Robben Island

^^^Outside of the prison
'Twas a day off when our IES coordinator told us that we were leaving for Robben Island, the home of Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners 16 years before being relocated. We met at 7:30 and arrived at the docks at 8:00. The ride took 25 minutes and we all stumbled out, more than half our group was ready to puke. The swells of the ocean were large, and the boat was enclosed: these were the primary catalysts of everybody's sickness. We then boarded a bus which toured us around the island. We saw the leper graveyard (the island use to be a home for banished lepers). We saw the limestone quarry where Mandela spent his days working, and made a few more stops that usually would be picturesque views of Cape Town, but the fog was thick and we could not see much. After the tour of the island, we got off the bus and toured through the islands main prison. Our tour guide was a former prisoner and added insight of his experiences. I was a little dissappointed with the tour of the prision because we blasted through the prision in a little over a half hour. It was very humbling to see the state of the prison. Aside from Mandela's 5x10ft cell, he was allowed to roam for an hour in a small courtyard the size of a tennis court. ^^^Mandela's Cell
I could see a week of this, but 16 years? That is almost the length of my life. I can not imagine the trails and tribulations the prisoners faced there. We got back home where we rested up to leave for the home-stay in Langa Township for the weekend.

Cameroon vs Nederland

Thursday was one of those days where you wake up ready for the day to be almost over. I don't say that in a negative sense, but in the sense that the World Cup game I was going to started at 8:30pm. I still had to go through school and four hours of service before I got there though. Classes went uneventfully (only 6 left) and service did as well (with the exception of the little girl who ate a used piece of gum I had put inside a wrapper in my pocket). Finally it was time. I donned my spirit and vuvuzela and took the train to downtown Capetown.This was an experience like I have never felt before. I could only imagine it being 10x the spirit of a Notre Dame game day. People were dressed in ridiculous outfits. There were a surprising amount of Netherland fans. I thought there would have been more Cameroon fans due to the distance from South Africa. While there is much to say about the experience, I have a hard time putting it into words without pictures, so this post will be picture heavy. There was an electricity in the air, and the anticipation of seeing gods of the pitch take to the field. It was amazing seeing people that I only recognized in video games and television up close-and REAL. Netherlands won 2-1. Even after the game, the loss/victory did not dampen spirits of any side. People still cheered, drank, and had a jolly time. This was a experience I will not forget.
^^^me joining in the deafening vuvuzela buzz. Each vuvuzela buzz boasts up to 120 db: the equivalent of a chainsaw or a car horn.
^^^ Click for the entire, full quality picture panorama

The High Society Club

While we have sampled much of the less-than-luxurious portion of SA, our group decided to get with the times and sign up for a wine tasting tour. Wine is a huge export in SA. While it is no France in terms of wine production, it is well known as an up-and-coming part of the world with a few wine estates starting to win big awards for their tastes. SA, especially the Cape Town area is one of the few, if not the only wine producing areas in Africa as a whole.
We woke up to meet outside our apartments to be picked up in two separate vans. We boarded and became acquainted with our guide: James, and the two other fine English gentlemen. We traveled out an hour into wine country named Stellenbosch, Paarl, and I forget the last, but it too ended with an -osch as many things do around here (I live in Rindebosch right next to Kristenbosch). We started of with our first of four wine estates: Goats Do Roam.^^^At Goats Do Roam, they had this structure outside the wine tasting area. Yes, that is where they sleep at the the top.
I will say that this was the best place of the day not only because of the wine but fot the ambiance and surrounding beauty. At this particular wine tasting, you were allowed 6 different wines from a menu, and they would serve you roughly a fourth of a cup. I drank the first two glasses of wine and quickly decided that my state may become unfavorable at the rate I was going if I was to have 30 tastings in the day. I immediately went to the ol' two sips (or four on a good wine) and then pitch- which, surprisingly, is actually perfectly normal in these estates. Maybe they were making me feel better by saying it, but I saw other tasters doing the same thing. For the rest of the day, I took up the theme of "tasting" rather than "drinking". ^^^Me with my official wine tasters badge.
In the end, I think it behooved me because while many of my compatriots were sick and burned out, I was going strong in the tasting and taking notes on the flavor differences.We toured 3 more farms, each as beautiful as the next. We laughed, joked, and had a good time. I do wish I was a bit more of a connoisseur but we all have to start somewhere. I also wanted to bring some wine back to the states, but I didn't know the rules on that. They were selling some good wines for less than $10 a piece!!
When we returned I went out for a run, ate a big meal to finish off the day.

