I hope nobody was holding their breath waiting for another post from me. It's been so long since my last post that I think I have defeated the entire purpose of having a blog. Nonetheless, I will try to catch you up (slowly) on how my year panned out.
The December holiday hit at just the right time. Other foreign students staying for prolonged periods in South Africa have described hitting “the wall” after 3-4 months abroad. While I made quite a few local South African friends, at this point I had not seen another American in Pretoria in nearly 4 months. Most of the people I interacted with on a daily basis only spoke English as a second language and I slowly began to feel the toll of not being able to communicate at the level which I had been accustomed to. In addition, my sub-study was still a no-go with issues of funding and problems with getting the local laboratories setup.
It seemed that much of South Africa goes on holiday in December and students generally get the whole month off and often part of November and January. I had to remind myself that this was the summer holiday for the Southern hemisphere. Luckily my professor in SA assumed that I would be taking the whole month off as well. I certainly couldn’t complain. I didn’t have concrete plans for the first couple of weeks but everything would soon fall into place.
Now let me go back to how I met some of the locals. I initially found it difficult to make friends. Most of the residents of Hippokrates (my dorm, which locals pronounce Hippo-krat-us) were upperclassmen and had their own groups of friends and busy schedules. So for the first 2 weeks I left my door open and had a case of beer and wine ready to share with anyone who might be passing by. These attempts were only moderately successful, though I did manage to introduce myself to most of the students on my floor.
I finally decided to try my luck in the TV room which I discovered was a haven for all the hardcore soccer fans (most people in SA refer to the sport as soccer or football interchangeably). After introducing myself to those around me I started blankly at the screen, not knowing who was even playing. A few people asked me who my favorite team and who knows what stupid, fumbling response I managed. After they realized I was American they asked me if I at least watched MLS to which I could only laugh. I tried to explain that as far as the hierarchy of sports in America goes, you were more likely to see competitive fishing or hunting and certainly Nascar before you’d see MLS. Most people in SA seemed to fall into two camps…those that loved Manchester United and those that hated ManU. It seemed like they followed European soccer much more closely than any team or sport in their own country. This was difficult for me to grasp considering our insulated sports scene in the U.S. and the fact that we all rep our hometown teams as if our lives depended on it. But I could be wrong since I’ve seen some crazy local soccer matches as well (fans carry full loaves of bread and heads of lettuce…and if their home team scores a goal they proceed to stuff the entire food item into their faces. Pretty scary stuff. Cue up video of Kobayashi at a hotdog eating competition.)
As luck would have it, a young chap by the name of Yash (final year dental student) introduced himself and asked me if I’d like to join him and a few friends for a drink. Months later I would ask him what made him think that I was looking for fun. He replied, “Well I knew if a Yankee was sitting here watching soccer that he must be really freakin’ bored.” Dead on. He took me to Pireshin’s (a final year med student, 6th year) room where I would meet some more students: Yash’s girlfriend Yuvthi (also a dental student), Jeff (qualified doc, finishing up his community service year), Bhavna (Jeff’s fiancée, med student), Caiphus (med student, from Botswana), and Yassir (med student). They had a tight-knit group and readily accepted me. They would honestly become like a family to me, helping me in every way imaginable and keeping me out of harm’s way. Not to forget Bhavna’s and Yuvthi’s splendid cooking as well as Pireshin’s constant braais (aka bbq, SA’s national pastime), which all served to keep me constantly fed.
Now I had the last few weeks of the December holiday figured out but the first 2 weeks were still up in the air. As the holiday was approaching, Pireshin asked me if I would like to join him and the boys on a fishing trip. How could I refuse? We all piled into his backkie (pronounced buckkie, equiv to a pickup truck) and Yash’s car and made the journey to Sterkfontein Dam in the middle-of-nowhere, KwaZulu Natal. We brought enough meat and booze to feed a small army. It was like the Spring Breaks of college days past, except with a little African twist.
