How I Hate Linear Time: What happened to Cyclical African Time?
Yep, it’s another blog so soon after the last one. I told you we had turned a new leaf. Diligent blogger I am. Blame it on Jean being away and leaving me stranded. As per previous blog, I can’t drive a stick/manual car so I’ve enjoyed the luxury of being chauffeured around since Jean arrived. Now that she’s taken her good news on the road to journalists everywhere I am stuck.
We don’t have satellite television (satellite dishes are prohibited by the bylaws of this lovely development we live in) and I don’t tend to watch much TV other than news. I tried to get into one of the many soap operas here (there must be like 5 million) but it quickly became apparent that the Xhosa news made a lot more sense even if I couldn’t understand a word. In the soap they were holding a funeral for someone who had died in a fire. But, of course, in universal soap style, he wasn’t really dead. He had managed to escape and was actually alive and watching the funeral from his secret hiding place…AGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. As with all things here, there appear to be black soap operas and white and coloured soaps, same for game shows.
One of the things I find so fascinating is the language aptitude. People flow effortlessly from one language to the next. There are eleven official languages here and so all are fair game for interviews etc. That also means there aren’t always subtitles. Oftentimes, while watching the SABC English news broadcast they’ll interview someone who starts out in English and then switches to another language and they don’t translate. People at work do that as well. I’m actually quite enjoying the sounds of all the different languages (especially the Xhosa clicks) and getting used to the fact that I can’t expect to comprehend everything that goes on around me. I’m also determined to learn the national anthem, which includes several of the official languages. Very difficult to memorize a bunch of sounds that make no sense to me but I’m determined. I think I’ve got it when I’m singing along to the Ladysmith Black Mombaza version I have on my ipod but then I turn it off and I realise I can’t get past the 3rd word syllable unassisted.
Yesterday, we went in search of the whales in Hermanus. Hermanus is a lovely seaside town along the Indian Ocean. It’s about 120 km from Cape Town and supposed to be the best place to see whales. The travel guide says you can expect to see about 70 whales during the season, which ends in November. Well, we had no luck. The whales heard we were coming and decided they’d go hang out elsewhere. It was still a beautiful drive and we got to see a bunch of dazis (I’ll confirm the spelling and correct this). They are little beaver like animals with no tails. Jean bought some nice necklaces from the craft market before we headed back to the city. The verdict: Hermanus is lovely. Judging by all the signs there and all the recommendations we got, it’s truly a great place to view whales. However, if you’re in SA after October, don’t hold your breath. Go for the drive and hope for the best.
We realised yesterday that we forgot to blog about our 10-km run in Stellenbosch a few weeks ago. Even though neither Jean nor I had run in months we (well, more like I – Jean did register her objection) decided the 10km run would be a great way to see the winelands. We didn’t know exactly how to get to the winelands (we had directions but we’d never been) or how long it would take us to get there. That notwithstanding, I decided that morning that Jean absolutely deserved to have 2 songs she had been telling me about on her ipod for the run. She couldn’t be expected to run 10km without those two songs. That would be cruel and unusual punishment. So, we wasted even more time with me downloading the song. When we finally got on the road, and made our first wrong turn, it became apparent that we might be late for the run. But, this is Africa and I am nothing if not African, so I assured Jean that everything in Africa starts on African time. In fact, I am a great proponent of cyclical time (it’s my excuse for being late – “us Africans are programmed differently”). Well, to my complete dismay, Cape Town is not quite as African as I had imagined. The race started on time and we were very late. There were no runners in sight. Even the walkers and 5km runners who started later were long gone. In fact, we didn’t even know where or whether to run. After asking a few people, some official looking person pointed us in the general direction. Thankfully, we soon caught up with the walkers so we were able to follow the trail and finish the race. We spent the first 10 minutes stumbling around laughing. Like we weren’t embarrassed enough, we found out at the end of the race that they don’t track individual race times so they assumed we started on time. I’ve been too embarrassed to check the published race time. I blame the darn British and Dutch for bringing their crazy notions about time to Africa. If they had just stayed in their respective countries, Jean and I might have had a respectable performance on that race. But, oh no, they had to come and colonize the place. The price we have to pay for colonization and domination!
