After being in Cape Town for a little over a week, I am finally getting adjusted to my new "home" and what it is like living abroad half way across the world. I have begun to realize that it is certainly not easy to pack up all of one's things and start fresh in a new, foreign city without a familiar face or travel buddy for comfort, but I have enjoyed the experience so far and look forward to each morning and what adventures I may embark upon. And it definitely helps being in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and meeting some extremely interesting and gracious people.
I arrived in Cape Town last Friday evening after a much better than anticipated ride aboard the Premier Clase train from Johannesburg. I am not sure why I held low expectations of the train even as it promised to be a trip of luxury, but these feelings of doubt were quickly washed away upon boarding and touring my new mobile living arrangement. I reserved a single cabin and albeit the room did not offer much in the space department, it was very nice and resembled a four star hotel room. Just smaller. A lot smaller. But I would take small and clean over spacious and Days Inn dirty and day of the week. After my traditional new hotel room routine of jumping on the bed (not recommended seeing as the bed was more of a couch and I hit my head on the ceiling and fell on my bum in one motion) I made my way to the lounge and dining cars for complimentary champagne and snacks. I immediately posted up at the full service bar for my first glass of bubbly and introduced myself to other passengers while others slowly trickled on board and into their respective cabins. I quickly discovered that easily over half of the passengers were 55 or older, including a large contingent of elderly Japanese men and women, each possessing a camera larger than my head (which is saying something). But instead of cursing my luck for being stuck on a train full of blue hairs, I grabbed complimentary glass of champagne number two and made my way to the dining car for cake and a medley of beef jerky and assorted nuts. While devouring the carrot cake and complimentary glass of champagne number three, the train whistle blared overhead and screeching brakes slowly released us from the tracks. Our trip to Cape Town was underway.
After complimentary glass of champagne number four and a few questioning looks from the wait staff, I struck up a conversation with an American couple that turned out to be from Washington state. It was very comforting talking to Americans for the first time since arriving in South Africa even if their lives in La Connor were as foreign to me as break dancing is to Stephen Hawking. I soon made my way back to the bar for complimentary glass of champagne number five (please no judging, even though I was riding on luxury the trip was still going to take over 24 hours) and sat in one of the lounge's booths to take in the scenery as we made our way out of Johannesburg.
I spent the rest of the marathon train ride chatting it up with the other passengers, reading some South African literature I picked up in Johannesburg and gazing out at the various landscapes we passed along the way. Most people were extremely friendly and more than willing to talk and inquire about what a big, thirsty American passenger was doing all by himself on the way to Cape Town. All the groups on board made me think how much fun a trip like this would be with a couple of friends or family, especially with the five course meals we were treated to through out the ride and the ridiculously cheap bar ($1 beers, $7 bottles of wine) open from tip off to the final whistle. The highlights of the meals were always the desserts which I generally wouldn't say considering I'm not a sweet guy. Maybe the wine always hit me at the end of the meal and food started tasting better, but I thoroughly enjoyed the traditional South African pudding (which was more like a soft, moist cake like brownie swimming in warm vanilla custard) and the decadent tiramasu topped with a fresh fruit medley.
The route from Johannesburg to Cape Town is fairly straight forward, taking us through the Great Karoo Desert for a majority of the trip before going under and passing through the mountain ranges just east of the Cape. The Great Karoo did not provide the best visual entertainment of the trip considering it is a massive, desert like landscape with shrubs and small trees dotting the terrain, but I did appreciate the majesty of its size and scope. After a semi-restless night of sleeping due to a screeching brakes and a brief but violent thunderstorm, we broke into the mountain ranges around a beautiful burnt orange sunrise accompanied by a full service English breakfast. Definitely a much more aesthetically pleasing portion of the trip and my first introduction to the country's vineyards, something I plan on taking full advantage soon enough.
Around twenty five hours after leaving Johannesburg, Table Mountain emerged on the horizon. All the months of planning, researching and exchanging emails had finally reached fruition and I had arrived in Cape Town, my new home for the next few months or possible year. Disembarking was surprisingly void of any confusion and I was soon waiting on the curb for Sly from the Volunteer Adventure Corp to pick me and take me away to start my new life on the Southern tip of Africa.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Farewell Johannesburg - Hello Cape Town
My time in Johannesburg is rapidly coming to an end and in a few hours I will be boarding a train to Cape Town. I thought a train across the country would be much more interesting than a quick flight but seeing as I've never been on a train for more than a few hours I could easily see myself watching the clock and hating having to smell the over sized family that is roomed next to me and decided to sit with me at every meal. I will be riding on the Premier Classe, a luxury rail service that seems a little too fancy for my taste (check out their website for pics www.premierclasse.co.za) but they have guaranteed three meals and complimentary champagne so I'm in.
