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.