New Digs

I moved into my flat on November 6th. It’s perfect- big enough for me and small enough to keep me from being tempted to bring home a puppy. Debbie and Phil helped me move the impressive amount of stuff I’ve somehow accumulated (did you know I like to shop? I really, really do.) and Craig had everything set up and ready for me. Terri-Lee was there when I arrived and offered to take me to Checkers and Spar to get anything else I might need. I said I needed everything- the only food I brought were some Butterfingers that an American friend sent me. She and Debbie said I should check my cupboards.

Apparently a collection was taken up at the college to make sure I would have everything I could possibly need right off the bat. I hadn’t expected that at all. There were pots and pans, cleaning supplies, towels, bug spray, dishes, tons of food and candy (“chocolates”), clothes hangers, a tv, an iron- even three wine glasses to go with THREE bottles of wine. They had thought of everything I would need before I even considered it. And since it was all there already set up all I had to do was unpack my bags and it looked like a home. It only took me about an hour and a half and everything was done.

A lot of people from the college live in the area. After I finished unpacking I went for a practice drive in the college car and made it all the way to Terri-Lee and Michael’s house 3 or 4 blocks away without stalling.

So. Next step: driving.

Cycle Challenge Sunday

My thoughts throughout Sunday, the day of the 97.4 km (60.5 mile) bike race:

5 a.m. – awake, terrified.

6:30 a.m. – Debbie, Phil, Terri-Lee, Kerry, Aiden, Skyla and I leave for Sandton

8:30 a.m. – Phil and I say goodbye to the rest of the group and make it 5km up to the starting point. His start time is before mine, so we split up.

9:38 a.m. – My start time... still terrified, but laughing because I signed up for this horrible torture voluntarily.

10:15 a.m. – Stop for 30 seconds to eat half a granola bar and to think, “Surely the end of the (all uphill) highway portion is near...”

10:30 a.m. - YAY the end of the highway!

10:32 a.m. - WHAT? Another STEEPER hill? DOES THIS RACE END ON THE TOP OF MOUNT EVEREST?

10:40 a.m. - Isn’t there a water point somewhere? Pain. Ow.

10:43 a.m. - Someone rammed his bike into mine and messed up my bike chain. Fixed it myself. Feeling industrious.

11 a.m. – Back on another highway. Uphill, of course. Just make it to Mandela Bridge. I just want to ride across Mandela Bridge.

11:15 a.m. – Some lady decided that it would be a good idea to walk in the road with thousands of cyclists, stick her umbrella out in front of me and then open it. Almost took us both out.

11:20 a.m. – YAY the Bridge! Just make it to Gandhi Square. I just want to ride through the Square.

11:25 a.m. – YAY the Square! Just make it to see Debbie, Kerry, Terri-Lee and the kids at the spectator point.

11:49 a.m. - Look! Free candy from strangers! (Bar One was a sponsor.) Too bad I'm going too fast to grab some.

11:50 a.m. – Hey! There's Terri-Lee and Skyla yelling for me; there's Debbie and Aiden, too. Very cool. Okay, just keep going.

12:17 p.m. – Agh, choking on Powerade. This is the worst decision I’ve ever made.

12:20 p.m. – I’m halfway through? Seriously? AWESOME. I can FINISH.

12:25 p.m. – Big hill. No way I can finish. Just keep going. Ow.

12:38 p.m. – 3 hours! Wow! Cool. I didn’t think I’d make it this far.

12:45 p.m. – Pain. Leg cramps. Pain. Big hill. Ow. Even 1st gear is difficult. Envying spectators.

12:50 p.m. – 58 km. Ow, ow, ow. Lady said I’m only 2 minutes ahead of the cut off time. Gotta hurry.

1 p.m. – THAT IS THE BIGGEST HILL I’VE EVER SEEN. Forget it. I’m going to catch a ride back to the start from the last water point.

1:30 p.m. – Wait? THIS is the cut off time for this water point? I had plenty of time! Arg.

3:20 p.m. – Looking at the hills for the last 38 km from the bus, I think quitting was the right choice.

3:31 p.m. – Terri-Lee texted to say that they can’t get through the road blocks. Gonna have to bike the last 5 km to where they’re parked. This is a joke?

3:35 p.m. – Not a joke.

3:52 p.m. – Biking back to where they’re parked. Can’t complain since I’ve had a 2.5 hour break. Phil actually finished the race and biked back.

5 p.m. – Celebratory dinner with Debbie, Phil, Terri-Lee, Kerry and the kids at Spur. No one has eaten today (though I had a banana and 2 granola bars on the road). Everyone smells nasty.

6:30 p.m. – Home! Shower! Wine! Bed!



