November 17-23: Durban

The Intl Studs on one of our last nights. I miss them already!

Hello Lovelies!

It's been a while, and there are many (mis)adventures to report. But first, a word on final exams. Final exams here (and pretty much everywhere else except the US) are spanned over the course of a month, and that is because it is worth A WHOLE LOAD OF YOUR GRADE. So, naturally, I barely studied. results are posted on Dec 19th; we'll see if I passed anything.

After my final final on Nov 14, I headed off for a week in Durban with the ladies. My goodbye to Grahamstown was bittersweet. On one hand, I successfully finished two Jam Jars (among other libations), spent my last night in Friar's (good riddance!), and tipsy-snuggled with my good pals late into the night, but on the other, somebody stole my leather jacket. Thankfully, my money, phone, and knife were in my boots (best investment ever), but the bastards got my lipstick. I still miss that lipstick. There's a special level of hell for people like that.

In the morning (4 hours later), I blearily carried all of my stuff (ALL OF IT) out of Res, held back tears to say goodbye to sweet, dear Gemma, met up with Deike, and schlepped my sorry still-drunk ass to the bus station. Deike and I were pretty sure that the world was about to end when the bus showed up TEN MINUTES EARLY and we left ON TIME. IT'S A MIRACLE, HALLELUJAH! Or a sign of the apocalypse. Either way, we gleefully got on the bus for a 14-hour ride, most of which I spent sleeping off my hangover.

This is what Durban should look like. However, while we were there, it was raining most the time and a little sad-looking.

We arrived in Durban at close to midnight, scoped out our hostel, and chatted with some locals before collapsing exhausted into the most uncomfortable beds ever. The next day… Oh the next day. We had been invited by the local people living in the hostel to attend the German Bierfest in town. Since Deike is German, and I have a slutty German barmaid dress, we hopped onto one of the local taxis with them. The local taxi system is all over South Africa and consists of minivans that will take you and 13 other random passengers to a certain common area in the city for 5 Rand. Very cheap, and if you know where you're going, very safe (except in JoBurg though). We got to the tacky tent, got ourselves liters of beer, tasted all and proceeded to have a grand ol' time. The pictures prove it, oh boy, they sure do.

Celine arrived the next day, and we hit the town. We went to the Victoria Market, where colorful vendors hawk even more colourful spices and beaded jewelry. Then, we took a taxi to Ushaka, the touristy Water World by the ocean, and scoped out the attractions. We had some of the delicious local fair: bunny chow.

Fun Fact: Durban is home to a large percent of ethnically Indians and is famous for the extra spicy food that has it's own South African twist.

Bunny chow is a South African, specifically Durban, dish which involves hollowing out a loaf of bread, dumping hotter than Heidi Klum curry into it, then setting the fluff from the middle of the bread on top, mimicking a bunny's tail. It was a gloriously sunny day, and Durban's sun is notoriously as hot as it's cuisine, so we cooled down with a walk on the beach. We walked the entire length of the beach in Durban and marveled at how warm the Indian Ocean is.

We had decided we had enough of our stuffy, slightly dirty hostel so we switched to another one that was right next to Florida road, a nice hub of nightlife. This one had free wifi and a hot Scottish man working at the counter who starting playing and singing beautifully along with Michael Bublé. Hot Damn. As Teresa and Siina joined us, we continued exploring the city. We were also planning on partying hearty, but after a long day of walking around in the sun, we ended up just coming home and crashing every night. Like the cool people we are. But never fear! We had fun as well. We spent a whole day at Ushaka going on the water slides, floating along on tubes, gaping at giant fish in the aquarium, watching schticky seal and dolphin shows, and adding to our sun burns. There were also very good-looking Aussies (as always), Thanksgiving Hookah, and your average shenanigans. After relaxing for a week together, I said goodbye to my dear Europeans and headed to the Durban Airport for a flight to JoBurg to meet up with the Sis. More on our adventures later! I am now in a Starbucks (!) in Heidelberg, Germany, so obviously, I have quite a bit to catch up on, but I promise I will... just now :P

My Life is Awesome

Disclaimer: none of these photos were taken by me. They were either purchased, googled, or stolen from my companions.

I am so exhausted. It's the kind of exhaustion that comes from running on no more than 4 hours of sleep at a time, adrenaline, and pure, unadulterated happiness. It started with the start of SWOT week. I've heard several variations as to what SWOT stands for (Study Without Teaching; Study, Work, or Travel), but for universities that have an entire month allocated for final exams (in every country except the USA), it's the week-long break between classes and the beginning of exams that students are supposed to use to study.

Naturally, the Intl Studs decided to travel instead.

We took a trip to Storms River, the town associated with tourist activities in Tsitsikamma National Park. The area is absolutely beautiful, on a wave-beaten rocky coast with iconic mountains to the north. It's very lush and green, with many springs and frequent enough rain making it an ideal spot for tree farms and a source for a water bottling company, which is kindof interesting because…

Google Image

Fun Fact: Storms River and the streams in the area are all dyed brown from the natural tannins in the plants of the area. So pretty much it means that the water all looks like strong tea or coffee. It's a little weird at first, but you get used to it. Even the ocean is stained brown at the mouth of the river.

Our encampment waiting in Grahamstown

We arrived at about half past 1 AM on Oct. 27 after the longest 4-hr bus ride ever during which our POS bus played loud more-than-slightly racist standup comedy sketches and weird PG-13 movies. As if it wasn't enough that the bus was two hours late and forced us to wait in the cold wind and rain.

