (in Ingwavuma unless noted):
sunrise self portrait
clothes on a clothesline
kids on zipline
store entrance in Bhambanana
roadside between Ndumo and Bhambanana
returning from the pump with washing
Fana and co at Okhayeni school
kids playing soccer
people in town
minibus taxi ride to Okhayeni
cows resting
Bridgie and her daughter Zaza
the road in Bhambanana
Swifty looking over Swaziland
petro station store in Bhambanana
soccer
overlooking the valley
driving through Jozini
Andrew and Fana in Bhambanana

I referred to some reverse culture shock since I got back. I thought I’d elaborate about what I’ve noticed anew in US America.

• relative wealth
• relatively little security
• relative lack of paranoia about safety
• less of a correlation between race and class
• stores open late
• people talking like me
• people not talking like me
• big cars
• expensive food
• cheap electronics, clothes

I left South Africa on Thursday and traveled for about 26 hours until I landed in DC on Friday morning. Everything has gone pretty smoothly so far. The flight and travel felt shorter than I expected; I got in before the big snow fall here; I’ve had a great time hanging out with friends; and the Steelers stopped their losing streak yesterday in a ridiculous game.

I was hoping for some cold weather and snow when I got here but I didn’t expect the biggest December snowfall in DC’s history. We mostly just huddled inside, had some beer and pizza. In the evening, we went for a nice walk on still-unplowed streets in picturesque neighborhoods. It reminded me a bit of Norman Rockwell.

It’s been a bit disorienting being back. Besides going from the hot summer to snow and winter, there have been some cultural shocks as well. People speak differently and think differently, things work differently, some things are easier, some are harder.

In Johannesburg, it’s apparently Outsurance, one of the bigger South African insurance (vehicle, home) companies. There apparently weren’t enough police/ traffic services to do the job so this company has started sending their own teams.

It’s brilliant. Good PR, good opportunity for advertising—the traffic directors wear Outsurance shirts—and it saves them money—fewer accidents means fewer payouts.

It’s hard to believe it’s been over four months in South Africa already. Like life tends to be, the time seems to have passed both slower and faster than that.

In general it’s gone by very fast. I’ve done a lot but it doesn’t seem long ago that I was getting on a plane here. It doesn’t seem long ago that I was looking for an apartment and trying to decide whether to go to Ingwavuma. It doesn’t seem long ago that I was spending my birthday with people I hardly knew, but having a fine time anyway.

In a number of ways, things have gone slowly. Making friends takes time, though I feel like I’m starting to get there. I still haven’t gotten a number of things that I thought would be nearly immediate: a bike and a guitar among them.

Culture shock has come slowly and subtly. For how South African I viewed myself and all the things I was already accustomed to—most language, food, braais, mannerisms, etc—it was a bit of a surprise that there was any culture shock, but it was that little things that I found surprising, distressing, or disorienting.

When it comes to culture, it’s difficult deciding what I’m going to be stubborn about. One may think that it’d be best to be fluid and adopting of another culture, and that may help socially, but there are some thing I want to be stubborn about. One easy example is that I’d like to guard against the (sometimes intense) paranoia that some South Africans display. I feel like there’s little reason to live life paranoid and if I do get to that stage, it’s time to move back to the States.

I don’t have much of a concrete plan about what the future will hold, but I am coming back in January to see. It should be an exciting few months: a roadtrip with a friend, a visit from my parents (planned before I decided to move here), and the World Cup. And I’m sure other things will turn up in there as well.

But for now, I’m preparing to return to the US America. I’m pretty excited for the trip, to see friends and family, to see my breath, eat some comfort food and drink good beer.

My country of birth listed on my ID is “U.S. America.” There’s obvious wisdom to this abbreviation and I think we should all adopt it. All in favor?

Movies are <$4 is my local art house cinema (about a 5 minute walk) so I go see films sometimes. It reminds me of when I went to movies in Germany lots on Tuesdays because it was 4 Euro movie night.

Last week I saw Whatever Works, the latest Woody Allen film. It stars Larry David as a man who despises everyone and sees life in a very negative light. I laughed aloud a few times. Decent entertainment but not a great movie.

Today I saw Zombieland, a buddy road trip/ zombie comedy. I’m not a fan of zombie movies (despite the Pittsburgh tie) but this is really funny. I liked it a lot.

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I’m following along the Steelers game online. I hope they stop their recent slide here.

I watched last week’s game yesterday. They lost but I was pretty happy how our 3rd string QB played in his first start (and his first throw of the game was only his second NFL throw ever).

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There was a big party on Long St, about 10 minutes walk from my place, for the 2010 World Cup Draw which happened on Friday. It was packed but it was a good time.

In the draw, USA got England, Slovenia and Algeria. Not an amazingly tough group but there’ll be a couple competitive games in there.

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I head back to the States in a week and a half. I’m excited to see friends and family. I’m excited for some hat-and-gloves-and-seeing-your-breath weather.

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I have a bunch of things to do before I head back, probably the biggest of which is trying to find a car. I’m renting a car right now and I’m returning it right before I leave.

On Friday I saw the cricket one-day South Africa vs England. SA gave the red coats a thorough romping so that was good but the whole event was fun. I went with a family friend and spending time with him was great. The weather was gorgeous. The stadium sits in the shadow of Table Mountain. And the people in front of us were nutso and entertaining, a spectacle all on their own.

Yesterday I went to Paternoster, a fishing village (and tourist favorite) a hundred kilometers up the coast or so. I had some really delicious and very fresh fried crayfish and we walked around the beach looking at the fishing boats. It was a nice time away from the city.

One thing I appreciate about Cape Town is that in about half an hour you can get solidly out onto the open road. Nothing-in-sight-but-the-road open road.

Today was pretty relaxed, hitting up the Turkish Baths at Long Street and going for a long walk, ending up at Disa Park where I took some photos.

Just a couple weeks left now till I head back to the States. It seems weird that it’s so soon. At the same time, I recently passed the mark making this the longest time I’ve been out of the country continuously.

I’m thankful for my family, who is supportive even when I have funny ideas about what I should do with my life. I’m thankful for friends who repeatedly include me in things regardless if I’m 5, 3000 or 12000 miles away. I’m thankful for the opportunities I’ve had. I’m thankful for the Pick N Pay that stocks good pecan pie when an expat is feeling a bit nostalgic. I’m thankful for music. I’m thankful for people who are nice or go out of their way to help even when they are hardly know me. I’m thankful for all the ways I can keep in touch with and keep up with friends from thousands of miles away.

I walked out my door at 6:40 this morning for a walk. Out my door is a gorgeous view of Table Mountain and stunning blue skies all around. I finished my walk, showered and opened the door again at 7:30 and the mountain and most of the city were completely gone. Fog/ a low cloud had moved in really fast. It was ridiculous.

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It’s really astounding how much construction there is. Roads, buildings, bus rapid transit lanes, stadia. I’m surprised the city can sustain this for so long. Driving anywhere, any road, is bound to have construction somewhere along the way. I suppose know that most, if not all, of it will be in 198 days or less probably helps.

As I mentioned before, each road construction site has one, if not more, people employed to wave a red (or sometimes orange) flag continuously. There are various styles of flag waving, I’ve noticed. There’s the unexpected lane closure/ merge flag waving, which is very directed purposeful. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s the well-there’s-a-construction-site-here-but-you-probably-know-that flag waving, which is just sort of a little wave side to side.

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On Friday I’m going to see a cricket one day against England. It should be fun. The one-days are pretty exciting, though Twenty20s are really a home run derby, to mix metaphors.

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I’ve been surprised a few times when people mentioned the holiday or traveling this week. I keep forgetting it’s Thanksgiving there. I do like Thanksgiving a lot. I thought of trying to make a pumpkin pie, but I haven’t gotten my act together yet (and I’ve had a hard time locating some components) so we’ll see if that happens.

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There’s a lot of real crap on TV here. Just horrible horrible TV, between soaps, bad American shows and possibly more professional than they even show in the States. So when I heard that Big Bang Theory was starting here, I was pretty excited. It’s on Tuesdays and I was looking forward to it all day. I’ve seen it before, but I was still unreasonably excited about it.

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In other TV news, Al Jazeera news is pretty good. It definitely has more of an international focus that most of the SABC new programs. They show the feed of it on Cape Town’s community station for half an hour each evening.

An article in Sports Illustrated about Team Night Train, one of the US’s four man bobsled teams has gotten me excited about the team:

It’s a Monday night in mid-October, and bobsled season has just begun, so where else would the world four-man champions be but in Lake Placid, N.Y., swapping sledding stories at Lisa G’s bar? It is wings night, after all. Steve Holcomb, pilot for Team Night Train (USA 1 was a little drab for this blithe bunch), is trying to explain the art and science of negotiating a perfect line down the lightning-quick Lake Placid course. It was there, last March, that he drove his quartet to the first world championship for a U.S. team in 50 years and raised hopes that at the Vancouver Games next February, the U.S. men can win their first Olympic bobsledding gold medal since 1948.

Another interesting story is that Holcomb’s eyesight degenerated to 20/500 before he had experimental surgery to fix it, but he found driving by feel so helpful that he now leaves his visor fogged up.

I might have to get behind the team like I got behind curling in 2006. I still wear my USA Curling hat often, in fact. Unfortunately they don’t have any sweet hats. Maybe I’ll have to get a hoodie instead.

An email at work yesterday announced that there might be power cuts today between 9-10am and 3-4pm. Sure enough, around 9:30am and 3:50pm, each for about 10 minutes, there were power cuts. There are major power supply problems, the reasons for which go back years and depend on who you ask. I don’t think they’d ever do rolling power cuts in the States and if they did I don’t think they would have effected my job; the office was on the same grid as SF’s financial district and we never once has a single blip in our power.

I’ve started going for walks in the mornings. I’ve come across this guy a couple times. He’s a large, black, hairy, ugly boar, complete with tusks. There’s a small farm sort of thing a few blocks away and he seems to have wandered out and down the road on two days. One of those days I also saw two donkeys in the road. It’s a bit weird to be walking around the urban-ish/ suburban context and see these sort of animals just out and about.

“You must be getting pretty settled by now.” For various reasons that I’m going to be appropriately vague about, while I am getting used to stuff and settling in a couple aspects, I’m feeling pretty unsettled in other ways.

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I’ve apparently gotten used to SA beer prices at bars. A cheap beer with cost you R12 (~$1.80) and a pricier one (or a 500ml beer) will cost up to R20 (~$2.90). Today at a bar, I asked how much a 500ml particularly good micro-brewed dark lager was and when they said R32 (~$4.50) I quickly chose something else, despite the fact that I’ve paid $4.50 for mediocre beer many a time.

I’ve been on some photo adventures lately, first to Green Point Stadium and most recently to Cape Town’s container port. Both were fun and interesting and I think I got some decent shots.

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Today marked, I believe, my first subconscious use of SA slang–isit, meaning “really?” or “is that so?”. What’s funny about my saying it is that it still sounds odd to hear other people say it. “I’m going to the container port” “Oh, isit?” “Uh…is what?”

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I think it’s time to start learning some Afrikaans, even if it’s just greetings and how-are-yous and I’m-sorry-I-don’t-speak-Afrikaans. Most people at work speak it, some as a first language and its also my flatmate’s first language. I’ll just have to fit it in my head with English, German and touches of Spanish, Chinese, and Zulu. But that’s it! No more languages after that!

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I like this fun theory business. The idea is that the best way to get people to change their behavior is to make it fun. Here’s one example.

(It’s a marketing campaign for VW, by the way. Not sure of the tie in…)

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This is a pretty tremendous photo series covering 27 months in the life of a US soldier from graduating high school to returning from a tour in Iraq.

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I enjoyed this piece in Wired:

According to archival footage, Brown was standing on his toilet seat on the evening of Nov. 5, 1955, attempting to hang a clock in his bathroom, when he slipped and slammed his head on the side of the sink. Upon regaining consciousness Brown reported having “a revelation, a picture, a picture in my head.” A picture which he crudely scrawled down on a piece of paper and subsequently spent 30 years of his life and family fortune to build.

That picture, of course, was the flux capacitor. And as every high school physics student knows, it’s the device that makes time travel possible.

…

The incidents leading up to the time machine demise also served as the basis for the award-winning documentary, Back to the Future.

1. A Friday in an empty apartment. Megan, P. David and I sitting on the floor having beer, talking about Pittsburgh, stories, friends, music and mostly avoiding where I was moving to in three days. I don’t know how long we sat there or what all ways said. For a couple hours there I forgot the echo.
2. A Sunday in a furnished apartment. The Reekies, Christine and I at a simple table with a simple meal and nice bottle of wine, talking about Taipei, cricket, football, and the state of the nation. We didn’t sit for too long but time hung with the laughter and chatter. For a couple hours there I forgot the echo.

Long Street Baths, the pool I use, is open 7am-7pm, which doesn’t leave a lot of time to swim outside of work hours. During work hours it’s gloriously empty, but whenever I’ve tried going before or after, it’s crowded.

Tonight it was packed. Actually, it was so packed that it was interesting. There were enough swimmers that if everyone stopped at the same end of the pool, there wouldn’t be enough space for everyone to stand at the wall. The system depended on at least some people moving. Similarly if everyone was swimming at the same time, there’d be collisions.

I’m sure there are systems or parts of systems like this in real life. Bus garages, perhaps, that don’t have enough spots for all the buses to be parked at once. Or delivery systems (UPS, trucking, etc). Can you think of any others?

Anyway, just something that made me think.

One funny phrase here is boerewors curtain. It’s a play off of boerewors (SAan sausage) and Iron/ Bamboo Curtain-type boundaries. Afrikaaners live beyond the boerewors curtain.

I started working last week. I won’t really say much more about that.

My route to work goes past the containerized shipping port of Cape Town. I love working ports–they have great, huge machinery moving all these building blocks filled with stuff around. Some day I’ll have to plan some extra time to explore the area around the port. The other thing I find interesting about containerized shipping is that it’s such a sign of the modern times–fast, efficient, standardized–but at the same time, they’re just steel containers that could easily have been made a hundred years ago.