Having to say goodbye to my host family was not fun this morning, they have been more gracious, generous and hospitable than one can imagine. Fortunately, a few of them have upcoming travels to Cape Town and hopefully we get together and this time I will be able to return to the favor. I'm especially looking forward to when Sam, the oldest child, comes to Cape Town with his schools rugby team for a tournament. Planning on getting pretty rowdy and embarassing the crap out of him. I'm thinking body paint, posters and at least three cheers (any suggestions would be greatly appreciated).
Contrary to popular belief, I have kept myself very busy in Johannesburg and have not spent my days bar hopping with local rugby teams. But instead of boring everyone with the details of everything I have seen and done, I recant with a brief JoBurg highlight reel.
Johannesburg Zoo with Tom
Last Thursday was going to be a down day for me seeing as it was the day after my rugby adventure but I was then awaken by a thunderous commotion from downstairs. Apparently Tom developed a case of sore throat and swollen tonsils overnight and was too sick to make it to school (but unfortunately not too sick to add to my morning head throbbing). After stumbling downstairs, it was soon apparent that Tom's "illness" did not take away from his eight year old energy level or desire to seek attention. I decided, after approval from his mother, that we would take a trip to the zoo and see if that could help his sore throat, or, more importantly, tire him out a little bit.
But as we were about to leave, Tom decided that he needed a more grown up appearance to look at zoo animals. Tom comes running into the kitchen for lunch with a blue magic marker beard all over his face, looking like a cross between Tom Sawyer and William Wallacae. I wasn't sure if Tom regularly donned make-up before public outings so I asked him to explain his new, very blue image. Without missing a beat he replied, "I wanted to have a mustache so I could look like you." Yes, I have been growing a mustache since I left the States but by no means has it grown to a length to be deemed commendable and certainly not enviable. I'm not sure why I decided to grow out my upper lip, I guess I thought having a mustache while traveling abroad and meeting new people would make things more interesting (I know, pretty lame), but if I had known my attempt have negatively influenced an impressionable youth the razor blade would have come out while still in London. I know imitation is supposed to be the best form of flattery but being flattered I was not. More like embarrassed. Below is a picture of their maid Liza attempting to get off Tom's mustache during the ten minute scrub session.
The zoo proved to be quite fun although as soon as I walked through the gates I realized the absurdity of my visit. Gazing and gawking at indigenous African animals held behind their iron cages and bulletproof glass cages seemed odd considering I was actually in Africa and could actually go and see these creatures in their natural habitat. Why travel half way across the globe to see caged African animals when they roam freely a few hundred kilometers drive away? (side note - I am getting sick and tired of adapting to the un-American measurements that the rest of the world apparently uses. I realize I have to adapt sooner or later but converting to centigrade and meters is harder than jerking off a cheetah with a handful of tacks in a phone booth) It didn't help that the lions, rhinos, elephants and cheetahs looked more doped up on sleeping pills than Heath Ledger (too soon, yeah, you're probably right) and rightfully so. I imagine that they were not only depressed, but kicked in the balls pissed off that they were so close to home yet stuck in captivity for the enjoyment of lazy tourists.
Instead of sulking in the realization of my situation, I decided to make sure Tom had the best "sick day" possible. Not a hard task considering his sheer excitement at every animal cage we passed, but I made sure to rent a golf cart, have two rounds of ice cream and ride carnival rides until our stomachs hurt. A great day but I couldn't help wondering how much more fun it would have been had I let Tom display his blue mustache to the public.
Soweto Bicycle Tour
For my last weekend in Johannesburg I reserved myself a spot on a 4-hour bicycle of Soweto. Seeing as I had spent a majority of my time in the city's suburbs with an occasional visit into the city, I felt that I had not experienced the lifestyle that a large minority of South Africans face. Soweto is also so important historically and culturally that missing it would have left a huge void in my trip. Not to say that a four hour tour would qualify me as an expert in what it means to live in a township, but I would at least develop a greater understanding of a culture I had only read about in books.
Immediately upon hitting the turbulent pavement of Soweto, I appreciated being on a bicycle rather than a traditional air conditioned Land Rover tour of the township. I was able to not only receive an informative, personal tour from two life long Sowetans, but being on a bike enabled me to acutely experience township life through all five of my senses without the barricade of an automatic car window. Our tour took as to the traditional highlights of Mandela's and Desmond Tutu's home and the Hector Pieterson Memoria but we also stopped at a local Sowetan burger joint (even though the burger we ate resembled nothing of a quarter pounder with cheese), a shabeen (watering hole) and one of the shopping malls in the area. I did not anticipate the level of development in Soweto and certainly did not expect to see malls complete with banks, fast food joints and Pick n' Pay grocery stores as well as BMW's and Mercedes speeding down the main roads. Yes, an alarmingly high level of poverty of which I had never seen before persists throughout the township, but parts of Soweto have achieved levels of wealth I previously thought unimaginable. Whether or not that misconception can be blamed on my ignorance, I think a large population of people would have shared in my discovery.