Putting it All on the Table

Well, I woke up feeling extra adventurous and a need to see Cape Town. While most of our group wanted to go to the brie for the second week in a row, I decided I would rather do something I had not done yet. I managed to round up three other people to head up the mountain that overlooks Cape Town: Table Mountain. We called up a cab and arrived at the base around 2:00. We waited until the middle of the day so it would be warmer. Also, this time was a rare opportunity to head to the top of the mountain because a cloud usually hangs over the top despite the surrounding weather.^^^finding my inner Zen

We waited in line for about 45min and then took a cable way up to the top of the mountain. I would have liked to hike the trail, but between running and getting people rounded up, there were only so many hours in the day. We boarded and it zipped us up the mountain in under four minutes. The cool thing was that the inside floor of the car cab rotated so eveyone could get a great view. When we got to the top, we spent the next three hours taking pictures and soaking up the sun. On our return, we witnessed quite a sunset as well. We returned home feeling satisfied and accomplished. I doubt any of the others will have a chance to do this between our future schedule and the lack of clear weather.
^^^Me and a few buddies posing for our upcoming album cover.

WOW

6 days without blogging. I apologize for my lack of participation in this blog during the past week. A few of the days (schools days) were to uneventful to talk about and some other days were so eventful, I did not have time to talk about them. On Thursday-school, Friday- a group of people headed down to the waterfront again. I decided that since I had done this the day before, I traveled into Cape Town where I adventured about and watched the rather disappointing US game in the Coca-Cola Fan Park.. The fan park is a neat function placed in every major city in SA that allows fans to watch games in a rock n' roll fashion. We are talking big stage, lights, music, vendors everywhere, and many big screens to accommodate to the 3,000 person capacity. After the game I went to vendor to vendor for about 20 minutes and tried my hand at haggling. I was pretty impressed with myself. One particular object was selling for R180 and I was able to haggle it down to R80- just under half! I returned to the apartments where I enjoyed the fellowship and camaraderie of my classmates.
On Saturday we returned to the open market that opens every Saturday morning and I bought myself some curry and an Amurula shake. Amarula is a fruit grown in the southern region of Africa and has a very rich and distinct taste. As far as I have tried to describe, I have failed, but for old times sake: it taste like an orange/vanilla cream... almost like an orange push-pop. It is a very sweet fruit and is a popular flavor to add in any milky substance. On the way back, I had one of my first more terrifying experiences. I was walking with a group past a local McDonald's when a man in a dirtied trench coat and a full white beard broke his way out of the McDonald's. I man, presumably an employee carried window spray and was spraying him away so he would leave the employees and customers alone. The man was literally foaming yellow at the mouth as he screamed and shouted obscenities, a colorful combination that could weave an even greater tapestry than of one that could be found over Lake Michigan today. He threw things, carried a string of rags like a whip and began to lash about. I was so busy observing this behavior, that I found that the whole group I was with had shuffled away in fear, leaving me very vulnerable. I turned again to find him approaching me as he looked me in the eye, pointed his finger at me and proclaimed, "sh**, di**, f***ing rotten human scum, cr**, f*** you." Wise and philosophical words. Naturally I decided that in the best interest of my being to maybe give him a little more room. We called a taxi, and traveled back to our apartments. Some of us were getting stir crazy and decided to climb above campus and visit the Cicil Rhodes memorial. I honestly couldn't tell you what it was for because there was no description plaque. We spent some time admiring the architecture and the view of the city before returning home, washing our laundry and settling down for the featured game of the night.

