Cape Town: By the Numbers

It's no secret that I am a language person. I am passionate about the power of a well-constructed sentence, and I thrive on the feeling of finding the perfect word(s) to describe something intangible. Travel provides endless opportunities to explore words... in crafting descriptive messages sent home, in deciphering location-specific phrases and slang words, in discussing tough concepts with people of a different perspective.

There's another side of traveling that doesn't come so naturally for me. No matter where in the world I find myself, I'm inevitably left with a period of time hallmarked by the overwhelming feeling of numbers and conversion formulas swimming around my mind. With that being said, I thought I'd take a different approach for this update. My adjustment to Cape Town... by the numbers.

Dear USA (and I really do mean dear),
Why must you make it so complicated?
Yours truly, International Travelers

One of the most obvious adjustments to a new country is the currency. The unit of currency here is the South African Rand (ZAR). Like most foreign currency, it's much more brilliantly designed, boasting illustrations of the "Big 5" animals of South Africa and, on the recently issued editions, Nelson Mandela's portrait. As I write this, the exchange rate sits at 9.78 ZAR per 1 United States Dollar, meaning that my R17 coffee costs $1.74 and my R30 taxi ride from Long Street costs $3.07. This is especially overwhelming when you're trying to budget according to a spendable amount of US dollars, but all of your expenses are in rand.

Currency: South African Rand

Checking the weather forecast is still incredibly puzzling to me. When you've grown up with the Fahrenheit system of temperature, it's really hard to decipher the appropriate attire for 17 degrees Celcius. I, of course, learned the conversion for Celcius to Fahrenheit at various points of my education, but that doesn't mean I can calculate the conversion quickly. I usually end up typing it into my Google search bar to find that 17 degrees Celcius is (a more understandable) 62.6 degrees Fahrenheit. As my friend Michael Mizrahi (@miz) tweeted not too long ago, "Wanted: a weather app called 'Yesterday' that tells me if the weather will be warmer or colder than yesterday. That's all I need."

Weather forecast... in Celcius.

Let's not forget the whirlwind of confusion that ensues when an American, raised on the customary (imperial) units of the USA, gets dropped into a world of metric measurements. Speed limit signs, recipes, and nutrition labels all become a blur. What does it mean if koeksisters have 1879 kJ of "energy" per 100 g? Oh, right... 447 CALORIES. How fast is 120 km per hour? Of course... 74.5 mi per hour. And how much of a 750 ml bottle of vinegar should I use for 2 cups? Let me set up a casual algebra problem. Aha... two-thirds of it.

Nutritional information for koeksisters,
a super sweet South African treat

A South African speed limit sign

Needless to say, it's easy to become overwhelmed by the conversions. I often find myself laughing, though, because it's almost as all my math and science teachers of the past are mocking me. Those unrealistic word problems that force you to construct and sort out an equation to solve for x? Not so unrealistic anymore. All those teachers needed to do was wag a finger in my face and say, "You'll need this when you travel abroad someday!"

Teaching the Teacher

About two weeks ago, I agreed to add an Elementary II level class to my schedule. Another teacher was unable to finish the term, and I thought Why not? and accepted the challenge. Little did I know, that agreement lined me up for what must become one of the most memorable lessons I’ve ever taught anyone anywhere. And that's a bold statement.

As I’ve mentioned before, I teach English at a local refugee center that serves people who have come to Cape Town from Sub-Saharan countries such as the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Malawi, the Republic of the Congo, Somalia, Rwanda, the Central African Republic, and Burundi. We follow the English for Life curriculum, meaning most of the lessons are already outlined and ready to be taught.

Source: http://www.ilike2learn.com/ilike2learn/
Continent%20Maps/Africa%20Political%20Large.gif

I was welcomed to the refugee center for Monday’s lesson by a protest occurring just outside the door, which left the atmosphere rather hectic. The very determined group of protestors was singing and chanting, which poured into the open windows of our classroom. I knew this would affect our lesson, but I was ready for the challenge.

The day’s lesson encompassed “everyday jobs” like sweeping the floor, taking out the garbage, cooking dinner, and making the beds. Through exercises such as “read and repeat,” “write and share,” and general question-and-answer conversation, the students practice reading, speaking, and writing English. I never expected the lesson to turn around and teach me. However, it certainly did. It didn’t take long for gender roles and gender equity to come into play.

Teacher’s question: “When do you do the dishes?”
Student’s statement: “I don't. That’s a woman’s job.”

