Sunday, June 25, 2006

So I took a break...

Hey, anyone who still bothers to check my blog, I'm extending a formal "I'm so very sorry!" I sort of dropped off the face of the earth, and then did some other stuff... but now I'm really excited to tell the world all about it. I've got some great pic's as well. But, the newest thing crack'n in my life is that I'm leaving S.A. in a couple days. That means that I'm 'en rute' again, which is I guess the way I like it. On the road again...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Pausing for Grief

Early this morning a student strangled his girlfriend and then lit himself on fire. They burned together just a quarter mile from my room. The girl was dead before the fire was started , and the boy died later today at the hospital. I first heard of the murder/suicide this evening, in passing. One of my classmates asked me about a death that was caused by a fire in Denison Res. That's where you live, isn't it? When I got home around 8 this evening and my friends and I were talking the same 'fire' came up. Did you hear, about the fire? And the murder? He burned himself, he lit himself on fire.

No one had any details, only bits and pieces of rumors that had been circulating. We are all exchange students from western countries and had only been here in SA for half a semester. We very rairly know exactly what is going on. We asked my Swazi roommate if she new any of the details, and she did. The murder was premeditated, the boyfriend had bought the petrel before hand. Perhaps he stabbed himself before lighting the fire. He had mentioned the plan to a friend who had his spair key, but the friend thought he was joking. Just last year another murder/suicide took place in the same building, but by shooting.

I live in Denison Phase 5, in block C. The boyfriend lived in another 'block' less than a quarter mile from Phase 5. The girl lived in Denison Phase 5, Block E. Perhaps I had spoken to her on my way to class. Maybe I had seen him when I went to do my laundry. The fire trucks and police must have arrived at 4 this morning. I had not slept much last night and was was awake at this time. I was debating going to the computer lab to work, but had decided against it because it is unsafe to be alone when it is dark. How strange it would have been to have come out of my block and see so many emergency vehicles at my residence.

No one esle seems to think that it would have been strange. Infact, no one seemes to mind that such a violent crime was committed this morning. Life has continued with no interuption. That is perhaps the 6th violent crime that I have heard of, in passing, occurring in Pietermaritzburg since my arrival. I do not doubt that many others have occurred as well. I find it odd to live somewhere where the death barely makes one pause, and I wonder if has always been seen as such a non-event. Even though these two persons that are now deceased were fellow students, neighbors, and tragically young; no memorial was made, none of the other residence were informed of thier death, no candle light vigil is being held, no student service being conducted, no address from the faculty or staff, and no word of support from the community.

Perhaps I have been too sheltered, or have lived in a towns that are too small, or maybe I am simply too idealistic; whatever the case, I really like that all of the deaths that I have encountered up to this point have been approached with a sense of reverence. Time was taken to reflect upon the loss. People openly mourned it as a tragidy or at least as a reason for sadness. People stood, at a somber pose at least for a moment, out of respect for the dead and out of the knowledge of their own mortality.

Today I am not sure how to morn the loss of two people that I did not know, in the face of a seemingly calloused society. I feel impetuous grieving when so many others continue living just as before. But I don't know if I can help myself. I really am upset and I don't want to pretend that I am not.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Xhosa's





Xhosa's





Xhosa's





Xhosa's





Port St. Johns






This is our trip to the Xhosa villiage. Wow!

Plet

On the road, to George






George was not a planned stop. The bus just ended up breaking down there. The first picture was not taken in George, it was where we made another stop. Breakfast maybe. It was just outside of the wine lands. The rest are of some Afrikans architecture, and what distracted us from getting back to the bus before it decided to leave. Much to our relief it was just going to the shop and would return to pick us, and some other passengers who were enjoying some KFC, up.

The Cost of Cape Town






Cape Town really is a beautiful, clean, and relatively safe city. However their is a huge amount of poverty as well. The few pictures that I could take out of the window of our car did not capture the immensity of the shanty towns. These informal settlement stretch on for miles, and are home to thousand of people. As we drove by there were children playing by the road, teenagers playing soccor, grannies cooking mealies; people just living out their lives. They live so similiarly to myself in so many ways, and their worries are similiar to mine as well. However, in material goods, they have so much less; and in oppertunities as well.

The people who live in these conditions are the workers that make the Cape possible; they clean it, provide transport and security, they deliver goods, and they work in the docks. They are also all black or colored SA. This is not a unique occurence, most large cities have squater camps, or government subsidized housing similiar to this, on their outskirts. KwaZulu Natal has possibly the highest rate of poverty in South Africa. But somehow, it appears more striking just outside of Cape Town. I had just spent 2 days on holiday, living in luxury almost, and was returning from a tour of the wine lands. To see people living with so little, after I had indulged in so much, made me feel sick.