Still, we were in good spirits as we were picked up by people from our hostel. There was William, the driver that the hostel regularly uses, who wore a sparkly silver-sequined fedora (always), assured us that he loved us, he loved God, and that "safety is first." However, I'm pretty sure he was a little drunk haha. Nonetheless, his driving that night and throughout the trip was impeccable, and never once did I doubt his skill. He was one of the many locals we met that were simply super cool. We were also picked up by Yolande (sp?), the coolest mom you will ever meet who was staying at the hostel with her 12-yr old daughter. They were celebrating her daughter's birthday in style with bungee-jumping, sky-diving, and other outdoors adventures. She had volunteered to come help drive us since we couldn't all fit . The next night, she would pay for me to get sufficiently sloshed at the hostel bar even though all the rest of the IntlStuds were in bed. More on that later. Just know that she was freakin cool.

These are the guys that work at Dijembe Backpackers, the place where we were staying: Severiano (Sev) and Gerhard.

Sev (Left) dishing out the Milk Tart Shots, Gerhard (right) dishing out the smiles

Sev is a local guy, half-Scottish and half whatever the hell he feels like. He helps with the river tours and keep Dijembe running. He is secretly a neat freak and not-so-secretly an adrenaline junkie, cajoles guests to sign up for activities, tinkers with electronics, and generally shows off like the cocky SOB that he is. I kinda like him.

Gerhard is your typical skateboard bum who doesn't want to have a real job and just wants to live his life, carefree. He is a knife appreciator; he recognised my Buck knife and said that it reminded him of his uncle with quite the collection. His passions include listening to other peoples' stories and telling his own, dicking around, and making inappropriate comments. A pretty awesome dude.

Jess spending some sun time w/ us

Baria and Gemma, snuggling

The other regulars include Brad, the owner, who borders on the edge of creepy once in a while but is overall a pretty chill guy; Helena, the German woman who, like many others, got "stuck in Storms River" when she fell in love with the place and has been there ever since; three beautiful horses Baby, Baria, and Gracie and a pony named Smeagol; three spunky dogs Tiger, his son Achmed (named by Sev for the Dead Terrorist), and an adorable little spaniel Jess; Patches the cat; at least two maids who make delicious home-style food and keep the hostel in tiptop condition among others.

So back to the first night. We got there at about 2 AM, and after a couple rounds of Lemon Drops (a sugar-coated lemon slice with a shot of vodka. Suck, Shot, and Slice.), which I abstained from due to having just barely recovered from a cold, we went straight to bed. We all agreed in the morning that it was the best night's sleep we have had in ages. It's sad when the bed in a hostel is better than the bed one has been sleeping in for the past few months. The next day, the group split up, five going mountain biking, the other five, myself included, laying around in the sun for the morning, getting sunburnt, doodling in henna, bantering with the staff, then going horseback riding in the afternoon.

It was great because the horses were just hanging out in the yard prior to our ride, so we got to hang out with them. Since I was the smallest person, I rode on Smeagol, the plucky grey pony who made up for his size in spunk and attitude. Apart from an incident when me speeding Smeagol up a hill spooked Gemma's horse and we both ended up on our bums and when Gemma's horse quit on her and rolled over her leg (no permanent injuries, thank goodness), it was a beautiful sunny jaunt through the woods, led by Brad, who was slightly judgemental at our lack of experience and vigour. After our nature ride, we were given the option of continuing through the township to a trail by the freeway. A few of the group were pooped, so only Anna and I continued. There were two kids on our ride, so I switched out Smeagol for Tracy (I think?), a beautiful almost-black gelding. We slowly rode along the tree farms, Sev on foot leading the pony, appreciating the gorgeous sunset. After spending almost four hours on the back of a horse, I was surprisingly not sore and full of energy when I made the most epic entrance at Dijembe, confidently trotting in on the back of a horse. Too bad the only photos from the day of me are on my short little pony :P.

After a delicious braai, we shot the breeze around the fire with the young German volunteers also staying there and hung out at the bar. Brad needed to make a liquor run to the township tavern to restock the bar, and on a whim, Wout, Bec, Merel, and I hopped in the back of the truck and went with him. The township in Storms River can barely count as a township. There is still poverty, and the living conditions are not as good as the nice villas and cottages in the town, but most the roads are well-paved, and according to Sev, the crime rate is almost nonexistent, which is believable. Apart from the quite drunk creeper who almost immediately approached me, proclaimed that he liked me, came on to me (I assume; I couldn't tell, it was slurred and half in Afrikaans), and tried to grab my arm, I didn't feel threatened at all. Also, those guys really know how to shoot pool.

Sadly enough, I'm completely sober in this pic

We got back, and the group headed to bed. I had stayed behind with some of the other guests and was chatting with Yolande, Camilla the Danish girl (Hey Nick, she goes to university in Aarhus!), and the female half of a honeymooning couple when Sev impishly locked the doors of the bar to keep all of us inside. I protested, siting my lack of cash and my date with the bungee cord in the morning and a desire to not be hung over while hanging upside down, but Yolande insisted. She gave me some sketchy looking white powder which turned out to be Grand-pa, a South African staple of crushed aspirin and caffeine which will apparently get rid of any hangover if taken before bed, and then paid for two glasses of wine and three Springbok shots.