Social oddities of SA

We discussed this in our lastest class and it is completely true, or so I have found. The first thing is that the people of SA lie. We lie, but they lie A LOT. They tell us to meet them somewhere, but they end up not being there. They agree on plans, and do not honor them. We were warned of this very attitude by our professor. People have no ill intentions when they lie to you, they just seek as little problems as possible. Just a way they have around here. Also, another thing is getting things done. SA is notorious for their lack of commitment to a deadline. At our orientation, we were told: "I will do it now"= "I will not do it".... "I will do it right now"="I will do it sometime today or tomorrow"... "I will do it now-now"=" I will actually do it in the next hour." So when we ask for things, we ask for them now-now.
Another observation I had was not given to me via lecture. It is the South African sense of ownership. I will be sitting on a chair in a bar watching the game and a number of people will come up and take my vuvuzela that was sitting next to me, blow it, and set it back down. When going airport security in Jo-burg, the security took it out for inspection and three or four officers proceeded to take turns blowing it. This is the same with small object of smaller value, they assume it is everybody's to share and there is no real ownership. I think it is kind of cool having this lax sense of ownership, but seems very quirky when first encountered.

School begins

Well, finally, roughly two weeks after arriving, we began school. We have classes Tuesday-Thursday from 8:30-4:30 . They are no doubt long days, and do not leave much time for doing anything else, but it is nice to have four day weekends. Tomorrow we do not have school. It is a national holiday here in SA: National Youth Day. The day is in memory of the youth who gave up their lives in dedication to the revolt against unfair education and rights during the apartheid era.
Yesterday it was raining, so we basically stayed inside all day. I traveled to a nearby outlet mall to look for some running shoes because I wsa hoping for a second pair of shoes. I found the shoes I was looking for, but surprisingly, they were more expensive here than back in the states. This is a stark contrast because things are usually much cheaper here. The average cost of a restaurant is $7. My shoes that I was looking for was about $120. This fluctuation in price is not too surprising because while most things are cheap here, other things are more expensive: cheese, honey, gum to name a few.
On my way to the outlet shops I was walking along the street looking for them when a poor man approached him. He asked me for a house. While I didn't have a house on my person, I asked him for directions to the shops, and gave him a breakfast in return. He was ecstatic. I did this action with our past class in mind. Am I really helping the problem? Am I showing a poor man a feast, only to turn him out again. Most people argued in our class that our presence here is worthless. We can't help, we can only know that there is a problem. We also talked about how we cannot see people as a problem to solve, but as a person. How can we do this if the problem is clear? There are many difficult questions to be answered here over the next few weeks. Any thoughts?

USA vs. England.

Yesterday was a pretty low key day, and thankfully so. Ever since I have come down here, it has been a very fast paced life and I needed a little time to recover and relax. We woke up, ran, and meandered ten minutes down the road to a food market that is held every Saturday. This place was a smorgasbord of delectable morsels. There was too much food, and all for a very good price. People were selling homemade lagers, fresh beef smawhichs, smoothies, waffles, honey, spices and much much more. As soon as we had eaten our fill, we went back to our apartments for some down time before the big game: USA vs. England.
Eventually the time came around, and we headed to a bar down the street to watch the game on the big screen. We pulled out sharpies and our red/white/blue shirts to display our American pride. I sharpied on both of my forearms. On my right it read: DON'T TREAD, on the left: ON ME. Also I wrote a letter on each of my knuckles so when I rapped my fists together it read: AMERICA! We were, like any other fan, rambunctious. We sang our national anthem before the beginning of the game and sang chants periodically. At halftime we took a break, went to the jukebox, and played Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus. The game continued, and I believed that everybody in the bar was cheering for England just to spite us. At either rate, we ended up in a tie, so our group started to play the jukebox and dance the night away. Well that happened for only a half hour before some intoxicated local wanted to join. While his enthusiasm was applauded at first, he took it too far and began get rough with a few of our women. A few of us saw that the girls were starting to get panicky (rightfully so), so we pried him off one of the girls tld him to stop and left shortly thereafter.

