For instance, making a fire was initially quite a struggle. My first attempt had me throwing matches at stiff Namibian kindling that would burn for 45 seconds before going out, slightly charred, and harder to light the next attempt. I spent an hour angrily searching for flammable materials in my apartment to help start the logs, as June was a cold, cold month in Cape Town and my radiator was broken. I used to buy firewood each day from the Indian shopkeeper next to the slug. Tonight, I managed to build a small inferno with perfect log cabin structure using just a single match.
Secondly, I have mastered the art of not looking like I'm having a seizure while crossing the street. Mandy, most certainly, has not. Especially on the hilly and curvaceous stretch of Kloof I call home.
I don't blame her though. Traffic here comes from the opposite direction than you would expect in the states, and stepping off a curb can feel dangerous with all the honking and yelling as Africans inform each other of how and where they plan to go. Oddly enough, drivers here actually use their blinkers with greater frequency and accuracy than the drivers of Miami. Just saying.
Just at the end of my street is a stop for the jitney/informal/public cabs that rule Cape Town public transportation. Since staying here, I have yet to see more than one or two proper city buses, but the regularity of the jitneys is astounding. The minibuses are everywhere, usually with a designated door man operating the sliding panel, shouting as they approach each stop, calling for potential passengers, whistling, slapping his open palm on the roof or window.
The jitneys are not marked on the outside, as they appear to be just normal vans, but each has a piece of paper with a destination haphazardly shoved on the dashboard, and they are usually brimming with passengers moving throughout the city bowl and into the suburbs.
The drive to cram onto the public cabs is economic. The price is a flat rate fare for every passenger, no matter the distance they travel on their route, and is a mere six or seven rand. Private taxis, on the other hand, can take you half the distance for upwards of 50 or 60 rand, usually more if you're an obnoxious foreigner who doesn't bargain or watch the meter. I won't pretend to have mastered the public cabs, but I have ridden them a few times, and am confident I could fake it like a seasoned veteran if the need arose.
Navigating around the jitneys is an art. You can't be startled by the doorman's shrill calls or the driver's erratic, nonsensical maneuvering. You have to dodge,duck, dip, dive and dodge with the confidence that all the other drivers will not crush your pelvis as you make your way across traffic. I think I learned how to do that in New York. Yeah, I definitely learned that in New York.
On a related note, something I have not quite mastered is the art of owning the sidewalk. Cape Towners, mirroring their reversed traffic pattern, always seem to move to the opposite side you would expect while walking. This is uncomfortable, as well as feels counter intuitive. After the fifth or sixth time it happens, you start to wonder if everything you've ever learned is a lie. Thankfully, I quickly discovered that if I am walking Buddha, everyone seems to just evaporate from our path without my having to worry about which side they want to be on. This is both convenient and highly amusing.
Though, it seems my most impressive and popular new trick is making grilled cheeses with South African olive oil. I know my Italian family may be displeased to hear this, I think it might be far superior to their version. I know, I'm sorry, but I can't hide my infatuation with this stuff. The flavor is incredible. Also, to the displeasure of any Americans, I have more shocking news. American iced tea is horrible. Just terrible. Might as well be cat urine bad. Rooibos. That's the stuff. I literally feel pity for any person who has never tried red tea. Green? No way. Black? Hah. Going back to herbal teas? A sick joke. Rooibos is fascinatingly good. For more information on the topic, see Mandy's Red Latte experience.
But, let me just go on record now to say that red tea changed how I view beverages as a whole. My first two months here, I only drank rooibos based teas. And by only, I mean not even soda. Or water, really.
- Rh
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