Settling into the unsettled

Don't get me wrong, I'm doing alright. Life back home is just far from life in South Africa. I signed on with the notoriously ridiculous job center, hoping they would support me while I find work. So far, they have told me I can't go to my Project Trust Debriefing and won't be paid until I've been here for three months. I was born here, I've lived here my whole life! That's what you get for spending a year doing something worthwhile - a slap in the face.

Not to worry, I'm definitely going to my debriefing. It's a closure course back on the Isle of Coll, where it all began. Apparently, I can only go if I sign something to state i'll come home immediately if I'm offered a job. I've also got to search for jobs while I'm on Coll. That's fabulous considering there's no wifi.There isn't even a phone signal. Shh. As far as not paying me is concerned, if they don't, I can't afford to sign on every fortnight. It's a lose-lose situation. They then had the cheek to ask me what i'll do if I can't find a job. Er, DIE?

Other than that, it's okay. I spend my days wondering what to do then realize I have no money to do anything. I'll walk the dog, clean the flat and pace around for a few hours. Speaking of the flat, that's my new home. Mum had to move here while I was away. It's only got one bedroom but that's okay. South Africa toughened me up. I might be moving in with my brother soon, that will be alright so long as i'm not considered the house maid. 

The neighbours across the hall are encouraging me to lose my faith in humanity. I'm yet to actually see them face to face. I don't fancy doing so, for fear of what loss I'll see in their eyes. They scream, they shout. They leave their empty blue bags in the hallway. They fight, they stab, they spray blood across our door. They play techno on repeat until four in the morning. They beg that we call the police and then treat us like dirt. They stole our complimentary box of DVD's and replaced it with a box of cereal. They accuse our dog of being a devil and then break their own window in.

Other than the flats of death, Largs is a lovely town. The views are beautiful and the sun sets are incredible. There will be a massive viking festival on soon. With that comes good entertainment and good food.That will be something to keep me busy,  I can't wait. An unaware local thought my dreads meant I was a viking. Oh dear, I suppose it doesn't get more Scottish than that. 

As soon as I have some form of income, I can move on with my America plans. I'm still confident that i'll be out there by February. Note that I said "out there" and not "out of here". There will be a detailed post on that soon. I'm thinking of starting a new blog called something like Conversations with a Generation. I've overheard and heard so much bad word recently that should definitely be publicized.

A beautiful view of Arran and Millport from Largs

And a lovely view of Largs Town

I Can't Believe You're Bloody Deporting Us

There's too much to write about my last two months in South Africa, so have some photographs instead. I've been back in Scotland for a week now. I'm still settling in, everything is very new and shiny yet it all looks too familiar. We didn't just leave South Africa, we got DEPORTED! Leaving in style. Visa problems. I've been banned from South Africa for twelve months but i've made an appeal because that just can't be. #ThisisprobablynotProjectTrust

I'm working on another post about being back home and my upcoming plans of the USA and Jamaica.

Last Shift Tantrums

The day we visited the Grand West Casino 

Blouberg Beach

Our second to last day at the Children's Home

With Katie on Blouberg

Drumming for the International Maths Olympiad at the University of Cape Town

Our very last day at the Children's Home

That time we went to Julians for a Braii

Chicken Braii Chicken Braii

When Katie and I had an end of year-hair crisis

Drumming on Long Street with Katie

University of Cape Town drumming

Mzoli's Drum Fun

The guy that pee'd in the plant pot

Two of my favourite people

The time Katie and I climbed Signal Hill to watch the Sun Rise and there was none

Johannesburg

Signal Hill, Cape Town

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...

Gugulethu Braii

I have an impulse to start every blog post with yoh! When you don't know what to say or it's too much to say or you don't know how to say it... just yoh. That sounds like it could escalate into a fantastic song but I won't go there. My room mate would definitely go there. We have recently amused ourselves with the likes of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang tune. Anything goes, particularly Chilli Biltong. If you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, I need to put my thinking cap on. Let's start with steak and beer. Yes, again.

I've been working on night shift since January. That's a long time and because of that, I am completely nocturnal. It's an experience to say the least. I really enjoy night shift, especially recently as things have pleasantly changed. Instead of spending ten hours in one house, our shifts have been split. My most common shift involves working with the babies until 0130 and then with the oldest girls until 0700. I love it. It gives me the opportunity to experience the best of both houses. The little ones are always asleep when I arrive. At 2300, I take five of them to the toilet. This is always entertaining as some of them don't wake up throughout the entire process. I've become very attached to one of the little ones recently and I wish she could come home with me.