Orientation: Day II

It was the second and final day of orientation, after some boring information session and a 90min workshop on AIDS and how to avoid it, we boarded the bus for another township named Langa. Langa is similar to Soweto in terms of economic standing-in fact, I have found that township usually refers to a poor area. We toured around the area and got to know this migrant worker township. At the end, we had our IES orientation welcome dinner where we met some families we would be living with for a weekend.
Today marked the opening of the World Cup. The first game to be played was no other than SA vs. Mexico. While the match took place in J0-burg, I traveled downtown to an event called fan fest, an area to watch the game on big screens. This was an experience! I boarded the train that runs into downtown, and it was standing room only in the trains. Every single person sported a yellow shirt and some sort of Vuvuzela (a cheap plastic horn that makes an impressively large noise). It was so crowded, people had pried open the doors of the train an were hanging out them. The whole train roared with cheers and their national anthem (which is probably one of the coolest I have ever heard). We got to the Fan Fest, and it had long ago filled up with 15,000 people and the were many, many more. More than 200,000 people flooded streets playing their vuvuzelas and cheering. The atmosphere was ecstatic and unlike anything I have ever experienced before. This game wasn't even in this city! Finally, I had to get back my flat for a run before the game, then watch the game (1-1 draw). I wonder if this goes on for a month or if this is just a one day celebration. I purchased tickets to a game: Netherlands vs. Cameroon. The tickets were more expensive than I had hoped, but I would definitely regret not taking advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Orientation at University of Cape Town

Yes, I am officially a student of the University of Cape Town. I got my student ID to prove it. To understand the rules (which are pretty common sense), we had a two day orientation. The first day consisted of a few speakers on safety while in Cape Town. Last semester there was one student studying abroad that was murdered, so they are being extra cautious. Interestingly, we study abroad student are covered by a security company. Down here in SA police are shrimped by the size of protection agencies. It is a huge business down here. When you get in trouble down here, you call the security agency, and they send their armed guards. After lunch, they loaded on board a bus. We didn't really know where we were going, but the view was breathtaking. We were driving along the cliff sides that bordered the oceans and gave a spectacular view of Cape Town. We drove for a hour or more along these windy roads. While beautiful, it didn't work very well with the 8 members of our class that have been puking profusely-some of which had gone to the hospital the night before. IES required them to go on this orientation trip. The bus pulled to a stop and we jumped out at the point of the Cape of Good Hope. We got out, looked around at the gorgous sight and boarded again to head to Cape Point, the second most souther point on Africa. In effort to give a little more prestige, the government decided to call it the most southerly point of South Africa. While prestigous, it might not be as prestegious as Tontogany: the most north-western-ohio-little-townish-middle-of-nowhere-with-a-highshool-named-the-knights-and-a-store-named-JT's-with-some-big-grain-elevators-and-trains-that-go-by-very-slowly-and-surrounded-with-many-cornfields-and-where-the-Miller's-live-and-own-a-d4-bulldozer-and-use-to-be-home-to-a-dog-that-pooped-out-socks-and-when-joe-was-cleaning-the-poop-up-he-would-find-his-pricy-running-socks IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. That's pretty special if you ask me. In all seriousness though, it was a sight to behold. There was a cold breeze that get carried off the coast and comes right from Antarctica. Many scientist test this air because it is boasted as some of the World's purest. This a a view of Cape of Good Hope from Cape Point. We boarded back onto the bus and made one more stop. It was a small town known for having penguins, one of the only places Penguins can be found on Africa. These penguins were sports, and would get pretty close to you. They were loud little things too. They emitted a sound that resembled that of a donkey bray both melodiously and in loudness.We finally returned late and ate dinner at a pizza place called Debonair's. It was delicous, and I had too much to eat. A little money goes a long way in terms of food. I nice hot large sub- 18 inches- is about the equivelent of $6.00. Delicious.

