Many More Posts to Come

For all my faithful blog followers who have e-mailed me to find out when I will be posting something new, I promise I have many posts that are forthcoming.  I will be returning to the States in a few days and I am doing quite a bit of running around and have not had time to sit down and post my new adventures.  I have tried to capture the experiences on my camera as well as the travel journal I have kept, so my posts will still be as detailed and thoughtful once I have time to sit down and post it.

Cape Town Day 1

My time here seems to be coming to an end faster than I would like.  I can’t believe that I am over half way through my visit.  I would be remiss if I didn’t explore areas of South Africa that I have never visited before I departed.  I planned to take this trip with a friend who planned on visiting from the States.  But when those plans fell through, I decided to challenge myself yet again and venture to Cape Town on my own.  With my camera, maps, and tom tom in tow, I flew to Cape Town  (one hour flight from Jo’burg), rented a car and hit the N2 to the City Bowl area where I spent the next four days.

my car for the week   

                                                               map and tom tom in tow

                                       (yes my car is a manual--most cars in South Africa are)

As I drove from the airport to the apartment, I noticed areas with zinc homes.  The downside of traveling by myself is that it was difficult to keep my eye on the road and shift gears and trying to take pictures while driving (I do not advise anyone to try this). It was raining when I arrived, so I decided to forego my attempt to take pictures of the township so that I didn’t end up causing an accident immediately after arriving. 

I rented a beautiful flat (they call it self-catering apartment) twenty minutes from the airport, near the central business district (CBD) and central to many of the main attractions that Cape Town has to offer.  I was worried about the quality of the flat when I arrived because I chose it online and th price was very inexpensive. However, when I arrived and Jason showed me around, I was relieved at how nice the flat actually was.  The one bedroom, one and a half bathroom flat was the equivalent of a penthouse loft in the U.S.  It was fully equipped with microwave, dishes, dishwasher, white linen, etc.  Though I had no plans of cooking, it allowed me to really feel at home.  Cape Town’s weather is very rainy during the summer months causing quite a lot of cloud coverage.The living room contained a beautiful sliding glass window that opened up to a balcony with a gorgeous view of the mountains, including the famous Table Mountain and Lion's Head Mountain. 

Thus, it was difficult to see the top of the mountain, and I realized very quickly that I might not get the opportunity to take advantage of the swimming pool.

view from the balcony and the clouds covering the top of table mountain

A bit tired after waking up very early to catch my 7:00am flight, I took a nap shortly after arriving and woke up hungry.  I decided to head to a nearby hotel (called the Diamond Hotel) with a small restaurant and internet access.  I asked for a slice of cheesecake to go and I learned very quickly after being here that you should not walk on the street with take-away term used for carry-out) in your hand.  The Central Business District was quiet because it was Sunday and many of the stores were closed.  However, there were a few people hanging around on the street.  As I made my way back to the apartment, two ladies (missing their front teeth) approached me quickly yelling that the take away in my hand was for them.  A bit nervous,  quickly assessed the situation and determined that if I handed over the cheesecake with no hesitation, they may decide to ask me for money and next, they might be pulling at my purse.  Unwilling to easily part with my slice of cheesecake I stepped off the sidewalk and into the street while firmly telling them that it was not for them.  They insisted that I give it to them and I made my voice louder, and the look in my face a bit more firm and said, "No!"  They caught the hint the second time and backed off asking me where I was from and telling me that they liked my accent.  I told them I was from Jo’burg (saying I am American might have caused them to chase after me for my coveted slice of cheesecake and I was not wearing appropriate shoes to make a run for it).  When I ate the cheesecake later on, it was not very appetizing.  I took a couple bites and decided to throw it out.  But I didn't regret not parting with it.

the infamous cheesecake

The flat was also equipped with a flat screen t.v.  I had been without t.v. access since I arrived in South Africa so I  thought I would take advantage of the rainy evening and the opportunity to see what types of programs were popular.  I am not really a t.v. watcher when I am home and generally keep my t.v. on CNN watching the repeated programs the same way that some men appreciate watching ESPN.  To my dismay, the programs they showed depicted Americans in a very negative light (I'm not saying that this was done purposely, I believe t.v. lacks quality programs).  There was a bridezilla marathon where brides vented their frustration and anger on their family members and grooms. After one episode I thought my time would better spend continuing to get through reading The Known World.