The little angels (sometimes) that I've been working with

I reached a new low last weekend. I had steak and chips for breakfast. It was 0700, I had just finished work and I knew weet-bix just wouldn't make the cut. I fried the steak, tossed in some onions, cooked the chips and topped it all off with a black pepper sauce. It was the best breakfast ever. I then went to bed and slept until 1700. Living life in the shadows.

Yesterday I went to Mzoli's, the out door party in Gugulethu - A Cape Town Township. As always, it was so much fun! Our ride to the township had a smashed wind screen and the driver's excuse was TIA - This is Africa. Mzoli's is famous for it's braii meat and I now know why! It was sooo goood. Have I ever written a blog that doesn't involve food?

After Mzoli's, we headed to The Location Township. If you've ever seen the movie Tstotsi, that's where it's set. It's also the setting of Blue Sky Freedom by Gaby Halberstam. This Township Party was a little more...Ghetto. It was great fun. However, everyone was looking at us, really looking at us. Not in a threatening way, just in an extremely-curious-who-are-you-where-do-you-come-from-why-are-you-here kind of way.

Our Lovely Ride

Katie, Me, Ruby, Knight, Emilio

Approaching Gugulethu!

Inside Mzoli's

Katie and Emilio...

Today is my room mate's birthday. She's happy that it's her birthday, she's not happy that we know it's her birthday. Don't ask why, I don't know. I didn't believe her when she insisted that her birthday was late July. I decided to investigate deeper into the case and discovered that it was today. She is twenty now. We went to the Beer Garden with Katie and Ruby. It was nice, I had nacho's.

I would have had steak but I couldn't afford it.

Sorry Bellville

Yoh, I can't believe it's June. I barely have two months left. That in itself is something to hysterically cry about. Anyway, before I move onto Part Three Of things i'll be greetin' about, I've really got to tell you what happened in Bellville. As entertaining as it may be have been, I'd rather visit the witch doctor. The following incident may be the result of my own karma. 

We were in Bellville and we were waiting to board our train. The crowd was growing  by the second, rush hour was at it's peak. The train arrived, the doors opened. People -illegally- crossed tracks and others hurried along the platform. These platforms aren't quite your 9 and 3/4, they are INSANE. It was an every-man-for-himself battle. Within a few, slightly confused seconds, everything's fine and you're on the train. Success. That's when the uproar breaks out. Phones, plural, were stolen. The particular culprits are some-what notorious. They board the train and swipe everything before doing a hop off and walk off. For the first time in my life, I laughed because I was in shock. I would like to use this space to say "Cheers Mum!" If everyone had baby socks sewn into their bra's, everyone would still have a phone. You're a genius, I suppose.

This whole situation is either karma for my glorifying the metro-rail or karma for my dissing the witch doctor's. If you're thinking what-is-she-on-about click here. 

I'm going to write about a nearby Township that's reached the news recently. It will be in my next post, so watch this space. I'll save thing's i'll be greetin' about for another time.

Until next time...

How About America?

I've tried and failed to write this post since I got back from Tsitsikamma. I've tried and failed serious, I've tried and failed witty. I don't really know why it's been so difficult, I guess I'm a little bit nervous. A huge process is about to begin and that process is going to consume me. To put it simply, here it is, how it is... 

I'M GOING TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA FOR A YEAR

And now, the details. I'm applying with an Organisation called Au Pair in America. I've started my application but it won't go live until I've had my interview back home. I thankfully fill all of the requirements, thanks to my time in South Africa. You need two hundred hours of child care experience, I have over two thousand. Here's the basics of Au Pair in America and what it's all about...

I'll be living with an american family in one of thirty available states. They will be my "host family" throughout the year. My duties will involve taking care of their children for up to 40 hours and five days a week. In return, I'll receive up to $250 a week and a total of $500 to study at a local college or university. Studying is part of the J-1 visa requirements. I'll probably take a creative writing or language course. 

Au Pair in America charge an all inclusive fee of around £399. I'm going to work my ass off in Scotland to raise that money. It can't be too difficult after raising £5400 for Project Trust. I'm thinking Buchanan Street Busking with my Djembe.

I'm simply making the most of opportunities available to me. It really is possible to see the world without owning a fortune. I don't need much spending money as I'll be earning within the first month. Au Pair in America is a popular organisation, the sister company to Camp America. I attended an APIA information session before I left for South Africa. 