Kruger Park: Part II

The next morning we got up at 3:30am for a 4:30am departure and a 5:30am arrival at Kruger to wait for the opening of the gates at 6:00am. This was probably the most miserable time for me thus far of my journeys. The safari jeep we were in was an open air jeep. This was miserable because in the drive that took us to Kruger took an hour of highway at a temperature roughly 35-40F. Yeah, I could have bundled up right? Nah, my stuff is still in Amsterdam, so a t shirt an a light sweatshirt had to do. Once we arrived at Kruger, we were allowed to get out and stretch, and a few of my buddies successfully pried me out of my fetal position to get warmed up. I eventually did, but there was a chill in my body for the remainder of the day. My worries were quickly forgotten when within an hour of our arrival, we saw our first: a rhino. It is important to know about the BIG 5. Thi Big 5 are the animals that make up SA currency on the bills: Water Buffalo, Rhinos, Elephants, Lions, and Leopards. People can easy spend an entire weekend in the park and only come out with a sighting with 1-2 of the five. It is difficult to see all 5. So, as a personal goal of mine, I challenged myself and our group to find the 5. We spent most of the day searching and we finally parked at 3:00pm with 3 of the 5 (Buffalo, Lion-far far away, and a rhino). We ate, rested, and then returned to our Jeeps for a night safari. Many of the predators are night hunters, so that was the best viewing time. Usually, as our guide told us, it is a sighting for a fews second, and usually the scamper back into the bush before you can get a good view. This was not so for us. We saw two male lions on the road, and they laid in front of us for about8 minutes before walking away. We saw elephants, lions, hippos, hyenas (one of the tougher sightings), and two leopards. By the end of day one, we had seen all of the Big 5.
Getting up the next day to go on a safari didn't seem to have the zest we had before because we had seen all of the possible animals that the park had to offer, except for one: a cheetah. Cheetahs are an endangered species and in Kruger Park, there are less than 150 of them. To put that into perspective, Kruger covers roughly the same area as Isreal. This park is massive and harbors less than 150. Low and behold, an hour into our safari, we saw a cheetah stalking some impalas. Pumped, I took some pictures for proof, but zoomed up so much that you could harldy make out the cheetah. It was equivalent of one of those pictures you see of the Loch Ness, of Big Foot. There was no evidence. I settled just for watch as the cheetah waited patiently for its prey. It sat in the grass watching them for more than 20min before it got up an scared away the impalas. We were disappointed because we wanted to see a take down, and now, surely, the cheetah would disappear. Instead, two more cheetahs jogged out about 80yds away and began wrestling with each other. Their banter and playfulness eventually migrated closer. How close? This close.

Yes, they are within feet of our car. Our guide was ecstatic. He said that in the 15 years he worked in the park, he had never seen a cheetah so close to human. He and the other guides agreed over the radio that this sighting was all in their top 5 sightings of all time. As you can image, we were going crazy at this sight, and the rarity of it. We were very lucky. Feeling fully satisfied we drove back to Old Vic's tavern with our guide, Crazy Dave. We played pool, ping pong and relaxed. It was a great day.

Kruger Park pt 1

After waking up extremely early, we boarded a bus to head to Kruger Park, a park roughly 5 hours drive away from J-burg. Instead of going directly there, we stopped at different areas for some sightseeing. We first stopped at a Happy River Canyon, the world's third largest canyon. We stopped here for only 30min and did not walk very far, but we got to a viewing point and were able to soak in the beauty of the valley. I can best describe it as a bushy Grand Canyon. There were not trees, but bushes about ranging 3-9ft tall. Surprisingly, this is the composition of the land that we saw over the following days on the safari. Personally, I always expected a wide open grassland where you could spot animals a mile away, but that was not the case on this safari. This misconception on my part can be largely attributed to Gary Larson. Anyway, we loaded back into the bus and traveled to a water fall.
This picture doesn't quite put the waterfall into perspective. The drop of the water is just a bit over 60m. It was odd to see the river snake through the dry bush and turn into something so spectacular, then continue on without anymore event. It truly was in the middle of nowhere. Next we drove to a peak of a mountain that overlooked Kruger Park. At the top of this mountain, the hot winds of Kruger were pushed up the mountain and cause a growth of a small rain forest on the top. It was a nice little lookout.
Finally we traveled to one more spot, an orphanage. We stopped by because our safari guide wanted us to see the organization he supports. We befriended the children (some of whom were dismissed by their families because of disabilities or AIDS). Although we didn't stay for more than twenty minutes, I could tell our groups presence really brightened the children's day. After a day of traveling for more than ten hours, we kicked up our feet and rested for the evening.