I don't see people living in these conditions for ever. The segrigation and discrepensy of wealth is to great to be sustained. Either there will be a great amount of change that benifits the poor, or there will be revolution. And if there is another revolution in SA I think it may be more violent and longer lasting than the first.

I'm Drunk






We visited the Wine Lands for an all day tour and wine tasting while in the Cape. It was pretty amazing, especially because I like all things snoby ranging anywhere from espresso to fine chocolate, so this was a great time for me to have 'fine taste.' The vineyards were really interesting and beautiful and the wine making process was very complicated and involved. You can plant a vine and not have a product until 10 years later. I have a small dream of having a vineyard someday, but that fact alone is almost enough to crush it. I could die before I make any wine or grape juice for that matter.

The first pic. is from a winde and cheese farm we went to. The goats had as much wine as we did I think. The wine here was poor, but the cheese was amazing. Except for one. My fine swedish friend recomended it. It was very 'aged' and I almost threw up. The second and last pictures are of the vineyards. They are so beautiful. I really want one. The 3rd picture is of the first farm we visited. The workers are seperating the good from the bad for a desert wine. The desert wine grapes are harvested last, after they have most of the water sucked out of them by bacteria. That means that they are rotten. The low water content makes them sweeter, hence the desert wine. The 4th picture is of the red wine that is aging at the moment in oak barrels. They age for as long as 28 months, but some age more quickly in 3 months time.

We visited 4 or five farms that day, sampling at each. We started drinking at about 9:30, having champagne for breakfast. This is the vineyard where we saw the workers and the barrels. Their wine was very good, and in US dollars affordable. To bad I have no reason to have such fine wine while I'm here, and no way to get it home without it going bad. Agh Shame.

Next I think it was the cheese one, and then maybe another, or perhapse it was lunch, and then maybe another, and at least I remember that we went to a very nice one last. This farm grew olives as well, and had snotty olive oil blended from fine varieties of olives. We didn't sample the oil, but olives were quite nice. It was a new vineyard and they had only made one brandy thus far, and on a small scale. Brany is aged for a very long time, and their next brandy won't be ready till 2011. They are almost all out of their first stock of brandy, but they let us sample it anyway. It was very very strong, and not at all what I am used to. I don't think that I like brandy very much. But here they drink brandy and coke, thats pretty strange to me as well.

After drinking way to much wine, and being very snotty about it, I can smell and taste some of the different notes, see the different colors and know what they mean, and suck it properly through my teeth and on to my tongue, and twirl it in my glass like a pro. I also discovered that I like more than just Merlot. In fact I don't like Merlot all that much. I like Champagne, dry whites, sweet whites, shiraz, and cabernet. But I think I prefer to have them one day at a time.

Table Mountain






We went to Table Mountain while in the Cape. It really really was the most beautiful moment of Cape Town. It is a must see sight, and I wanted to stay much longer than we had time for. The wind is really strong there, like being on top of a 14er, and the cable cars don't run when it is too windy. We were ushered off the top just as the sun was starting to set. Bummer. Cape town is maybe the most windy place I have ever been. Even in the city it can almost blow you over. I hope to come back and hang out here longer.

Robin Island






The first photo is a view from Robin Island where Nelson Mandela and lots of other Political prisioners were held during Aparthied. The second is sample of the diet for the prisioners. The left column is for colored's or mixed race prisioners who were treated better during Aparthied, and the right is for Black South Africans. Instead of bread they were given Puzamandela which means literally 'drink, strength' and was made of a small amount of mealy (like corn) powder blended with water. The prisoners said it did not give them any stength. The next picture is of Mandela's cell. Sometime before Aparthied had ended they were given beds. Mandela was no longer on Robin Island at that point however, he was in prison somewhere else. The next is obviously a gaurd tower and the wall, and the last is Helena, Par, and Johan. They are wonderful Swedes and I am very lucky to know them.

So now that Robin Island is a tourist destination, we all got to go there, and leave there, all in one day. It was a little strange going to a prison as a tourist, but I did want to see it. We learned a lot about what hate can do, and then we all carried on being rude to eachother for petty things, like cutting in line or taking too long. It's strange that we cannot leave our humanity behind even in the when we are stairing its worst parts in the face. I had hoped that Robin Island would teach me something deep about life. Instead I learned that even I hate people, and that can be a pretty big deal. It wasn't the lesson I had wanted to learn.