Now I know I can make it 60 km with no training. So maybe next year I can train and actually finish. It was wonderful to have people on the sidelines cheering. I'm very thankful to all of them.

My legs are a little sore and swollen today and I've been having weird muscle twitching, but otherwise I've come out of the race unscathed. Maybe next year I'll take along a disposible camera and take photos of these impossible hills and all of the spectators with their funny signs (lots of free tequila along the route... I don't think there were many takers. It's just not something you want when you're already worried about falling over). And I'll take photos of the crowds of cyclists. It's amazing that there weren't more accidents. They sent us off in groups of 200 - 400 every 4 minutes for 4.5 hours. There were over 26,000 cyclists competing. 6,000 had never done the race before.

Also, thanks to Terri-Lee I now have internet at home! Very slow internet, yes, but that should be fixed in about 3 weeks. Just in time for Christmas holidays. :)

Cape Town

Things I did in Cape Town:
Saw penguins
Saw Table Mountain (I had no inclination to go up in the cable car)
Saw Kaylitscha
Swam with a penguin (just one)
Walked around Simon's Town
Shopped in Simon's Town
Went hiking at the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point
Saw baboons
Swam with baboons (okay, I made that one up)
Visited Robben Island (definitely worth it)
Went shopping at the waterfront
Walked around to Stellenbosch
Shopped in Stellenbosch
Realized the car was broken into in Stellenbosch

And what was Callie's response to learning that her rental car had been broken into and all of our things had been rifled through?
We did a winetasting at the first vineyard we could find.
That's why Callie is an excellent person to go on vacation with.

Cape Town bonus: Their airport had Butterfingers.
I'm very glad to be back in Johannesburg, though.

The Big Deal with the Dishes

I’m reprimanded about once a week for washing the dishes. And it’s not just one person that warns me to stay away from the sink- Debbie, Phil, Kerry, Terri-Lee, Michael, Shane, Tyron, Wendy and Mpho have all discouraged me from cleaning. Most homes I’ve been to have domestic workers / maids who come a few days a week to clean. The college employs a woman who cleans up after all of us and who very nicely brings me tea every morning. With a sardonic grin, people tell me that I’m threatening job security.

I’ve stubbornly resisted adapting to having someone else do the dishes and make my bed. Those who know me well can easily imagine the scene that takes place every other Saturday when Terri-Lee catches me in her kitchen. I used to sneak away from the group outside and man the sink with soap and a sponge, but sneaking isn’t necessary anymore. Everyone knows where I am. There’s still a mini-stand off of stubbornness between myself and whomever finds me until I promise that I will just finish this one last thing and leave the rest. Debbie and Phil aren’t as easily conned. When they call out, “Kristine, what are you doing?” And I yell back, “Nothing,” they know that ‘nothing’ is code for ‘the dishes.’

So, what’s the big deal with the dishes? It seems silly until you recognize that six months ago I was in school, working full-time at an internship, helping with the kids, and cleaning the house about once a week. I had a car and plenty of friends that I could visit whenever I wanted to. I had my own room and all of my possessions. I depended on others but I didn’t need too much help with the basic necessities. I was fairly independent.

The total dependence on others has been the hardest thing about moving to South Africa. I’m still not entirely comfortable with driving a stick shift, so I depend on others to take me wherever I need or want to go. Most of my meals are prepared for me and with my vegetarianism in mind. My flat isn’t ready, so I depend on Debbie and Phil for a place to live. Almost everything I own is still in Texas. Instead of dozens of friends to visit, I now have a few and even those I’ve only known for less than three months.

This is not to say that anyone has made me feel anything less than welcome- everyone I have met has been incredibly hospitable and I am more grateful than I could ever express. And I love South Africa. I can honestly rate coming here as one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. But total dependence doesn’t come easily to me.

And somehow I have equated total dependence with dirty dishes.

I doubt it will be such a big deal to me in a few months when I have my own flat and can adequately drive a car (though I’m sure I’ll still avoid roundabouts like the plague). For now, I’ll wash the dishes.

Towards a Better Future

I've never really believed in the Devil. At least, not as a being or force that sets events into motion in the world. Evil, maybe, is an idea I could wrap my mind around, but even that... I don't know. It's probably the product of being brought up in the U.S. where the American dream is believed to be achievable despite all of the socioeconomic evidence to the contrary. Kids in the U.S. are told that they can achieve almost anything if they work hard enough, so the idea that something intangible can come and invalidate all that you have worked for is difficult to imagine. That was a tangent.

What I mean to say is that I never truly believed in evil as a force of its own, but as I was sitting in the girls’ group last Friday I thought about changing that view.