Soweto

On the outskirts of Johannesburg is arguably one of the most famous "townships" in South Africa. Although the natives refer to it as a "township" , the 2.5-3 million people seem to have me searching for a different word. If Soweto is a "township", I don't even know where to start in finding a description of Tontogany. This particular area is completely black and is comprised mainly of the Zulu tribe, with a little !Xhosa mixed in. Since this is the place with the #2 crime rate in SA, we were given an extra safe hostile covered in barb wire, and locked up at night. How unsafe? The average woman in Soweto averages two rapes in her lifetime. Inside, to my surprise, was a little paradise with a sandy backyard, a hammock, a fire, a bar, a pool table, and a foosball table. Not exactly what I expected right way in this very poverty stricken area. I was almost ashamed of being there because I felt like the classic rich, pretentious American. Honestly, it cost only 20-25$.
Once we got settled in, a park right outside the house was filled and waiting for anxious kids. As soon as we stepped onto the park, we were mobbed by kids screaming in their native language, and sticking their hands down our pockets in search for digital cameras for pics. They knew little english, but the do know, "Shoot me." While I was wondering at the emotional state of these children and the poverty that had driven them so crazy as a need for someone to kill them, I was informed by my RA, Moses, that they simply wanted me to shoot a picture of them, not to kill them. I obliged. Finally I had to put away my camera, but these children did not bore easily. Since we are so tall compared to the natives, they lined up asking us to pick them up and thrust them skyward. Again I obliged, but unfortunately, my arms are not used to run, thus are not used at all. I left the task to those stronger in arm and joined in a nearby soccer game. The soccer field had a 15 degrees slant to it, so one team would have the distinct advantage. I was on such a team. I truly enjoyed myself. While each child moved with the ball fluidly and with finesse, I powered down the field in the typical American way. These 50lb-100lb children were no match for my power. I defintly pulled some moves deemed in need of a red card, but they knew it was all in good humor. Maybe they didn't understand the humor as much as my need to compensate for my define lack of skill. Playing with these kids made me feel as if I had not played a day of soccer in my life.
After an enjoyable night in the hostile, we woke up, ate breakfast, and mounted bikes, as a group, and began our 3.5hr bicycle tour of Soweto: both the good areas and the bad. Here we really saw poverty up close and personal. We saw houses that were the size of two twin beds put side by side and would sleep roughly 8 men. Children ran through the streets and scavenged through piles of trash gathered alongside the streets in search for food. This picture to the right is the local butcher making deals with the locals. We would see him dissect an animal before our eyes, sell them, and wrap them up in newspapers. From this very shop we tasted the delicacies of Soweto. The first was a homemade corn beer served in a large white bucket which we shared with some locals. It resembled brown milk and was very sweet. The second thing was a drink of curdled milk which I could best decribe as sour yogurt, and finally the cheek of a cow. While they only use cow cheek because richer butchers do not fully utilize the heads of cows, they also hold the meat as sacred and call it "Brain meat." It was not to different from your normal beef. We biked by Nelson Mandela's house where he lived for many years while working in J-burg.
We biked back finally, and got into our hostile. There I got into a discussion with one of the locals and an obvious drug dealer. He spoke of the ease of using weed. He was right. Although the drug is illegal, you would see policemen pass by people smoking weed and not even hesitate to stop for even as much as a reprimand. He told me where to find my own weed. About 400m away from our hostile, past some railroad tracks was a secret field of pot that he told me about, just in case I wanted to steal some. I told him I was grateful for the tip, but I wasn;t interested. Again he said he could sell me some, for about 5 rands a joint (70 cents). I was blown away. A single joint in the state runs at least $50 dollars more. Drugs are an obvious problem. I fear, and almost got the sense that most youth in Soweto were involved in drugs. Drugs are a root for most of the violence in Soweto, so it is a sense of helplessness to see a problem, but have no idea how to even go about starting to fix it. Regardless, the dealer and I sat under the night sky by the fire exchanging stories and huddling closer to the campfire. He smoked at least 1 joint per 10 minutes. I could see no way he could ever make it past 50. I finally retired to my bed, ready to make a trip to Kruger Park.