Stellenbosch is so beautiful. There’s a lovely long stretch with several wine farms. It was so gorgeous that we flirted with the idea of a hike but settled for a high carb breakfast and strawberry picking. We’ve got some funny pictures of us hanging with the multitude of scarecrows on the strawberry farm and of the ostriches we passed on our way home.
We also went to a fun women’s party called Hectic on Hope (I love the name). It’s on the last Saturday of the month. So, if you’re a queer woman (no men allowed) and planning on visiting and want to go to a fun party plan to be here at the end of the month. There are also lots of straight clubs on Long Street and gay male clubs in Greenpoint. For those, any weekend will do (lucky buggers). Plan to arrive unfashionably early if you’re into anything besides house music. They LOVE house music here. Starting from about 10:30 its pure house. Jean loves house music. I HATE house music. I can abide the first couple of songs but the beat just seems so repetitious. But y’all know Jean isn’t usually much of a dancer, so it was fun just to see her get really excited about the music and trying to convince me to dance for a change.
So, where is jean now? She’s on her way to Maputaland in the heart of Zululand, Kwazulu-Natal province. She left today. Her flight was delayed in Johannesburg for several hours due to a bad thunderstorm. I just booked a hotel for her to stay in Richards Bay by the airport for the night. She’ll have to do the 2 ½ hour drive to Maputaland at the crack of dawn – she has to do a training session at 9. In my search for a hotel, I also discovered that Maputaland is a malaria zone and neither of us is yet on anti-malarial. We knew she’d need it for Zambia and that we’d need it for our holiday trip but we had no idea about Maputaland so now we’re a bit worried about that. She’s going to put our plan B into effect i.e. spray bug spray in her room and lock herself in there with the windows closed at night, stay away from water especially stagnant water etc. Anyway, we’re keeping our fingers crossed.
Still trying to decide if I’ll join her in Lesotho next week or go with her to Zambia the following week so we can spend my birthday together.
Bye for now.
Omo
We don’t have satellite television (satellite dishes are prohibited by the bylaws of this lovely development we live in) and I don’t tend to watch much TV other than news. I tried to get into one of the many soap operas here (there must be like 5 million) but it quickly became apparent that the Xhosa news made a lot more sense even if I couldn’t understand a word. In the soap they were holding a funeral for someone who had died in a fire. But, of course, in universal soap style, he wasn’t really dead. He had managed to escape and was actually alive and watching the funeral from his secret hiding place…AGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. As with all things here, there appear to be black soap operas and white and coloured soaps, same for game shows.
One of the things I find so fascinating is the language aptitude. People flow effortlessly from one language to the next. There are eleven official languages here and so all are fair game for interviews etc. That also means there aren’t always subtitles. Oftentimes, while watching the SABC English news broadcast they’ll interview someone who starts out in English and then switches to another language and they don’t translate. People at work do that as well. I’m actually quite enjoying the sounds of all the different languages (especially the Xhosa clicks) and getting used to the fact that I can’t expect to comprehend everything that goes on around me. I’m also determined to learn the national anthem, which includes several of the official languages. Very difficult to memorize a bunch of sounds that make no sense to me but I’m determined. I think I’ve got it when I’m singing along to the Ladysmith Black Mombaza version I have on my ipod but then I turn it off and I realise I can’t get past the 3rd word syllable unassisted.
Yesterday, we went in search of the whales in Hermanus. Hermanus is a lovely seaside town along the Indian Ocean. It’s about 120 km from Cape Town and supposed to be the best place to see whales. The travel guide says you can expect to see about 70 whales during the season, which ends in November. Well, we had no luck. The whales heard we were coming and decided they’d go hang out elsewhere. It was still a beautiful drive and we got to see a bunch of dazis (I’ll confirm the spelling and correct this). They are little beaver like animals with no tails. Jean bought some nice necklaces from the craft market before we headed back to the city. The verdict: Hermanus is lovely. Judging by all the signs there and all the recommendations we got, it’s truly a great place to view whales. However, if you’re in SA after October, don’t hold your breath. Go for the drive and hope for the best.
