I cannot and furthermore, will not accept credit for the lovely title of this entry, however I felt it was crucial to share with you all since it is a Zulu saying meaning you are “pure and priceless.” I found it in my book, as I have picked up some South African fiction to add to my cultural enrichment. For those of you (all, I’m sure) who do not know what Polony is, pictured above is me, modeling a package of Polony. It’s essentially slices of boloney spam made out of chicken and colored an attractive, mouth-watering shade of pink. Needless to say, this picture is of my closest encounter with said meat (I use the term very loosely).
Speaking of Zulu, I HAVE FINISHED ZULU CLASS and taken my exams, both written and oral. I managed to make it through both although at one point I was asked something along the lines of what kind of beer my friends and I drink (I had just finished saying that my friends and I like to drink beer) and I misunderstood and answered that yes, I am 21 years old. On another note, South Africa has 11 official languages and I speak two of them… pretty decent ratio, yes? Also in Zulu news, I would like to share one of my favorite mama moments of last week (followed by one of my least favorites). The other day, Mama asked me what I like to eat, and I answered honestly that I enjoy green salads. When I returned home from school, I was greeted by a lovely green salad, made for me by mama, how thoughtful. Here’s the precious moment: mama doesn’t eat much green salad (read: any) and had poured half the bottle of dressing over the salad, sure that once I was finished with my salad, I would drink up the extra dressing, milk-in-cereal style. HA.
Least favorite mama moment: so I got in a little bit of trouble this week (read: mama was furious with me, and it’s a very fortunate thing that Friday-Tuesday were spent in Jo’Burg). My very sweet neighbor had asked mama to send me over to visit her, which I agreed to do after generations (psh, no, I’m not addicted…). Anyway, I walked over at 8:30 with my 15 year old sister, but we ran into two guys she knows and talked to them for 20 or so minutes before heading down to the neighbors. Well of course the neighbor phones mama to figure out where I am, mama says I left 20 minutes previous and gets really scared that I got “hijacked” (kidnapped). Five minutes after arriving at the neighbor’s, mama arrives, whipping stick in toe (thankfully I was spared) and yells at me. I of course, apologized profusely, and then explained that in the US, to be 20 minutes late is in many cases to be on time (maybe even early) but this point was lost on her. I’ve decided that she would always be the awkward kid who shows up too early to the party if she ever came to the USA.
This past weekend was spent in eGoli (Jo’Burg: that’s right, I know Zulu) – SPRING BREAK. Okay, so this was no girls’ gone wild, or Mexican villia vacation with all my closest friends, but we did see the apartheid museum, Soweto township, and the constitutional court, and I’m in South Africa, so I’d say spring break went pretty well. I guess we all just decided to call it spring break because most of our friends from home are pretty close to spring break, so we decided we would have our own version and say we spent spring break 2010 in South Africa (beat that, Colby friends). Speaking of Colby friends, I was challenged by two of my good friends on the program not to speak about Colby or Colby people or Colby things for a whole day. In good spirits, I one upped them and said I’d do it for a whole week, so, um, it’s been two days, and this post doesn’t count b/c they’re not hearing it. The premise of the bet was simply that everyone that each of them (plus others on the program) know that goes to Colby loves it so much, and always talks about it, and it turns out I fit the stereotype (who knew, right?!). I will do it.
eGoli also provided me with some uniquely South African experiences which I will share with you as to appease your curiosity. The city of gold, as Jo’Burg is affectionately called, actually hosts less gold than one would see in the Trump Tower, or at least it does not adorn state buildings, nor apartheid museums nor world cup soccer stadiums (speaking of, I have now seen two more and let me tell you, Durban takes the cake for best design, in my semi-professional, qualified opinion). The thing that the city of gold does have is an amusement park directly adjacent to the apartheid museum, located in such close quarters that one would almost feel compelled to casually split time between both attractions. Also, Fromer’s “big apple” of South Africa certainly doesn’t resemble the “city that never sleeps,” in its’ dining options, seeing as many restaurants close their kitchens after 9pm. Guess no one in this city gets the midnight munchies. In other food-related news: I HAD PAD THAI and IT WAS GOOD. Jo’Burg is more ethnically Asian than any other city in South Africa (although still a significant minority) and we went to a thai restaurant for dinner where I enjoyed a lovely plate of veggie pad thai. Sensing my intense anticipation of this moment, the serving staff naturally forgot my (and only my) order. Also, I found out the embarrassing way (by asking in a naïve manor) that spicyness stars do not exist here. Now you know.
Speaking of politics and volatile situations, yesterday was the beginning of a taxi strike in protest of the new bus system, routes and schedule that was launched the same day. When people strike here, they go big, it turns out, and they play for keeps. Taxis provide much of the transportation for citizens in this country, mostly in the minibus form, a sort of public taxi system. So what happens, is they call a strike, and essentially trap all but those with cars (way fewer people than you would think) from leaving their immediate area. Also, they burn tires outside of township entrances (each township only has a couple exits/ entrances as a legacy of apartheid) so people can’t get out. If a person decides to run his taxi, he runs the risk of being shot, as at least two people were in Soweto. As per South African norm, SIT owns two minibuses which are easily mistaken for taxis, so we were pretty trapped for the day. We shuttled in cars to the constitutional court, and risked (this was actually pretty scary) the 5 minute drive in taxis to china town for lunch, but other than that, stayed in. This morning, we snuck out of the city in our taxis under the cover of darkness because we had to get home (note: this is not actually dramatized, it’s actually quite dangerous).
Xoxo,
judy
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