Imposing Our Views

I know I always say that it's difficult to keep up with posting, and I recently realized that I meant to post a comment regarding President Obama receiving the Nobel Peace Prize (I will post that one at a later date).  As I follow his first presidential trip to China, I able to find examples of how his approach to diplomacy might make him worthy of such a prize (though I am not sold on the fact that he should have received it).  In a recent (scripted) meeting with a group of Chinese students (who were specifically chosen by the Chinese government and all members of the Communist Party) Obama stated, that "freedoms of expression, and worship, of access to information and political participation — we believe they are universal rights. They should be available to all people, including ethnic and religious minorities, whether they are in the United States, China or any nation."  He continued on by stating, "the United States did not seek to impose 'any system of government on any other nation [but] America will always speak out for its core principles around the world.'"  How does this tie into my trip to Africa (trying to make all of my posts relevant in some way)?  It brings me back to the conversation that I had with a South African friend who has a negative view of America as being a country of arrogant bullies.  

I agree with the Prez that there are certain universal rights that should be shared by everyone, and I like that he stated that his purpose was not to impose a certain type of governmental system.  The real quandry is whether these two statements can be mutually exclusive.  Despite providing these rights within their constitution, many Maoists and members of the CPC might argue that there must be a limitation on certain rights in order to have a truly functional socialist government.  Therefore, if we impose our views on how these rights should be carried out, are we also imposing our notion on the best types of governmental systems which everyone should have?  I am far from a Marxist, but I have become more conscious of the effects of Americans imposing their views onto others.  Do we have a right to dictate how one should run their country? 

Some countries could argue that our penal system is one of the most barbaric and severe in the world.  Our crime rate continues to increase and we have the highest documented incarceration rate in the world.  However, the U.S. stands by its use of the death penalty and still allows the use of the electric chair in some states.  Does any other world leader have a right to criticize our penal system?  If they did, would we respect their views and change it?  One may argue that having access to public information and dying by the electric chair is comparing apples to oranges, but does that really matter?  I recognize that everyone has a right to certain fundamental human rights (and some may argue that the death penalty is a human rights violation) but maybe we should think twice before imposing our views of how to govern a country onto others.

South African Man v. American Man

Okay, before I begin, I'm going to place a huge disclaimer on this post and inform you beforehand that this is solely my opinion and I recognize that I am drawing huge generalizations.  But since this is my blog, I get to do and say whatever I want.

So I have been here for about a month and a half and I must say that there is a big difference between South African men and American men.  Before I go any further, let me narrow my focus a bit---since I have never seriously dated an American man who was not black, I will only discuss my experience with that group of men when I make this comparison.  For purposes of trying to create a direct comparison, I will only discuss my experiences with black South African (though many are immigrants from other African countries) men.

I find that the language used to articulate one's interest in a woman varies drastically amongst these two groups.  The idea came to mind after having three different but memorable encounters with various African men.  My first encounter was while I was walking along the street on my way to the store.  As I approached three men standing together I knew one of them was bound to say something (not sure whether it's me or if it's just a requirement to comment when a lady passes by).  As I walked by politely saying excuse me, one of the men blurted out, "If I cannot have you as my girlfriend, I will slit my throat and bleed to death."  To say I was shocked is an understatement.  I thought to myself, was that line supposed to cause me to run into his arms or run to find him the nearest psychiatrist?

My second memorable encounter was when I stopped by a building to pick up my bib number for a road race I was running a few days later.  I went to the building after my bikram yoga class, so needless to say I was drenched in sweat, disoriented, and not in the mood for small talk.  I asked the gentleman at the gate where I should park and he began to speak to me in another language.  I politely told him that I only understood English and he smiled and showed me where to go.  As I was leaving the building he walked over to me and said that he wanted to ask me something, he said, "My heart has been paining me for the past 15 minutes.  Why you might ask? (note: I didn't ask), because....ummmm....how can I put this....I love you and must be with you."  At this point, I was used to the "crazy" comments so I smiled politely and gave him my usual retort, "I am married." Most men seem to back off when you tell them you are married, if you tell them you only have a boyfriend, you leave the door wide open.  Expecting that this realization would cause him to allow me to walk back to my car in peace, I was wrong.  Instead, he said, "I do not mind being the third wheel.  Please I love you and must be with you."  I smiled and walked into my car (and immediately locked the door).  I knew his overtures were harmless, though a bit strange, and chuckled to myself as I drove away.