Yeah. I woke up still a little drunk in the morning. I was a little nervous about jumping 216 meters with a headache, but thank goodness for South African Time, which runs slower, for I had a couple hours to recuperate. By the time Deike, Chloe, Bec, and I got the bridge, I was nervous about the drop but at 110% enthusiasm. We were joined by three German girls who looked terrified but seemed to appreciate the nervous energy and Yolande and her daughter, who were doing the jump for the second time after originally coming to watch and keep us company but then deciding that they couldn't be left out of the fun.

Bloukranz Bridge, World's Highest Bungee Bridge

Guys, it was So. Awesome. Check out the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8usYKAuOiYs. I look like a pro. Except strung out on coke. I was so nervous, but I knew the drill already because four of our group had already done the jump during spring vac. They had a DJ playing pumping music, a cool bunch of guys working the ropes who seemed confident, and a setup that didn't let you look over the edge until you got to your turn to jump. The worst part was the 218 meter catwalk alongside the bridge to get to the platform in the middle with wire grating that gave a little underfoot. I danced around the entire time; Deike and I are probably were in every person's video, rocking out and booty shaking in the background. I was the first of our group to go and determined to set a good example. I was surprised that when I got to the edge and looked down, I thought to myself "Oh, that's pretty," not "Holy Shit." It didn't even look real, more like a picture from National Geographic. I had no concept of how far down it was, even though I knew it was the world's highest bungee bridge. It was the initial split second when my toes left the concrete and I felt myself naturally tip head first that my heart went to my mouth and I had to hold my breath to keep myself from panicking. After the first bounce, which my eyes were shut tight for, I opened my eyes, felt the rush of adrenaline from escaping death and gave my best WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-Hoo! When I heard the amazing echo, I had to do it again and again. I arched my back to look around at the the distant ocean and the surrounding mountains and marvelled at the river of coffee below. There might be taller bungees from structures, but the man, I don't think they could possibly be more beautiful. I came back up exhilarated and enthusiastically reassured and cheered on the other jumpers. Aaaaaaand destroyed my newly-recovered voice. It's just gone now.

Google Image

We got back midday, and I joined a few of the group as well as two Dutch girls to zip line. It was great fun, and I was still hopped up from the bungee, but the experience was a little short-lived, with only 8 cables across a canyon formed by the river. Still, the views over the waterfalls were great, the staff lively and friendly, and the company good.

After a lovely dinner prepared by Gemma (she was head chef of the three dinners we cooked and did a marvelous job. I had missed good home-cooking), the group hung out at the bar. Ashley insisted that she wanted to go the tavern after hearing about our adventure the night before which she had missed due to a delayed bus. After the rest went to bed, Sev and Gerhard took Simon, Deike, Ashley and I to the tavern. Sev paid for all our alcohol (including the worst tequila of my life; I retched a little), Gerhard and the locals taught Simon what it looked like to get trounced at pool, and Sev's friends taught Deike, Ashley, and I how to dance to African music properly. Good times to be had by all. We walked back under a cloudless night sky with a ripe full moon. I rediscovered how it feels to run while drunk. Amazing.

Google Image

The next day was river tubing. Sev and another river guide (Jacques was his name, maybe?) took Wout, Ashley, Bec, Deike, Celine, and I as well as the Dutch girls and a travelling Spaniard from the hostel down Storm River's tiny rapids in individual tubes. The day was overcast, and it rained quite a bit, but we were wet anyway, the forest and the river were stunning, so we agreed that that had been the best way to spend a rainy day. My short stubby little arms struggled a little to keep up, but I muddled through. The wetsuits kept us warm enough on the river, but once we were out it was quite cold. Dijembe's wonderful hot monsoon-style shower felt really good afterward, as well as the provided hot chicken stew for lunch, which I ate like a starving madwoman. The rain wasn't letting up, so the group, along with an Italian-Brazilian diving instructor/lawyer living in Australia that we adopted, stayed in and watched movies in front of the fire all night.

The next day, we were due to leave on a bus at 16h00 but the bus company called us in the morning and told us it was delayed until 4AM the next morning. We weren't too pleased to have to stay awake all night, but Dijembe said it was no problem for us to just hang out until then. I don't know about the others, but I was secretly a little happy for an excuse to stay. Although the day was rainy again, we decided to make a group trip to the national park for a light walk around to check out the suspension bridges and the coast, which I hadn't seen there. Ten of us piled into William's chariot plus the Brazilian and a ridiculously tall Swiss man that we also adopted. It was a cramped trip, but we laughed and joked the entire way. The national park is gorgeous. We were at the mouth of the river, where all the tannin stains the ocean brown and makes kinda grody looking foam.

All these are Chloe's

There were some gorgeous views, and I did a little off-road exploring climbing around cliffs and up a waterfall. We took our sweet time, meandering about on and off the path, but when I got back I was devastated to discover that my trusty knife had unclipped from my waistband. 1 km of trail and my knife was floating about in the middle of it somewhere. I kept my head and sprinted back to the end of the trail, where I knew I had slipped a little while climbing around. Out of sheer luck, it was right where I thought it was, in the middle of the bushes off the trail next to the waterfall. If I hadn't had gone to find it, it probably would have been lost forever. As many people know, that knife is completely irreplaceable to me, and it definitely would have ruined my trip for me if it had been lost. Luck has been on my side though, and I got a rush of joy and energy as I sprinted along the slippery composite board path. I didn't even twist my ankle! We got back to Dijembe, made dinner, and settled down to watch a few movies. Celine, our Frenchwoman, had never seen Chocolat before, which we thought was a travesty and sought to remedy.