I was SO excited to help lead a group with Talia and Debbie for teen girls from the church. The last time this group met I hadn't even been in South Africa for 2 weeks, so I was more of an observer. That group was on rape and sexual abuse, which was a heavy topic that was handled very well. It was clear from that meeting that the next one needed to deal with self-esteem and self-image. I had a few ideas for this group and I was eager to see how they were received. The group was significantly smaller, probably because we kept changing the date and because some of the girls were in Soweto for the afternoon, but it turned out to be better that way.

We did an activity where we drew our faces on a paper plate and then wrote something we liked about ourselves. We passed our plates around and everyone wrote something nice about everyone else. One girl seemed to be having trouble coming up with things she liked about herself. Debbie asked what we thought God saw when looking at us, and this girl replied that she thought God saw in her someone who could do so much but doesn’t; someone who is always disappointing others. She started crying.

We had to wrap up the group about 15 minutes later. Debbie talked to the girl afterward; Talia and I were waiting nearby for our turn to reassure her. This girl is one of the nicest I’ve met. At church she’s always surrounded by friends and is perennially smiling. She never fails to say hello to me, and to give me a hug.

She believes that because most of her family has died, it must be some kind of reflection on her- some divine retribution for something she has done wrong. I can’t imagine that God would want her to feel so worthless.

It’s not uncommon here to meet children whose parents have been killed. It’s also not uncommon to meet children living with friends, distant relatives or strangers because their parents take out their frustrations over an unfair life on their children. And there are children who are abandoned, taken in by people with big hearts and crowded homes. It has created a legacy of broken spiritedness that is devastating to see. A psychological oppression has taken over the void left by the abolishment of physical oppression in apartheid.

This week two more people I know have attempted/committed suicide. It was horribly overwhelming and made Texas seem very far away from South Africa. And that’s why I’m putting up these two toll-free suicide hotline numbers, one for South Africa and one for the U.S.

South Africa: 0800-567-567

U.S.: 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433)

It seems impossible that no one noticed something was wrong. Maybe the person that noticed didn’t take it seriously. Maybe they didn’t want to get involved. Maybe they thought there was nothing they could do to help or that the person was ‘too far gone’ for anything they said to matter. That’s like saying, “His leg is broken. Might as well chop it off.”

Please don’t ignore or write off suicidal behaviors and speech. It’s a myth that people that talk about suicide don’t actually follow through. Actually, most people that commit suicide have told someone about their plans. Suicide is preventable and depression is treatable.

To quote a friend, “even in the complete and total valley moments, it's important to remember that things do get better.” If you or someone you know is depressed or suicidal, please seek help. Texas and South Africa shouldn’t feel so far apart.

October 4th

It’s my first birthday in South Africa and it has been a very nice day thus far. Debbie and Phil came in singing Happy Birthday at 6 a.m. while I was making my bed and handed me very lovely birthday gifts. Everyone at the college sang Happy Birthday to me throughout the day in a variety of languages and presented me with a card that I will keep in the future to prove to Mellina that we are indeed friends (which she will try to deny to no avail).

Tomorrow there’s going to be a braai (BBQ) at Debbie and Phil’s house for all of us with October birthdays. We’re expecting 8 people and 2 kids, and a full half of us have birthdays this month.

I did my best to drag out my birthday weekend by being lazy. I stayed with Terri-Lee (Debbie and Phil’s daughter) and Michael (Terri-Lee’s husband) from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon. They took me to my first South African pub and introduced me to some of their friends, all of whom are very friendly. On Saturday Terri-Lee and I lay out by the pool and read books. Then she got ready to host a poike (like a braai, only with a slow-cooked stew instead of grilling). The friends that had come to the pub came over to watch rugby, talk and eat. Sunday was quiet. Terri-Lee took me back to Debbie and Phil’s house and we ate outside and watched tv all afternoon.

I was going to say that I wasted a lot of time this weekend, but that’s not true. It’s very hard to “waste” time in South Africa because everyone is so generous with it, if that makes sense. It’s a strange concept to explain until you experience it. Time seems less scarce here; there isn’t as much of a rush. Lying by the pool makes for less of a wasted Saturday and more of a well-spent one. After all, what better way is there to spend a beautiful spring Saturday?

Let's see if the pictures will work.

These three pics took forever to load, so this is all you get for a while. Even though these were all taken before I chopped half my hair off.

The first picture is of Kerry Ann, Terri-Lee, myself and Debbie. I'm staying with Debbie and her husband, Phil, until my flat is ready. Kerri Ann and Terri-Lee are their daughters. Debbie and Terri-Lee work at the college.

The second picture is me introducing my banana-ballerina to the girls' group. It was the icebreaker.

The third is my hand being chewed on by a ferocious lion. It was a month ago and the bruises have just disappeared and the scratches have just healed. Definitely worth it. The lion cubs were adorable.