I should have seen this one coming, as I knew most African cultures were rather rigidly male-dominant and sensitive to gender roles. After a few exchanges such as this one, I decided to take a different approach. I started posing scenarios that involved “my husband” in order to take the personal element away. After a few of these scenarios, a female student in the back of the room interjected.

Teacher’s statement: “My husband cooks dinner, and I do the dishes.”
Teacher’s question: “Who cooks dinner?”
Student’s statement: “Teacher, you always say husband. Why can’t you say wife?”

Well, my friend, that’s a great point. I most certainly could.

Welcome to the classroom, sexual orientation issues. From here, all sorts of students began chiming in with their own opinions of sexual orientation – a few in English, and many in French, which I couldn’t understand and, therefore, couldn't monitor. I reclaimed the students’ attention with a rather loud declaration: “Everyone's family, everyone's life, everyone's house is different. And that is okay, right?"

Thankfully, my statement was greeted with amiable head nodding and general agreement, with only a few outliers. With a sigh of relief, another high-tension moment settled. We carried on with the lesson under this notion, but one more disruption was in store.

Somewhere in the distance outside, there was an unidentified explosion sound. It was most likely something construction-related, or perhaps a car crash of some sort, so I kept teaching. It was quickly apparent from the far off look in a few students’ eyes, though, that their minds wandered elsewhere: war.

Because most of my students are from war torn parts of Africa, it isn’t unusual for war to be a part of everyday conversation. I’ve run into statements like “I live with my daughter, but my husband is in the DRC because of the war” before. However, the students’ reaction to the explosion sound caught me off guard. With a few whispers that soon escalated, the students exchanged recognition of the sound. “Is it war?” one student asked me, before a French conversation spread like wildfire throughout the classroom.

Source: http://pslarson2.files.wordpress.com/
2011/01/hotspots.png?w=894

In this image, the circles represent conflict events.
As you can see, many of the countries my students
call home are highly affected by conflict.

Forget the everyday jobs. Monday’s lesson was one intended for me. It was a lesson in context, in culture, and in perspective. When reviewing the lesson for the day, I should have anticipated some of the sensitivities I encountered, knowing the cultural context of my students. I also got to apply classroom management to a high stress atmosphere, which is certainly a good skill to "rehearse" from time to time.

And when the explosion sounded in the distance, I learned a valuable lesson in perspective. I counted my blessings. For me, war happens on TV, in the news, and in history books. For my students, war happens in the not-so-distant memories of your home. I won't soon forget the look on the face of the student who so meagerly asked, "Is it war?"

South Africa, as many locals will tell you, isn't "real" Africa. And while there may be a distinction between the rest of Sub-Saharan Africa and this little corner of the world, working at the refugee center has given me a unique opportunity to learn about other parts of Africa from those who just recently uprooted their lives to pursue opportunity and possibility. For them, English class is a gateway, and I have to agree. It's reciprocal; English class is certainly a gateway for me, too.

Coffee Culture in Cape Town

If my life were condensed into a biography, my love affair with coffee would deserve its own chapter. Since I can remember, I've loved adored coffee. Even as a young girl, I'd join my parents for a cup of Folger's at the kitchen table. No sugar, please. No milk, thanks. Just like my parents drink it. 

My tastebuds have moved beyond Folger's, though. A few years behind the bar at Starbucks primed my palette for a love of sweet espresso and dark roasted coffee. College's busy agenda transformed my affinity for coffee into an attachment, an addiction. My corner at Starbucks became my sanctuary, and that familiar white ceramic mug held a "sippable" comfort blanket. 

Countries serving Starbucks...
note the sparse supply in Africa.

When I packed up my suitcases and moved to the other side of the world, I had an admittedly ridiculous amount of anxiety about coffee in South Africa. Sure, Africa produces some of the very best coffee beans, but would Cape Town be able to serve my ritualistic relationship with coffee? I knew there was no Starbucks in South Africa, which was unsettling. Having been here for four months, though, I can laugh at my premature concerns. Yes, coffee culture is bit different here than in the United States, but it is most certainly thriving. 

Filter coffee, which is ubiquitous in the United States, is scarce in South Africa. For most people, you have two options: espresso-based drinks (yum) or instant coffee (yuck). If instant coffee is the only option, I usually opt for tea instead... and that's saying something. However, locals love instant coffee, so it must be a matter of what you grow up with, as most things are. 

Souper Sandwich at UCT - home to an
espresso machine, believe it or not!