The highlight of the trip, which would be hard to pinpoint because there were many memorable moments (beer and pool at The Shack, standing next to where Mandela used to live), had to have been our first stop and my introduction to a traditional breakfast and drink. Oliver and Tobela led me and Mark (the only other tourists, a fifty year old guy from Holland that lived in apartheid SA for five years) to a rusted tin shack in the middle of Sowetan hostel. We were beckoned into the dilapidated structure and told to sit along one of the wooden benches positioned along the walls. When my eyes adjusted to the dark scenery, I notice that Oliver and Tobela were no longer present, replaced instead by a group of elderly men ranging from fifty to seventy (although I wouldn't have been surprised if one or more claimed to be ninety) and a swarming throng of flies. Although awkward at first, soon enough the group of men began asking us questions about where we were from and were more than happy to tell us about their lives and what they were up to. Then the food came.
Oliver comes in with two medium sized plastic buckets full to the brim with some kind of stale white liquid. He then drops to one knee and goes into detail about the porridge and homemade beer we were about to share. The porridge is similar to pap, a popular South Africa dish that to me best resembles a stiff, congealed bowl of grits, except that it has more of an oatmeal consistency as well as acrid taste. I tried my best to take a large gulp but it tasted pretty foul and certainly did not sit in my stomach well. Next up to drink and pass around the circle was a homemade beer which I was greatly in need of to wash down and get rid of the porridge taste festering on my taste buds. Although it wasn't a great beer, it hit the spot and I took two huge gulps before passing it along. I credit my college years of drinking Natty Light to being able to enjoy this brew because thats kind of what it reminded me of except a little thinker. Not a beer pong beer by any means. But regardless of how each drink tasted, the best part was the communal aspect of our drinking and the converstions we shared. Not an experience I ever thought I would have but one I would easily do again.
Below are a few pictures from the trip. Taking pictures while riding a bike is ridiculous hard but I managed to snap a few good ones.
So as not to ramble on too much further, here are a few other pictures and highlights of time in Johannesburg:
Trip to Constitutional Court
South Africa's equivalent to the US Supreme Court, the recently constructed Constitutional Court resides very close to downtown Johannesburg and was built on the same site as the Old Fort turned jail that kept prisoners during apartheid. When I went for my tour I was fortunate enough to not only be in a group all by myself but I had one of the best tour guides I have ever had. Lekota was extremely knowledgeable about the history of the prison that held Mandela and Gandhi and answered all my questions expertly. The Court itself is beautiful, built with some of the same bricks used in the Awaiting Blocks for prisoners of the old jail and decorated with lots of local artwork. Below is a picture of me and Lekota infront of the court where all the judges preside.
Maropeng - Cradle of Humankind
Really cool museum and caves located about an hour outside of Johannesburg. This is where the oldest hominid fossil was ever found and the museum covers this discovery as well as give a good history of the Earth's formation and evolution of life. The caves were a nice respite from the humid temperature of the day even though the tour itself wasn't all that exciting.
I could have written about so many more experiences (like being razzed by a famous South African comedian at his show for being the one American in a crowd of a couple hundred) but I have to end this post sometime. Next up I'll cover my luxury train ride and first weekend in Cape Town.
Cheers
Having to say goodbye to my host family was not fun this morning, they have been more gracious, generous and hospitable than one can imagine. Fortunately, a few of them have upcoming travels to Cape Town and hopefully we get together and this time I will be able to return to the favor. I'm especially looking forward to when Sam, the oldest child, comes to Cape Town with his schools rugby team for a tournament. Planning on getting pretty rowdy and embarassing the crap out of him. I'm thinking body paint, posters and at least three cheers (any suggestions would be greatly appreciated).
Contrary to popular belief, I have kept myself very busy in Johannesburg and have not spent my days bar hopping with local rugby teams. But instead of boring everyone with the details of everything I have seen and done, I recant with a brief JoBurg highlight reel.
Johannesburg Zoo with Tom
Last Thursday was going to be a down day for me seeing as it was the day after my rugby adventure but I was then awaken by a thunderous commotion from downstairs. Apparently Tom developed a case of sore throat and swollen tonsils overnight and was too sick to make it to school (but unfortunately not too sick to add to my morning head throbbing). After stumbling downstairs, it was soon apparent that Tom's "illness" did not take away from his eight year old energy level or desire to seek attention. I decided, after approval from his mother, that we would take a trip to the zoo and see if that could help his sore throat, or, more importantly, tire him out a little bit.
But as we were about to leave, Tom decided that he needed a more grown up appearance to look at zoo animals. Tom comes running into the kitchen for lunch with a blue magic marker beard all over his face, looking like a cross between Tom Sawyer and William Wallacae. I wasn't sure if Tom regularly donned make-up before public outings so I asked him to explain his new, very blue image. Without missing a beat he replied, "I wanted to have a mustache so I could look like you." Yes, I have been growing a mustache since I left the States but by no means has it grown to a length to be deemed commendable and certainly not enviable. I'm not sure why I decided to grow out my upper lip, I guess I thought having a mustache while traveling abroad and meeting new people would make things more interesting (I know, pretty lame), but if I had known my attempt have negatively influenced an impressionable youth the razor blade would have come out while still in London. I know imitation is supposed to be the best form of flattery but being flattered I was not. More like embarrassed. Below is a picture of their maid Liza attempting to get off Tom's mustache during the ten minute scrub session.
