The Man and his Mountain

Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity. It is an act of justice. It is the protection of a fundamental human right, the right to dignity and a decent life. - Nelson Mandela

Although Cape Town is very westernized, it's far from free of poverty. There are probably more citizens in the townships than in the suburbs. The townships are frequent and overpopulated where as the suburbs are sparse and spacey. Even then, in the midst of those wealthy suburbs, you will find homeless men under trees and family's on street corners. 

Durbanville is a very large suburb and might be described as a "white area". However, it is a prime example of racial segregation. The center of Durbanville is very well structured. There are fancy apartments, fast food restaurants, holiday homes and a large 'Pic N Pay' Store. There aren't many black customers in 'Pic N Pay'. That's just how it is. The ironic thing is, you're barely ever served by a white person.

Walking down the main road, the apartments become less "fancy." 'Checkers' appears, the seemingly middle-class supermarket. 'Checkers' has an equal mix of customers. Black, white, coloured, everyone, anyone. Coloured isn't a racist term in South Africa, it's the official name for a particular race. Saying that, not all coloured people define themselves by the colour of their skin. Some are coloured by Culture. 

It's some-what of a modern race. When the apartheid ended, people could be with who they wanted to be with, regardless of their skin colour. Before that, it was illegal. The apartheid ended only twenty years ago, meaning democracy in this country is as young as I am. Alongside a new government and a new way of life, the ending of apartheid encouraged a baby boom. 

So you've passed 'Checkers' and you're still walking.  It's a long road. There are no more apartments. There's a China Town, a few individual businesses and a taxi rank. This part of Durbanville is home to the 'Shoprite' Store. If you're a white person in this store, you're probably the only one.

Plastic advertisements are replaced with painted walls and white stickers stamped "safe abortion" have appeared on every bin, post box and lamp post. You rarely see a white person. Only five minutes ago, you rarely seen a black person. You're wondering what has happened. Why do they live so close together yet live lives a thousand miles apart? South Africa's apartheid wound is yet to heal. It's going to take a lot of time and a lot of faith. People still hold hope in their hearts, they believe in South Africa.

You see success alongside progress alongside forgotten tin homes and angry citizens. You see faith and you see sadness. You see smiles and you see tears. There's a different township around every corner, there's a new born baby on almost every back and there's a man with a story under every road-side tree.

There's a certain homeless man in Durbanville, who's story I wish I knew. Some say he was once a child at our home. You often see him sleeping on the road side or sitting by the gas station. People are kind to him. In Scotland, most citizens would go out of their way to avoid homeless people. That's heart breaking and it's awful...but it's how it is, is it not? But here, this man, these people, it's incredible. A few days after Christmas, he was clean shaven and he had a new hair cut. His torn flats were replaced with flip flops and he wore new jeans and a woolen jumper. Someone thought of him.

He's never left in the rain. He sits inside the warm gas station, where he can watch TV and sip on a coffee. He always chats away to himself as if he's sat with his best friend. People pop in for airtime or to buy some treats. They will say hello to him and kindly be on their way. I'm going to miss this kind of human behavior. It's not even a behavior, it's humanity and it's how it should be. The people of this country carry a very special word in their hearts- Ubuntu. It is a way of life. What hurts you, hurts me. 

Some people blame homelessness on homeless people. I don't think that's fair. People don't choose to live  a life of suffering. Every man has a mountain to climb. Some are hiking Goat Fell on a warm summers day. Other's are faced with the rocky uncertainty that is Mount Everest. Back to the man in Durbanville, all he needs is a helping hand on his way back to contentment. The people of Durbanville are giving him that help. 

We are all at the fault of poverty, it is a human creation and It can be taken away with human effort. We all have the ability to take away someones pain and suffering. Family's don't need to starve in Africa, children don't need to die of diarrhea and babies don't need to die of thirst. Yet, they do. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second. People have forgotten how to help. They want to but they don't. They feel bad about it but they don't act on it. 

The next time your television advertises poverty, don't say ack shame and go back to eating your dinner. You don't have to pick up the phone and donate money either. Just do something that humanity gave you the ability to do. You don't need to go to Africa to find poverty... 

Go to Glasgow and buy someone a sausage roll.

To be continued...

Har De Daar

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."

With less than eleven weeks to go, I can't help but wonder what I'll miss when I'm gone. There are so many details that I can't imagine my life without, even though they were once so foreign. Here's part one of my i'll miss you when i'm gone list. Reversed culture shock is headed my way and I'm terrified to face it. 