My third encounter occurred while I was perusing the mall.  As I was walking around in circles (unsure of where I had parked) I was also responding to an e-mail.  After a few more laps around the mall I located my car and as I walked towards it (still continuing to tap away on my crackberry) a gentleman walked over to me and said, "I will cry if my name and number are not added to your phone."  I looked up a bit startled and thought to myself, here we go again.  I smiled and said, "I can't add anymore."  His retort was, "Oh I get it, you have too many friends and don't need anymore."  I answered affirmatively.  But that was not enough (surprise surprise).  So he asked if I could give him my number.  I thought that was easy enough and proceeded to give him my number, incorrectly.  I hopped in my car, but before I could finish sending my e-mail he came back over to me in his car and said the number didn't seem to be going through.  I smiled to myself and feigned astonishment.  I told him that I had to add minutes to my phone and it would be working later that day.
 
Now, I understand that these three examples sound extreme (but are extremely true) and might scare most women away in the U.S., but I was intrigued by the way the men expressed their interest.  I have had men approach me in the States but never using such strong language and persistence.  If I were in the States and a gentleman made any of the comments made by any of these men, I would b very afraid. In the States, a guy may tell you that he thinks you're hot, or that he likes your smile, but I doubt that during your first encounter he will profess his love for you. But is there something to be said about a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to make it very clear the first time he sees a lady?  Are there certain feelings that a man should hold off on expressing until he gets to know a woman more?

I suppose there is something that both groups can learn from one another.  

Self Image

Black women in South Africa are less concerned about their appearance and body image than women in the U.S.  Don't get me wrong--the women here love to look their best, but they appear to be much more comfortable with the size and shape of their bodies.  Granted, they are probably not bombarded with the t.v. and magazine images that cause many American women to become overly conscious about the size of their waists, busts, and rear ends.  Or maybe they realize that there are more important things to worry about on a daily basis, than the shape of one's legs or the flatness of one's abs.  Even those women who I've seen at the gym or at the races I've competed in while here, don't seem to workout because they want a body of a woman that's as skinny as Paris Hilton (or whoever the current "it" gal is).  Rather, they generally just seem to want to be fit.

We all know that black women have certain assets that are their trademarks.  However, the women here don't make an effort to hide their shapes.  What used to be an awkward experience was when I would go into the changing room at the gym or at the yoga studio and the women would be changing their clothes.  They are completely comfortable in getting completely naked in front of you.  Whether they have a few extra rolls around their waists or whether their breasts droop down to their belly buttons, they appear to be 100 percent proud of it.  I haven't gotten to the point yet that I want to stand naked in front of a bunch of people I don't know (though when I think back to college days, many times we showered in open communal showers) but I'm sure it must be exhilarating to feel comfortable in baring your body without any hangups about the way it looks.

I admit that I am conscious of my body image at times.  I'm not sure if that's due to television images or the fact that I have been a runner practically all of my life, but as I get older it takes a lot more energy to try and maintain that 18 year old figure.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not obsessed with being skinny, but having a healthy body attributes to a healthy self-image--South African women demonstrate that having a healthy self-image does not mean that you need to look like Halle Berry (or again, whoever the "it" person is these days).

As American women, we need to be proud of who we are and the way God made us.  There is something admirable about someone who feels comfortable with themselves regardless of how they look.  We should take a page out of their book and learn to appreciate ourselves more.  When we appreciate ourselves for who we are, then others will too.