The zoo proved to be quite fun although as soon as I walked through the gates I realized the absurdity of my visit. Gazing and gawking at indigenous African animals held behind their iron cages and bulletproof glass cages seemed odd considering I was actually in Africa and could actually go and see these creatures in their natural habitat. Why travel half way across the globe to see caged African animals when they roam freely a few hundred kilometers drive away? (side note - I am getting sick and tired of adapting to the un-American measurements that the rest of the world apparently uses. I realize I have to adapt sooner or later but converting to centigrade and meters is harder than jerking off a cheetah with a handful of tacks in a phone booth) It didn't help that the lions, rhinos, elephants and cheetahs looked more doped up on sleeping pills than Heath Ledger (too soon, yeah, you're probably right) and rightfully so. I imagine that they were not only depressed, but kicked in the balls pissed off that they were so close to home yet stuck in captivity for the enjoyment of lazy tourists.
Instead of sulking in the realization of my situation, I decided to make sure Tom had the best "sick day" possible. Not a hard task considering his sheer excitement at every animal cage we passed, but I made sure to rent a golf cart, have two rounds of ice cream and ride carnival rides until our stomachs hurt. A great day but I couldn't help wondering how much more fun it would have been had I let Tom display his blue mustache to the public.
Soweto Bicycle Tour
For my last weekend in Johannesburg I reserved myself a spot on a 4-hour bicycle of Soweto. Seeing as I had spent a majority of my time in the city's suburbs with an occasional visit into the city, I felt that I had not experienced the lifestyle that a large minority of South Africans face. Soweto is also so important historically and culturally that missing it would have left a huge void in my trip. Not to say that a four hour tour would qualify me as an expert in what it means to live in a township, but I would at least develop a greater understanding of a culture I had only read about in books.
Immediately upon hitting the turbulent pavement of Soweto, I appreciated being on a bicycle rather than a traditional air conditioned Land Rover tour of the township. I was able to not only receive an informative, personal tour from two life long Sowetans, but being on a bike enabled me to acutely experience township life through all five of my senses without the barricade of an automatic car window. Our tour took as to the traditional highlights of Mandela's and Desmond Tutu's home and the Hector Pieterson Memoria but we also stopped at a local Sowetan burger joint (even though the burger we ate resembled nothing of a quarter pounder with cheese), a shabeen (watering hole) and one of the shopping malls in the area. I did not anticipate the level of development in Soweto and certainly did not expect to see malls complete with banks, fast food joints and Pick n' Pay grocery stores as well as BMW's and Mercedes speeding down the main roads. Yes, an alarmingly high level of poverty of which I had never seen before persists throughout the township, but parts of Soweto have achieved levels of wealth I previously thought unimaginable. Whether or not that misconception can be blamed on my ignorance, I think a large population of people would have shared in my discovery.
The highlight of the trip, which would be hard to pinpoint because there were many memorable moments (beer and pool at The Shack, standing next to where Mandela used to live), had to have been our first stop and my introduction to a traditional breakfast and drink. Oliver and Tobela led me and Mark (the only other tourists, a fifty year old guy from Holland that lived in apartheid SA for five years) to a rusted tin shack in the middle of Sowetan hostel. We were beckoned into the dilapidated structure and told to sit along one of the wooden benches positioned along the walls. When my eyes adjusted to the dark scenery, I notice that Oliver and Tobela were no longer present, replaced instead by a group of elderly men ranging from fifty to seventy (although I wouldn't have been surprised if one or more claimed to be ninety) and a swarming throng of flies. Although awkward at first, soon enough the group of men began asking us questions about where we were from and were more than happy to tell us about their lives and what they were up to. Then the food came.
Oliver comes in with two medium sized plastic buckets full to the brim with some kind of stale white liquid. He then drops to one knee and goes into detail about the porridge and homemade beer we were about to share. The porridge is similar to pap, a popular South Africa dish that to me best resembles a stiff, congealed bowl of grits, except that it has more of an oatmeal consistency as well as acrid taste. I tried my best to take a large gulp but it tasted pretty foul and certainly did not sit in my stomach well. Next up to drink and pass around the circle was a homemade beer which I was greatly in need of to wash down and get rid of the porridge taste festering on my taste buds. Although it wasn't a great beer, it hit the spot and I took two huge gulps before passing it along. I credit my college years of drinking Natty Light to being able to enjoy this brew because thats kind of what it reminded me of except a little thinker. Not a beer pong beer by any means. But regardless of how each drink tasted, the best part was the communal aspect of our drinking and the converstions we shared. Not an experience I ever thought I would have but one I would easily do again.
Below are a few pictures from the trip. Taking pictures while riding a bike is ridiculous hard but I managed to snap a few good ones.