One thing I find frustrating is that despite a lot of roads having numeric names, (it seems) locals give directions almost exclusively by street names. But sometimes street change names often and in such cases the numeric name seems particularly appropriate. For instance, in about 1km, De Waal Dr becomes Mill St becomes Anandale St becomes Orange St becomes Buitensingel St.; all the while it’s simply called M3. Yet people will still tell me to take ‘De Waal Drive’ and if I happen to get on the street where it’s called, say, Orange, I’m simply out of luck for sign posting.

Update: Did you know that LA is the busiest US container port but it’s only 13th worldwide? And did you know Savannah is a busier port than Oakland?

As I mentioned last week I had a few days of traveling coming up. My weekend in Hermanus was pretty great. My cousin invited me out to his cottage out there. I met him and his wife at a restaurant in the cliffside by the water’s edge. While we ate some delicious seafood, whales swam past, one even breached a few times. Otherwise there were good times hanging out, watching some rugby (both Currie Cup semi-finals were Saturday–my cousin’s team won but “my” team lost), and generally relaxing.

sunset near Hermanus

On my cousin’s recommendation, I took the scenic route on the way home. The R44 through the Overberg region runs along the coast for a dozen or two kilometers and is a spectacular drive, with the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. I don’t think I’ve been on such a beautiful drive since I went along the Chingshui Cliffs in Taiwan.

the R44 along the coast in the Overberg region

On Thursday I met my uncle in Stellenbosch for some breakfast and we had a nice time. Afterwards I spent a couple hours wandering around the quaint and historic town. It has a lot of lovely buildings in the Cape Dutch style. The drive there and back was also nice, winding through the old vineyards of the region.

a Cape Dutch-style church in Stellenbosch

on my street earlier in the week

I watched part of a debate in Parliament today. It was pretty interesting. Members of Parliament were asking ministers questions. The Ministers of Justice, Police, Correctional Services, Home Affairs and International Relations were all there and answered questions while I was there. There were some light-hearted moments, but there were also some contentious ones as well, particularly ones between the Minister of Justice and members of the DA, during which the above quote was said.

I should note that I had to go through four metal detectors to get to the public gallery of the assembly, but my belt buckle made at least two of them go off; they waved me through all four.

in Salt River

This week has been a bit all-over-the-place. Yesterday I went to the SA National Gallery. It was pretty good and it cost $2 to get in. What’s the last time you’ve been to a museum for $2? Even the Pez Museum in Burlingame is $3! My one complaint about the museum is that there’s too much British stuff–lots of old portraits of generals and things from the 18th and 19th century. Why have portraits of an army someone whooped? (Also, there’s plenty better art from that and other time periods.)

On Sunday I went to the Long Street Baths (where I’ve been swimming) and went to their Turkish baths. I spent two hours in the sauna, steam room, cold plunge pool, etc. Wow that’s so ridiculously relaxing.

in Observatory

Some family is in town, or at least in the area. I’m heading to Stellenbosch tomorrow to see my uncle from the UK and over the weekend I’m heading to Hermanus, where my cousin will be. He and his wife have a cottage there that they’ll be at briefly. I haven’t been to Stellenbosch or Hermanus since 2004, I believe, so it’ll be a nice time.

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I saw Welcome to the Sticks the other day. It’s one of those fascicle French films, with some really funny moments. Basically the main character attempts to land a transfer to the Riviera by pretending to be disabled. Instead he’s found out and is transfer to the dreaded North instead. Thinking she won’t be able to handle the depressing North, his wife stays behind. The main guy ends up enjoying it, but when he tries to tell his wife this, she doesn’t believe him, so he lies and says its horrible. This seems to make her happy. Everything’s fine, until she decides to visit. Apparently it’s the most successful French film of all time? It’s a bit strange to me that that’s the case.

Talk about Afrigadget,

You can buy the book here, William Kamkwamba, who was then about 14, made a windmill to provide power for his family based on a picture in a library book. A pretty good interview with him above.

(Kamkwamba is now in school in Jo’burg.)

This article was written by my grandfather, Alec Milne, chronicling a horse trip across Lesotho in 1936. It’s a long but fascinating article. The photocopy of the article I have has lost all definition in the graphic and three photos that accompany it, so I have supplemented it with ones that did not run with the original story. I’ve tried to preserve the original spelling and style wherever possible. The links, obviously, are not original and have been added to add clarity to those not familiar with some particulars.

The Star, Johannesburg, Transvaal, May 16, 1936

Yesterday marked two months since I arrived here. Someone asked the best and worst parts so far and both of those are pretty easy. Best: my time in Ingwavuma. Worst: there have been some lonely times.

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I took some short videos in Ingwavuma and I was going through them today and what strikes me about them is that they’re so quiet. I commented on the stillness at the time, but I’m struck by how quiet the area is.

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I found a German deli here. I’m pretty happy about that. I had a bauernbratwurst with kraut for lunch for pretty cheap. I also grabbed some spaetzle*, kielbasi (”colbassa”) and Bavarian sweet mustard to take home. Some meal later this week is going to be great.

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Clifton beach, #4

The weather has been quite inconsistent. One day may be almost summer-like, the next rainy and cool. I guess that’s autumn spring for you.

Today is one of the cool and rainy days, but Saturday was the first full on summer day. Everyone flocked to the beaches and I chose Clifton Beach #4, which is nestled between some boulders on the Atlantic coast side. I’d been to some around there before but never to that one and it’s quite a well known one. It was gorgeous and I spent a couple hours reading and people watching.

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I found out today that the pool I’ve been swimming in is closed to men on Tuesdays from 10a to 2p. It didn’t take long for it to occur to me why: there’s a significant Muslim population in the area and customs dictate women shouldn’t show skin to strange men.

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I got to watch my first Steelers game of the season yesterday, on tape delay from Sunday night. It was a good game (they won) but it was a bit too exciting with a close-to-comeback by the wrong team. But it was good to see a game again–I’ve been reading recaps and looking at stats after each game, but something like Mendenhall 165 yards on 29 carries, 2 TDs is a lot different from seeing how he cuts and how the line is playing and all that.

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I’ve been devouring books since I got here. I think I’ve finished four: Long Walk to Freedom, Prayer for Owen Meany, Plains of Camdeboo, and Playing the Enemy and now I’m a chunk into One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest.

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*Yay for Schwabens.

rented Beetle on Boyes Dr.

I rented a 1977 Beetle through December. It’s pretty fun. It’s quite a different driving experience, even compared to my no-nonsense VW Golf that I had before I came. Nothing is power (steering, locks, windows, etc.). It doesn’t have AC or a radio. It takes a minute to warm up enough until it’s willing to be put into gear. There isn’t an intermittent setting on the wipers and the turn signal doesn’t turn off by itself.

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When there’s road construction, there’s a person employed whose sole purpose is to wave an orange flag all day warning of the start of the construction area.

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The TV at my apartment broke on Thursday and my flatmate said she’d get it fixed. I don’t know if I’ve ever known someone to get a TV fixed[1]. In the US, the cost of getting electronics fixed is rather high whereas the price for new or used consumer electronics is relatively low, so people just tend to get a new one. Here the opposite is the case. Besides washing machines and sewing machines and laptops, I’m having a hard time remembering any piece of consumer electronics that I’ve known someone to get fixed. TVs, cell phones, digital cameras, etc–just get a new (or used) one. I told my flatmate about this and she, rightfully so, thought Americans are quite wasteful.

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A couple people have asked which way the water spirals as the toilet flushes here. Toilets flush straight down here, but the sink in my apartment drains clockwise. However, this is, apparently, due to how the vessel is construction or the water enters rather than anything to do with the Coriolis effect.

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flowers at the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden

I spent the afternoon at the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden. I walked around for a while looking at all the things, especially the proteas, fynbos and silver trees, but I chose to sit and read by the prehistoric cycads. They’re funny looking plants and they date back hundreds of millions of years.

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A cautionary sign on Boyes Dr.

I love this sign. I read it ¡Baboons! and it makes me laugh to myself every time I see it.

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[1] I did know someone who fixed’s tEp’s TV while he was living there, though.

It’s Heritage Day here. I started off wearing red white and blue and ended up in the green and yellow, so how’s that for heritage?

It’s also known widely, but unofficially, as National Braai day and I attended one in Fish Hoek, where my aunt and uncle are staying while they’re in town from Jozi. The boerewors was good as was the SA cricket win against New Zealand.

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sunset on the St. Lucia Estuary

It’s been a little while since I updated about what’s been going on, quite a while in fact. After Ingwavuma, I went to St. Lucia Estuary and Hluhluwe Game Reserve for a couple days.

a beach in St. Lucia. hippos were a few hundred meters away

St. Lucia is a tourist town, but getting a good meal was nice. In the estuary park, I went for a cruise on the estuary itself and saw hippos and crocs very close plus a lot of birds and some buffalo and waterbuck. I also walked along the expansive beach between the Indian Ocean and the estuary where fishers cast their lines into one or the other and hippos lounge.

a zebra in Hluhluwe

I went on a game drive in Hluhluwe*. It started at the crack of dawn (5:30am). I’d seen zebra and rhino before we even got in the gate. It was a pretty good morning, staring out over the beautiful hills and velds and seeing all sorts of animals both close and far away.

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Table Mountain as seen from one part of Tamboerskloof

I arrived back back in Cape Town about a week ago. It’s been pretty hectic since, trying to get set up and whatnot.

I moved into an apartment in Tamboerskloof. The TBK as I (and only I) call it is at the top of the city itself, towards both Table Mountain and Signal Hill. I picked the location because it’s quite walkable. Within a ten minute walk are a number of restaurants and bars, a couple grocery stores, a swimming pool and the start of Long St, which has lots more restaurants, bars and shops. So far I’m enjoying living here, though there certainly is some adjustment having been in either suburbs or very rural areas for the last month and a half.

But I’ve spent a lot of time the last week buying things for my room (bed, sheets, curtains, etc) and basic food stuffs. I’ve unpacked. I have rented a car through the middle of December and I’ve met with a couple places about potential jobs. So it’s been a busy time.

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I’ve been posting plenty of photos over at my photoblog.

*the hl sound in Zulu is sort of like ’shl’ except the sh sound is formed by trying to make the l sound with your tongue but instead pushing around your teeth into your cheeks.

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Addendum: All South Africans think that Americans only bbq hamburgers or maybe hot dogs. I guess this comes from movies. Perhaps I’m not the average bbqer, but I’ve grilled or seen a much wider variety of things being grilled than what’s grilled at the braais I’ve seen here (which is usually wors, chicken, chops and/ or steaks).

I learned today that from 1859-1950 the foot in the Cape (aka the Cape foot) was 12.396 English inches. Apparently this still shows up on some old architectural drawings.

I had my bed delivered yesterday and I tried to put on my double-size (aka full-size in the US) sheet and it was really a stretch to get it on. I was a bit perturbed but I thought it might be that the mattress is quite tall and that could take up all the slack plus some. The mystery was solved today, though, when the bed shop called to say that they’d made a mistake and delivered a queen bed instead of a double.

the water spigot at Okhayeni Primary School–the school doesn’t have running water

On Tuesday, I took my first hot, running water shower in two weeks. It was glorious and I wanted it to last forever, though I kept it to a reasonable length.

Immediately afterwards, though, I thought to myself: I bet that’s a week’s worth of water that I just used. I decided to do some calculations to see if I was right.

US federal regulations now mandate low-flow shower heads, which allow 2.5 gallons/ minute at 80psi or 2.2 gallons/ minute at 60 psi. Let’s assume the latter and a short, 5 minute shower. That’s 11 gallons of water or 41.6 liters of water. A pre-1992 shower head might let 5.5 gallons/ minute flow through it. Total water usage for an older, high-flow shower head for the same shower would be 110 liters.

By comparison, by the end of my visit to Ingwavuma, I was using about 25L of water every 2.5 days (plus 5L of bottled drinking water.) That works out to 84 liters of water a week. So about two showers with a low-flow shower head or less than one with a high-flow shower head is about a week’s worth of water. And let’s not even talk about washing dishes or doing a load of laundry.

This is just about facts; I’m not pointing fingers or trying to guilt-trip anyone.

I want to go to bed, but here’s a quick post.

Zulus have a habit of doubling words in English. “Yes, we must go quickly quickly.” Or one of my favorites is what what. “Over there, you’ll find another tuck shop with what what.” (For another reference, you may remember Mbecki’s “softly softly” policy on Zimbabwe, though I believe Mbecki is Xhosa.)

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On Saturday, when we went to watch the rugby match, we got to the lodge’s bar (where they have TVs) and walked in and turned the lights and TV on; then we sat down to watch the game by ourselves. A few minutes later, a woman walked in and asked if we wanted drinks. She sent in a guy to act as a barman when we said we would. He sat in the backroom most of the game, saying to just shout if we needed anything. But near the end of the match, he came out and asked me to help him on his computer, to make a CD with some songs on it. So in addition to my tip, I helped him with burning a CD; I feel like he did alright on the day.

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I leave Ingwavuma tomorrow morning. It’s been a weird two weeks; perhaps the weirdest is that it’s felt like much longer. I feel quite settled here. I’ve been cooking for myself; I have a routine; I’ve made friends. It’s also so far removed from an American life or really any city life that I’ve experienced that it feels like I’m living another life–perhaps someone else’s life–entirely.

What better way to end a weird two weeks than a weird day: I changed a tire, set up two computers, and had lunch at a hidden cafe where the waitress ran (jogged is perhaps a more appropriate term) from the table to the kitchen, despite the fact that we were the only two people there and that we were in no hurry whatsoever.

Tonight was a going away bbq–a braai as it’s called in SA English. My family friend, her fiance, my coworkers and a few of the people I’ve met here all turned out. We ate well, chatted and had a grand time.

On the way back, one pick up served as the ride home for eight or nine people. I stood in the back holding onto the rollbar with two Zulus and a Malawian as we made our way down a bumpy dirty road. People may decry being careless about safety in foreign countries when one wouldn’t be at home, but this time it didn’t produce any injuries, just a giant smile on my face as we bumped through black night with cold air rushing past our bodies.