As soon as I'm home I can finish my application and attend my interview. Hopefully I'll be accepted onto the program so I can begin the matching process. They say choosing the right family is more important than their location. I don't mind where I go but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my eye on a few states. Louisiana, California, Nevada...Not to mention that the likes of Hawaii and New York are available.

I'm very curious about the USA. Like South Africa, it's a very diverse country. The politics and cultures are fascinating and will help me on my road to journalism. America is the next adventure for me. I've clearly caught the travel bug. Like my time in South Africa, the idea is to be immersed in another culture. I'll be living my year like an american citizen. I think it will be fascinating, to work with wealthy American Children after working in an African Children's Home. The mere thought of it is mind consuming.

How could I forget...

I'll be using my every free second to travel the states!

I mentioned APIA to my family before I left for South Africa. At the time they were most likely thinking it's just a phase. Unfortunately however...  they were also thinking my dreams of South Africa were just a phase! Going to the states is a lot more flexible. I'll be able to come home for holidays and I'll be getting paid.  After living on the equivalent of twelve pounds a week, i'm sure over one hundred and fifty will suffice.

The most important piece of information I can share with you is this... spending time in the USA will fund my return to South Africa...

Bakkie i'll Be Back

In my previous blog I wrote of Biltong and Birds, Travel and Transport: All of which are general things that I'll surely miss when I'm home. Here I continue, with more things that I'll shortly be greetin' about. It's quite difficult to write about these places and people, knowing that I'll soon be without them. 

Cape Town: The Mother City. It's diverse and it's fascinating, it's beautiful and it's bursting with culture. From the colourful mosques of Bo Kaap to the shining shacks of Kayelitsha and Langa, Cape Town is like the whole world in one city. Not to mention it's backdrop, the Waterfront, the Gardens and the old dutch architecture of Long Street. And then there's the wine farms, the extreme sports and the stunning coastline that reaches out to meet not one but two oceans - The Atlantic and the Indian. This city is just incredible, I want to live here.

Cape Town looking as beautiful as ever. View from Blouberg Beach.

                                      

Table Mountain: Table Mountain is a Natural Wonder of the World. It's beautiful and bizarre. I can easily pin-point my favourite Table Mountain memory. It was after midnight and Nelson Mandela had just passed away. The sky was so clear that you could almost see the milky way, even though we were just above the city. We had written a message in the memorial book to Tata Madiba when we decided to make the trip. I lay in the middle of the road, about half way up the mountain. It was peaceful and it was silent, we watched the stars. I then decided to take a roll down the road. It was incredible. I have literally rolled down Table Mountain.

On top of Table Mountain, View over Camps Bay with the Atlantic Ocean.

                                       

The Beach: The beaches are picture-esque, like post cards. White-gold sand with cool, clear, shark infested waters. Whether we want to surf, swim or simply sun bathe, there's always a beach for us. I love being in water so going to the beach is always a treat for me. One time with Yvi and Rachael, we REALLY went for a swim. We couldn't stop laughing the whole time as the currents pulled us back and forth. At one point, Rachael got herself caught in a whirlpool. It was all in good fun.

Surfing at Blouberg Beach. Well, at least TRYING to surf.

                                

Bakkies - Bakkies are essentially pick-up trucks. They are everywhere here, every second vehicle is a white Bakkie. I'm being stereotypical here but three type of people drive Bakkies. First, you get the big Afrikaans guy. His Bakkie is always spotless. Then you get the soccer mum who doesn't actually need a car that size. Sometimes her kids are sitting in the back. Then, you get the guys on their way to work... Bakkie overload! It's almost like a game of how-many-upright-people-can-we-squeeze-into-the-trunk. I think it should be legal to ride in the back of a Bakkie EVERYWHERE. It's so much fun. Think of the saved petrol when you can shove you're entire collection of friends and family into the trunk of your Bakkie.

Riding in a bakkie on the way to the beach. Surfboards and all!

                                     

Signal Hill: My favourite place in the entire world. From Signal Hill, Cape Town is a silent city. It's a beautiful golden glow that dips into the horizon where the waves come in. Table Mountain becomes a dominating sillhouete. You can hear yourself breathe. I'll never forget the feeling of sitting here with my friends, there wasn't a word between us as we gazed over Cape Town. 

Sitting on Signal Hill with my friends. Table Mountain to the Right.