A Good Monday.

Let's talk about Appletizer. And Grapetizer. Think sparkling apple juice, but to the hundredth degree. It's so damn good, it's kind of like crack. And it comes in these sleek green glass bottles, which makes it even more enjoyable. Steve, this stuff runs circles around your Green Tea Ginerale.

Then there's the Coke Light. No Diet Coke in SA, just Coke Light. It's more sugary that our equivalent; I'm not really a fan. I just stick to the -tizers. The funny thing about all their canned sodas is the can itself. There's extra weight at the bottom, so you think you have about two sips left, but really it's already gone. Shame. What is also noteworthy, is that if you're keeping track of calories you have to be good at math. Everything is in kilojewels, which I don't understand. So there goes that.

Anyways. It was a cool and misty morning and thus appeared to be a great one for a run around the Rondebosch Commons. Lee Anne and I were out at 8am. Except by then the mist had burnt off and it was Africa hot. Needless to say, it kind of turned into more of a walk/run than a full on run. I guess it's okay, though, because I still sweat my ass off.

Back at the flat, Marita scored our MBTI's and I'm officially an INFJ. I read all sorts of literature and it was creepy dead-on [intuitive, complex, stubborn, always think I'm right, service-oriented, perfectionistic, gentle, etc]. And my type is only 1% of the population, so when I feel misunderstood, it's pretty legit. It's fascinating to have an objective, yet relatively in-depth understanding of yourself. And it's surprisingly relevant to my experiences here in Cape Town.

Moving on. Lee Anne and I hopped in a cab to head in to town today, and while on the M2 (think 93) we looked out the window and about a hundred yards to our left there were wildebeests and zebras grazing on the side of the mountain! It was pretty surreal. Zebras and wildebeests on the side of a highway? Entirely crazy. Once in town, we walked around Long Street for a bit (where most of the "culture" is; lots of bars, restaurants, tattoo parlors, cafes, book stores, porn shops, etc. It's been compared to Bourbon Street in New Orleans.). We ate a light lunch sitting outside and people watching. A man, who was in tattered clothes and without teeth, came up to us and without saying a word extended his shaking hand, begging for something, anything. I shook my head and as he walked away I thought, "that will never get easier". And it won't.

From there, we meandered through the beautiful and lush Company Gardens en route to the Slave Lodge. The building is one the oldest buildings in Cape Town; it was originally used as an actual slave lodge. It follows the rich and complex history of enslavement in South Africa. The history is abundant, the stories are raw, and the emotions evoked are endless. One of their tag lines, that really spoke to me, is: Turning Human Wrongs Into Human Rights.

There is currently a Bantu Steven Biko exhibit that was mindblowing. It made me angry and sad and dumbfounded. [This is a brief description of the exhibit: Biko is regarded as one of the most outstanding intellectuals of twentieth-century South Africa. As a leader, philosopher, visionary and revolutionary, he made a vital contribution to the struggle against ‘apartheid’, and his ideas on Black Consciousness and the liberation of the African intellectual tradition through self-reliance remain relevant today. The exhibition examines the African and American roots of Biko’s thinking, highlights his vision of a new society in South Africa, and traces his life and leadership role in the anti-apartheid struggle that ended with his death while in police detention.]









After the Slave Lodge, we went to Bo-Kapp, which is a section of Cape Town that sits on the side of the mountain. Bo-Kapp translates to Upper-City. Bo-Kapp is a predominately Muslim community (with ancestral ties to Indonesia); it is known for its brightly colored homes, steep steep steep cobble stone roads, several mosques, and rich Islamic culture. As we walked around the neighborhood of about 800 residents, we received warm smiles from men and young boys alike - most dressed in traditional Islamic dress, including a taqiyah. Other boys dangerously whizzed around corners on rollerblades, and young sisters in matching outfits devoured blue popsicles. There was soccer and skate boarding in the street and a true sense of community. They all watch out for each other. Everyone knew everyone and greeted each other with kisses on the cheek. Kind of like how life should be.