Every morning, a sea of thirty pre-school voices greet me as I go past the playground. I never knew what they were saying, so I’d smile or give a little wave and half-ignore them, not knowing what they were saying. I learned yesterday that malume means uncle but is often used as a term of respect. So, oops.

By my coworker’s count, 29 people are employed at Zesize. Yesterday (and many days) there were four cars. And Ingwavuma, by many accounts, has gotten a lot more wealthy over the past few years. So that gives you a bit of an idea what gainfully employed individuals in a rural town such as this, even one that’s getting wealthier, can afford.

During yesterday’s school meeting with the radio project kids, they were asked to come up with themes for next week’s broadcast, which occurs shortly before the Heritage Day holiday and will be somewhat related to the idea of heritage. One kid suggested the theme of “Thank God I’m a black man”. After a beat, everyone looked at me to see if I was offended. I wasn’t but I enjoyed the awkwardness of the situation.

Tonight I had my first full conversation in Zulu; granted, it was merely the simplest of exchanges, but I was quite proud of knowing what to say.

I learned today that all the land around here is owned by the king of the Zulus and people have a ‘Permit to Occupy’ (PTO, as they’re known) at best. This, apparently, has its upsides (prices are low and even the poor can afford land) and downsides (can’t be used as collateral at a bank; impedes business development).

Today was quite nice. I went to watch the SA rugby test match at a local lodge with the family friend’s fiance. It was a good time. And it was my first beer in two weeks. After we had a simple lunch on his stoep and dozed for a little bit before hiking out to the edge of the mountains, where they drop down into Swaziland. On one side one can see Mozambique as well and the Ingwavuma river winds through some small hills. On the other, it faces the west and the plains of Swaziland on a shear drop of 600m or 700m. We watched a beautiful sunset from there.

It’s been nice living this little slice of African life; for me it has been a simple and calming time. But I’m not worrying about money, food, clothing, shelter or really much at all right now. I don’t want to misrepresent this area, though. For all the of the romantic ideals of African life, life here is difficult for the average person. For its increased wealth, Ingwavuma still has issues of high unemployment. HIV/ AIDs effects nearly every family and the taboo of the subject hurts the situation even more. Carrying water from the pumps, which run intermittently, a job often left to children, is time-consuming and takes up time when they could be studying or playing. There are water-borne illnesses. Mosquitoes carry malaria. I could continue on, but I think you get the idea.

Just a couple more days here. I’ll be sad to go.

So there are three click sounds in Zulu and I’ve been practicing them quite hard. Today while trying to master two words, Abaqophi (the shortened name [1] of the radio project, I believe this is “recorders”) and uxolo, meaning “excuse me”. A Zulu guy was trying to explain the q click sound: “It’s the sound you make when you call a chicken.” “Uh…I’ve never called a chicken.” I’ve previously heard the x sound described as the sound one makes to call a horse. I feel like the average American may have problems relating to these descriptions.

Well, I’ll try to describe them a little more clearly. C is the sound you may make if you’re tsk tsk tsking someone. Back of the tongue is anchored on the molars and the front pulls down fairly softly right behind the front teeth. It’s fairly high pitched and has a bit of a ‘wet’ sound. Q is the sound you make if you place your tongue flat against the roof of your mouth behind your teeth and then pull down quite strongly, but don’t smack your tongue against the bottom of your mouth. It’s quite a strong, low and open. X is perhaps the trickiest for me. Anchor the front (on the palate behind the teeth) and back (on the molars) of the tongue and pull down with one side. It’s not a clean ‘click’ but it’s cleaner than the c sound. It’s medium pitch, a fairly percussive beginning and a ‘wet’ middle.

One final note: these sounds can have a n sound to them (nx nc nq), but in their purest form have no n sound to them. This is the trickiest part of their pronunciation to me. Alright? Got it?

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A few days ago Colin pointed out that there would be a race between a carrier pigeon and the ADSL of Telekom, SA’s (formerly?) national telecom company. The task would be to transfer 4GB of data between computers 50 miles apart. I told Colin that I’d be betting on the pigeon. Well, I would have done well if I’d bet money:

[The] 11-month-old pigeon, Winston, took one hour and eight minutes to fly the 80 km (50 miles) from Unlimited IT’s offices near Pietermaritzburg to the coastal city of Durban with a data card was strapped to his leg.

Including downloading, the transfer took two hours, six minutes and 57 seconds — the time it took for only four percent of the data to be transferred using a Telkom line.

Wow–that’s pathetic.

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The line between hitchhiking and public transportation here is quite blurred. Public transportation, as I’ve mentioned consists of ‘minibus taxis’ which you flag down when you want to get on and get off where you want, paying a fair for the distance in between. Except in Ingwavuma, these aren’t just minibuses[2]. They’re pick-ups with benches in the back, SUVs and, this evening, a sedan. So basically the only difference between this evening and hitchhiking is that I paid the guy about a dollar.

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Above are the aforementioned potpits in the road between Bhambanana and Ingwavuma. Shown are somewhat benign examples. For a sense of scale, the one in front is about 2.5 feet across.

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The day after last Thursday’s soccer game, I felt fine. First thing into Monday’s game, I pulled—maybe tore—my quad. It’s fine when walking around but the first steps of running, it hurts like crazy. I’d better be careful about it.

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The power went out this morning so I couldn’t heat water for my bucket shower. I ended up taking a cold half-shower and with yesterday’s temperature dip, I was shivering the whole time. And yet, still, there is something about life here that draws you in. I’ve met a number of people here who came here for a year and are still here three years later. I wondered how that could happen, but yesterday and today I’ve been wondering to myself if I couldn’t postpone my return to Cape Town a few more days, a week, maybe.

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[1] Abaqophi basOkhayeni Abaqinile is the full name–the Strong Recorders of Ohkayeni; Ohkayeni is the primary school where the program is based.

[2] In Cape Town they are strictly minibuses and run quite regular routes and do generally work more like buses. The locals both here and in Cape Town just call them ‘taxis’ or ‘public transportation’.

Story time 1: So I went to the store on Tuesday and bought a freshly baked loaf of sandwich bread—it was still hot even. It wasn’t cut though, but when I was checking out I saw this bread cutting machine over to one side, so after I paid, I went over to it to get my bread cut. I put my bread in the ‘in’ side and turn it on and wait for my bread. Nothing comes. At this point I realize there’s this teenage Zulu girl next to me and she’s looking at me like I’m a complete moron. She shows me how it works; you have to open up the back and put your bread into the pusher part for it to work. This whole time she still has that look of contempt on her face.

Story time 2: This afternoon/ evening, the temperature dropped to about 60 degrees. I’m still wearing my long pants and t-shirt from the day and I feel fine. All the locals—all of them—are wearing jackets and knit hats. Apparently this passes for cold here. They did not believe me when I told them this wasn’t cold.

No day is exactly like this, but this is sort of how things have been going:

6:30a wake up

6:35-6:45a heat water for bucket shower

6:45-7a shower

7-7:30a eat breakfast, read email/ internets

7:30-7:45a wash dishes

7:45-8a get ready, walk to center

8a-1p radio project work

1-2p lunch at my rondavel

2-4p radio project work [1]

4:15-6:30p read, play soccer [2] or go for a walk; carry up water or boil water for drinking as necessary.

6:30-7:30p make and eat dinner

7:30-9:45p read, blog, listen to music; sort photos or videos etc.

9:45p-10p brush teeth, get ready for bed

10p go to bed

[1] on Wednesdays and Fridays, for the radio project, we go to a school that is farther away from about 12:30-4:30pm, so I eat lunch earlier on these days.

[2] soccer is Mondays and Thursdays

A friend’s mentioning his overtime for working today reminded me that it’s a holiday in the States. I’d totally forgotten. Enjoy your day off. My next holiday is Sept 24, Heritage Day.

I’ve made some friends here, or acquaintances at least. There’s a group of young people working at NGOs, the hospital, schools and churches. They’re mostly from South Africa but there are some Germans and things in there too. These are some of the same people I played soccer with on Thursday. On Friday I went to a residence on the hospital grounds to play a board game and hang out with some of them. That’s what passes for night life here in Ingwavuma but it was a fun time.

On Saturday I took public transportation alone for the first time here. Public transit here (which is quite similar to Cape Town’s public transport) are ‘taxis’. These are minibuses, SUVs and the like, which people flag down to get in and then get off where they need to, paying a set fee for the distance to the driver. It’s sort of like a hybrid between a taxi and a bus in American terms. Fare from here to town is R7, a little less than $1.

I’d taken them with some people from Ziseze before, but Saturday’s trip into town was my first alone. Great victory! Except I got there at 1:10pm and the shops close at 1pm. What kind of town has shops that close at 1pm? But I walked around for a while and got a coke at a take-away place that was still open.

a sheep in the road in ‘town’ in Ingwavuma

The “town” of Ingwavuma consists of a small shopping plaza with less than a dozen establishments, only a few of those are bigger than the couple hole in the wall take-away places. There is a supermarket, a building supply place, a gas station, a furniture store, an electronics store and a barber shop. Across the street are maybe a dozen stalls where people sell (probably home-grown) vegetables and things. Goats may be wandering in the street; cattle aren’t far away.

the water spigot at Okhayeni Primary School–the school doesn’t have running water

One of the places I’d got to via taxi was one of the schools the radio project works in, Okhayeni Primary School. The radio project group has called themselves what translates to the Okhayeni Strong Recorders. I think this is a pretty rad name.

Sunday I went to a local church which is mostly made up of Zulus. The preacher spoke in English but a member of the congregation translated on the spot–I was really impressed with this guy, incidentally. The service itself wasn’t particularly noteworthy besides it lasting 3 hours, but as I sat waiting for the service to start, some of the gathered, mostly women, sang some hymns in Zulu rather spontaneously. One started a hymn without any prompting or communication with others but many others soon joined in, filling out the harmonies. Some of them were particularly gorgeous and gave me chills.

a somewhat typical homestead around here with some older mud-and-stick buildings and some more modern buildings

In the afternoon I went for a long walk down the hill along the main road, turning back only when I was hot and sweaty and miles away. The road was surprisingly quiet and besides the occasional homestead, it was mostly just grass and trees and hills and valleys around me.

Homestead does tend to be a more appropriate term than home here: most places people live have multiple smaller buildings bunched together. Often they’re separated out by function–one may be the kitchen; one may be the sleeping quarters.

One Zulu exchange that I’ve enjoyed particularly is as follows, and it definitely loses something in writing, in the rhythm and cadence:
One: Sanibona (hello, to a group)
Group, in unison: Yebo! (yes, or general acknowledgment)
One: Ninjani (how are you, to a group)
Group, in unison: Siyaphila (we are fine)

I arrived in South Africa a month ago today. Seems like not all that long, right?

Baba (”Father”) Wyene is the night watchman here at Zesize. He’s very careful, always locking the gate and making sure to only let permitted people in during his watch. He’s also a carver. He brought by a knobkierrie–a traditional weapon–that he’d carved along with some spoons. His workmanship is really good and his prices low; he gave me one spoon and I bought another.

Yesterday was a good day, as I mentioned. A local school group was going to a local game reserve, Ndumo. I wasn’t really a chaperon; I mostly just tagged along as a friend of a friend of the people who run the school that was going on the trip. Good enough for me… We didn’t see much–some nyala, red duiker, wildebeest, impala, vervet monkeys, crocodile, and lots of birds–but it was nice going along those dirt roads at 20kph, arm resting on the window sill, through relatively unspoiled wilderness. We even went to Red Cliffs, which overlooks the river that divides South Africa from Mozambique. Hello, other country! It joins Zambia as a country I’ve seen across a river but haven’t been in.

After I got back, I relaxed for a bit before getting a ride to the grocery store–it’s 6km up the hill and I don’t have a car. Then I played some soccer, which you already know all about. The family friend whose organization I’m working for here then made me some dinner and let me take a real bath–complete with running and hot water! Amazing!

Today I went to a tuck shop–a convenience store–with Fana, the previously mentioned guy who I’m working with. There, a bunch of people were getting an early start to the weekend and many seemed to be a few drinks in already. This mostly manifested itself in the lively chatter and group dancing and singing along to the music absolutely blasting out of the jukebox. It just made me smile.

The road between the T-junction town of Bhambanana and Ingwavuma–the ‘tar road’ as they call it, being the only paved road between the two–has a lot of potholes. Well, both ‘a lot’ and ‘pot holes’ are understatements. Perhaps a ton of potpits would be more appropriate. These aren’t the sorts of things that would merely take out a bike tire; these are often four feet across and up to six inches deep. (I say this without fear of exaggeration.) People drive along at road speeds only to slow down to a crawl to drive around these things. People know that driving through them is a quick way to turn your car into a skorokoro, a junky car. Even the ones that have been patched recently are still deep enough to be avoided!

One thing that carrying your own water up from a pump does is that it puts water conservation into very concrete terms. My first 24 hours here, I used 25L of water in addition to drinking almost 5L of bottled drinking water. This was water that was already at the rondavel. The next 25L water, which I’d had to carry myself, lasted 48 hours and that included water that I boiled for drinking water.

There’s plenty of references to “Africa time” here. Things certainly aren’t run with a German sense of timing. Often one can leave at the time when something “starts” and probably still get there at an appropriate time.

I’ll play. Sure, I’ll play. I haven’t played since I was thirteen, I laugh. I won’t be very good.

Look at me! I’m fast! Look, I just got the ball away from that good player. Look, I’m on a breakaway! Amazing! Oh, I missed the shot. I’ll get it next time.

I do not get it next time. I’m old. I slow down quickly. Soon I’m hunched over, hands on my knees, breathing deeply with a bit of wheeze in my throat. They play on. I hold up my hand to wave off any concern. They are not concerned.

But, in the end, it’s good times. I run and sweat. I sprint and wheeze. My sides hurt; I tell an opposing player to stop being so fast. He is very fast: like lightning. It’s competitive—and I want to play well—but no one keeps score.

Just one part of a really nice day.

The boys are playing soccer today. On the gravelly red clay it’s a different game than the grass game, just like blacktop basketball is different from the hard court variety. I haven’t see a slide tackle; I don’t think anyone will take a dive to draw a penalty. I’m not sure if there are even penalties in this game.