We got dropped off at the gas station that the bus comes to at about 3:30 AM. At half past 4, we figured the bus was just late as usual. The local police were friendly and talked to us, and we were with a local guy who was quite chatty. I think he was there to make sure we got on the bus safe. Yeah. Too bad the bus never came. We kept calling the bus company, and at about 7:30 someone finally answered and told us that the bus had just completely bypassed our stop. Bastards. We had dozed outside the gas station, on the concrete, in the cold for a couple hours by then. We were pissed as hell, but the good trip and the fact that the gas station wasn't so bad and we felt safe kept us from going into a blood frenzy. The local found us a transport guy who took us to Grahamstown for 200 Rand (a steal! esp. since the van was nicer than the bus we would've taken), and we all stumbled back to our dorms for a shower and some much needed rest.

All in all, the best vacation of my life. I don't think I've ever experienced that much perfect happiness in such a long time. I have been truly blessed. Now, I'm staying in bed, resting my voice, and trying to forget that I have three exams next week that count for the majority of my grade. Wish me luck! I've been having so much of it, it seems impossible that I could have any more. Hope I'm wrong :P

Still in Narnia

Here is a brief lowdown of my life since I last checked in

1. I still don't have WiFi/ethernet internet access on campus. This means that my access is limited to: the hours that various coffee shops are open during the day (because it's not really safe for me to travel alone after dark) and whenever I can make it to/find an available space in the computer lab. So that means the Skyping is essentially out of the picture because during the day here, it's in the middle of the night Stateside, and I can't Skype on the computer lab PCs. Please be patient, lovelies, I'm going to call the mail delivery service tomorrow to see if I can track down that damn cord.

2. My life is essentially made now because last weekend, the IntlStuds went to Addo Elephant Park, and I saw my first wild elephant. I mean, they are essentially domesticated at the rate of tourism, but still, it was amazing. The weather left something to be desired, but the animals didn't seem to mind, so I didn't either.  We also saw lions, kudu, zebras, monkeys, eagles… Next Goal: touch an elephant. Here are a couple pictures from our adventure:

Look at the tiny baby elephant underneath! Tinashe: oh my goodness, that's so beautiful

Speaking of Tinashe, here's our adorable Zimbabwean now. He and I snuggled for warmth in the backseat of the van.

I can't remember what kind of animal this is

An ostrich just hanging out by it's eggs. They were just lying there, to the side.

Kudu. Very Tasty.

Warthogs are damn ugly things, aren't they?

More elephants!!!

We hada lion sighting! Apparently that doesn't happen very often.

Some lovely zebras

We had two different vans, and I was in one with 4 other boys, so Katie decided to come up with a song for me "Janni, Janni, Janni and the boys" sung to the tune of "Benny and the Jets." Unfortunately, it has stuck. That, and "Janni is a Mom" (same tune) because I was the one who brought a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread to feed everyone in case they got hungry. Needless to say, they did. I now am out of bread. And Katie still sings the songs once in a while. Joy.

3. Classes are ploughing along, and I think I'm going to actually start trying. We'll see. There's a little bit of hopelessness involved because apparently the grading system is so harsh here that a 70% is just unheard of. I'm planning on failing all of my classes. I've accepted it already. It's very healthy.

4. Coming up:
Tomorrow (Thursday) a group of us are going to go hiking at Hogsback, a couple hours outside of Grahamstown. It's going to be freaking cold, so hopefully I won't fall deathly ill.

Fun Fact: Some people claim that JRR Tolkein (who was born in Bloemfontein, SA) got his inspiration for Mirkwood from the mountains at Hogsback. They are wrong. Tolkein had left SA as a very small child, never to return. There is, however, a small kid's camp called Hobbiton at Hogsback, named so after the books became popular.

Also, next weekend is the notorious TriVar (pc: Intervarsity). It's a weekend long extravaganza during which four universities (it used to be three, hence the Tri) of the Eastern Cape get together to compete in various sports. But, the real fun starts at the after-parties, where everyone just goes batshit crazy and parties until dawn and past. You wear these white jumpsuits the entire time that you paint with your school colors (ours is purple) that you are never. allowed. to. wash. Apparently, you would wash away the memories with it. Hope my backpack will have room for it in the end :).

Culture Shock

I would be lying if I said that South Africa, specifically Rhodes University, has been some sort of alien experience, living in a mud shack with a couple of chickens, a generator, and a machete. But there have been some differences that I've noticed that I am still getting used to…

1. Look right, then left, then right again

Fun Fact: the South Africans drive on the left side of the road. Must be a former British colony thing.

After three weeks, I still need to look like some sort of bobble head when crossing the street, looking left before remembering that the traffic comes from the other side of the street and whether or not the SA drivers will stop for pedestrians is hit or miss, no pun intended. I've only gotten honked at once though, and considering my usual record of basic air-headedness when it comes to traffic, I consider that an accomplishment. What's more of the problem is that this orientation also applies to walking traffic, so I've been involved in quite a few awkward staircase impasse dances.