We realised yesterday that we forgot to blog about our 10-km run in Stellenbosch a few weeks ago. Even though neither Jean nor I had run in months we (well, more like I – Jean did register her objection) decided the 10km run would be a great way to see the winelands. We didn’t know exactly how to get to the winelands (we had directions but we’d never been) or how long it would take us to get there. That notwithstanding, I decided that morning that Jean absolutely deserved to have 2 songs she had been telling me about on her ipod for the run. She couldn’t be expected to run 10km without those two songs. That would be cruel and unusual punishment. So, we wasted even more time with me downloading the song. When we finally got on the road, and made our first wrong turn, it became apparent that we might be late for the run. But, this is Africa and I am nothing if not African, so I assured Jean that everything in Africa starts on African time. In fact, I am a great proponent of cyclical time (it’s my excuse for being late – “us Africans are programmed differently”). Well, to my complete dismay, Cape Town is not quite as African as I had imagined. The race started on time and we were very late. There were no runners in sight. Even the walkers and 5km runners who started later were long gone. In fact, we didn’t even know where or whether to run. After asking a few people, some official looking person pointed us in the general direction. Thankfully, we soon caught up with the walkers so we were able to follow the trail and finish the race. We spent the first 10 minutes stumbling around laughing. Like we weren’t embarrassed enough, we found out at the end of the race that they don’t track individual race times so they assumed we started on time. I’ve been too embarrassed to check the published race time. I blame the darn British and Dutch for bringing their crazy notions about time to Africa. If they had just stayed in their respective countries, Jean and I might have had a respectable performance on that race. But, oh no, they had to come and colonize the place. The price we have to pay for colonization and domination!
Stellenbosch is so beautiful. There’s a lovely long stretch with several wine farms. It was so gorgeous that we flirted with the idea of a hike but settled for a high carb breakfast and strawberry picking. We’ve got some funny pictures of us hanging with the multitude of scarecrows on the strawberry farm and of the ostriches we passed on our way home.
We also went to a fun women’s party called Hectic on Hope (I love the name). It’s on the last Saturday of the month. So, if you’re a queer woman (no men allowed) and planning on visiting and want to go to a fun party plan to be here at the end of the month. There are also lots of straight clubs on Long Street and gay male clubs in Greenpoint. For those, any weekend will do (lucky buggers). Plan to arrive unfashionably early if you’re into anything besides house music. They LOVE house music here. Starting from about 10:30 its pure house. Jean loves house music. I HATE house music. I can abide the first couple of songs but the beat just seems so repetitious. But y’all know Jean isn’t usually much of a dancer, so it was fun just to see her get really excited about the music and trying to convince me to dance for a change.
So, where is jean now? She’s on her way to Maputaland in the heart of Zululand, Kwazulu-Natal province. She left today. Her flight was delayed in Johannesburg for several hours due to a bad thunderstorm. I just booked a hotel for her to stay in Richards Bay by the airport for the night. She’ll have to do the 2 ½ hour drive to Maputaland at the crack of dawn – she has to do a training session at 9. In my search for a hotel, I also discovered that Maputaland is a malaria zone and neither of us is yet on anti-malarial. We knew she’d need it for Zambia and that we’d need it for our holiday trip but we had no idea about Maputaland so now we’re a bit worried about that. She’s going to put our plan B into effect i.e. spray bug spray in her room and lock herself in there with the windows closed at night, stay away from water especially stagnant water etc. Anyway, we’re keeping our fingers crossed.
Still trying to decide if I’ll join her in Lesotho next week or go with her to Zambia the following week so we can spend my birthday together.
Bye for now.
Omo
posted by omoplusjean at 12:10 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home