Kisses in Cape Town

Right now it is difficult to believe that I am on the African continent. Despite the stress of my time in Tanzania (as any of you who read my 6 page explosion of ranting know too much about), the transition into Cape Town was initially pretty difficult. I couldn’t get over the fact the a few hours ago I had left a sick Cecilia, and now I was in a city that feels more like a cosmopolitan European playground than any place in Africa. Everyone has come to the conclusion that Cape Town is a lot like San Francisco. Never having been there I guess I can’t say for sure, but I see the resemblance just from pictures. All the streets are steep slopes on the sides of mountains and all the houses are bright colors. I wouldn’t have imagined that the city would be so sprawling; I still have absolutely no grasp on where I am in relation to anything. It seems to be a city of many little towns, each with something unique to offer.

I arrived in Cape Town on Thursday night, after almost missing my flight out of Kilimanjaro that morning due to the fact that I was not showing up as a passenger on the flight. When they finally got it sorted out, I was told I would have to pay 200 US dollars in overweight charges. I had forgotten that the weight limits on this tiny plane would be less than half of what they were on the international flights. I had almost no money on me, so I had to get to an ATM. When all was said and done I ended up running to the plane and getting on just before take off. I spent the day in five different airports, and after a sleepless night the night before, I was crosseyed. I felt strangely anxious, I suppose because there was so much on my mind that I wanted to process but I didn’t really know anyone and didn’t have the ability to dissect any of my thoughts. I still haven’t even had the time to talk to Alison at all about the trip simply because we have been so busy.

I tried to put my anxiety and exhaustion aside to join the rest of the group for dinner (most people had already been in Cape Town since the night before). We went to a place in our neighborhood called Rafiki’s. It was SO GOOD. After eating the same foods for almost 3 weeks now, it was fantastic to have a veggie burger and fries. And this veggie burger had pineapple on it, one of my favorite fruits. I don’t know the last time something tasted so good. I can definitely say that I will be eating there a lot, partly because it’s within walking distance, and partly because Monday nights are 2 for 1 pizza nights, meaning that you can order with a friend and spend between 2 and 4 dollars on your dinner. I feel pretty good about that.

We spent a pretty long time there because there seemed to be no regard for serving everyone at the table together. My food didn’t even arrive until the rest of my table was done eating. I guess there’s a bit of Tanzania time in Cape Town. But this place was worth it. There was live music and a bar; the whole atmosphere was very young and lively. I hope that we can start meeting some locals there soon so that we can learn about other good places nearby.

Oh, I haven’t even mentioned the house. Maybe I shouldn’t; it might make you all jealous! Robin and I are sharing a room on the second floor with a view overlooking Table Mountain. We couldn’t have been given a better room. We have the front of the house, so there is a porch just outside our door where you can sit and look out over the city. Our bathroom is all our own, and it is cleaned for us every single day. Our beds are also made for us, but that just makes me feel bad. We have an alarm system on each of our bedroom doors, as well as a locked gate and a lockpad on the front of the house. Note to Matt: unlike the security in Tanzania, this is not limited (Tanzania has a security company called “Ultimate Security Limited”). We took it to mean that your ultimate security in Tanzania is always limited. So anyway,besides the bedroom and the security, we have a swimming pool, and dining room with a fireplace, a sitting room, and just an amazing overall Victorian feel. The only downsides I can think of in the whole house are that there is no heat, so you have to bundle up, and the breakfast in the morning is pretty lacking. But hey, at least we get breakfast. I think living in this house for the next 3 ½ months won’t be so bad.

So let me get back to what we’ve been doing. After Rafiki’s I put on like 4 layers of clothes and 3 blankets and fell into a comma. My family is used to seeing this since I always complain of our house being too cold. In a sense I actually like the fact that it is so cold in this house; it reminds me of home. I only wish I brought more warm clothes. I don’t think I took it very seriously when I was told it would be cold. But it is. Cold and rainy. I can’t wait for a clear day so I can actually see the top of Table Mountain.

Friday morning we all went to UCT to register and have a security briefing. We all managed to take horrible ID pictures, but I think mine takes the cake. Somehow I gained at least 30 pounds in the picture and the color of my skin matched the white background. I love it. Then Pablo and I got left behind after getting our IDs and of course it irritated Dr. Bender. Oops. The whole campus was gorgeous though, and it was kind of nice to walk around a bit without a huge group of people who obviously looked like tourists. We checked out the library and then rushed off to the embassy for yet another security briefing. It reminded me a lot of the “Scare you Straight” programs you see on TV about juveniles in jail. We were pretty much told not to go anywhere or do anything, I suppose so that we will find some middle ground and not go anywhere or do anything alone. But honestly, I wouldn’t go anywhere alone anyway because I know I’d get lost.