Soweto 10k

On Sunday, I ran in yet another race, this time it was a 10k through the township of Soweto.  The race was great, and it was awesome to see so many black people energized and ready to run.  Before I talk about the race, I would be remiss if I didn't give a brief (very) background of Soweto.  Soweto stands for SOuth WEstern TOwnship.  It has a historically Black population and is known mainly for the role it played during the apartheid era.  In 1976, an uprising occurred within the city and 10,0000 people (mainly students) peacefully marched through the streets to protest the government's enforcement of all people learning and speaking the language Afrikaan rather than English.  Afrikaan is the language spoken by Afrikaaners.  As police officers stood by, gun fire broke out and when it was all over, 566 people were dead.  The impact of the massacre had a devastating effect throughout the country.  Soweto is also the only city in the world to produce two Nobel Peace Prize winners--Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu.  Of course this is a very abbreviated description of the township, so I suggest reading more about it.

The race went off at 6am so you had to admire the dedication of the thousand of people who were up and ready to run.  People arrived in bus loads to run and to cheer the runners on.

Brie has been out of town for most of my trip, so I've managed to make some friends, and a few of them were game to enter the race.  We all met up at 4:45am to head to the race on time.

                                                               the ladies and I too early in the morning

I've never ran a race that early in the morning and needless to say I was tired, and considered backing out when my alarm went off at 4am. But the energy of the crowd when we arrived got me geared up to run.  Although Jo'burg is heading into summer, the mornings and nights can be a bit cool.  If you registered for the race early, you were given a goody bag which included a dry fit t-shirt.  I wore the shirt over another t-shirt and also had on a long-sleeve in hopes of keeping my body warm.  I was all smiles before the race, but that smile disappeared around the 6k marker.

                                                      smiling before the start of the race

When the gun went off, you could see people running miles ahead.  We had three options of distances to run when we registered weeks earlier.  The ladies and I all agreed to run the 10k (approximately 6.2 miles).  There was also a 10k walk, as well as a full marathon (42k).

We all separated early in the race, each running at our own comfortable speed.  I stopped briefly along the run to take pictures of the township.  The first thing I encountered was this sign that welcomes you to Soweto.  I have a similar picture underneath this sign taken a little over a year ago during my first visit to South Africa.

                                                       the sign along the road while I was running

                                                            the sign when I visited in April 2008


The irony is when I visited the first time, I never thought that I would have the opportunity to ever visit again, especially a year later.  Never did I think when I revisited the area, I would be running a 10k.  I bobbed and weaved through the crowd thinking that it was going to be a pretty good run---then I arrived at heartbreak hill.  The hill was not very steep, but it seemed to stretch on for miles and miles.

                                                             view of homes in Soweto


At one point I thought I would give up because the hill was taking all the energy out of my legs.  I could also feel blisters developing on the bottom of my feet.  As the hill finally came to an end and I rounded the corner,
there was another water stop.  This time, instead of water, they were handing out cokes.  CocaCola has a lock on the South African industry.  If you are a soda drinker, I don't think you can find a Pepsi anywhere.  I am not a soda drinker, so I was apprehensive about drinking soda in the middle of the race.  I figured the cup was so tiny that it couldn't do much harm.

                                                                      Coca Cola break

In think that cup of soda helped me to finish the race.  It was just enough to provide me with a sugar rush, but not cause the lactic acid to build in my legs.  The water breaks consisted of a bag filled with water that was handed to you as you ran by.  There were also people along the route providing encouragement and blowing these horns as we ran by.  Some even brought a hoes out to provide runners with a refreshing and quick shower as they ran by.  One gentleman had a glass of something that looked like Hennessey. He held out the bottle and a glass, offering anyone who desired, a quick swig.

                                                                          water pass


I tried to take as many pictures as I could along the way, but with every kilometer that went by, it became more and more draining to take out my camera and snap pictures.   Here are a few below. 

                                                                  sign above for laundry detergent

                                                  Gentleman doing a dance as he heads to the start line

The people smiled and greeted you along the run, so it was very easy to remain motivated and to keep running even as fatigue kicked in.  There was a lady along the race who could not be less than 65 years old.  As I lumbered along, she cheered on the people around her with enough pep in her step to run the entire marathon. I tried to keep up with her but realized that I would be crawling across the finish line if I continued to try and stay alongside her.  I didn't see her when I finished, but I'm sure granny finished earlier than I did. When I saw this greenmile sign I began picking up my pace rapidly, excited that I was near the finish line.  As I came closer and closer to it, I realized that I was not at the finish line and I had approximately 400 meters to go.