So as not to ramble on too much further, here are a few other pictures and highlights of time in Johannesburg:
Trip to Constitutional Court
South Africa's equivalent to the US Supreme Court, the recently constructed Constitutional Court resides very close to downtown Johannesburg and was built on the same site as the Old Fort turned jail that kept prisoners during apartheid. When I went for my tour I was fortunate enough to not only be in a group all by myself but I had one of the best tour guides I have ever had. Lekota was extremely knowledgeable about the history of the prison that held Mandela and Gandhi and answered all my questions expertly. The Court itself is beautiful, built with some of the same bricks used in the Awaiting Blocks for prisoners of the old jail and decorated with lots of local artwork. Below is a picture of me and Lekota infront of the court where all the judges preside.
Maropeng - Cradle of Humankind
Really cool museum and caves located about an hour outside of Johannesburg. This is where the oldest hominid fossil was ever found and the museum covers this discovery as well as give a good history of the Earth's formation and evolution of life. The caves were a nice respite from the humid temperature of the day even though the tour itself wasn't all that exciting.
I could have written about so many more experiences (like being razzed by a famous South African comedian at his show for being the one American in a crowd of a couple hundred) but I have to end this post sometime. Next up I'll cover my luxury train ride and first weekend in Cape Town.
Cheers
Sunday, March 15, 2009
From Boot to Cock to Mouth (And mom, don't worry, I didn't get arrested and have to bribe the police with sexual favors)
Johannesburg has been treating me great so far. I have been able to see most of the major attractions the city has to offer and am constantly learning about the country's culture and history from a variety of different people and perspectives. However, my most entertaining/never-thought-I'd-see-this experience came after attending a local university rugby game.
Paul, the dad of the family I am staying with, works at a financial consulting company called Vestac that he and another guy started six or seven years ago. They seem to be doing pretty well (check above house pictures for verification) and he invited me to his office on Monday afternoon to show me around the place. It was incredible to see how many clients Vestac works with seeing that only two people run the company although it did not come as too much of a surprise because Paul may be one of the smartest people I have ever met. Anyways, back to the story, Paul also employs a university student part time to help with some of the busy work around the office. Byron and I went out to get lunch for the office and before I left he invited Paul and I to his rugby match on Wednesday and then for me to go out for beers with the team following the game. I was pumped seeing as a) rugby is one of the most popular sports in SA and I need to start learning more about it b) as great as Paul and Marion have been I was desperately in need of hanging out with people my age and not watching the Disney channel with their eight year old son Tom and c) I've heard rugby players like to drink and I had yet to experience Jo-Burg's pub life (I ended up going out to high end club on Tuesday but that's a different story).
Paul, Sam (their 15 year old son) and I went to the rugby stadium at University of Witwatersrand to watch Byron's team Commerce take on the Medics. Byron is part of a league within the university where each of the different graduate programs (here called faculties) have a team and play against each other. The stands were around half full but it was the first time since being in Johannesburg that I was around a racially mixed crowd. Fans were grouped in bunches cheering for their respective teams and I noticed a beer in nearly every persons hand.
Byron's team won convincingly 19-0 although it was hard for me to declare a winner after watching both teams beat the shit out of each other for 80 minutes. I was surprised there were not more injuries due to the brutality of the match but I guess one guy being sent to the emergency to check for a broken collar bone isn't all that unusual. Bottom line: fun sport to watch, drinking is encouraged as a spectator, have no desire to play it myself.
I wasn't sure when the festivities would commence and certainly did not expect to have a beer in hand ten minutes after the final whistle blew. Paul and Sam said their goodbyes and before I knew it I found myself surrounded by twenty guys from Byron's rugby team, two flats of beer (recently purchased from the stadium vendor), and sitting almost directly in the middle of the stands. The tradition of "fines" was soon to commence.
I'm still not sure if "fines" is something performed after every South African rugby game or if Byron's team just had a drinking problem, but the rules of the game were soon detailed and the games had begun. After assuring everyone had a side beer, the captain of the team would call down groups of two to five players depending on position and they would stand before the team each with beer in hand. The captain would then call out each of them out one by one and the rest of team would nominate them with a "fine". A fine could be anything from a recognition for a good tackle or run, or, as more commonly applied, an acknowledgment of when somebody played poorly or made an ass out of themselves. Basically, a time to cheer or jeer your teammates that usually resulted in a brutally honest insult followed by the rest of the team laughing uncontrollable (for instance, the team thought it especially funny when, during my moment in the spotlight, I was given a fine for being an American). Once everyone in the group was given their respective fines, the captain would pick a player from the stands to lead the rest of the team in various raunchy songs (the subject matter ranged from "sticking it in your grandmother" to having sex with a baboon) while those recently fined had to chug their beer. This was performed over and over until everyone had been called to the front and assessed their fines.
Now, as most good drinking games go, the rules change the longer the game continues and more beer is consumed. Instead of just chugging beer after the end of your fines session, the captain may propose for you to drink another beer for any reason that comes to mind (drinking to slow, spilling, breathing) and would take his proposition to vote, all of which resulted in an overwhelming "YEY!" from the team. But the funniest evolution of "fines" dealt with how you drink your beer, because just chugging would soon not suffice.