2. Regulations. What?

This is Rhodes Res. specific but one of the weirdest things to adjust to so far. Coming from a university whose policy is "just don't be effing idiots" and sort of chalks up everything else to basic young "adult" debauchery, it's weird to be in a place that requires all visitors, male or female, to be signed in and out, and requires all male visitors to leave by the obnoxiously early time of 23h00; they can only return after 8h30 the next morning. However, male dorms allow any kind of visitor at any hour. This is paired by a condom dispenser, almost always full, in every single bathroom, Res. entrance, and random public place. Okay, so they recognize that students have sex, but they just don't want hetero couples to do so in female dorms. Someone made a really good point: do the hall adult admins (they are actually called Wardens. Appropos) feel safer having a girl go spend a night in a dorm full of guys or have one guy come to spend the night in a girl's? Additionally, if I do not sign out if I'm going to be gone past 3h00 or for the weekend, I could get in serious trouble. I mean, I understand that they are accountable for student safety, but our fingerprints already required to open the door, is it really necessary to lock the laundry room at night? House meetings are much more tense than I remember our Kaneko Council meetings, even when handling the drama with the vandalism last year. I guess I'll just have to learn to adjust. But you know how I am with rules I find unnecessary…

3. Party Hearty

Once more, a Rhodes specific observation: People party crazy here. Going out is a whole-hog affair. People seemed to be a little sceptical of the group of us who went out for a quiet drink on Monday at the Rat, as going to pub usually indicates getting schwastey-faced. They also seem to like dancing here, and as opposed to the clubs in the States, which are essentially excuses for people to troll for some ass, a lot of Rhodes students, including the men, are satisfied with dancing in their own groups, bro-loving it up. Don't get me wrong, there's still plenty of hooking up and making out of the dance floor, but significantly less grinding and more basic swaying.

4. Unnecessary Touching. Come on, dude, really?

Okay, in their defense, it's never overtly sexual or inappropriate. It's just… unnecessary. For example:
Tuesday, I was sitting in my History class next to some guy whose name I only might know based off a name I saw embroidered on a sweater (Chris? Maybe?). I was just pretty excited that someone, anyone had thought I looked normal enough to sit next to, for I knew(read:know) not a single soul in that class. He had sat next to me a couple times already, and we had established a tentative rapport, joking about our lecturer and the fact that I'm a poor clueless exchange student in a class that's way out of her skill level, and he had what I'm finding to be the typical SA sarcastic wit. He made a joke at my expense, laughed, and then reached down to pat me on the leg. What the what? Man, I do not even know your name for suresies. I mean, he did it in a completely platonic, slightly condescending way, but it was still a little unexpected. However, I'm starting to get used to the shoulder pats, arm rubs, and the hands rested on my back as random strangers squeeze by me in the pub. Let's be real, my personal bubble is more like a semipermeable plasma membrane, and my delicate sensitivities aren't really offended; the touching just seems overly intimate. Also, I'm not the only person who's noticed this, so it's not just people get the urge to touch the random Asian girl to see if she's real. On that note…

5. The even MORE token Asian

I have always joked about being the random Asian girl in a group of Caucasians. Growing up in the Redneck side of Washington (and proud of it!), I got pretty used to not really seeing another yellow-skinned comrade; I was actually expecting a few more Chinese people here, based on the stats I read on SA and the bunches of them I saw in the JoBurg Airport. But, I was dumb and didn't really think of the stats for Eastern Cape, the province I am living in, and Grahamstown, which is predominantly black and white. As such, I am one of the less than 20 East Asian students on campus that I've seen. My fellow IntlStuds have taken to reporting to me the Asians they see as well, I think sort of to convince me that I am not alone, but so far, the number has been barely double digits.

People stare. I mean, the open and brazen, slow down while walking, not even try to avoid eye contact type of staring. At me. Walking in town, sitting in the library, ordering a drink at the bar, passing in class, "working" at the comp lab… I mean, I have magenta (well, now kindof red) hair, and I'm not the best dressed, but I've checked with the others and they've noticed as well, and every time they promise me that I do not have something on my face and I'm not indecently exposing myself. Plus, I've seen weirder hair and crapper fashion sense around. I can't think of any other immediately noticeable feature that would explain this staring phenomenon that seems to be following me around. As someone who is not particularly of the "Yeah, I'm hot shit" school of thought, I'm not really used to the staring. Maybe I've got a doppleganger somewhere that's been partying like a wild woman, and people are just staring in shock at what appears to be the same woman walking around, functioning, as opposed to passed out due to alcohol poisoning. Also, I have now been THRICE randomly approached by strangers with their arms outstretched for a hug, one of which was sober (unless he was drunk at 13h00 in the middle of the student union building), who sort of laugh and walk on when I dunk out of the way or back away quizzically. I need to ask the others to see if they've encountered this as well, or if I can chalk this up to "They like Janni here." I just asked Chili, my neighbor, if this kind of stuff happens to her, and she just said that it must be my aura. I mean, it can't be because I'm Asian, right? We aren't that exotic…right? Guys? Anybody? Bueller?

