baby steps

This blog is written in a spirit of celebration: I'm almost on my way to being semi-grounded in this city! I know that doesn't sound like much, but let me just explain my tiny, but oh so significant, victories.

--- Hot drinks are a big deal here. I have yet to visit a house for a meal/party or a church service where it was not followed with a time of tea or coffee drinking. It's a time of continued fellowship, very cultural and delightful. I, unfortunately, have never had even the slightest taste for coffee. I know, how is that possible? I am Mike "I-would-drink-starbucks-every-day-if-I-could" Reynolds' daughter, and yet, coffee does nothing for me. I felt the same about hot tea. I continually accepted a cup of tea when offered out of politeness, but the entire time I drank it I was accosted with the extreme desire to load that sucker with sugar, lemon, and ice cubes.. let's get some Southern, sweet tea a kickin'! Had I not been trying to convince them that I am not an ignorant, selfish, American, I would've actually done it. Fast forward a week: after multiple mediocre tea-drinkings, I was chatting with my UK friend, Ollie, and she got me all fixed up! Turns out, regular hot tea with milk and (loads) of sugar is downright delightful! My oh my, how the tables have turned. I even made myself a cup out of pure enjoyment this evening. Granted, ANYthing is good with lots of sugar, but now I'm able to be genuine with my "thanks!" when handed a steaming cup of tea!

--- This may shock you, but I do not blend in as a native here. There have been several instances where- without even opening up my loud, American mouth- people have pegged me as a foreigner. And to be honest, I've been pretty upset about this. I literally could not understand what was stamped on my forehead that shouted, "Hey, I'm American and more than likely confused, feel free to mug me- I probably forgot to hide my money, it'll be in my wallet, which is right by my digital camera!" I spent nearly every waking moment researching the South African ladies around town to try and solve my problem... What are these ladies wearing that I'm not? Their dress and bags are not unlike my own. Their hair isn't red, but they have the opportunity to have my hair color if they went to the dye aisle in the grocery store- I know my color is there, I'll be using it in 4-6 weeks. So what's the deal? Then it dawned on me- these ladies 'don't play no games.' When walking down the people-infested and sketchy Main Road, native ladies sport a facial expression that immediately tells onlookers "don't mess with me, I can hold my own." Eureka! The minute I realized this, I literally spent time perfecting my blue steel look. The next day, I was asked directions by someone looking lost- score! A few days later while checking out at a local store, the cashier thought I was a local, and was surprised to find out I was from the states- score! Watch out, residents, there's a new South African in town.. And she's sassy.

--- This next accomplishment may be an even bigger feat than shark cage diving itself. I walked home from school all by myself! I didn't realize how elementary that sentence would sound. Which is interesting, because there is nothing elementary about walking twenty minutes down the streets in Rondebosch by yourself, especially as a young female. I had hoped that I would never have to walk to/from school alone, but my schedule decided otherwise. Yet another reason why I need to be-friend one of those fellows I see daily zooming by on Mopeds. Until that day, I guess I'll just continue working my look-of-steel and securing my money down my shirt (which is very handy until you forget to remove before you're at the check-out line. Awkward.). Meh, gotta do whatcha gotta do.

Cheers!

-les