The captain introduced "left, right, left" to one of the bigger players on the team, meaning he had a beer in each hand and had to drink from the hand everyone was yelling at him to drink from. "Fines" even included a grueling relay race up and down the bleachers with beers to chug at the top and bottom and empty cans to be dodged from hurling teammates. With the first round of flats quickly demolished and a new round on the way, rules and order fell way to just drinking and, unfortunately, the captain calling for and the team echoing "boot to cock to mouth."
Some players already had the bad luck to have to drink a beer poured out of a recently played in, sweaty rugby boot, but the ante was taken up a notch when someone pulled out a beer bong with a red, white and blue dildo attached at the end. Apparently a recent addition to the "fines" meeting, players were instructed to get on their knees and take a beer poured from the athlete-foot infected boot, into the bong and out of the patriotic colored sex toy. Furthermore, guys taking the beer were encouraged to enhance the spectacle with the use of hands or facial expressions (sorry, you must use our imagination for this). No one was spared from the spectacle and each attempt seemed to garner a louder and louder applause from the team. And just like the rest of the meeting, all of this was performed in the middle of the stands, surrounded by hundreds of gawking spectators.
Following "fines" and me deciding that if all rugby matches ended like this maybe picking up the sport wouldn't be such a bad idea, the whole team went to a local pub called the Jolly Roger to continue in the festivities. I took full advantage of the dollar to rand conversion rate and made sure to buy beers for the team in thanks for letting me tag along for their post game rituals.
I will be leaving for Cape Town on Thursday but will make sure to give a post about the rest of things I have been doing in Johannesburg. I'll try and include my attendance at a local comedians one man act where I was singled out for being American as well as the perils of traveling with a mustache. Hope everyone is well and emails are always appreciated.
Paul, the dad of the family I am staying with, works at a financial consulting company called Vestac that he and another guy started six or seven years ago. They seem to be doing pretty well (check above house pictures for verification) and he invited me to his office on Monday afternoon to show me around the place. It was incredible to see how many clients Vestac works with seeing that only two people run the company although it did not come as too much of a surprise because Paul may be one of the smartest people I have ever met. Anyways, back to the story, Paul also employs a university student part time to help with some of the busy work around the office. Byron and I went out to get lunch for the office and before I left he invited Paul and I to his rugby match on Wednesday and then for me to go out for beers with the team following the game. I was pumped seeing as a) rugby is one of the most popular sports in SA and I need to start learning more about it b) as great as Paul and Marion have been I was desperately in need of hanging out with people my age and not watching the Disney channel with their eight year old son Tom and c) I've heard rugby players like to drink and I had yet to experience Jo-Burg's pub life (I ended up going out to high end club on Tuesday but that's a different story).
Paul, Sam (their 15 year old son) and I went to the rugby stadium at University of Witwatersrand to watch Byron's team Commerce take on the Medics. Byron is part of a league within the university where each of the different graduate programs (here called faculties) have a team and play against each other. The stands were around half full but it was the first time since being in Johannesburg that I was around a racially mixed crowd. Fans were grouped in bunches cheering for their respective teams and I noticed a beer in nearly every persons hand.
Byron's team won convincingly 19-0 although it was hard for me to declare a winner after watching both teams beat the shit out of each other for 80 minutes. I was surprised there were not more injuries due to the brutality of the match but I guess one guy being sent to the emergency to check for a broken collar bone isn't all that unusual. Bottom line: fun sport to watch, drinking is encouraged as a spectator, have no desire to play it myself.
I wasn't sure when the festivities would commence and certainly did not expect to have a beer in hand ten minutes after the final whistle blew. Paul and Sam said their goodbyes and before I knew it I found myself surrounded by twenty guys from Byron's rugby team, two flats of beer (recently purchased from the stadium vendor), and sitting almost directly in the middle of the stands. The tradition of "fines" was soon to commence.
I'm still not sure if "fines" is something performed after every South African rugby game or if Byron's team just had a drinking problem, but the rules of the game were soon detailed and the games had begun. After assuring everyone had a side beer, the captain of the team would call down groups of two to five players depending on position and they would stand before the team each with beer in hand. The captain would then call out each of them out one by one and the rest of team would nominate them with a "fine". A fine could be anything from a recognition for a good tackle or run, or, as more commonly applied, an acknowledgment of when somebody played poorly or made an ass out of themselves. Basically, a time to cheer or jeer your teammates that usually resulted in a brutally honest insult followed by the rest of the team laughing uncontrollable (for instance, the team thought it especially funny when, during my moment in the spotlight, I was given a fine for being an American). Once everyone in the group was given their respective fines, the captain would pick a player from the stands to lead the rest of the team in various raunchy songs (the subject matter ranged from "sticking it in your grandmother" to having sex with a baboon) while those recently fined had to chug their beer. This was performed over and over until everyone had been called to the front and assessed their fines.