The setting was idyllic with long unpaved roads winding through the mountains alongside an immense dam. The closest town was perhaps 40km away and we were truly in an isolated part of the province. Our chalet was well equipped and comfortable and it overlooked the dam itself. It was peaceful beyond words and the sun rising and setting over the water was magnificent. It was an ideal holiday. Early morning fishing preceded an all-day braai, lounging and drinking beers. I even taught the boys how to play beer pong, which they enjoyed but led to the consumption of all our beer. We had to go back to town midway through the week to replenish our stores. Though we didn’t catch a single fish it was fun to drive the backkie off-road to the water’s edge and spend a few hours casting and reeling back giant wads of seaweed. It took me back to my childhood where a few friends and I would adventure to nearby creeks with our homemade fishing rods (made from sticks & fishing line) and spend the day chasing elusive fish and playing in the water. Oh and I completely forgot to mention the baby cobra I stumbled upon. I saw a tiny snake while we were fishing and of course I had to go provoking it with a stick. It reared its tiny body up and its head flared into that unmistakable cobra shape. Luckily I was able to run away before any of its larger friends decided to show up.
After this awesome start to the December holiday, I was invited by Yash to spend time at his house near Durban. He stays in Umhlanga Rocks which is a beautiful community on the coast north of Durban. It is walking distance from the Gateway Mall, the largest in Africa. While Yash promised me a quiet and relaxing week (I believed him since he spent more hours in bed than awake during the fishing trip), he kept me busy every day and every night. I don’t think I had ever seen him get ready so early on so many consecutive days. Nevertheless it was a great week spent hopping around Durban, the beach, Gateway Mall. At night we hit up different bars/clubs in Durban. At one of the clubs we got the full VIP treatment. One of Jeff’s friends was a businessman and knew all the owners of the clubs and all the bouncers. We got free entrance into an exclusive club and continued making our way up winding staircases. By the time we had reached the 4th story (and passed quite a few fire code violations), we had bypassed the separate VIP dance floor and were escorted into an invite-only section. It had couches and basically a catwalk overlooking the entire VIP dance floor. Jeff’s friend proceeded to buy about 5 different bottles (whisky, tequila, vodka, etc.) from the bar. Whenever he asked you what you wanted to drink, he would buy an entire bottle instead of a mixed drink. Bhavna asked for a Red Square (which is an energy beer) and he misheard her and brought a bottle of Johnny Walker Red Label whiskey instead. We partied late into the night until the sun was rising. This was much better than Boston where last call usually happens at 1:30 or 1:45am at best.
It was a great holiday atmosphere in Durban & Umhlanga Rocks. Durban seems to be the playground of South Africans, as Joburg & Pretoria pretty much empty out in December. It was still hard to believe that it was December and it was weird seeing reindeer and sleds on people’s roofs when it was 90 degrees outside. Yash’s family made me feel very welcome and his mother cooked delicious Indian food daily. They definitely helped me ease the homesickness that was starting to creep in at this point. His parents were also very interested in what it was like being a first generation Indian in the U.S. They asked me how it was like growing up there and what kind of Indian community existed. They also asked me about racism and race relations in the U.S. and what if any barriers I faced as a minority. His parents helped me understand what it was like for an Indian growing up in South Africa during Apartheid times. It was only then that it really hit home that if I had been born in this country how different life would have been for me. This was not some story from a history book or even as recent as the Civil Rights Movement in the U.S. This occurred during my lifetime.
This was around the time that I began reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, “A Long Walk to Freedom.” I must say that it is one of the best works of literature (fiction or non-fiction) that I have ever read. I have read many autobiographies in the past and though many were interesting, they were usually slow-moving and difficult to get through. This, however, was an 800 page page-turner. I knew Mr. Mandela must have been brilliant, but to actually read his story was mesmerizing. Even more remarkable is to think that he wrote it in English, likely his 3rd or 4th language. His book really put my time in South Africa into perspective. It helped me see how far South Africa has come in such a short time, but also how far South Africa still has to go. While his story was for the most part chronological, the way he wove small vignette after vignette really made me feel like I was walking in his shoes, learning from each defeat and triumphing in each victory. Some stories he told made you angry, others made you want to cry, and still others made you laugh. It is remarkable to think that a man who spent a greater part of his life in jail was able to come back to society and forgive those who took everything from him. I think we can all learn a great deal from Mr. Mandela. I believe everyone on this planet should read this work. It is that good.
“I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended.” In any case, I think I will sign out with a few more quotes from “A Long Walk to Freedom.”
"Any man that tries to rob me of my dignity will lose."
"The authorities (at Robben Island) liked to say that we received a balanced diet; it was indeed balanced – between the unpalatable and the inedible.”
“A nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but it’s lowest ones…”
“A man who takes away another man’s freedom is a prisoner of hatred, he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else’s freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity…. For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”
"I always knew that someday I would once again feel the grass under my feet and walk in the sunshine as a free man."
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