Zesize: soccer field front. The center itself to the left. The yellow rondavel left of center, is where I’m staying

The idea of Lebolla–the bride price–is apparently still very much followed in rural South African culture. Fana, a guy who I’m working with here, suggested 12 cattle or upwards of R50,000 is required these days. Of course there are some who can afford it, but it seems some who are otherwise ready to get married are not solely because of the onus of the lebolla.

One of my favorite SA traditions is not really that old nor is it that impressive. On the country roads, there are often slow vehicles–heavy trucks, half-working bakkies, cautious drivers–while other wish to go highway speeds. The slower vehicles will often slide over onto the shoulder to make it easier for the faster driver. The faster driver will then turn on his hazards for a couple seconds—”thanks”—and then the slower will flash his headlights—”pleasure[1]“. I love that little back and forth.

I don’t know much, but I know that 25L of water weighs a fair amount. And if I carry that up a hill from the spigot to my place every day, I’ll have strong shoulders and back by the end of these couple weeks.

The colors here are instantly memorable–the dark red of the clay, the greens of the plants, the off-whites and browns of the thatched roof houses.

It’s hot during the day. It’s winter, remember. In Cape Town, it felt like winter. Houses don’t have heat and I was wearing a sweatshirt or an outer layer almost constantly. But here, it seems to be summer already. I may be wearing pants, but that’s more because it seems that’s proper at the center than the heat. It’s a dry dry heat. It’s not unbearable, but it’s warmer than one would expect for winter.

[1] often said as in “my pleasure”, the equivalent of “you’re welcome.”

In the waning evening light, teenage boys are doing calisthenics on the soccer field. I know it’s a soccer practice—they’re on the field and there’s a ball in the center—but right now it looks more like some sort of synchronized dance.

The field is of the red dirt, clay really, that’s common in this part of the world and the the goals are each three thin logs nailed together, two sides and the top. I can see a woman walking along a dirt path with a water bucket balanced on her head. There’s something very Out of Africa about this. Except I’m not falling in love with someone that’s not my husband. Am I thinking of the right movie?

And aside from the fact that this is quite rural, I’m not blazing any trails. Others have come before me. I don’t have a rifle at my side to fend off wild beasts; I have to worry more about my laptop being stolen than a lion charging me.

It’s so still. Besides an occasional car on the one paved road to Ingwavuma, there’s just crickets, rustling leaves and voices of people in houses and huts down the hill and across the valley.

Of course I’ll get antsy—I get antsy in big cities too—but I think this will be good for me: the stillness, the simplicity.

It gets dark early here. The boys must not be playing any soccer today; it’s nearly dark and they’re doing sit-ups in a circle; someone’s counting them off in Zulu it sounds like.

The day’s come and gone and I haven’t made any mention of my annual charitable giving. I’m not donating money this year, at least not yet. I will be returning to Ingwavuma, in rural Zululand for a couple weeks this time.

A family friend works there for an NGO and I’ll be helping out with the Children’s Radio Project through that organization. As you may have guessed, I was tapped for this because I am/ was a radio star.

I’ll be returning to Cape Town on September 18 via either St. Lucia or Hluhluwe plus Durban.

I have my malaria pills, bug spray, sun block, and a charged camera with an empty memory card. Bucket showers, here I come.

I’ll probably have intermittent internet up there, so I might not be posting a lot. Feel free to email me in the meantime to get the scoop.

As interesting as the South African accent is to me, what’s more peculiar is the differences in cadence and intonation. At the ends of sentences when Americans–non-Valley Girl-influenced Americans, that is–drop their tone quite a bit, South Africans will often dip a little and then level off again. I spoke with an American who’s been here for a few years the other day and I didn’t realize for a few minutes that she was American because she’s taken on these intonation and cadence traits, though her accent is straight American.

Apparently, I have a thick accent. There are people who don’t always have an easy time understanding me here. That seems strange to me. I feel I speak rather plainly, though I do mumble sometimes.

They call traffic lights “robots” here, officially even; there are times when you’re approaching a light and the road is painted ‘ROBOT’.

The people I’m staying with have six cats. They also fill three bird feeders and spread more birdseed on the driveway daily. And somehow they’re dismayed when one of the cats goes after a bird.

The Gatsby, the Cape Town sandwich, has fries on it. See here for an example. Pittsburghers will know why I’m mentioning this.

The fruits and juices here are great, as are the chocolates and candies. The selection and quality of beer is lacking, but the hard cider is the best I’ve had.

People here refer to the “city bowl suburbs”. Those places are right in the city to me. It’s approximately equivalent to calling the Mission a suburb in SF or the Back Bay a suburb in Boston or Chelsea a suburb in NYC.

When you’re not working, any weekend can be a three day weekend[1]. I decided this would be in–Saturday through Monday. It was a good one. Really good.

three girls in Khayelitsha

Saturday

Saturday I did not expect. A friend of a friend asked me to help with a podcast that she helps with at a school in Khayelitsha. (She wanted my help because of all my experience in radio.) I helped with it; that was pretty good but rather straight forward. Then, it turns out, one students’ mom was performing a sangoma ceremony so we went as unannounced (but invited) guests. I’d been to a sangoma ceremony before on a township tour, but that this was genuine–that it was not done for tourists was special. Twenty, thirty people packed into a tiny house watching, singing, clapping, dancing during the ceremony.

After that, a kid of my parents’ friends was having a birthday party and I went. I met some cool people, chatted, had a couple drinks and some good food. I may have someone to watch some NFL with and some other people to play pub trivia with now, so that’s good.

Cape Town CBD plus Green Point (stadium, in construction, at left)

Sunday

Sunday was clear–crystal clear blue skies–and warm for the first time in a while, so that meant going up Table Mountain by foot. After parking mid-morning, it was a beautiful but strenuous hike up. It’s just about straight up for 3km straight. There are more stairs (made of rocks) than switchbacks and it’s step after step, one foot in front of the others. At the top it was gorgeous, as always, but I think some of the best parts are on the hike up. I meant to take the cable way down, but the high winds forced its closure for the day, so hiking back down was the option and that’s what I did. I still ache…

the Atlantic plus wildflowers

Monday

Monday I went to the Postberg peninsula in the West Coast National Park[2] to see the wild flowers. The trip up there was wonderful: the R27–the West Coast Road as they call it–goes from city to nothing very quickly. It’s a dead straight shot with no buildings and nothing but plains and a glimpse of the ocean for most of it.

The national park itself is fairly plain, but it has nice unspoiled beaches and lagoons. The peninsula was filled abundantly with wildflowers of yellows, whites, oranges and purples. It was really beautiful and worth the day trip.

I didn’t really plan for a three day weekend or really any of this, but that’s how it turned out. Pretty nice, I have to say.

[1] It could be argued that it’s always the weekend in such cases, but I feel like that would require always doing weekend activities.

[2] Can you believe I got a card that will get me into every national park for a year for ~$30?? Ridiculous!

There was a weekend. It was secret. Well, it was not really meant to be secret, but it turned out to be. It was between moving out of my apartment in San Francisco and before boarding a plane for London and then on to Cape Town. I’d planned everything—two, three social engagements a day in addition to packing and shipping—for before I moved out so after was a quiet weekend. A secret.

A trip to the post office. I’d forgotten to mail two things the previous day. The bus #22 took me there and returned with me. Even when jam-packed, there’s something peaceful about the bus.

A lunch and beer with my roommate at a favorite set of places. Well, I guess we weren’t roommates anymore by that point, but we’d been roommates so long–longer than you’d rightfully guess—I’ll probably always refer to him as my roommate, not as some cute familiar term, but because that’s what he is: of course he’s my roommate.

Blog. Writing the last two posts for my music blog. They were hard words to write; I wanted them to be all right.

A long walk—with a portable toilet in the street!—and ice cream for dinner. It was only a couple miles, I’m sure, but it felt like we were walking for a long time. As dusk settled on the city, we walked in zig-zags across the Mission, freshly my former neighborhood, toward a ice cream place I’d meant to try, but hadn’t had a chance. Walking down 22nd St. there was something odd as we crossed Shotwell. It was a portable toilet right in the middle of the street. Drivers executing their three point turns were obviously as confused as I was as to why it was there. And shortly afterward: “What time does it close?” “9. We’d better hurry!” We did. Fudgcicle ice cream was the reward. So smooth and creamy.

Wine and a bad movie. Zoolander is either one of the dumbest funny movies or funniest dumb moves outside of Super Troopers. Splitting a bottle of South African wine, left over from my just moved out-of apartment, during it was nice, too, but nothing better than good company.

Italian mob movie with doves, robes and lots of blood. Not really. Not at all, in fact. But the stones and echoes and space and ceremonious nature of St. Ignatius always makes me think the dove/ gunfight scene of a Mafia movie is nearly upon me.

Saigon and New Orleans and California. Possibly the best $3 sandwich in San Francisco or even the US has carrots and cilantro and other delicious spices and it is from a hole in the wall Vietnamese sandwich shop in the Tenderloin. Even on a Sunday afternoon the line is out the door. Then was the issue of streetcars. I’d never ridden three of the best and there are two I still haven’t ridden: boat tram and the Zurich, but in almost a whole afternoon of riding, I did get to ride on < a href="http://www.streetcar.org/mim/streetcars/fleet/historic/952/">a streetcar named desire, which was fantastic. And if you ride all the way to Fishermen’s Wharf—let’s say this better—if you ride all the way to Fishermen’s Wharf on your last day in America, why not go to In N Out and get something. A milkshake and fries will do…

As they say, only in San Francisco. That is to say, Indian pizza. Better than I would have expected the first time and as good each additional time, my last proper meal in San Francisco was also at the place I’ve probably been more than any other, besides possibly, the taqueria.

And why do I remember just about every detail of this secret weekend? Well, for the above, and because it was the last weekend but also for some reasons I’ll keep for myself. After all, it is a secret weekend.

The keys to the car I’ve been driving don’t make a lot of sense but I think I’ve figured them out:

key #1, aka “ignition key” works in:

• ignition
• front passenger door
• trunk
• gas cap

key #2, aka “other key” works in:

• driver door which operates the power locks for all doors except the front passenger door

Perfectly intuitive, right?

I’ve been up to everything and nothing over the past few days.

With opening a bank account last week, logistical issues haven’t been as much of a constant concern. There’s still plenty up in the air, to be sure.

Colorful houses in Bo Kaap

I’ve been trying to decide where in the city to live. I’ve taken to walking around all the different neighborhoods I was thinking of living in: Gardens, Tamboerskloof, Bo Kaap, De Waterkant, Green Point, Sea Point, Woodstock, Observatory. I’m mostly concentrating on Gardens, Tamboerskloof and Sea Point now, but I’ve been meaning to take another look at Woodstock. Here’s a map that shows the different areas of town, if you’re curious.

the Sea Point pool and Atlantic Ocean

Driving around has been a bit of a challenge. The left-hand driving isn’t hard, but the roads are narrow and winding and one-way streets abound. In perhaps the most extreme case of it since Pittsburgh, I think Cape Town is really a city you need to drive around a lot before you know how to get around. I know the arteries and areas so I can get close to where I want to go, but once I get close, wrong turns seem to have some odd attraction to me. The sign posting also leaves a lot to be desired.

Boats in Kalk Bay, False Bay

I spent a little bit of Friday and most of Saturday down on the False Bay side of things. The towns there have a lot of charm to them. Little fishing harbors, that despite expectations of being tourist traps are still genuine fishing harbors, and towns nestled between the mountains and the sea. Kalk Bay has quite of bit of charm to it and has at least a couple great restaurants. Saturday, I spent with a family friend down in Simon’s Town. Drinking rooibos on the porch overlooking the naval base and bay while the sunset was nice. So peaceful.

The naval shipyard in Simon’s Town

While down there, the friend also drove me around that end of the Cape Peninsula. We stopped at a place called Imhoff, which probably started as a trading post/ farm shop, but has since added camel rides, a nursery, a snake zoo, and recycling center. We went to the snake zoo–wow there were a lot of snakes there and plenty of them were highly venomous. Pretty cool, but every time you came across a cage without a snake, you sort of checked around your feet to make sure it hadn’t escaped. Imhoff reminded me of the places you find in the West of the US on secondary highways–tourist stops that keep added unrelated attractions and businesses to try to get people to stop.

I figured out how to turn on the radio in the old beast of a car I’ve been driving and I kind of like radio here. I’ll just turn the knob till I find something interesting. A couple days ago I listened to about fifteen minutes of Islamic sing-chanting, which is something I was introduced to in a world music class and have only really heard one other time, in Jakarta. I have a bit of a soft spot for the heavily Muslim Cape Malays, who were probably the target audience for this broadcast. Yesterday I listened to some Indian ragas on the radio. They were pretty traditional and wonderful and even included some shehnai or the South Indian equivalent.

Some people answer phones here funny, giving the phone number first. “Eight two four eight one six two, hello!” I haven’t noticed this widely but at least a few families do it. I suppose it helps let the caller know if they’ve dialed the wrong number immediately.

Mellie on top of the fridge

The people I’m staying with have six cats: Timmy, Jack, Fudge, Mellie, Amber and Robbie (the robber). And they spoil them like you wouldn’t believe. Each, naturally, has its own personality, food preferences and spots around the houses they like to sit.

The other day I had lunch at a nice pub/restaurant in Old Wynberg. A family friend had taken me there after our long wait at the Dept of Home Affairs. One of the specials was Thai chicken lasagna. It sounded interesting so I ordered it [1].

Me: This reminds of this Thai chicken pizza a friend made a few weeks ago. She made a peanut sauce instead of a tomato sauce and put cilantro and stuff on top. It was really good.

Family friend: Your mom mentioned you met a girl before you left.

Me, mostly to myself: Was it that obvious?

[1] It was both quite interesting and quite good. Who woulda thought?

At the DMV, you usually just take a number and sit till it’s called. Easy (and lazy). Or if you’re smart you make an appointment beforehand.

Apparently it’s not the way it’s done here. Needing to submit some forms at the Department of Home Affairs, I entered[1] with a family friend and looked at the rows of chairs nearest the counter I needed to go to.

“How’s the order work?”