Now, as most good drinking games go, the rules change the longer the game continues and more beer is consumed. Instead of just chugging beer after the end of your fines session, the captain may propose for you to drink another beer for any reason that comes to mind (drinking to slow, spilling, breathing) and would take his proposition to vote, all of which resulted in an overwhelming "YEY!" from the team. But the funniest evolution of "fines" dealt with how you drink your beer, because just chugging would soon not suffice.
The captain introduced "left, right, left" to one of the bigger players on the team, meaning he had a beer in each hand and had to drink from the hand everyone was yelling at him to drink from. "Fines" even included a grueling relay race up and down the bleachers with beers to chug at the top and bottom and empty cans to be dodged from hurling teammates. With the first round of flats quickly demolished and a new round on the way, rules and order fell way to just drinking and, unfortunately, the captain calling for and the team echoing "boot to cock to mouth."
Some players already had the bad luck to have to drink a beer poured out of a recently played in, sweaty rugby boot, but the ante was taken up a notch when someone pulled out a beer bong with a red, white and blue dildo attached at the end. Apparently a recent addition to the "fines" meeting, players were instructed to get on their knees and take a beer poured from the athlete-foot infected boot, into the bong and out of the patriotic colored sex toy. Furthermore, guys taking the beer were encouraged to enhance the spectacle with the use of hands or facial expressions (sorry, you must use our imagination for this). No one was spared from the spectacle and each attempt seemed to garner a louder and louder applause from the team. And just like the rest of the meeting, all of this was performed in the middle of the stands, surrounded by hundreds of gawking spectators.
Following "fines" and me deciding that if all rugby matches ended like this maybe picking up the sport wouldn't be such a bad idea, the whole team went to a local pub called the Jolly Roger to continue in the festivities. I took full advantage of the dollar to rand conversion rate and made sure to buy beers for the team in thanks for letting me tag along for their post game rituals.
I will be leaving for Cape Town on Thursday but will make sure to give a post about the rest of things I have been doing in Johannesburg. I'll try and include my attendance at a local comedians one man act where I was singled out for being American as well as the perils of traveling with a mustache. Hope everyone is well and emails are always appreciated.
Monday, March 9, 2009
My Inaugural Post
Greetings friends and family! Sorry that my first post has taken so long, I have been quite busy since leaving Seattle a little over a week ago but I have finally made it to South Africa and now have some free time to update you on all that's been going on. But before I get to SA, I must say a little something about my brief detour in London. inaugural
I would recommend visiting the city to anybody if you have the time and money because there is so much to see and do that you need to spend at least a few days there as well as be prepared to drop some serious dough. Bar tabs add up pretty quick in this town but but once you tell yourself you're only here for a few days, the beer will flow like wine. The city also has a ridiculous amount of tourist activities and if it makes me a nerd that I filled my days visiting museums, smirking at the proceedings of British Royalty and poking around old churches, then so be it. But as interesting as London was, I wouldn't have had the time that I did without my host Gemayal. It was nice enough that he put me up in his flat and insisted that I sleep in his bed while him on the couch, but he also took me out to some sweet bars, translated English english which is very different than english back home, and helped me get around the city when I was confused. His room mates were also great and had no problem putting up with me for my stay. I also got to hang out with my Uncle Rob and his family who recently moved to London. He has a one and a half year old son named Dillon and it was the first time I got to meet my cousin who, because he can't pronounce his own name, calls himself Ling Ling.
This picture was taken when I was on a river boat cruise along the Thames after the sun had just set. I think I took about fifty pictures of the Big Ben considering I have been wanting to see it ever since my grandmother gave me a Big Ben puzzle when I was four (and subsequently, every year after I have received some sort of Big Ben gift). I was bummed that I didn't get to go in the tower but nonetheless, still in awe.
This next picture was taken at one of my favorite tourist attractions in London even though I had never read of it before I accidentally stumbled upon it on my way to the National Art Museum. The Texas Embassy Cantina, located in the heart of London, is a Texas themed restaurant that served as my oasis in the middle of a full day of touring. The story goes (check their website to be accurate) when Texas was an independent republic, a few Texans visited London and established an embassy. England wanted Texas to remain independent forever and offered to defend the country when need be but eventually Texas became a state and the embassy closed in 1845. Now this restaurant stands as a memorial to this unlikely friendship but more importantly it provided me with a home away from home. The restaurant was decked out in all kinds of Texas decor, had only Budweiser on tap and was even showing a Duke/Virginia Tech basketball game, a novelty considering US sporting events are hard to come by outside of the country.
But after all the London sight seeing and bar hopping, Thursday evening rolled around and I was off to Heathrow for a ten hour flight to Johannesburg. The flight wasn't bad at all considering the couple I was sitting with moved two hours into the flight and I could stretch out on the entire row and before I knew it I was going through customs at the Johannesburg airport.