6. On a more serious note, the legacy of Apartheid

I wouldn't dream of claiming any sort of ability to sympathize with my fellow students whom are actually faced with the task of actively reshaping an entire nation's thinking, but these are just my humble observations. Every time I make a slightly off-center joke about being racist, usually referring to myself and Asians, people have said, usually jokingly, "Right, because it's such a good idea to make a racist joke in SA." I understand that this was an ugly part of their nation's history, but it seems like people are /very/ afraid of being perceived as racist. It's a battle, external and internal, to balance recognition of certain trends and conceptions against using them to relegate a people to a certain status. But shouldn't we be able to make mistakes, develop openly under an environment that encourages those who may have more learning, or rather unlearning, to do to present their views in a productive discourse in order to enable them to understand the flaws of such thinking? In all of my classes, the topic of racism affecting political theory, a nation's history, the economy is constant and overarching. Everything is put into terms of race, looked through this context, as it should be, considering the proximity of the end of apartheid policies. I have to admit, I may have some more unlearning to do myself, but as we have been discussing in our contemporary theory class, does putting so much stress on the racial aspect of issues perpetuate the particularity of certain races? In more plain terms, does talking about everything in terms of race and how it affects a situation continue to isolate certain races as different, widening the gap between groups of people? Alas, I am definitely not suited to answer such a question. I am also curious to continue to see what SA post-Apartheid is really like. I have noticed on campus that predominately, white people hang out in groups and black people hang out in groups as well. However, there is mutual interaction between many individuals, regardless of race, so I led to believe that this is due to the preference for people of similar cultures to spend time together, esp. if they share a language. I mean, Asian students on campuses in the States frequently form close-knit groups, and this isn't perceived as a problem, so perhaps this isn't either. As I start volunteering the community, it'll be interesting to see how people are adapting to the hindering, both socially and economically, policies of the apartheid gov.

Apart from these random things and the general fratty nature of the men here (although thankfully, I have met a few non-bemulleted guys. I'll let you know if I ever meet a non-jock who is not some sort of shut-in. They really dig sports here), I've been adjusting to life here pretty well. Now that I've gotten settled in, I've had a little more time to think about the things I normally think/worry about, so there's been a lot on my mind, on top of classwork. But, do not get me wrong, I am having the most amazing experience here. I'm learning to appreciate the people and things I've had in my life that I've taken for granted as well as the smaller little differences that make life here beautiful.

When it Rains, it Pours

Here begins a series of mini-lecture titled: T.I.A. (This is Africa): Through Janni's Ridiculously Near-Sighted Eyes.

Lesson One: Janni is a dumb klutz. Always. 

All the pathways here at Rhodes are made with uneven concrete or brick/stone, so I finally met my inevitable fate and sprained my ankle. Thankfully, I know that I'm a clumsy oaf and had the foresight to bring with me not one, but TWO Ace Bandages and a bottle of ibuprofen. Now if only I hadn't gone dancing a couple hours later… I might need to get it checked out

Lesson Two: Dancing on pub tables.

I love the nightlife here. There is a noisy college pub, the Rat and Parrot (the Rat), a block from campus which is a staple for Rhodents. Open pretty much all day, it's the first gathering point that the Intl Studs have chosen. From there, some of us have gone to Friar Tuck's (Friar's), a club that plays a mix of dubstep, house, and basic clubbing music. There's a place called Pirate's (Tinashe tells me there's a stripper pole there) that we've been trying to see this entire time, but it's always closed. There's also a seedy smoke-filled bar called Champs that I think I'll stay away from unless I want to play pool with a bunch of shady looking characters. There's a couple other places for dancing, Olde 65 and Prime, but I've heard mix reviews. Also, Monastery, which is exclusively dubstep. All these places are within a couple of blocks of campus. The Intl Studs have gone out almost every night this past week, and I am starting to get used to coming home smelling of cigarettes, spilled beer, and fun. Lots of fun. There are many good memories that have been made. I'm sure you've seen the Facebook pictures…

Lesson Three: An alarming trend.

There is some hardcore fratty action here. I think it's due to the fact that the Res.es here are all arranged by gender, so the guy's Res.es are conducive to huge brofests. Seriously, there are guys on the dance floor tearing it up together and dancing on tables, singing their house's anthems. With Mullets. Apparently, one of the houses here made a pact that the first one to cut the mullet would have to buy cases of beer for everyone. Am I on the set of Animal House? Regardless, I have met some nice, un-mulleted guys here, including a very cute (but seemingly totally disinterested) ichthyology major…

Lesson Four: Living conditions

I'm now moved into my permanent Res, John Kotze House (JK). I have to lug my sorry ass up to the third floor to get to my room, but that'll be good to ward off the impending beer gut, I guess. The house is beautiful, full of quirky, friendly, individual girls, and a head of housekeeping that is the most adorable old lady I've ever seen apart from my grandmother. The one downside: piss-poor showers. Weak water pressure, ridiculous sensitivity of the cold water tap, so tall that I might as well be standing in some mild rain. Maybe the showers down a floor are better...

Lesson Five: Apparently, Janni's hair is normal here. So there. 

I have seen 5 separate women with the same color magenta, or some shade of it. Actually, there are all sorts of cool hairstyles here, and I feel like the fact that I have weird hair makes me fit in.

Lesson Six: Where are all the Asians?

Guys, I think I'm in the only college that doesn't have any East Asian students. I've seen two. Total.

Lesson Seven: The Locals.

What is in the water here? First of all, everyone is so nice here. Like, "Oh, are the new exchange student? Let me, go out of my way to introduce myself/start a conversation/carry your bag/be ridiculously good-humored. Also, everyone is tall. Okay, I exaggerate, it's more like everyone is not short. But that, to me, means everyone is tall.

Lesson Eight: Well I guess I'm here to learn something…

Classes started Monday, and apart from not being able to access the online course material, it went off without a hitch. I found all my classes, and they all seem to be interesting. I'm taking third-year History: Themes in Zimbabwean History; Politics: Contemporary Theory; and Economics: South African Economy. Also, my Politics prof is essentially what Akins must have been like 20-30 years ago. Enough said. Guys... having classes at 7:45 AM sucks. They're called "Dawnies" here, and I have three of them....

