The Land of Open Windows

One of the biggest surprises about Cape Town has been the influence of its weather on the people. In my Kentucky home, weather shifts (often quite dramatically) and the people shift with it. Sure, we’ll complain about an especially rainy week or the sticky humidity of summer in the mid-South, but we carry on as though the setting doesn’t change the story.

Here, where the majority of the year is sunny and warm, the weather dictates your days. There is a rainy season – winter – in which many Capetonians vacation to warmer places outside the Western Cape. Mother Nature’s real power here, though, is the wind.

“It’s too windy for the beach today.”

“Be sure to close your windows tonight as the winds will be picking up."

 “It’s unsuitable weather for paragliding today.”
“Table Mountain was closed because the winds are too dangerous.”

In Cape Town’s defense, the winds can be quite vicious. I’ve had to rework my footing in order to stay upright against the wind. I make outfit choices based on the blustery ways of the days. I’m woken up in the night because of the wind’s clap against my thin windows. I wait until I’m inside a building to make phone calls because the other end of the line is sure to struggle to hear me.

Last week I visited a Rotary club meeting as a guest of my host counselors. I sat next to a very interesting Rotarian couple, and they were full of inquisition and reflection. When I explained that I am from the US, the wife told me that their daughter played soccer at the University of Alabama. Without any sort of prompt, she immediately remarked on how isolated American buildings feel to her. I asked why, and she said, “Those double-paned windows. You can’t hear anything that’s happening outside. You can’t hear the rain, nor the wind. It’s as if you’re entirely cut off from the world you live in.”

She did make a good point. There’s little isolation to be had here in the land of open windows, where I fall asleep with a blanket of fresh air gusting over me every few seconds. Air conditioning and heat are considered lavish luxuries, house shares are common and ever-changing, internet access is expensive and limited, and you are always in touch with nature – be it the rampant wind or the beacon mountains.

A cafe just up the street from us lets the weather in.
Photo credit: www.missmoss.co.za

Beleza, a restaurant we frequent, always has its giant windows open.
Photo credit: www.modernoverland.com

It’s all so characteristic of this place that I can already tell it’ll be one of the things I nostalgically miss. Here, you don’t avoid nature and spend endless time and energy keeping your container constant; you identify with it and let it determine your story. When the winds blow in Kentucky, or when my car air conditioner stops working and I’m forced to roll down my windows, I’ll flashback to memories of South Africa. I find comfort in that.