Much like Europe, Cape Town boasts cafés in the most visible corners and in the most hidden nooks. Almost all restaurants are equipped with industrial espresso machines... even the sandwich shop that is housed by a tarp-like tent on campus. And while there's no Starbucks, there's a chain called Vida e Caffe that's pretty similar. Americanos, lattes, macchiatos, cappuccinos, and flat whites galore. 

Flat whites? Flat whites. I'm told this mysterious drink found its beginning in Australia. It's made with ristretto espresso and free poured milk that has been steamed to produce a velvety microfoam that is folded into the whole drink. It's similar to a latte, but with less milk to mask the espresso, and much more velvety in texture. Meet the flat white:

Here's a quick list of a few of my favorite coffee spots in Cape Town: 

• The Power and The Glory
  You've heard me talk about it over and over. This one's literally five doors down the street from where I live, and I kick off most mornings with an americano served by a familiar face. We know everyone that works there in the mornings, and they know us. They don't even mind too much if I left my wallet behind - "Just pay double tomorrow."
• Truth Coffee
  Early in our stay in Cape Town, a local showed us this gem. It took us quite a while to realize how close it is to us, though. In fact, it's just around the corner from Scalibrini, the refugee centre at which I teach English. The roast their own coffee, then they serve it. Their "no sugar required" mantra is endearing to me, and I'm particularly fond of their desire to "deliver upon the promise made by the aroma of freshly ground coffee."
• Deluxe Coffeeworks
  Deluxe coffee is served all around town, including at The Power and The Glory, but there's one hidden nook that I fell in love with at first sight (Thanks, Marissa!). It hinds behind a no-frills taco (by day) and burger (by night) restaurant, which hides behind... a garage door. It takes a second glance to even notice this spot, making it even more of a hidden treasure within the plentiful coffee options in Cape Town. 

Needless to say, I get my fair share of really good coffee. In fact, I haven't even opened the 2 lbs. of seasonal Starbucks Casi Cielo I squeezed into my suitcase. The best part of the story is that I've only scratched the surface; there are many more baristas to meet and many more cafés to discover. And I'm looking forward to it! 

From "Counting Up" to "Counting Down"

With the press of a send button yesterday afternoon, I crossed the threshold into the second half of my South African experience. As I’ve mentioned, my degree program is composed of four month-long modules. The end of each module is marked with a final assignment, and yesterday I submitted the second of those: a 26-page, 5955-word paper about improving student learning in South Africa. In case you were wondering, that’s 40,703 characters… the equivalent of 290 140-character tweets. Whew.

I’m halfway through more than just my academic program, though. I had originally thought my degree program would function on a traditional semester timetable (as most programs here do), which left me thinking I’d be in South Africa through December.

Since my final module (Changing Frameworks of Curriculum: Policy, Implementation & Evaluation) will run from 16 July to 13 August, I’m reevaluating the duration of my stay in Cape Town. Don’t mark your calendars just yet, but I’m preliminarily considering returning to Kentucky by mid-October.

If that ends up being the case, I will have spent 9 months in Cape Town, which sounds like a very long time… until you consider that I’ve already been here for four months (or, as my sister informed me yesterday, precisely 120 days). That’s right, folks. I’m only a couple of weeks away from being halfway to mid-October.

I’m only a couple of weeks away from being halfway to home.

Which means that my mindset will slowly change. Because I’ll be “counting down” instead of “counting up.” And I’ll start realizing all of the things I’ll miss. And I’ll eat way too much of all of my favorite foods, drink way too much of all of my favorite coffees. I’ll start “remembering” things before they’re ever gone in an effort to take it all in.

Even through the fog of impending nostalgia, though, I realize that there’s still a long way to go. There are plenty of memories to make, lessons to teach (and learn), things to see, do, and eat…  and, most importantly, people to meet. Including one more to-be-determined roommate.

And while returning home will be incredible, it will also mean that I’ll be exchanging what we’ve jokingly referred to as our “The Real World: Cape Town” experience for, well, the real world. I’ll finally be pursuing my career in education, and I’ll fill my life with roots such as a permanent address, a full-time job, and a car payment. Luckily, those things come with a side of family, friends, and favorite things, too.

A few recent memories worth remembering:

Driving on the left side of the road from the
right side (America's passenger seat) of the car.

Cinco de Wino! A day spent in the "wine country" of Stellenbosch
for a fun wine tour with good people.