While in Johannesburg I would be staying with family friends Paul and Marion, and their three children, Sam 15, Jo 10 and Thomas 8 (I think). I know these people because when Marion went to study in the US during college, she lived with my grand parents in Texas. I had only met her once before when she and Paul visited my family when we lived in D.C. but I was so young I barely remember. Their visit coincided with my fifth birthday and she still has pictures of that day, me wearing a full on Ninja Turtle outfit and cake smeared all over my face.
When I arrived at the airport, Paul and Marion had sent their driver Edward to pick me up. I had never been picked up by a driver at an airport before and it was pretty cool, even if the sign read "Ben O'Neill." We loaded my bags in the car and drove to Paul and Marion's home located a little less than a half hour from the airport and fairly close to down town Johannesburg in a suburb called Houghton. I knew they lived in a nice place but I didn't realize how nice until I got there. I've attached a few pictures of their beautiful home but a picture really doesn't do it justice to how nice this place is. One of the best parts is the view off of their backyard, a sweeping panoramic looking north over a forest, spanning miles and miles.
In my next blog, which I promise won't take as long to post as this first one did, I'll include more of the things I have been doing since I've been in Johannesburg. Today I'm off to the Apartheid Museum and later this week I'll be doing a bike tour of Soweto. I hope this post finds everybody healthy and well, and if you get a chance any updates through email would be great.
I would recommend visiting the city to anybody if you have the time and money because there is so much to see and do that you need to spend at least a few days there as well as be prepared to drop some serious dough. Bar tabs add up pretty quick in this town but but once you tell yourself you're only here for a few days, the beer will flow like wine. The city also has a ridiculous amount of tourist activities and if it makes me a nerd that I filled my days visiting museums, smirking at the proceedings of British Royalty and poking around old churches, then so be it. But as interesting as London was, I wouldn't have had the time that I did without my host Gemayal. It was nice enough that he put me up in his flat and insisted that I sleep in his bed while him on the couch, but he also took me out to some sweet bars, translated English english which is very different than english back home, and helped me get around the city when I was confused. His room mates were also great and had no problem putting up with me for my stay. I also got to hang out with my Uncle Rob and his family who recently moved to London. He has a one and a half year old son named Dillon and it was the first time I got to meet my cousin who, because he can't pronounce his own name, calls himself Ling Ling.
This picture was taken when I was on a river boat cruise along the Thames after the sun had just set. I think I took about fifty pictures of the Big Ben considering I have been wanting to see it ever since my grandmother gave me a Big Ben puzzle when I was four (and subsequently, every year after I have received some sort of Big Ben gift). I was bummed that I didn't get to go in the tower but nonetheless, still in awe.
This next picture was taken at one of my favorite tourist attractions in London even though I had never read of it before I accidentally stumbled upon it on my way to the National Art Museum. The Texas Embassy Cantina, located in the heart of London, is a Texas themed restaurant that served as my oasis in the middle of a full day of touring. The story goes (check their website to be accurate) when Texas was an independent republic, a few Texans visited London and established an embassy. England wanted Texas to remain independent forever and offered to defend the country when need be but eventually Texas became a state and the embassy closed in 1845. Now this restaurant stands as a memorial to this unlikely friendship but more importantly it provided me with a home away from home. The restaurant was decked out in all kinds of Texas decor, had only Budweiser on tap and was even showing a Duke/Virginia Tech basketball game, a novelty considering US sporting events are hard to come by outside of the country.
But after all the London sight seeing and bar hopping, Thursday evening rolled around and I was off to Heathrow for a ten hour flight to Johannesburg. The flight wasn't bad at all considering the couple I was sitting with moved two hours into the flight and I could stretch out on the entire row and before I knew it I was going through customs at the Johannesburg airport.
While in Johannesburg I would be staying with family friends Paul and Marion, and their three children, Sam 15, Jo 10 and Thomas 8 (I think). I know these people because when Marion went to study in the US during college, she lived with my grand parents in Texas. I had only met her once before when she and Paul visited my family when we lived in D.C. but I was so young I barely remember. Their visit coincided with my fifth birthday and she still has pictures of that day, me wearing a full on Ninja Turtle outfit and cake smeared all over my face.
When I arrived at the airport, Paul and Marion had sent their driver Edward to pick me up. I had never been picked up by a driver at an airport before and it was pretty cool, even if the sign read "Ben O'Neill." We loaded my bags in the car and drove to Paul and Marion's home located a little less than a half hour from the airport and fairly close to down town Johannesburg in a suburb called Houghton. I knew they lived in a nice place but I didn't realize how nice until I got there. I've attached a few pictures of their beautiful home but a picture really doesn't do it justice to how nice this place is. One of the best parts is the view off of their backyard, a sweeping panoramic looking north over a forest, spanning miles and miles.
In my next blog, which I promise won't take as long to post as this first one did, I'll include more of the things I have been doing since I've been in Johannesburg. Today I'm off to the Apartheid Museum and later this week I'll be doing a bike tour of Soweto. I hope this post finds everybody healthy and well, and if you get a chance any updates through email would be great.
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