Biltong: My thoughts are drifting to beers and braii's. Biltong is raw, dried-out meat with nothing but a sprinkle of seasoning. It's delicious. Kudu, Beef, Springbok, Chili, Barbecue, Garlic...whatever, it's all incredible. I'll miss the Chili Beef Biltong from the local store. Biltong is a staple food of South Africa. You have to try it if ever you are blessed with the opportunity. It goes down nicely with a beer, more biltong and then some.

Chili Biltong, Chili Chili Biltong, Oh, Chili Biltong!

Trains: If you've seen a South African film, you're familiar with South African trains. They tend to play host to murders and muggings. I'm particularly fond of "Tsotsi". It's a brilliant film if never you've seen it. I happen to like the trains but don't get me wrong, I wouldn't dare use one after dark. They are safe to travel with during the day. They are also very cheap and efficient. If you look past the torn seats, "safe abortion" signs and vandalized walls, it's a nice ride. With the doors left open and the carriages over-flowing, South Africa's Metro-rail is much more thrilling than the likes of Scotrail. 

When there's no space on the INSIDE...Why Not...

Har-dee-Dars: Har-dee-Dar is what they scream every morning. It's an infuriating wake up call. I had a serious case of love at first sight with these birds. They are so cool and it's very fascinating that they are never not angry. They tend to attack the small ones at the Children's Home. That's not so great but it's just a display of Who's Boss and Who's NOT boss. They are strong birds. I like the way they waddle.

                              Hardedaardedarr! Bad - Ass Bird with an Attitude.                    
           

Blue Chickens: More commonly known as "The Guinea Fowl". The German's call them "Blue Chickens". That's so great to the extent that I can't call them by any other name. I don't know why they call them Blue Chickens. They are very shy, short and stumpy (the birds, not the Germans). But they are beautiful! The poor wee souls are always running around like it's life or death. I noticed these birds frequently on Robben Island. They must like the peace and quiet. Either that or they are sacrificial birds feeling guilty for their wrong-doings.

                               "Look at the blue chicken!" IT'S A BLUE CHICKEN.                
              

Mini Taxis: ARRIVE ALIVE! Cheap, efficient, terrifying, fun. Every country should have a line of mini taxis. When sitting in the front seat, one must play role of "conductor." That is NOT a cool job when people are screaming at you in several different languages. I love mini taxis, they're a cultural adventure. It CAN be very embarrassing when you're trying to holla one from the side of the road. A lot of the mini taxis have prayers written on the inside walls. I don't want to know why... not now, not ever!

Mini Taxi Rank. A bustling maze of joy and joy-ness..

Travelling: From the African Bush to the Extreme Sports of the Southern Coast, South Africa has so much to offer. The landscapes, cultures, politics and history are all so consuming. There's is so much to see and not enough time to see it. Travelling has been a huge part of my time here. I have so many incredible memories from my travelling antics. I'll miss the endless possibilities. 

The Worlds Highest Bungy - My Most Thrilling Memory

Steak, Beer... Steak, Beer...

22.05.14

Yeesh, lot's to update. Let's start from the moment my mum arrived. 

Katie and I were waiting at Cape Town International, sipping on a tasteless Hot Chocolate and wondering how I'll react at the sight of my mum. It had been more than eight months since i'd seen her. By the time she (took her time) walked through the gates I was doing my nervous-I-need-the-toilet-but-don't-really dance. I gave her a big hug and huffed at her outfit that was far too similar to mine. That was that. On the taxi back to Durbanville she told me how she recently found out I have South African ancestors. Not only that but part of the family may still be in South Africa! That's a whole other story...

Mum was booked into the De Oude Caab Guest House next door to the children's home. It's a really nice, quirky place. I took advantage of her shower and television. It had actual channels. Ahh, the Beer Garden... the first place I took my mum. Hey, Steak and Beer is a CULTURAL EXPERIENCE! She loved it. I maybe took her for steak and beer one to many times but she loved it. She did, she loved it. I'm trying to rack my brain for the adventures we went on in Durbs.

We went on lot's of walks around the area and I took her to all three supermarkets so she could see the racial diversity between them. We went to Stellenbosch one day, that was lovely. She wasn't impressed at the luminous colours of our Waka Berry Yoghurt but she ate it anyway. It was goood. Our taxi driver back from Stellenbosch was great. He definitely wanted to marry mum.

Mum looking beautiful at De Oude Caab

Waka Berry!

Chilling at De Oude Caab

LIONS! Damson came with us to Drakenstein Lion Park. It was really incredible. I think I was a Lion in my past life. The lions were just lion around and i'm not even lion. Hey lion, there's a lion. Where? There. You lion? I'm not lion! That's pretty much how the day went.

I just want to HUG IT

And I will always love you

The time eventually came for mum and I to leave for Long Street, Cape Town. Yes, that's right. I took mum to a backpackers and booked us into a shared dorm. It's all part of the experience. Long Street backpackers is great, so are their internet passwords. "I slept with bubbles" (the cat) and "I wasn't that drunk." were two of the best.