I taught my Blikkiesdorp friends how to make the Kappa Delta
sign while I was volunteering in their township.

Juicebox: Quince

I've yet to find the right words to describe how beautiful my day has been, but I'm tossing around some possibilities while I enjoy a new flavor of the local fruit juice line I've been exploring lately: Juicebox. Allow me to introduce you to a new fruit: quince. It tastes a lot like an apple or a pear crossed with a bit of citrus. I had to Google it, as I didn't even know what the fruit looked like.

The Juicebox line offers flavors that vary based on the season, as the juices (like most things in Cape Town) are preservative free. So far, I've tried quince, cloudy apple, and naartjie (tangerine)... but plum is definitely my favorite to date. It's these random sorts of things that I think I'll miss most.

An ice cold Juicebox at The Power & The Glory

Thanks, Google Images.

Banking Battles... and Blessings.

I miss a handful of things about living in the United States – sleeping in a comfortable bed, topping favorite foods with yellow mustard, and hearing “y’all” sprinkled into conversations, to name a few. After today, I can add a new bullet to my list: convenience.

I know, I know. That’s a terribly American thing to say.

Today’s experience battling with South African systems had me crying (almost literally) for the convenience I had taken for granted at home. After telling the story several times, I noticed a few underlying themes, one being the unique characteristics of South Africa’s banking systems, but another being the complications of a “rootless” life.

What happened, you ask? I attempted to book a one-night stay at Aquila, a nearby game reserve. Seems easy enough. Trust me, though, there are all sorts of setbacks embedded.

From the start, the reservation itself proved to be inconvenient. It required me to print a form to complete with my banking details, which then needed to be submitted via email. Because I’d be close to a printer and a scanner, this wouldn’t have proven to be a problem in my home sweet home. When such a simple process requires downloading the document at home, saving it to a flash drive, walking to PostNet, printing the form, filling it out, scanning the form, saving it to the flash drive, and walking back home to submit via email, the reservation becomes a bit more complicated.

Just as I crossed the reservation off my to-do list and moved on to the car rental, I received an email that the transaction had been declined. Before attending to the email, I wrapped up my conversation with the car rental company. It, too, had been declined. After confirming that I had submitted the accurate details, it became apparent that there was some sort of account error occurring. The solution: call Standard Bank.

False. Calling the bank’s customer service line – successfully navigating the automated options, then sorting the collision of clashing accents – landed me at a conversation with a friendly representative who kindly informed me that I must visit my local branch to sort out the issue. Again, no big deal if you have a car, or even if you walk past a branch often. Today, however, this meant a one-mile walk to the closest branch on Long Street.

The issue was quickly sorted. It seemed that an anti-theft procedure had been catalyzed by my attempted purchase(s), and verifying my identity with my bank card, passport, and ATM PIN sent me on my way with a smile on my face. I made a couple of small purchases on the way back just to make sure the card was functioning, and I was anxious to finally settle my quest.

I called the companies again, asking them to give it another try. Of course, the payment was declined… again. A glance at my watch reminded me that I’d have to wait until tomorrow to return to the bank, as it was closing at 3:30 PM.

This realization spiraled into a full meltdown of frustration, and against no one in particular. I was aggravated by the inconvenience of the chase created by my lack of transportation, which was no one’s fault but my own. I’ve resisted renting or buying a car, mostly based on liability reasoning. Do I really want to own something? Do I really want to take on the risk of renting a car? Do I really need transportation when I have almost everything I need right here? Such a commitment seemed too permanent, too rooted for my liking.

As for the banking system, I was frustrated that Standard Bank was intercepting my efforts to spend my money, but the fact of the matter is that anti-theft mechanisms like the one impeding my payment are there to protect against others from spending my money. Compared to my bank in the US, my bank is South Africa is incredibly thorough in its anti-theft protection.

Successful anti-theft mechanisms!
http://sustainability.standardbank.com/economic-performance/
secure-banking/combating-fraud-and-corruption/

For example, I set maximum amounts of withdrawal and payment from the account at the time the account was set up. Additionally, I receive a text message alert immediately after any transaction, whether at an ATM or at a point of sale. There are always notifications, reminders, and educational materials about common theft tricks on Standard Bank websites, ATM screens, and other correspondence. I’m guessing the red flags in today’s saga were the repeated attempts of transaction, the location of the transactions (outside Cape Town, which is unlike my habits to date), and the volume of the transactions (again, unlike my habits).