Jo-burg

Well, welcome to Jo-burg. I flew here the day after I arrived in Cape Town. With my backpack filled with spartan supplies, I ventured out of the airport and into the biggest city in South Africa. Above, you can see the premier stadium of Jo-burg. This is where many games are played, and the eventual host stadium of the World Cup finals. Despite many beliefs the World Cup is not held in one place like the Olympics, but in several places all over South Africa. This place, however, it the golden child of Bafana Bafana Football (soccer for all unknowing Americans). Bafana Bafana? It literally means, "the boys, the boys" It is the name of the South African national soccer team. From the airport to the city, streets were lined with flags, ridiculous decorations, and other tributes to the Cup. This place really is (despite what the critics say) ready for the World Cup. Once we got to our hostile and settled down, we got back on a bus and spent the day going about the city seeing sights such as parliament, the city hall, and going to the top of the tallest building in SA which is 20 or so stories shorter than the Sears tower in Chicago.
At the base of the tower was the official display of jerseys (by Nike) to be used in the Cup. We were informed by staff on the science between the jerseys and the cleats. Nike created about 4 different cleats for football players just to serve different purposes to different players. One was created for speed, one for control, one for accuracy, and one classic kangaroo skinned shoe. The one I am pictured by below is to be worn by both Drogba and Messi. This place lives, breathes, and talks soccer non-stop. The only sport that compares would be Rugby, but it is overshadowed, and rightfully so.

Yes, this is a statue made of Coca-Cola crates. SA is sponsored by Coke. You would not be in SA if you did not see a Coke ad always in view.
Below is a statue made completely of yellow soccer balls. This was hanging right above the Nike station and had banners around it displaying the teams competing in the World Cup.
Our visit was not very long at all in Jo-burg. We soon went to the outskirts where we lived in our hostile for two days and leaned about life in Soweto. That is to come in the next issue. But while we learned a bit about Jo-burg, I found something a little more interest in the culture around sports in this place. I would say 2 in 5 people are wearing their Bafana Bafana shirts and others in support of other teams. This city really is supportive of sports not only in the Cup but culturally as well. Much of the countries unity can be attributed to sports (see Invictus). I can see it even happening now. Tribes and nations of Africa are coming together and looking to fight a good fight. People are together, jobs are being created, and their economy who has been having difficulty lately, is seeing benefits.

Arrival: May 31st

Well, sometimes I guess getting to the destination is the most important. I departed from Detroit about 20 hours after I arrived at my house for Amsterdam. The flight was about 7.5 hours long, and we landed at 7:30 am local time. As I exited of the plane, I knew I was in for a wait. I did not even bother looking at my ticket. Instead I looked around the airport for a window so I could get a good look at the landscape, but I found it hard to see past the jet houses of the port. Dissappointed, I meandered around for a few minutes looking at some of the local stores that were selling World Cup accessories. Out of curiosity I glanced up at a television to notice that there were two flights to Cape Town. After checking which one was mine, I found I had that I had roughly 15 minutes until my plane took off, and the status read: GATE CLOSING. Trying to keep calm, and swearing to myself that I would never be the person to run to my next flight, I looked around for a map. So, naturally, I chose a direction and ran. It was not a minute later until I found that direction was a dead end and hoofed it in the other direction dodging ladies in headdresses and a few Chinese fellows taping the televisions that gave departures ( a riveting home video no doubt). Regaurdless I ran, and found my way to my spot whic was 2/3 of the was across the entire amsterdam airport, and found I had to go through security again to get on this plane. Luckily, the line was short since I was the second to last passenger on the plane.