Lesson Nine: Technology. Can't do it.

So, after my beautiful new Macbook was exposed to water via leaky water bottle in purse and I put it in a giant bag of rice for three days straight, internally sobbing, it turned on without a hitch. So that's good. Everything is running smooth. But let me hit you with a piece of knowledge:

Fun Fact: Rhodes' internal internet networking system must be first accessed through Ethernet cable.

"So what," you ask?

Fun Fact: Macbook Airs do not have Ethernet ports.

Cue facepalm.

Fun fact: it costs 50 USD (minimum) for someone in South Africa to buy a cheap version of a Mac compatible USB to Ethernet Adaptor and have it shipped to them if they want it within a week. 

Why am I so bad at life? Bottom line, I'm still on limited internet access, because I either have to hobble into town to access wireless or use the school's computers, which doesn't have any of my files. I will upload pictures and keep updating as much as a can, but this will be another busy week. I leave you with this lovely mini story:

Favorite Moment So Far: I was walking a very sheepish and drunk Tinashe back to Matthews House (back when the Intl. Studs were all still staying there), where he needed to grab an overnight bag before heading to be the RA on duty for the night(they do it for a week straight). He was so embarrassed that a girl was carrying him home and a little concerned that he would be showing up to work drunk. We were bantering about something when:

Tinashe: Oh, I think I just friend-zoned you.
Me: I'm not too broken up about it, man. We can be bros.
*fist pound*

Some things never change. I love it.

ALRIGHT. HERE IT IS.

Have I mentioned how much I hate flying in airplanes? Haven't they invented teleportation (that wouldn't theoretically possibly kill you) yet? The flight from Spokane to Salt Lake was pretty good, had an entire row to myself, so I spent the entire way. SLC to JFK (NY) was slightly less comfortable, but I sat next to a nice Sri Lankan businessman and shared my NationalGeographics with him

Then came JFK. First of all, the terminal looks like a prison. Second, after dragging around my 45lb Backpack,  my 20+lb duffel, and my heavy backpack in the RIDICULOUS humidity (seriously, between that and the heat, I was sweating like a fiend), I finally found the baggage storage place only to have the woman at the desk matter-of-factly tell me that they were full and not taking any more bags. There was no way I was carrying all my stuff on the subway, so I resigned myself to staying the night at the airport. But after wandering around the terminal and a tearful call to my sister, I discovered there was absolutely no place to sit, not even a hard bench, and my sister was kind enough to pay for my cab to her friend Amanda's place, where I had already arranged to stay the night. The taxi driver was a super friendly (and slightly sassy) Nigerian man, living in the US for the past 32 years, with 3 daughters, all going to or had attended college. He had completely pimped out his ride, and I have to admit, I was impressed by the 5 bluetooth capability with touch screen and LED interior lights combined with spotless interior. Definitely nicer than Lucy.

Once I got to Amanda's studio walk-up apt in Midtown, things got better. I took a heavenly cold shower and chatted with her about my travel plans to Europe (she had just come back from Germany and seeing her German boyfriend). She was SO friendly and just what I needed after a long day.

After 4 hours sleep, she graciously woke up with me, bought me a bagel, and walked me to Grand Central Station where there was a shuttle service to the airport. People, I LOVE NYC, barring the permanent permeating smell of urine, and the city in the early morning is just great. As I told the cab driver, I'm going to probably live there someday. After getting dropped off at JFK, getting my affairs in order, and getting through security, I discovered:

Fun Fact: JFK Terminal 4 has birds in it.

As in little wild sparrows that must have snuck in somehow through a gate or door. There wasn't just one, but several. Odd. I can't tell if they are living there or just stuck, but they seem pretty familiar with the place.

Next up, the 10 hour fight to Johannesburg (JoBurg), then 2 more to Port Elizabeth (PE). I was sitting in the same section as a group of college kids, mostly from California, traveling to do mission work in Port Elizabeth, in front of this guy clearly trying to impress this girl by telling her about various subjects, from the Chinese language to African cultures. He was so wrong on so many levels, and he just WOULD NOT SHUT UP. It took all my strength to not just turn around and tell him he was full of crap and for the sake of all of us on the plane, he should just stop talking.

After I got to PE, I met another international Rhodes student from Buffalo, NY (who actually did stay overnight at JFK the poor guy) and a couple of fellow Rhodents (see key ---> for slang terms. there's a lot of them) while waiting for the shuttle. I met a girl who's on the Res committee (the dorm council system) for my hall, and it sounds like I'm going to have a good time partying at a true Braai (barbecue) this semester. The drive to Rhodes was beautiful, I'm sure, but I fell asleep for it so I wouldn't know, haha. The Indian Ocean looks very pale and slightly green, almost like jade.

Guys, SA is so. freaking. beautiful. Esp. Rhodes. I mean, this campus is gorgeous. I'm dying. I think I'm transferring here. On Sunday, it was raining, and cold, and a little bit miserable, but Monday, the sun was shining, there were these cool birds that weave their nests upside down singing, and we took a tour of campus that just proved that my school kicks so much ass in the aesthetics dept. Just saying. I also found a cafe (well, someone told me about a cafe) that has free WiFi and delicious coffee. Study spot= found.