Winded, and with my legs barely able to lift themselves up, I made a final push to the finish line.

                                                                   celebrating at the end of the race

The race was great!!!  I really enjoyed myself and the feeling of accomplishment once it was over. The ladies and I didn't meet up again until the end of the race.

marathoners coming to the finish line

                                              Tanya barely keeping herself up at the end of the race

                                                              blister at the bottom of my foot


My next adventure is the Soul City half marathon at the end of the month!

A New Me?

So I promised that I would chronicle my time spent in South Africa, but I have not been as diligent as I would have liked for various reasons.  First, keeping up with it is time consuming.  I find myself writing down random thoughts on pieces of serviet (that's what they call napkins) so that I can blog about it later on.  My second reason for not keeping up was finding out that I joined the ranks of the likes of Hillary Clinton and John F. Kennedy Jr.--I did not pass the bar on my first attempt.  They say that everyone walks out of the bar believing that they fail, but it is generally not the case.  Unfortunately that did not apply to me.  Having heard from my sister, who received the letter, that I only failed by a couple of points, left me with mixed emotions--at least I didn't bomb it like I thought I did; and feeling annoyed that I have to take the entire exam over based on a couple points.  The bright side (if there is one in a situation like this) is I get a second chance.  My job is still in tow and I can begin working in January and retake the exam in February.  

The day after my results came out I woke up feeling like it was all a dream and I had not failed.  But then I received an e-mail with the following quote from Winston Churchill, "success in not final, failure is not fatal, it is the courage to continue that counts."  The reminder could not come at a better time because not passing the bar really knocked me on my heels.  I allowed myself to have a pity party for a day and cry about it, then I the following day I had a plan in place for going forward.  My pity party probably should have lasted a few more days because I was still upset even though I wanted to get over it, and it began permeating other aspects of my life.

For anyone who knows me, I chase success.  Not success in the sense of becoming wealthy, but rather setting a goal and achieving it.  As soon as one goal is conquered, I am already on my way to setting and attaining the next goal.  However, the gratification I obtain from an achievement is far less than the disappointment I feel when I am unsuccessful. 

I have always been the type of person who wears her emotions on her sleeves so it was clear to the people around me that I was not my usual self.  One of my friends invited me to lunch and asked at least four times whether I was doing okay.  Since I didn’t feel like talking about it, I tried to explain to him that I was fine.  We ended lunch with him saying that he would pray for me--he is Buddhist—and he purchased flowers from a shop on our way home.  The flowers are called Peony, which grow only in the cape for two weeks out of the year.  They take approximately one week to fully bloom and I promised him that by the time they bloomed, I would be back to my usual self. 

                                                                 one my peonies at full bloom

Failing the bar exam has also caused me to adjust the way I spend the remainder of my time here.  Prior to the result, I had been working on an assignment with the South African Department of Communications.  The country is in the process of switching from analog to digital which they hope to attain by November 2011.  This is a pretty lofty goal based on what they have accomplished to date.  The following day after receiving my results, I had to explain to one of the attorneys I was working with that I would be unable to continue with the project because I would have to cut back on work in order to focus on retaking the exam.  A Harvard grad and Columbia-trained attorney, she explained to me that it took her two attempts before she successfully passed the NY bar.  She is also Buddhist and she asked me to join her in an introduction to Buddhism class.

The only thing I honestly knew about Buddhism were the monks, the Dali Lama, and the term nam-myoho-renge-kyo, which I hear Angela Bassett say in What’s Love Got to Do With It.  I figured anything that could help me to overcome my awful mood would not hurt.  So with much apprehension I attended the meeting.  I was a bit uncomfortable when the chanting started, but I promised myself I would embrace the experience like everything else I encountered during my time here.  I also promised the attorney that I would devote at least three months to the practice before forming an opinion.  The practice has definitely allowed me some time to meditate and devote focus to my thoughts, but I don’t see myself changing from being a Roman Catholic to a Buddhist.  Ultimately, I believe that Buddhism is very similar to our everyday lives as we are constantly trying to develop and enhance our personal and social attributes.