As much as I was happy to have such a short layover that would get me to my destination more quickly, I realized as soon as I sat down that that was only going to be the only exercise I got during the entire 22 hour ordeal. Things didn't improve much from there. 20 minutes into the flight, I was informed that my check in did not make my plane and would be shipped at a later date. 5 hours into the flight we were given little bottles of water that looked like a pudding snack. The tops had foil that peeled off and would allow you to drink out of the Jell-O shaped container. At a particularly tense part of the movie "Legion," I squeezed the water container and it was no match for my super strength. It exploded all over me and the passenger next to me who was, needless to say, not to conversational to start with. I said sorry a number of times which probably sounded more like a plea to keep our mutual agreement that I would put my elbow on the back of the armrest and his on the front. It didn't work. He had the armrest for the rest of the ride, and he splayed his legs a little further than needed.
Upon arrival, I walked out and found a few Domers and went to the lost luggage claim where I was informed my luggage would arrive on Wednesday afternoon, about two hours after my group left for a safari. I know have a single set of clothes that is expected to last 8 days. As a side note, I found that I had forgotten to factor my travels into account for arrival. I showed up in SA winter with nothing more than shorts and t-shirt for these 8 days. I thought I had lost my Malaria medicine with my check-in as well, but I discovered it this morning in my carry-on. So it looks like fortune spun my way there.
I stepped out of the port pleasantly pleased that Africa is up to date around here. My proof: they were selling Toy Story 3 edition Buzz Lightyears. The music, however, was about 6 months behind America's. The I have heard around here so far has predominately been American Pop/Rap/Hip-Hop. Curiosly, they were not sung by the same singers, but by wanna-bes. The first song I heard was a rendition of Gaga's "Pokerface" with a bit a an opera twist to it.
We were to report to a predetermined hostel and we were taxied (woah, this guy is driving on the wrong side) to it. Again, I expected at the rate of roughly $15 it would be no more than a glorified plywood maze, but to my surprise, it was a furnished dorm room. In fact, each person has one room with four beds. Dutifully, I proposed to my professor that we wake up in shifts and make the most of our money by switching beds, but I ended up choosing the one with the least hair in it. In SA, pickpocketing is terrible, but the biggest loss and market here is passports. The hostel provides safes to place your passports in. If a thief around here was to choose whether he would steel a passport or a computer, it would be a passport. They are known for changing their pictures and black marketing them for a large sum. It is a free ticket to America.

I honestly don't know why my computer insists that that section be underlined, but I can't fix it, so I apologize if it is hard on your eyes. I have spent an entire day here and I am already thrilled with the opportunities that lie in store for me. So much to do, so little time. I will try to update the blog on a daily basis, but I am not going to bring my computer on a safari, so you will not hear from me until next week, but I am more than open to hear your comments/ trip suggestions/ questions.

PS The pictures above are the entrance to my hostel which, like other houses around me, heavily guarded. First security checks you into the premise, than you have to go through two more gates that are unlocked by code, and finally escorted to your room. If someone manages to get past the gates though, the door locks on the rooms are useless because one can open all of the doors with a key regardless of its shape. We were just handed a stereotypical looking key and told us it would open what we needed.
Secondly, our hostel manager informed us that her cook was the finest in our section of Cape Town (Observatory or OBZ for short). I say, she could really lay out bread and peanut butter. The only cooking involved was a massive pot of cold grits. If this is the finest cook in OBZ, I am a wee bit nervous about the cuisine of CT.