“You just sit at the end of the line and move over one seat every time someone is called up to the counter.”

“Really? Really?! Wow.”

So we sat and moved one or two seats at a time, as per the diagram above, through the thirty-seven seats before us until I got to the first seat and then got called up to the counter. Those thirty-seven seats took about two hours.

But then we were up at the counter! Almost finished! Light at the end of the tunnel! Sweet taste of victory nearing the tip of our tongues!

Not quite. It was another hour before I left. Everything seemed to take too long: they copied my phone number wrong from my form and I told them immediately. There’s fifteen minutes while the worker went off to figure out how to change it. I needed to pay the fees associated with the forms but the cashier decided to go off on a break so there’s ten minutes. They ran out of paper to print my document, so there’s fifteen minutes. Et cetera.

Now I’m not going to say that America is without bureaucracy–in fact, it’s rife with it–but this was quite pronounced in how it tried one’s patience. I do have to say that lunch outside in the sun, sipping Savannas did feel nicer than I thought it would.

[1] Incidentally, the “entrance” had a metal detector and the exit was on the other side, close to where I was getting passport-sized photos taken. Seeing other people do the same, I just walked into the exit (sans metal detector). The security guard made no move to stop anyone.

Three unrelated topics that are on my mind.

On race: I forgot how blunt people[1] can be about race in South Africa. Having lived in places where mentioning race is equated with racism, it’s a bit shocking. I wouldn’t say these people are racist just for being aware of race–it’s simply a nation that’s very conscious of race as it was a very prominent difference for many years. There’s still racism, of course, it’s just not always the same as the blunt language.

On baseball: I watched a baseball game this afternoon. ESPN World replayed last night’s BoSox vs. Tampa Bay game. I didn’t realize they aired baseball in this market–though I do remember them airing pennant-hunt and playoff games in Asia when I was there in the fall a couple years ago, but those markets are much more interested in baseball than this one. I also saw an ad for Sports Center, though it’s the world edition so we’ll see how it is. Maybe the top 10 plays will still be good.

On coincidental encounters: Yesterday at a small shopping center, I passed two American girls (judging by accents), one of whom was wearing a University of San Francisco sweatshirt. Not only is that that town I just came from, I was on the USF campus the day before I left. Not in South Africa, but there was nevertheless an odd coincidence on Tuesday. We ran into a friend of my aunt’s while out on a walk with her dog in a small town outside London and it turns out she’s about to go to San Francisco to visit her brother. Her brother lives in Noe Valley on 26th St., which is probably within five blocks of where I just lived in SF (also on 26th St.). And I’ve undoubtedly walked by his house as I used to walk up 26th when I needed some peace and quiet.

[1] By “people” I mostly mean people of my parents’ generation. I have had few lengthy conversations with people my age in South Africa and their attitudes are possibly/ probably different.

1. Why is United giving us sporks? Sporks are not good for eating yogurt nor spreading jam on a croissant. I hold up the spork to show to the person in the next seat. “I know”, she says, but it comes out as an acknowledging “I knooooooww” in that drawn out British way. She’s Brazilian-born but grew up in London and speaks like a proper Brit. She’s just been visiting her brother in the Mission and her sister in Palo Alto. We commiserate about the weather.

2. A pub called the Jolly Cricketers in a quaint English town outside London. My uncle takes me out to traditional English pub for lunch but we both order thoroughly untraditional lamb and feta burgers which are delicious. We’re joined by my uncle’s old friend Tom; he does not order a lamb burger. I also down two pints of hand-pumped and only moderately below room temperature ale. They’re good, especially one called Rebellion. Looking back one could ascribe some significance to this trip according to the name of that beer, but really I had just tried Tom’s and liked it.

3. Row fifty two on an Air Bus 340-200 at about four in the morning. The lights are out. I’ve woken up for some reason. My shoulders shudder and my eyes stream messily into my eye cover. Part of it is doubts about coming to SA and part of it is doubts about leaving what I had. But the small hours are not a time when one can tell which are unfounded and which are not.

4. Passport control. The passport agent says “good morning” and that’s about it. Stamp! stamp!, in that nice rhythm that they do–and I’m through. If she’d been thinking about the book I would write about my experience, perhaps she could have said something with greater significance like “Welcome home” as she handed me back my passport. But she didn’t. It’s yet to be seen whether her omission is prescient or not.

I plan on continuing working in mechanical engineering when I get to South Africa. But due to space constraints, I’m not bringing anything but the essential engineering tools with me:

• Roark’s Formulas for Stress and Strain[1]
• Machinery’s Handbook[1]
• TI-85 calculator[2]
• dial calipers[3]
• Wiha precision screwdrivers[4]

[1] I got both of these at used book sales. They’re old editions, but the formulas are still applicable. Total cost: around $6.

[2] You wouldn’t think such a clunky piece of electronics would be necessary when every phone has a calculator function and you can use google as a calculator. But I immediately regretted not bringing this to Taiwan when I worked there.

[3] I really wish I was taking these fantastic calipers but the ones I’ve been using are owned by work, so they need to stay. Can you say ‘Christmas list’, though?

[4] previously raved about

When time’s short it forces you to focus your energies and do what you’ve only said you’ve wanted to do. I leave for South Africa in a bit over a week; time’s short.

Friday I had a going away party which included a secret house concert. This is a guy I’m big fans of* and have seen play in the Great American and other big venues, playing a few feet from me in my living room surrounded by 30 friends. Just acoustic guitar, upright bass and two voices and no amplification, it was nothing short of amazing.

And, after, there was beer, there were friends and there were cookies shaped like Africa and carrot cake cupcakes.

Less than twelve hours later, I was zipping across the Golden Gate Bridge–my first time across it in any form, I tell to incredulous people every time it comes up–on a rented Vespa LX 150 with a lady sitting behind, holding on.

It feels like these are just two vignettes in among many. Time is doing funny things, going fast, but with slow motion episodes.

* Though you may be able to guess his identity, I’ll leave that off this blog. He has a commitment to a music festival to not play shows in this time period.

I sold my car recently and my two bikes (road, fixed gear) over the last few weeks.

Selling my car is a bit strange, but I haven’t actually used it much for most of the time I’ve had it. Not having a bike, though, is weird. Since I left for college[1] there hasn’t been a period for more than about two weeks that I haven’t had a bike. First thing I did when I moved to California was buy a bike (a funny old Lemans Centurion road bike-> commuter conversion). I’ve had two or three bikes for much of the time I’ve lived here. Even when I went to Germany and Taiwan, I bought bikes pretty quickly. But here I am without a bike and without plans to buy one soon[2]. It’s strange indeed.

[1] and before college I owned a bike, too, but I never rode it.

[2] this has to do with a number of factors, nagging knee injury among them.

(But if you do want to see someone getting a bike, check out Scott’s drool-worthy new frame.)

So, holy cow, I’m moving to South Africa, Cape Town to be exact. If we’ve talked recently I’ve probably already mentioned this to you, but I haven’t made it public on the internets till now because I wanted to make sure that things like work heard it from me before reading about it on the internet.

I will answer some of the questions that a lot of people ask.

I’m doing this because I want to. My parents are South African and every time we visit (8 times now) I’ve always wanted to live there, particularly in Cape Town. It’s something I’ve been seriously considering since September 2004 and now I’m doing it.

I don’t know how long I will stay. It might be as little as four months. It might be 1-2 years. I don’t think it’ll be five years.

We do still have family in SA. My aunt and uncle live in in Johannesburg. We also have a lot of family friends in Cape Town. I’ll be staying with one of my mom’s best friends while I get set up.

I don’t have a job lined up. I’ll be looking to work in engineering there. I will be going on an extended leave of absence from my current company.

No, I don’t speak Afrikaans and nor do the majority of South Africans, though there is a significant demographic group in Cape Town that does speak it. South Africa has 11 official languages now; most of daily transactions fall into English.

Yes, you can visit, though check plane fairs before you get set on the idea of going. It’s not cheap to get there (though it’s fairly cheap to stay there).

Yes, I’ll write about it here. I’ve also started a photo blog, in part to encourage myself to take photos regularly while I’m there.

[click to see it larger]

I found this while I was home. See if you can pick out my dad.

I was a bit surprised that while there are some Johnny Weismuller types in the photo, there aren’t the Michael Phelps-like triangles-on-top-of-legs that you see in every competitive swimmer today. And the people in the photo weren’t slouches–some of these people held records and beat international competition.

The Guardian compares South African cities to American cities. Jo’burg is Los Angeles, Cape Town is San Francisco, etc.

The Atlantic has a lengthy but interesting profile of new SA president Jacob Zuma. It raises the question whether he’s the next Mandala or the next Mugabe.

Update: Ryan Briggs has a cool maps (and graphs) of Africa representing how many stories the NY Times has done about each since 1981. South Africa leads the pack with 4295 but as a point of comparison there were 10905 about Canada and 10161 about Germany.

click for bigger version

I got a free sample of Nestea’s new rooibos-based Nestea Red Tea Pomegranate Passion Fruit today while walking around Charlotte.

Notice anything wrong with the label? Calories for 8 oz (240mL, which is actually 8.11 fluid ounces): 50. Calories for twice that (16 oz, 473 mL): 110. How’s that work out? Does the bottom half of the bottom have more calories??

It can’t be attributed to rounding. Manufacturers round to the nearest 5 calorie–as demonstrated by various products in the fridge in the kitchen. 240mL is more than half and even if it was exactly half and the value for the full size was 107.5, then 8 oz would have 53.75 calories, which would round to 55 calories. Can they decide to round to the nearest 10 when other manufacturers round to the nearest 5?

*Or, they might just be cheaters.

Chris McGreal, the now-former Guardian Africa correspondent writes a long and interesting piece about Africa during his dozen or so years there.

I’ve been reading the Africa is a Country blog recently. Honestly, it’s too frequently updated to really read most of it and some of the stuff is not particularly engaging, but there have been some interesting things on there as well.

The most recent thing of interest is this Guardian travelog across the Karoo, a pretty sparsely inhabited dry region of South Africa. Having heard descriptions from family friends and a book I read once, I’d already wanted to go there, but the article’s description is even more alluring:

We pulled up beside the church and the owner of the Die Rooi Granaat cafe, a smiling matronly Afrikaner, looked astonished that we might want food, but quickly prepared a delicious lunch of boerewors, literally “farm sausage”, and pumpkin cakes topped with brown sugar. Children circled the church on bright yellow bicycles. Loxton had almost died out before people in search of solitude turned up and remade it, apparently casting off the stresses that trouble other parts of the country. It was lovely.

We headed north to Carnavon, the very heart of the Karoo. Chris was driving, enjoying this last trip in a car he loves, while I gazed over plains of sweet thorn trees and aloe, spiny shrubs and fleshy succulents. Dassies – ground squirrels – bolted across the road and I searched for the heads of meerkats as the blades of the water pumps glinted under a sky awash with the colours of the dissipating storm.

It sounds almost mythical. Can it possibly live up to the description? I’d say it can’t, but my time in Blyde River Canyon, another mythical-sounding area of SA, proved that such areas can live up to promises.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll have to go see for myself.

I’d forgotten I came down with a cold last time I went to South Africa.

Also, the cough syrup is in a glass bottle. Who puts medicine in a glass bottle these days?

Somehow I started a tradition a couple years ago of donating some money to charities around my birthday. Here’s how it worked out this year:

• 20% Catholic Charities, CYO, Archdiocese of San Francisco—local—I feel like they’re one of the better organizations serving the poor et al in San Francisco
• 20% American Red Cross (National Disaster Relief Fund)—national
• 20% South African Development Fund—international/ South Africa
• 20% African Medical and Research Fund (AMREF)—international/ Africa—they do research and have medical aid for AIDS and malaria, among other things.
• 20% Freedom from Hunger—international

Criteria: I like Africa and South Africa in particular. I like efficient organizations. (I only donate to four star charities.) I think international charities can help more people per dollar than American charities. My primary concern is saving lives now and in the future. At the same time, I think one should strive to help out locally and nationally as well.

Okay, that’s it, I think. I’m a little reluctant to post about this as always.

Disregarding living in a foreign country but otherwise in a stable place, I was traveling all or part of 97 different days last year. Basically I was a tourist for over a quarter of the year.

One of the odd abilities I picked up along the way was this sense I get of where the most likely place will be to have a publicly accessible restroom.

For instance, in touristy areas, your best bets are medium-sized mid range-to-upscale hotels. There’s almost always a bathroom off the lobby.

Today while out in the Inner Sunset (right near this beautiful structure actually), I had the urge and only a bunch of liquor stores, dry cleaners and a tutoring center close by. Then I saw an Albertson’s. Supermarkets, in America, for whatever reason, almost always have a restroom.

Relieved, I was able to take the long route home with a nice walk in there.

I haven’t talked about him in a few years but I’ve been following Oscar Pistorius, the young South Africa double leg amputee that runs fast enough to compete in able-bodied events. His goal was to compete in the 2008 (able-bodied) Olympics.

I was just expressing my consternation last week to a friend that he’d been banned based on his carbon fiber lower leg prosthetics “giving him an advantage” and being against a rule that appeared to be written by the running governing body solely to ban him.

Well, unexpectedly, he got reinstated on Friday. He still needs to cut half a second off of his 400m time before the Olympics to qualify, but if he does, he’ll be able to compete.

Check out this video of him competing in Rome. The ground he makes up starting in the last turn is pretty amazing.

has shown me that one of the charities that I regularly donate to has sold or given away my address to other charities.

A) I hate junk mail from charities–please spend your money on what I’m donating my money to get you to do, not on sending junk mail and B) I’m giving you my money because I trust what you do with it. Selling my address isn’t a great way to retain my trust.