I've been living in a temporary dorm, Matthews House, for this orientation week with all the other international students. There are 2 Netherlanders, Wout (M, Law) and Merel (F), 1 French girl Celine (Journal.), 1 Englishman Simon (EnviroSci/Bio), 1 German girl Deike (Busi.), 1 Italian girl Teresa, 8 American girls Anna, Anna, Ilyssa, Ashley, Katie, Sara, and Chloe and myself (from MI, MD, ME, NY, Boston College, et. al), 1 Aussie girl Bec, and 2 American guys Chris and Ryan (Intl Rel./Econ). We're all going essentially going to be living in different places around campus in a week, but so far it's been one long constant bout of socialization, and I'm afraid people are quite sick of me :P.  It's been established that I'm (unfortunately) a walking encyclopedia, but the people here seem to be taking it well. I'll get better, I promise. There are also a couple of Rhodents who have volunteered to hang out with (babysit) us , Tinashe (Ti-na-shay, who is so sassy. love it), Eric (who's pretty much the most interesting person ever, speaks 6 languages and wants to learn Chinese), and Manda (who I haven't seen much of but I'm pretty sure is kicking all of our asses at pool). So far, I have discovered that everyone on campus, including administrators, has such a great sense of humor. There's sass, sarcasm, and everyone laughs so well. The guy who led our tour was so funny, giving us fun little tidbits instead of the boring stuff, and the International Office was so good-humored about the fact that we all showed up to the wrong place. Apart for the occasional chill (it's been in the 50s F), and the slightly dilapidated dorm I'm living in currently, this place is paradise. The food, so far, has been alright, and Eric has broken down for me what meals I should book when (Indian for supper on Mon. Wed. and Sun. African for Wed. during the day), so I should be trying tasty foods here. Definitely not homesick yet.

Today, mini lectures doing the orientation bit and went around taking pictures. I'll upload them soon! I love it here.

FYI

So, now that I've informed quite a few people (including my parents, finally) that I'll be gallivanting off to a different continent in t-minus 106 days, I've come across a couple of misconceptions about South Africa (hereafter SA) that I'd just like to clear up once and for all and give you guys a little bit of context as to WHY I chose a program a little bit off the beaten path.

1) I will NOT have to take malaria pills. SA has a quite temperate climate (probably like a warmer Eastern Washington), is fairly dry, and therefore is not really conducive to hordes of disease carrying mosquitoes (thank NOB). The diseases that are of major concern in SA are tuberculosis and HIV/AIDS and since I have no intention of a) getting violently coughed on by TB patients, b) having unprotected sex with strangers, or c) sharing needles to inject drugs, I think I'll be fine. Seriously, people, it's cool. I'll be fine.

2) I am going to an ENGLISH-speaking university. Rhodes University is named after the same Cecil B. Rhodes as the Rhodes Scholar founder and was established by the lovely and familiar Brits in 1904. In fact, ALMOST ALL S. Africans speak English. It's one of their 11 official languages (including Afrikaans [a form of Dutch], Zulu, Swazi, Xhosa...). I think a lot of people fail to remember that many Africans speak multiple languages fluently. It never ceases to amaze me.

3) South Africa has many different races (and racial identifications) including: Black, Coloured, Indian, Chinese, White, etc. These forms of identification have been controversial, esp. since the abolishment of Apartheid in 1994, since one's designation does not necessarily reflect one's actual race, but rather social standing.

Fun Fact: South Africa has THREE different capitals: Pretoria (executive), Capetown (legislative), and Bloemfontein (judicial).

4) I will be studying in the city of Grahamstown. It's nowhere near Capetown. Or Johannesburg. Or the coast (well, kinda). The city is approx. a third Black, a third Coloured, a third White (split pretty evenly between Afrikaans and English), with a little Asian, population about 20K (Wikipedia). Rhodes is about half White and has about 7K students total, 5.5K of which are undergrads. It actually is a public university, with many departments and student organizations to offer.

5) I chose Rhodes because I was never really interested in the European study abroad experience, and while Europe offers a variety of cultures and histories, Africa was the one to piqued my interest. My entire pre-secondary education consisted of extolling and belaboring Caucasian history, philosophy, and cultures while "the country of Africa" was presented through the lens of colonialism (and perhaps even a little racism). The more I am exposed to African politics, culture, and history, the so-much-more I want to learn and understand. Because I want to eventually heal the world, my major is Int'l Studies, with a focus on Conflict Resolution *coughWorldPeace*. What better place to start to learn about mitigating, addressing, and moving on from current, complex conflicts than South Africa? Additionally, this program specifically requires students to join a community involvement group, which would be valuable experience for my future career in a humanitarian non-government organization (NGO).

Moving Right Along!

SO many things to take care of before I can sit back and not flip out every two hours about how I have so much paperwork to fill out and shuffle.

Tomorrow, it's the Rhodes Application for realz this time. It's the specific application that Rhodes requires all of its exchange students to fill out. It was the weirdest thing to actually have a boxed labelled "CHINESE" to check off under "RACE."

Fun Fact: Around 1% of South Africans are ethnically Chinese.

Under "please list any physical disabilities," should I put "cripplingly good-looking?" Or is that just implied by these ridiculously attractive visa/application photos?

Don't I look so stunning? As in, like I am a stunned deer?

Next up, waiting for the official acceptance letter, and then visa application, plane ticket, living situation (paying for living situation), breathe.