I’m left waiting until tomorrow to walk to the bank branch and try again, but my rational self is doing its best to remind my reactive self to calm down and be thankful. For good weather to walk in, for coffee shops and familiar faces along the way, for systems that keep my funds secure… and for the glass of South African red wine that reminded me to slow down and count my blessings.

 

Can You Hear Me Now? Good.

As Rotary Ambassadorial Scholars, we are expected to serve as bridges between our home countries and our host countries. More specifically, we are to foster understanding between our home Rotary district and our host Rotary district. While much of this understanding blossoms informally, one of our responsibilities is to give 10-15 ambassadorial presentations to Rotary and non-Rotary audiences over the duration of our study year.

District map of my host district in Africa

Over the past three months, I have corresponded with several Rotary clubs in District 9350, and I have coordinated several of these presentations. Last week, I visited the Noon Gun Rotary Club, which meets in Cape Town CBD, or Central Business District. The club was incredibly welcoming and extraordinarily friendly, and I really enjoyed the time I spent with them.

One of the Rotarians in attendance explained that he participated in the Rotary Youth Exchange many years ago. He mentioned that because international communication was underdeveloped at the time, he spoke to his parents about three times during the course of his time abroad. This, of course, astounded me, revealing my dependence on communication technology that makes the distance between here and there (wherever one might apply those terms) seem significantly more manageable.

Valentine's Day greetings with my sisters

Even prior to this conversation, though, I was reflecting on the value of such technology. My communication with someone in the United States or another country usually ends with a moment of appreciation for the sheer ability to cross the world with text, photos, videos, or voices, not to mention the ease at which these things are possible. When armed with an iPhone and a MacBook, nowhere is too far away. Curious about communication while abroad? Here are my not-so-secret weapons.

• WhatsApp: For someone like me, who thrives on constant communication via text message, WhatsApp is invaluable. A messenger app available to anyone with an iPhone, Android, BlackBerry, or Windows phone, WhatsApp functions just like text messaging, but it uses the Internet for transmission of data rather than the phone line. Thanks to this simple app, many of my friends and family members are at my fingertips, no matter where I am (or where they are) in the world. Since being here, I've been in conversation with people in the USA, Spain, Jordan, Denmark, New Zealand, England, and South Africa. And, when I part ways with past and current roommates, I'll be able to talk to them in their homes of Australia, Russia, and Germany.
• Skype: Without a doubt, Skype deserves the world’s gratitude. Given a webcam and high-speed Internet access, Skype can connect any two devices anywhere in the world with video chat communication. I chose “devices” over “people” because it’s a great tool for feeling included in group functions from family birthday celebrations to friend get-togethers. The real accolade for Skype is that it’s simple enough for my dad to figure out… and that’s saying something. 

• Viber: This hidden gem of the smartphone app world is incredibly under-utilized. I actually didn’t know about it until just before I started this adventure, but now I’m an avid fan. Similar to WhatsApp, Viber functions off Internet to provide voice call capability between any two phones with the app. When both users are connected to WiFi, the call quality is unbelievably clear, especially in contrast to the international phone call quality I’ve experienced since being here. If one user is connected or both users are connected using a 3G or 4G data connection, it’s a bit less reliable, but that’s avoidable.

South Africa is dominated by the BlackBerry, as the device and its corresponding data plans are much more affordable here. Plus, its BlackBerry Messenger (BBM) service makes communication between BlackBerry users free. In fact, one prominent ad at the end of Long Street boasted this tagline, an obvious jab at Apple’s iconic slogan: THINK DIFFERENT? OR DO DIFFERENT?

BlackBerry ad on the side of a
building at the end of Long Street

Though I tip my hat to such clever advertising, I remain staunchly loyal to the iPhone. Thus, I wasn’t willing to transition to the BlackBerry. To my surprise, therefore, I’ve found myself using WhatsApp to communicate freely with locals (and other international students and visitors, as well) to avoid messaging charges.

Aside from these spectacular resources, there's also the usual communication outlets: phone calls (at about $0.10 per minute for international calls), emails (also available on my phone), postal mail (if you can wait about a month for it to get there), and social networking (Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram).

My iPhone home screen:
Evidence that I'm abroad!

There's no question that without free-flowing communication, I'd feel much more isolated and much farther away from the comforts of family and old, broken-in, and reliable friendships. Communication shrinks the size of the world, as almost every corner is connected in many ways. The "other side of the world," as I so often refer to my current location, would feel much farther away without so many avenues to stay in touch with my favorite people.