Number of days: 112

Number of days or parts thereof spent traveling: 47 (3 to/ from, 7 intra-Taiwan (3 Kaohsiung, 2 Taroko, 2 Kinmen), 37 intra-Asia (7 Indonesia, 5 Thailand; 15 Hong Kong, Macau, China; 10 Japan)

Number of countries visited (since moving): 6 (Taiwan, Indonesia, Thailand, China, Japan, U.S.) + 2 special administrative regions with separate border controls (Hong Kong, Macau)

Number of countries visited (year to date): 8 (above + South Africa, Swaziland) + 2 S.A.R.s

Number of flights (since moving): 14 (SFO-> TPE-> CKG-> DPS-> CKG-> TPE-> BKK-> TPE-> HKG-> TPE-> NRT-> TPE, TSA-> KNH-> TSA, TPE-> SFO)

Number of flights (2007): 31 (SFO-> CVG-> IAD-> JNB, DUR-> CPT-> JNB-> JFK, BOS-> JFK-> SFO-> BOS-> DFW-> SFO-> HNL-> LIH-> HNL-> SFO + above + SFO-> CLT-> DCA)

Miles flown (since moving): 27,406 miles (44,106 km)

Miles flown (2007): 63,569 miles (102,304 km)

Number of high speed train journeys: 4 (Taipei->Kaohsiung->Taipei, Tokyo->Kyoto->Tokyo)

Number of train journeys: 6 (above + Taipei->Hualien->Taipei)

Approximate number of km ridden on scooters: 225

Best hotel (overall): Kamandalu Resort, Ubud, Bali. A connection to the cousin of the owner opened the door for staying in this swanky place. Gorgeous surroundings and really nice rooms. Private verandas looking over rice paddies. The service was also excellent. We went out riding bikes around the rice paddies one day and came back sweating. Pretty soon after we entered the lobby we had cool moist towels to wipe our faces with. Perhaps the only nicer place I’ve stayed is the ridiculous Schlosshotel Veir Jahrezeiten (Four Seasons Palace Hotel) in Berlin. (They had a Ferrari convention while we were there and it didn’t seem out of place.)

Best hotel (value): Hirano Guesthouse, Kyoto. 3500 yen a night in Kyoto is very cheap and besides a nice place to stay, the owner was very friendly, helpful and accommodating, making us tea when we came home for a break in the afternoons. She also made us breakfast every morning, let us use her bicycles and computer/ internet. Oh and there was a candy bowl and after we ate an unreasonable amount of it, she didn’t complain, she just refilled it.

Number of American chain stores patronized (not counting convenience stores, exact): 3 (2 Subways-Taipei, 1 Denny’s-Kyoto)

Number of American chain stores patronized (counting convenience stores[1], approximate): 22.2 (the above + Circle K’s in Taiwan, Bali, Thailand, ampm’s in Japan, plus 0.2 for a Mister Donut in Japan[2])

Oddest food obsession: Harbo’s Happy Cola gummy candies

Most common food eaten: rice (~ >1.5 servings a day)

Most common food product eaten: Kinder Chocolate (~ 0.6 a day)

Most “exotic” foods eaten: crickets, silk worms, frog

Number of Dr. Peppers consumed: 2 (one in Japan, one in Thailand)

Foods most missed: good bread, good cheese, Dr. Pepper, good beef, shelled shrimp, deboned fish.

Number of Hello Kitty products seen: in the thousands

Number of Hello Kitty products purchased: 1 (alarm clock, convenience store, Japan)

America: so quiet, so dark, so many English speakers, so many whites/ latinos/as, blacks. big supermarkets. low population density.

Least useful piece of clothing: dress shirt (the greenish one, never worn, given away at the end)

Most useful piece of clothing: shoes (the brown Adidas, nearly daily)

Most useful piece of clothing out of its original purpose (and new use): board shorts-style swimsuit (exercise shorts)

Piece of clothing I most immediately realized I’d forgotten: navy blue cotton boxers (that I use as warm weather pajama bottoms)

Number of books read: 5.75 (2nd 0.5 of Slow Man by Coeztee, Love is a Mixtape by Sheffield, Can’t Stop Won’t Stop: a Story of the Hip Hop Generation by Chang, Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs by Klosterman, Born on a Blue Day By Tammet, You Don’t Love Me Yet by Lethem, first 0.25 of About a Boy by Hornsby)

Number of concerts attended: 3 (Emily the Band @ Underworld, Apples in Stereo @ the Wall, Sugar Plum Ferry @ the Wall)

Number of CDs purchased: 19 (5 in Hong Kong (Monitor), 5 @ WWR (1st trip), 5 @ WWR (2nd trip), 2 @ IMPO, 1 @ FINAC, 1 @ Roses(?))

Number of pieces of mail received: 6 (3 packages of promo CD(s); 1 each from Ian, Lauren, Gumbeaux)

[1] This is tricky because things are confusing. 7-11 is Japanese for instance.

[2] Mr. Donut is an American brand but the Asian stores are run by Duskin Co out of Japan under a licensing agreement.

Springboks win. World champions! Vrystaat!

Update: This is likely better news for Southern Africa, though Zim is still screwed as far as anyone can tell.

Thanks for the good suggestions. Here’s who I ended up donating too.

• local 1/4 Catholic Charities CYO, San Francisco Archdiocese They provide a variety of good services to people in San Francisco and San Mateo (my) county.
• national 1/4 American Red Cross national disaster relief fund. I think the Red Cross does really good work and you never know when the next disaster will be.
• international 1/4 African Medical and Research Fund I like that they’re doing research into malaria, which is a major problem, in addition to many other major problems (HIV/ AIDS, TB, safe water, etc.)
• international 1/4 Compassion International A suggestion of Colin last year. Worthwhile services for impoverished children in the developing world.
• international 1/4 South Africa Development Fund They sponsor a wide variety of worthwhile programs of all different sorts in my ancestral home.

Yup, that’s 5/4. I ended up finding more worthwhile charities than I originally was going to donate to so, I just ended donating more.

Last night I saw another film at the SFIFF: Bunny Chow (official site, wikipedia).

[Note: the film is named after a food popular primarily in Durban by the same name. Despite the description, it's not a sandwhich. It's hollowed out bread filled with curry.]

It’s a South African film (so I have an immediate bias) about three comedians and a random fourth guy who travel to a primarily music (but also comedy) festival together. It’s also about the comedy business and different approaches to women.

It’s a good film. It’s was a bit here-and-there, very conversational and, though it had an obvious plot, seemed like you were just watching friends hanging out a lot. I found it engaging. On the negative side, though I did laugh, I thought a film about stand up comedians would be funnier.

I’m fairly used to listening to various South African accents, but Gumbeaux had a hard time, he said. There were some parts that had subtitles even for English in the film (the Zulu and Afrikaans were obviously subtitled). I think the film could use subtitles throughout for American audiences.

Here it is, a little late as always… (I should just say that I’ll post it on the 21st of every month instead of mid-month…maybe I’d be on time more often).

You can download the zip file with the following:
1. mp3s of the songs
2. liner notes
3. playlist files (iTunes txt file and an m3u file—I think the m3u file might actually be right this time)

(for the iTunes file, simply import all the songs to your library and then go to file->import and then select the song list. you should now have the 2007march playlist in your iTunes with all the songs in the correct order).

If you want to read the liner notes before downloading the whole thing, they’re here (first time as a google doc). This one includes a strange variety of music. I have a few indie pop/ rock songs (Benoit Pioulard, The One AM Radio, etc.), a couple field recordings of prison work songs and then a few South African songs, given that I spent much of February there.

Adrian’s March 2007 mix tape [zip file]

This’ll be up for a limited time (~1 week) before being moved to a password protected folder.

If you like the artists or songs, I suggest supporting them by buying their music, going to a show, buying merchandise from them or at least telling other people about them.

There’s an interesting study on genetically modified mosquitos that can resist malaria. Malaria is serious business. Once you get it, you never get rid of it and if you don’t catch it early on, it can be fatal. I chose one of my charities based on the fact that they supported research into malaria in addition to HIV/ AIDs and other prominent medical problems in Africa. I’m worried about malaria every time I go to high risk areas.

I’d always thought that a solution to the malaria problem would come from the human medicine side of things. Of course getting rid of mosquitos helps the problem a lot too, but I’d never even considered that it might be possible to change the mosquitos themselves.

This story seemed cool, but worried me at first. I mean, couldn’t this just be a mongoose-introduced-into-Hawaii sort of situation? That’s the cool part of the findings, though. Feeding on non-malaria-infected hosts, these mosquitos replicated the same as normal mosquitos. On infected hosts, they have lower mortality and were more fertile.

I’d like to see follow up studies, of course, but this seems like one promising path.

I meant to post this the one day I was back between South Africa and Mexico, February 14, but I got held up. I had a brilliant theme, given that it was St. Valentine’s Day: Love Songs: the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Well, it almost worked out but I feel like it won’t have the same relavence or weight posting it today. Oh well.

You can download the zip file with the following:
1. mp3s of the songs
2. liner notes
3. playlist files (iTunes txt file and an m3u file—I think the m3u file might actually be right this time)

(for the iTunes file, simply import all the songs to your library and then go to file->import and then select the song list. you should now have the 2007feb playlist in your iTunes with all the songs in the correct order).

If you want to read the liner notes before downloading the whole thing, they’re here. There are a bunch of great songs on here, from 60s girl groups, to Pedro the Lion (he sure is good at the Bad and the Ugly), to Jose Gonzalez. I also took this one apt opportunity to throw in a couple ‘emo’ songs.

Adrian’s February 2007 mix tape [zip file]

This’ll be up for a limited time (~1 week) before being moved to a password protected folder.

If you like the artists or songs, I suggest supporting them by buying their music, going to a show, buying merchandise from them or at least telling other people about them.

Anyway, I hope you like this one even if it’s a bit past its due. I have a bunch of great songs in my mind for the next one, so hopefully I can get back on track for that one.

I really like traveling and I’m usually not ready to go home, but I’ll tell you, when I got back yesterday, it was nice to sit on my couch, sit on my chair, sleep in my bed, eat out of my cupboard.

madiba is my homeboy. I got a shirt that says this today.

I’m totally a south african hipster now.

it’s awesome having fast internet again. my mind has a problem slowing down to dialup speeds.

After a mostly crazy and ambitious itinerary for the first ten days of my trip, I’ve arrived in Cape Town, where I’ll stay for the rest of my trip.

Dug said yesterday that I looked energized and asked why. I like this city. I like it a lot. It’s definitely in my top five cities ever (though I don’t have time, or really care to make a full list right now).

This city is also familiar to me. I know people here; I know places here. The Cash Converters (thrift store) is still down the street in Sea Point and it’s still a great place to pick up an extra suit case on the cheap in case you bought too much stuff to fit in the luggage you brought with you. The Vondi’s Holistic Pet Nutrition store that I like to make fun of is still here too. I know where to get a good bite to eat and where to do laundry. We’re even staying in the same place
(where my parents have a time share). Perhaps the only other foreign city I have this familiarity with is Stuttgart, where I lived for a summer.

Traveling in a foreign country is largely about learning and experiencing new things, so you may wonder why I enjoy this familiarity. Well, it’s hard being out on the road and rushing around in a very different culture for ten days and coming here has the feeling of coming home and that’s always nice. It’s very encouraging for my thoughts of moving to this city in a couple years.

The water off of Camp’s Bay (Atlantic side) is freezing, but even that was nice somehow. Sundowners on Camp’s Bay is still one of the best things.

The cycling shop that I liked in Sea Point has been torn down though. I don’t know if they relocated or what.

Just a handful more days here. I’ll try to make the most of it, but I also don’t need to wear myself out any more on vacation.

[Oh, Ali's daughter is on TV. She's fighting here in South Africa. The other day I heard her on the radio say that she puts Mandela on the same level as her father. Um...Ali's good and all, but Nelson Mandela's slightly more important.]

I guess this is my first real update about my South African trip with Jon, Helene and Dug.

My goodness, it’s been quite a trip so far.

I started in Jo’burg for a few days, mostly running errands and spending time with my aunt and uncle. I did go to the Apartheid Museum in Soweto, though, and it’s really good, a very well done museum.

Once everyone arrived we headed out to Graskop (hint–not pronounced with a ‘g’ sound at all). That was our home base for exploring the Blyde River Canyon. The views from God’s Window and at the Three Rondavals were amazing, both in the foggy evening and the clear next morning. We also saw some beautiful waterfalls and swam in some of the natural forming pools.

We had our first braai of the trip too (though I’d had one with my aunt and uncle already). mmmm lamb boerewors and steak. delicious…

It was a fairly long decent drive from there to Kruger Park, Satara Camp the next day. We found an elephant before we’d even gotten into the park–it’d trampled the fence at a neighboring private reserve, it appeared. We didn’t even stop for that long and, as you might expect if you expect irony, that was the only elephant we saw. The night drive was a bit of a disappointment, but the drive right as the gates opened the next day was amazing, with fairly close encounters with lions, rhinos, buffalo (not bison), zebra and giraffe. We just kept on driving south from Satara, out of the camp, through that little stretch of Mpumalanga and into Swaziland. It was a long drive that day, with a stretch of KwaZulu Natal after Swaziland to get to Ingwavuma.

Ingwavuma is a rural town up in the Lebombo Mountains on the border with Swaziland. It, like much of the rural towns in that area and much of southern Africa, has a massive problem with AIDS and unemployment. A family friend is working up there with an NGO called Zisize, who are doing some great work with the children of the village. We also visited a couple income-generating groups for the local women: Fancy Stitch and Ingwavuma Women’s Center. We bought some of their beautifully made, locally produced goods.

Bridgie, the family friend, and everyone else we met there was really great to us.

Yesterday was our last big drive of our trip was yesterday, from the dry heat of Ingwavuma to the hot humidity of Durban. We’re still figuring out what we will be doing these next two days before our short flight to Cape Town, where I’ll meet up with my family.

Since my South Africa/ Tanzania trip of 2004, I’ve thought a lot about how lucky I am, but I’ve been reminded once again. If you’re reading this, you are probably quite lucky, too: you are reading the internet. You are probably sitting comfortably in a home or apartment. You can probably open the tap and get fresh, clean drinking water. You have electricity. You probably are able to purchase food for dinner and earn a reasonable wage for your work. This isn’t the norm of the world, not at all. I don’t mean to preach.

I’ve arrived. The two days on planes wasn’t all that horrible, actually.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to rock this jetlag thing. I am multitalented, after all.

Incidentally, The Queen is good. The Guardian is not.