Cape Town! Here's a list of what was supposed to happen during the week...The Robben Island Tour, a trip to the top of Table Mountain, a lazy day on the beach, a train to Simon's Town, an adventure to Cape Point.

Here's what actually happened.

We went on the Robben Island Tour and it was really interesting and educational. We were shown around the island by an Ex Political Prisoner. Before hand, I had no idea that President Jacob Zuma spent 10 Years in the prison. This prison was a TOUGH prison. I couldn't help but think of Shutter Island and the idea of landing and never leaving. It was strange to see the cell where Mandela had spent so many years. I sat for a while in what's now known as "Mandela's Garden" It's a little greenery patch where Mandela hid his script of Long Walk to Freedom while he was writing it.

The view of Table Mountain dominated the horizon from the quarry where prisoners would hammer. Imagine being close enough to see but too far away to touch the progress of Cape town...as it grew outward and upward in a burst of politics and culture, business and architecture. A burst that was exploited every where in the world with the exception of that tiny prison, where the future president of South Africa was held for eighteen years...

I made the decision to introduce mum to some of my South African friends. Well, none of them are actually South African, they are Ugandan. Any way, bad idea! Mum took far too much a fancy in the musician that is Thee No.1 Badman (not literally). I'm being sketchy to save some confidentiality, bare with it. Anyway. That introduction was both good and bad. Firstly, it's bad because I occasionally went hours without seeing my mum. It's good because...

Mum got to see the real South Africa. More than once we were in and out of the townships. She got to see Badmans new video being filmed and we even visited his music studio. We were taken to proper hide-away restaurants where only the locals (and we) go. My highlight of our cultural food experience was the Ethiopian Restaurant on Long. It was more like an indoor tree house with creaky floor boards, a dodgy stair case and all the meat you could eat... with your hands! It was delicious.

The best part of the week was taking my mum to Mzoli's - the huge braii party in the township of Gugulethu. It's an incredible place, experience and atmosphere. I drank all of her beer but I think she enjoyed it. Gugulethu is wild. I had a girl tell me her entire life story while she danced circles around me. Her mum  was put in prison for growing dagga (weed) so she was left with no choice but to move to Cape Town where other family members took her in. She now lives in Gugulethu and is studying something or other at University.

I ate an awful lot of burgers from the Long Street Burger Shop. They are really good and really greasy. Those burgers are so good. Writing about them is making me hungry. The Burger Shop brings my attention to Long Street beggars. There are a lot. You can't walk five minutes down the street without being stopped ten times. I could tell that the beggars were a huge shock to my mum at first. It's strange to think i've become "used" to them. Although it may seem cruel, people encourage you NOT to give the beggars money. There are plenty of organisations in Cape Town trying to help these people. If beggars think they can live sufficiently on the streets, they will deny that help. Anyway, a lot of these people have similar stories, the majority are probably false, hoping for sympathy. When I said no to one man, he became violent and said  "you are a sick human being, how can you not care about my dying baby?" That sounds tragic and painful but this man is one of the many with a false story. He is notorious for pleading the sympathy trip before becoming aggressive.

I made sure to buy my mum a good old "Soweto'n Toilet shot".  Don't panic, it's just a chocolate banana shot of alcohol that happens to look like the contents of a toilet. It's actually really good.

We both decided to have our hair braided. BAD IDEA. It hurt bad, really bad. It was cool for a couple of weeks but i've taken it out now, along with half of my hair. The hair dresser was lovely, she liked to talk about her family and invited us to church. That was before she gave us the rip-off of the century. Imagine my face when she says "R500. Each side."  Eh, NAW! That's almost £25 per side. Yeah, that's right! Don't worry, I haggled my way down but we still got ripped off. Safe to say we DID NOT go to church that Sunday. Eugh.

Mum bought an African mask but i'll forgive her because she bought me a blue chicken.

On one of our free mornings, we decided to go to Green Market. Essentially a massive out-door African Market. I got a silver necklace in the shape of the African Continent. I also got a marriage proposal. I kindly declined. The market has potential to be brilliant but you can't walk five feet without someone telling you your babies would be beautiful...with them.

Nothing I'm writing is in order, i'm just going by what memories pop into my head.

One hot, sunny day, we conquered Table Mountain...on the cable cars. We had a cool drink at the top and walked around for a while. The view is beyond incredible up there. If Cape Town is the finest work of art then Table Mountain is it's master. Later on in the evening, I took mum to Signal Hill, my favourite spot in the world. Every time i'm up there it takes my breath away.

I Think that's the highlights over. If I remember anything else I add it here. Mum left not wanting to leave.