After that we went to dinner at the Waterfront at a jazz club. Dinner was paid for by our program, which was good because this place had the most expensive menu I’ve seen yet. The whole group, including Professor Bender, got up and danced while we waited what seemed like hours for our food. It already felt like our group was beginning to gel. I think we already have jokes about almost everyone on the program. Alison gets the most though. Somehow she ended up packing enough button-down shirts to last three months. She thought she needed to have work attire, while the rest of us plan on wearing t-shirts and jeans. We’ve already decided on having a “dress like Alison day” where we will all wear her clothes. For me the joke is that “the Jillian never dies” because no matter what strange illness I’ve had, I somehow won’t die. We all know that if anyone gets deathly sick here it will be me. We’ve also decided that if anyone goes sailing, I will somehow be attacked by a shark and/or contract a rare disease from a shark, probably both.

And now I am up to today, Saturday. Today I realized that I am definitely going to love Cape Town. I already do. I am really enjoying everyone in the house, and I am so looking forward to a few weeks from now when we know more of the city and we are able to take full advantage of what it has to offer. One of the many things that I did not expect was that Cape Town would have such an extensive wine country. As part of orientation week, our program paid for us to visit a vineyard and taste South African wine. We drove over an hour to get there to a small town surrounded by mountains called Franschooek. It was only 11am when we started our tour; I guess it was about the same time that all of our Chapel Hill friends would start their pregaming for our hopefully much improved football team.

I didn’t expect much out of the tour as I have always thought that wine tastes like facial astringent. I hoped I would enjoy the wine here so that when I go home I can finally be more of an adult and drink wine with my family at dinner instead of water. I am such a child when it comes to my palate. But today I grew up. We toured the wine cellar and then sat for a presentation by the owner of the vineyard about the history of his wine and of wine in general. Dad, you would have loved it. We tasted pretty generous glasses of 6 different wines and I really enjoyed 5 of them. The only one I didn’t like was the red. And here’s where the title of this post becomes relevant, because I volunteered to go in front of the crowd and open a bottle of champagne with a sword as the French used to do years ago. I apparently would get knighted if I did this, so I of course thought it was a sweet deal. I was also told I would get a kiss, but the owner was a 62-year-old man with frighteningly wiry and gravity-defiant eyebrows, so I thought the kiss had to be a joke. But South Africans are not shy, and I was definitely kissed on the lips by this boisterous old man. I squirmed and blushed and tried to turn him my cheek, but he won out in the end. He kissed a girl less than a third his age. The whole experience brought out “modest lian” (as I’ve come to be known by some) at her very best. The rest of the tasting I spent flushed and giggling as I looked at the dozens of photographs that my fellow students of course took of my big moment. I’m sure I’ll be detagging pictures online soon enough.

So after the drinking was finished, we all got up to realize that after a breakfast of toast and cereal and a few glasses of the 22% alcohol dessert wine, we were all pretty tipsy. None of us were prepared for this at noon and it was a pretty hilarious site. None of us boast a high tolerance for alcohol, and some on the trip had never had a drink before today. Those were the really funny ones. We all marveled at the fact that our program had just paid to get us intoxicated. We are almost all underage in America, and yet our University wanted to get us drunk. The whole wine tour was only 30 rand per head, about 4 US dollars. Again, Dad, you would have loved it. I couldn’t believe how gorgeous the vineyard was; it made me wish you were coming to visit so that you could see it all yourself. And maybe you too could get a kiss from the old man. Geez, 2 days in and what is South Africa doing to your daughter?

After everyone stocked up on the wine they had tried we headed downtown for lunch, also on the program. I could definitely stay in orientation week forever if it meant my meals would be covered. We all planned on coming back to Franschooek once we heard that the Pierre Jourdan we had just tried was known as the best champagne in the country. That, and you could buy it cheaper there than at any retail store. What a brilliant business scheme this man is working, he charges you a little money to have a tour and taste his wine, and when he gets you tipsy, he leads you to the store to spend all your money on his wine. It was all very well executed. I think our house has more bottles of Pierre Jourdan than people. It’s going to be difficult for some of us when we go home to the states and we cannot have a glass of wine at a restaurant. I am starting to see how it goes well with food. Mom and Dad, maybe you can work on getting me a fake ID while I’m here. That’d be great.

Okay, I’ve probably stressed out my parents enough with this post. So it’s time to stop writing and go to the grocery store to buy food for dinner. Mom, I want to make that cherry tomato sauce tonight. Cooking here is going to make me wish I had learned more from you this summer.

Love to everyone, and I’m sorry for not answering many emails. Blogging is pretty time consuming. And therefore, it’s pretty expensive. I’ll try to write again soon.