Alright, I’m heading off to the airport in a few hours here.

Have a good few weeks and remember: life is not about fear; life is about love.

I’m a pack rat. I keep everything, though at time (when I’m moving, particularly) I get ruthless and throw everything out.

I am also disorganized. Most people looking at my desk or closet would wonder how I could find anything.

I also have good spatial skills and spatial memory.

Somehow these all work well together. My last trip to South Africa was a bit over two years ago. This morning I reached onto my desk and found 2 R20 notes and one R10 note without searching around at all. They were just in a middle of a pile. I also found about R10 in coins in my everyday shoulder bag which I was repacking it as my carry on.

I’m totally going to be able to buy myself a coke at the airport.

I’m leaving for South Africa (and possibly Swaziland) on Wednesday for a few weeks. I then get back and go to Mexico for five days. I’ll be back in the States ‘full time’ the third week in February. I won’t be blogging much during that period, though I’ll try to write some periodic updates (and also update my lifestats).

It’s a duel-activity trip. Road trip with friends (Jon, Helene and Dug) and family stuff in Cape Town. I’m flying into Jo’burg and spending a couple days there before the rest arrive. From there we go to Blyde River Canyon (including God’s Window). We may stop in the Kruger Park before driving through Swaziland to Ingwavuma. From there we drive to Durban for a couple days before flying to Cape Town. I’ll be in Cape town a little bit less than a week this time. (I was in Cape Town two weeks last time.)

After being home for less than a day, I’ll be heading to Playa del Carmen for a long weekend.

If you need to contact me, email will probably be best, just the same email address as always. If it’s urgent, my parents will have my full itinerary.

There are a few links I’ve been meaning to put up. Things I find interesting but I don’t want to add to the sidebar on the right.

Random links:

• designverb: a blog about design related topics, largely product design and the like. fairly interesting stuff.
• rbally has a nice Cat Power show from Berlin for download [update: rbally seems to have taken this down/ broken]
• youtube has a great chemistry lab safety video explosion. (dylan, are you seeing this?)
• bitsandpieces silly college humor, but sometimes entertaining
• wikipedia has a list of African countries by GDP (adjusted for purchasing power parity) per capita. South Africa’s on top, but barely. For reference, the US is 3rd in the world for GDP (PPP) per capita at about $42,000.
• oregon trail is it possible you haven’t played this game? there are even shirts about it. And you can download an emulated version
• Tom Wilson I feel like I should add him to my list of best producers. He did Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Velvet Underground and more

For my upcoming South Africa trip:

• 3 X 2GB SD cards (in addition to the 2 I already have)
• 6 X Velvia 100 color slide film, 6 X Tri-X 400 black and white negative film

Just because:

• One Kiss Can Lead To Another: Girl Group Sounds Lost & Found
• one CD not to be named due to its embarassing nature (I’ll chalk it up to comfort music) [update: oh fine, it might be this]

[another update:] I also bought a few tickets to this year’s Noise Pop:

• Feb 28: Sebadoh (orignal line up) at the Great American Music Hall
• March 2: Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at the GAMH

I wanted to make a list of my overseas/ abroad trips. We always traveled a lot because my parents are from South Africa and Germany and we have relatives in five or six countries (more now) so we were always visiting and whatnot. With my dad’s help, here it is:

• 1982 March-April: South Africa, Holland and Germany, Düsseldorf for my Opa’s 70th
• 1984-85 Dec/Jan: England, Gloucestershire, South Africa (the never-ending Christmas presents in 3 countries)
• 1985 July: South Africa, surprise trip for my Grandpa’s 75 birthday (the last time I saw him)
• 1987 April: Germany, my Opa’s 75th; Holland, Düsseldorf, Köln, Nürnberg, Regensburg (Bischoffshof), München (except Frauenkirche inside*)
• 1988 August: Germany, my Oma and Opa’s 50th wedding anniversary, Black Forest, Düsseldorf, London
• 1991 March-April: South Africa, Johannesburg, Kruger Park
• 1992 April: Germany, Aachen, Holland, Belgium, Düsseldorf for my Opa’s 80th
• 1993-94 Dec-Jan: South Africa, Hermanus, Pilanesburg
• 1994 July-August: England and Netherlands with Alex, first trip without my parents
• 1995 July & August: Germany, Solingen, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Austria briefly
• 1995 October: Germany, my Oma’s 80th in Berlin
• 1997 March: Hong Kong and China with my Mom
• 1998-99 Dec-Jan: South Africa, Vic Falls (Zimbabwe, Zambia), Kruger, Cape Town
• 2000 May: Italy, Alex’s graduation
• 2001 January: England, with Andy Chadwick
• 2001 March: South Africa, my Granny’s 90th
• 2002 Summer: living in Germany, Stuttgart, Behr Group, side trips to France and Switzerland (and America for the weekend)
• 2003 May: Greece, my graduation
• 2004 Sept-Oct: South Africa and Tanzania, my dad’s 60th
• 2005 February: Mexico, Cabo San Lucas
• 2005 April: England, London for my cousin’s wedding
• 2006 February: Mexico, Playa del Carmen
• 2007 Jan-Feb: South Africa, Swaziland, my mom’s “40th”
• 2007 Aug-Dec: living in Taipei, Taiwan
• 2007 September: Indonesia; Thailand
• 2007 October: Hong Kong, China, Macau; Kaohsiung (TW)
• 2007 November: Japan (Kyoto, Tokyo)
• 2007 December: Taroko, Kinmen (TW)
• 2008 February: Zihuatanejo, Mexcio
• 2009 August-December: South Africa (Cape Town, Ingwavuma)
• 2010 Jan-?: South Africa, Lesotho, road trip

The counts are, I think.
Germany: 7
South Africa: 7 (8th in January) 8 11
England: 5
Netherlands: 4
Mexico: 3
Hong Kong, China: 2
1 each: Hong Kong, China, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Italy, Greece, France, Switzerland, Austria, Belgium, Tanzania, Indonesia, Thailand, Macau, Lesotho

Averages (per year of my life):
Countries: 1.38
New countries: 0.62 (or one every 1.6 years)
South Africa: 0.27 (or once every 3.7 years) (this will lower to once every 3.3 years in January)
Germany: 0.27 (or once every 3.7 years)
England: 0.19 (or once every 5.2 years)

*The Frauenkirche Incident as I call it. We’d toured Germany and went to famous churches in every town. By Munich, I’d had enough so I said “I’ve had enough! No more churches!” and sat down outside the Frauenkirche. Much to my surprise my parents said “Fine.” and they cycled in with my brother. I still have not been inside the Frauenkirche. It is on my to-do list.

Note: updated 13 Oct 2007.

Note: Updated 22 Jan 2008

Note: updated 1 Jul 2009.

Note: updated 26 Jan 2010

With my dad working for a coal company, I grew up around talk of mining coal veins and the like, but I was a little surprised to see this in an article about Centro-matic:

Centro-matic’s dynamic is intelligent, emotional American rock that mines some of the same veins as My Morning Jacket, Son Volt and the Drive-By Truckers.

How about that? Is that a common expression? Does your average San Jose (or other major city resident) know that coal (and other fossil remnants) is located in veins?

I always have moments like these because the linguistic hodge-podge that’s in my head: South African English, Pittsburghese, south-eastern PA dialect, geek slang. I know that 98% of what I say is understandable by the listener; it’s that last 2% that I’m never sure if it’s some specific or specialized term, phrase or way of talking that I’m not sure is in the common lexicon.

So I made some decisions and made some donations. I checked all the charities out on charitynavigator.org beforehand to make sure my money was going to the right places.

Here’s the breakdown of charities and portions of total money that I gave:

• Local 1/4 Boys and Girls Club of San Francisco
• National 1/4 American Red Cross
• International 1/4 to African Medical and Research Foundation; 1/4 South African Development Fund

I don’t think any of these are perfect, but they all do good work. Thanks for the suggestions earlier. In the running for next time are Catholic Charities CYO, Archdiocese of San Francisco, Compassion International, and Worldvision.

note: Those of you who know me probably realize that I’m not writing about this because I want to draw attention to myself or anything like that. I’m not (or I hope I’m not). Perhaps you will see this and think about charities if you have the means.

note 2: It’s nearing my birthday and I’m thinking it might be a good tradition to give to charities every year around this time.

Monday:

1. Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island
2. walking the Brooklyn Bridge (west to east)
3. Grimaldi’s Pizza and Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory with Paul Koh of earbud clip fame
4. wandering around [and purchasing foam headwear in] Chinatown and Soho
5. aforementioned PowerDinner(TM) at Hallo Berlin with mim, liz, jdawg, perlick and qwdgbo

Tuesday:

1. Empire State Building
2. pastrami and dr. brown’s at katz’s deli
3. rye playland! with liz and later jonwerberg and helene [who, I'd like to make clear, despite earlier implications is no way a freak and whose school is only sort of a freak fest]

Wednesday [are you ready for it?]:

1. B&H
2. the Met, the Guggenheim, the Cooper-Hewitt, and the Moma
3. watched a taping of Conan with jweberg and liz
4. pizza in Williamsburg [/Greenpoint?], Brooklyn with Jens Lekman in the catty-corner booth with the above plus mim
5. Jens show at Soundfix Records with the above
6. drinks at d.b.a. with the above
7. a savanna dry cider with jdawg back in the bronx

Today I finished Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane. I blanked out part of the name above because K- is an offensive racial slur equivalent to the N-word in America (when said by non-blacks at least). Basically it’s best to only say it in context of the title of this book.

This is the latest in my series of South African books (Cry the Beloved Country, Country of My Skull, Tsotsi and Karoo Boy were among the SA books I read in the last year), this was possibly the hardest to get through, though Country of My Skull is up there too. As with Country of My Skull, it’s not hard to get through because it’s poorly written—both are well-written, in fact— but this is just some heavy heavy shit here. I picked it up in early April, read the first bit and then put it down for a few weeks before I could pick it up again.

This books is a memoir of Johannes’ (aka Mark’s) youth in the Alexandra township (”ghetto”) outside of Johannesburg. There are graphic descriptions of things he saw and went through in everyday life: violence, disease, malnutrition, and prostitution. I would be reading this during lunch at work and find myself nauseated by it and have to stop reading so that I wouldn’t lose my stomach; or I’d have to close my eyes for a few minutes.

The book is divided into three parts: Road to Alexandra, Road to Knowledge and Road to Freedom. The first part is the heaviest and the one that brings about this feeling of dispair. The second and third parts are more optomistic. The book, in the end, is, in part, a story about overcoming adversity, but it’s also about the system that lead to this adversity and the anger and frustration and hatred bred by it.

As I said, it’s well-written, though I actually found it a bit on the overly descriptive and heavy handed side of things at a few points. A lot of questions are raised in the book, many of them thought-provoking. The book is written, of course from one perspective and it has its biases, biases that history (the book, incidentally was completed and published years before apartheid was abolished) has shown to be on the right side of things. However, as with some other books on apartheid, whites are painted in one of two clear camps: revolutionaries/ those that actively help blacks and racist biggots who fear blacks and want to hold them down. As much as Mark defends himself in the book for having friendships with sympathetic whites and for not being a revolutionary himself, so too are there whites that would defend themselves for not being revolutionaries and yet would still put themselves in oppisition to apartheid.

It’s a worthwhile read, though. Like many things, even after the main conflict is over, the ideas are still true and for many years yet, no doubt, there will be other peoples in human rights struggles and in similar situations.

As much as I’ve been enjoying this literay tour through South Africa, I need a break for a while. I think I’m going to read Chronicles, Vol 1, Bob Dylan’s autobiography, which will go along well with my recent Bob Dylan kick.

I’ve been pretty slow on the posts recently, large because I’ve been busy doing stuff that is sort of not-interesting-in-the-blog-way.

So I decided I’d turn all this stuff into a post.

One time things and whatnot:

• Nedelle’s pretty rad. She’s going to be playing on my radio show this Wednesday at about 10:15pm PDT. I’m pretty excited. I’ll see if I can get a copy of the show up for you east coast people to listen to.
• I’m getting ready for the Tahoe Century ride in about a month. I’ve been trying to ride a lot in preparation. I rode today and yesterday, but I’ve also been having problems with getting an inordinate number of flats, so I need to resolve that. But my goal over the next three weeks is 3 rides/ week: 2 x 30 miles and 1 x 15 miles, including at least one trip up Old La Honda or King’s Mountain per week. At this point, I alternatingly feel I’m screwed and that I’m doing fine.
• I’m going to be in Philadelphia/ DC, NYC and Pittsburgh for about 10 days total in late July for a couple weddings. It’s pretty exciting. I’m thinking about Rye Playland and Kennywood among so many other things. I might also try to catch a taping of Conan, try to catch a Buc’s game and, of course, see some fantastic friends and take lots of pictures with too many cameras.
• I just now found a weird and kind of interesting acoustic cover of Sigur Ros. I never considered that someone could cover Sigur Ros. They’re no Sigur Ros, but it’s cool.
• I’m going to South Africa again next February. February 2007, that is for my mom’s birthday. I’m going to spend a week in Cape Town, but I’m also going to try to spend 1-2 weeks on the road driving around South Africa. I’m looking forward to going back to South Africa.
• It looks like my laptop (Proud Owner of Brand New Canada) is near its end. Unless something changes about the situation, I’ll probably be getting a new one in the next few weeks/ couple of months.

Everyday stuff:

• I’m still taking spanish at the Palo Alto Adult School. It’s about 2 hours a week and the pace is slow, but I’m learning stuff so, yeah, it’s good.
• Lots of KZSU stuff. I’m doing my indie show. I’m not longer hosting the the Lunch Special but I’m still acting as the producer. Lots of interesting guests bringing their music. A schedule is on that page I linked up there. I’m also the Promotions Director, so I try to organize tickets for concerts for on-air giveaways. As the promotions guy, I’m also writing a custom PHP web app. This stuff is not obvious and not easy, at least not for me, the mech e. I’m getting the hang of it, but I’m also pretty much sick of writing this app.
• I’ve been challenged by lawn bowling and recently applied for membership at the place I’ve been bowling, the Palo Alto Lawn Bowling Club. The green is closed until the end of May, though, so no bowling for now.
• The BoSox are tied for lead in their division. The Pirates are a couple steps away from the bottom of the league. The Steelers got what look like a couple good WRs in the draft.