My first go at Ugandan food...

Mum thinks she's cool in Badmans Studio

I loved this little guy

Hiy, these guys are well famous in Uganda!

Mum, Bad man, Me

Mum looking like a fish wife

Nelson Mandelas Prison Cell

In Mandela's Garden

Ex Political Prisoner...metaphorical with the bars reflection on him I think

Our Long Street Backpackers Dorm

The view of Cape Town on the boat to Robben Island

Mum was screaming at me by this point

Me on top of the world' ey!

Mum admiring how flat "Table" Mountain is

Mum on Table Mountain

The view from signal hill - Devils Peak

Looking like i've seen a ghost

Our Ethiopian Meal

March for Marijuana 

Gugulethu

Mum actually ate this... IT HAS TEETH

Oh...and I got a tattoo!

On Signal Hill, Cape Town behind me

Unfortunately, we received bad news during our time in Cape Town. My best friend and the love of my life, Doughnut...who's been there for me since I was three years old... passed away. He was our Golden Labrador. I haven't really cried about it yet because i'm in denial. It's still processing but rest assured i'm completely heart broken. I might have been three years old but I remember the day we got Doughnut. He was brought into the living-room in a card board box, a complete surprise. I cried all night because they wouldn't let him sleep in my bed. I have memories of him eating  frozen chips, knocking me into puddles, peeing on a bus ticket, taking up the bed, hogging the couch, stealing food, being my alarm clock, running "loony runs" around the house, drinking beer, dancing to slip knot, running away, listening to my secrets and always being there for me regardless of my mood. I'll never forget how he would fart in between stretching and getting off the couch. He has been cremated and we will let him go on his favourite beach when i'm home. I must say, there's nothing stranger than seeing his entire being fit into a small brown box. Good bye baby. Scratch that, i've cried! kjlfkjslfkjsd.

So now mums gone and wishing she were here. I'm still here so i've got to make the most of it.

I'm currently at Wild Spirit, a backpackers in the mountains of Nature's Valley... somewhere between Plettenburg Bay and Tsitsikamma. I leave on Saturday night and I've been here since SaturDAY. I have no spending money but i'm having a great time. I wrote this on the coach with the intentions of keeping it up to date. I didn't do such a thing but you can read it anyway...

"I've settled into my CitytoCity coach and I'm on my way to Tsitsikamma. My journey to the coach itself was interesting. I arrived at the wrong coach station and had to call back my taxi. I didn't panic and all is well. My second journey was free of charge.

The taxi driver is a friend of mine now. He is my go-to-guy for a reliable on-time taxi journey. He did take a serious liking to my mum when she was here, that was fun. On the ride to the wrong coach station, he intrigued me with the story of how Tsitsikamma got it's name. It's somewhat of a love story between an African king and his white wife.

He insisted that I marry his son and become a citizen of South Africa. No.

CitytoCity will drop me off at Plettenburg Bay, also a friend of mine. This will be the sixth time I have stopped by Plett. From there, I'll be picked up by a shuttle on it's way to the mountains of Natures Valley, where there lies a backpackers aptly named Wild Spirit."

I keep a journal. It's difficult writing both blog and journal. Wild Spirit is great. I've met some really cool people, got lost in the forest, ran away from baboons, hiked to a waterfall, ate lot's of pasta, slept lot's, chilled lot's...

The tree house!

Mama Yellowood

Hugging the 900 year old tree for 900 years good luck..

Forestry

My best friend for the week - Bongi!

The bar at night

The view from "God's Window"

This sums up my time in Natures Valley

Shrooms in the forest!

One of the beautiful horses that grazed around the camp site

Very Magical, when you're not lost

The Magic Forest

To save you falling TO YOUR DEATH

The forest falls

The beautiful falls

Pasta and sauce...every night

live music between two musicians who had only just met!

Wild Spirit's new puppy - Topez - meaning The Clumsy One

I found this little guy under my bed

In the Magic Forest

Rooibos - A Delicious South African Tea that has cured my Cat's Allergy

It's a lazy holiday. There's a hidden agenda behind my time here. I had made the decision to stay in South Africa. Wild Spirit seemed like the perfect out-of-the-way-no-distractions place to find out if staying here is possible. Unfortunately, I've found out it's not. If I were to stay, I would live and work in a Cape Town backpackers. As it's paid work, I would need a work permit. Unfortunately, the cost of that goes into the triple £'s. Unless I find another solution, I'll have to return home in August. From there I'll work on finding my way back to South Africa. I feel like i'm tied to this land, I can't leave but I have to. I know that I'll come back and I'm holding on to that. I never thought a country could break your heart but SOUTH AFRICA YOU'RE BREAKING AND BREAKING IT GOOD.