In the last week I finished Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon and In the Aeroplane over the Sea by Kim Cooper.

Michael Chabon has become famous for books since Mysteries of Pittsburgh, most notably Wonder Boys and the Amazing Adventures of Cavalier and Clay. It’s a story about a kid’s post-college summer, his gangster father, his gay friend and his retro-loving girlfriend. It also takes place, in part, in Junction Hollow, the “Lost Neighborhood”, an odd place in a ravine beneath CMU that one can end up accidentally, but rarely on purpose.

It’s a well-written book, interesting and engaging. It’s bittersweet; not too bitter, not too sweet. It’s like an indie movie.

Then I read In the Aeroplane over the Sea about about the best album of the last decade. It’s a small book, barely hand-sized and only a little over a hundred pages long, so you can really gun through this. But then again, it’s sort of like extensive liner notes and how many liner notes do you know that are a hundred pages long? The book goes through the history of the band and the Elephant 6 collective, and the events leading up to the recording of the album. If you are obsessed with this album, I’d recommend this book.

Next up: Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane.

I learned today that the bocce courts I thought I saw in Palo Alto were actually lawn bowling greens. There’s a Lawn Bowls club! My grandma in South Africa used to go lawn bowling (or as she called it, bowling) every week until she must have been 85. I know the basic rules—it’s very similar to bocce except the balls are weighted so they curve as you bowl them. My brother and I even got a carpet bowls set one time in South Africa.

It turns out that there’s also bocce in the area.

Palo Alto Weekly even did an article on the club.

I think I might investigate this place. They give free lessons.

[Update: Apparently my great aunt was the national lawn bowls champion of South Africa for her age group.]

I’m planning to go to south africa for probably about 3 weeks in just under a year (maybe Januardy 21-Feb 11, 2007 give or take a week or two). I’m psyched to drive around the country. I’ve been thinking about where I want to go, so I made a page about stuff I want to do.

If you have suggestions or thoughts, let me know. If you are thinking about joining me, that’d be cool (I’m looking at you jon!) Driving around a lot would be a lot better with someone else.

South Africa brought home its first Oscar for Best Foreign Film yesterday for Tsotsi last night.

I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s going to be showing locally in a couple weeks so I will, but I read the book recently and it’s a good story.

Any ideas where to find video of the acceptance speach online? I missed it live. I’ve looked briefly but I couldn’t find anything.

In yet another South-African-book-now-made-into-a-movie-which-I-haven’t-seen is Tsotsi (the other ones are Cry, My Beloved Country, which I’ve since seen the 1995 movie version, and Country of my Skull). I got the book back in South Africa in October 2004, but it’d been sitting in my stack of books until I saw a preview for Tsotsi, which has since been nominated for an Oscar. So I decided I should read it before it’s out in the theaters.

It’s by Athol Fugard, known mostly as a playwrite. I’ve read and enjoyed a couple of his plays, including Sorrows and Rejoicings. This is his only novel.

It’s about a young thug in Johannesburg in the apartheid days (published in 1980, it was written in the 60s and set in the 50s, though it’s pretty timeless). His life changes when he is left with a baby after a woman he’s accosting runs away. Similarly to Cry, My Beloved Country, though it’s not about the conditions under apartheid, there is a lot that reflects on and reveals those conditions.

It’s a largely psychological novel with relatively little dialogue. The characters are very well fleshed out . The descriptions of events, people and places throughout are sometimes a little much but are always thorough. The ending is a bit unsatisfying, but in a book like this, the ending isn’t as important as the journey.

I like this book a lot. If you want a more narrative story from South Africa, you might want to start with Cry, My Beloved Country.

Slightly related note: is there an equivalent to IMDB for books? Wouldn’t that be useful?

Actually tomorrow on PBS!

The movie is Yesterday.

PBS is showing it (without commercials, like PBS does) tomorrow (Wednesday) at 9pm. It doesn’t even come out on DVD until next Tuesday!

It’s a good movie about a woman with AIDs in the rural Zululand area of South Africa. It’s the first isiZulu feature-length movie.

I was trying to find examples of South Africans talking to play for a coworker and I discovered the International Dialects of English Archive, which has an Accents of South Africa page.

This “heavy accent” sounds like a lot of Afrikaaner women I’ve met or talked to, including the proprieter of The African Hut.

This one is probably my favorite. It’s by an older man who pops his r’s, which I like a lot. I think my granny did that. (The woman in this one practically rolls her r’s. That’s so fun!)

My parents have a fairly weak accent, closest to this one probably, among all of the ones listed.

There are, of course, many recordings from other parts of the world, including many in America. Disappointingly, there aren’t any good recordings of a solid Pittsburgh accent!

You can hear Germans and Irish and English and many other accents (in English) if you click around. It’s pretty interesting stuff.

I was struck today by how Zulu has the best greetings of any language.

Particularly (and their translations):
Sowubona – I see you (used as “hello”)
Hamba kahle – Go well (as “goodbye”)
Sala kahle – Stay well (as “goodbye”)

I guess “God be with ye” which is what “goodbye” came from is alright, but there’s some thing so simple and elegant, yet personal about the Zulu greetings.

Strangely, I’ve bought lots of things in the last 24 hours. First I got a call from African Hut to say that the goods I had ordered in mid-August had come in and they were sending them. Then, later in the day I decided to pick up that Mark Kozelek/ Sun Kil Moon Modest Mouse covers record from Insound at which point I found that you could answer a stupid quiz and get 25% off your whole order, so I got a few things there. Then, this morning, I read that there’s a new 7″ Half-Handed Cloud/ Sufjan Stevens EP out today so I decided to pick that up and noticed something else while I was at the Asthmatic Kitty website.

So, the full haul:

• a case of Savanna Dry Cider, originally meant to be consumed with Jon Werberg, but that will do just fine now.
• 1/2 lb of biltong
• 1 can of guava halfs (or as I call it, 1 can of pure heaven)
• If You’re Feeling Sinister by Belle & Sebastian. I’m finally picking up a CD copy of this. ($8.99 minus 25%!) I now have all the B&S albums on CD.
• The Exquisite Death of Saxon Shore by Saxon Shore. I liked their previous album and decided to give this one a try.
• Summer in the Southeast by Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. The first time I heard Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy in any form was live at Club Laga. I’ve wanted a live recording ever since and now he’s coming out with one. Pre-order for November 15.
• Bodies and Minds by Great Lake Swimmers. I liked GLS’s debut when it came through the station. This effort is apparently good, so I thought I’d pick it up. (What was I thinking last night? I never buy this many “gamble” albums at one time.)
• Tiny Cities by Sun Kil Moon. Aforementioned Modest Mouse covers album. Pre-order for Nov. 1 though I think I’ve heard they’ve started shipping them.
• What’s the Remedy by Half Handed Cloud. Aforementioned collaborative effort with Sufjan Stevens. Vinyl 7″.
• Sufjan Stevens Illinois shirt. They didn’t have them when the concert tour came through here in July but they wore them on stage and boy were they hot.

So yeah, that’s me going crazy. I’ll be getting piles of stuff over the next few weeks though!

I just finished Country of My Skull: Guilt, Sorrow, and the Limits of Forgiveness in the New South Africa by Antjie Korg (pronounced “ahnt-key kroge”). It recounts the events and stories of the Truth and Reconcilliation Commision (TRC) as told by an Afrikaaner poet and South African Broadcast Company (SABC) radio correspondent.

I’ve been reading it on and (mostly) off since about Christmas. It’s not a quick read, certainly, and it is, at times, overly academic or swamped by the language, but it’s undoubtedly a very important and valuable thing to read. There are many sections that are direct transcriptions of the testamonies of victims and perpatrators that are so effecting that I simply had to put the book down. I also found the sections where she reacts to the events very interesting.

Here’s one such passage:

The proceedings are concluded with the anthem. I stand, caught unaware by the Sesotho version and the knowledge that I am white, that I have to reacquaint myself with this land, that my language carriers violence as a voice, that I can do nothing about it, that after so many years I still feel uneasy with what is mine, with what is me. The woman next to me looks suprised when I sing the Free State version of “Nkosi [Sikelel' iAfrica].” She smiles, holds her head close to mine, and shifts to the alto part. The song leader opens the melody to us. The sopranos envelop; the bass voices support. And I wonder: God. Does He hear us? Does He know what our hearts are yearning for? That we all just want to be human—some with more color, some with less, but all with air and sun. And I wade into song—in a language that is not mine, in a tongue I do not know. It is fragrant inside the song, and among the keynotes of sorrow and suffering, there are soft silences where we who belong to this landscape, all of us, can come to rest.

Maybe this has meaning to me, but not you.

I saw Johnny Clegg at Slim’s last night. Johnny is a South African who is sometimes called the “White Zulu.”

It wasn’t my normal indie rock concert fair. The crowd was entirely different—much wider range of ages. It was good fun though. I was suprised at how few South Africans I heard. I mean, how do you hear about this guy if you’re not South African? Have any of you heard of him?

The music was good; many of the 80s-era cheesy keyboard lines weren’t recreated live, fortunately. Johnny told some interesting anecdotes and danced some in the Zulu style. He also speaks a fair amount of Zulu, it seems. One day I’ll be able to speak a fair amount of Zulu.

Over the last two nights I watched part of The Gods Must be Crazy and The Gods Must be Crazy II. Man, what a set of fantastic movies!

The basic plots are Xixo, a bushman from the Kalahari, interacting with “heavy people,” e.g. South Africans and westerners. Both movies have a bumbling South African and a woman who interact in a love story.

There is something very charming about these movies. Movies just aren’t made like this any more! Slapstick humor, slightly spead up film for effect, a goofy “narrator” part that makes it seem like an anthropology movie. The first movie even has this problem with the audio where it’s out of sync with the mouths moving on the screen.

I remember in 1989 or so, we’d just moved to Pittsburgh and the whole family went to see 2 at the Galleria (in the right most theater, if you’re counting). It was just at the time when my brother and I didn’t want to sit with our parents at the movies so we sat up near the front (probably the 3rd row—we’d often sit in the 3rd row) and my parents sat near the back. During the entire movie I could hear my dad’s laughter over everyone else’s.

This 18 year old South Africa kid, Oscar Pistorius, is smashing world records left and right for the 100m, 200m and 400m distances. He’s a double amputee (missing both legs below the knees) and he also holds the world record for single amputees (I think I’m remembering details here).

And he plans to compete in the 2008 Beijing able-bodies Olympics. He recently came 6th in the South African Championships against able bodies competitors and he’s only been running for about a year.

There is now a Cape Town Craigslist, the first one in all of Africa. Good work, Craig. Cape Town is where it’s at!

There are currently about 100 posts on the entire site. That’s sort of like the Pittsburgh CL. ha!

I am not in South Africa; rather, I’m writing about my band with David Franusich entitled Greetings from Johannesburg.

The reason for writing is that it looks like we’ve finished the 6 song EP, finally. The mixes and mastering aren’t done but the writing and recording are.

MP3s of the songs are here if you’d like to listen.

The most recent changes were on the song Nashville, which I changed around on Saturday. On the other end of the spectrum, I haven’t touched Bitter in over a year and Thaw in over two.

You can comment on the songs, if you’d like. We also are looking for better titles for some of the songs and for the EP in general if you have ideas on those.

Yesterday, while out running errands, Andyl and I were at BevMo just across from El Mercadito Latino in Redwood City. I decided to go in to see if they stock Coke in glass bottles made with sugar (instead of corn syrup). They do. I bought 6 @$1.19. I now have 3 left.

It’s so good. I like the glass bottle. I like the way it feels in my hand— the cold glass with condensation. I like the way it feels on my lips. I like the way it tastes; it’s crisper and less syrupy. I like how it reminds me of cokes I had in bottles in South Africa (and, to a lesser extent, Germany and Tanzania among other places).

An article about Mexican Coke vs. American Coke.

Other things that I like in glass bottles or with sugar instead of corn syrup:

• Straus Family Creamery Milk (for my cereal at work)
• heinz organic ketchup (from Pittsburgh, no less!)
• Dublin Dr. Pepper. The holy grail of sugar sodas. I bought a bunch at the Dr. Pepper Museum in Waco, Texas on my last road trip across the country.

yes, to answer your questions, I am apparently a total hippie.

South Africa has received their first (foreign language) Oscar nomination in Yesterday. I believe it’s the first feature film in Zulu. I saw it while in South Africa. It was quite good. I’d more like it to win because it’d be good for South Africa than because it’s an amazing film.

It’s about AIDs in still-very-rural-as-in-water-pumps-and-no-electricity-for-the-most-part Zululand, South Africa. It tackles many problems that are uniquely South African or third world. The man going off to the industrial center (Jo’burg) to work. Travelling to the City for the first time. Walking all day to get somewhere. Rural health clinics. Insular ideas of a small village.

(And I feel I ought to point out, if you don’t know, that the adult prevelance rate of AIDS in Southern Africa is astronomical. 9 of the top 10 in prevelance are Southern African countries with Botswana at the top with 38.8% of its adult population infected.)

I opened up one of the Wurlitzer’s last night and re-wired the power (the 206A was a student model so they were all powered from the Teacher model). It was pretty painless. I powered it up and it worked first try. This particular one sounds really good. The bass is heavy. I’ll try to record some stuff so you can hear how it sounds, but I won’t be able to get that online until after Christmas.

I’m flying to Pittsburgh tonight. I’ll arrive early tomorrow morning and I’m leaving on the 28th fairly early. I’ll probably blog some at home. We have wireless so it’s so easy!

As I will be home, I won’t be doing a radio show tomorrow night. I’ll be back on the air December 31st from 0000 to 0300.

I got some sandals made out of tires from Lauren Owens (a friend of mine that’s doing Peace Corps in Tanzania). She’s back in America for the holidays. I tried to get a pair of these sandals in South Africa but they wanted R150 for them. That’s about $25. In Tanzania they apparently go for 150 shillings, which is about 15 cents. These ones are pretty skillfully made and fit pretty well.