Townships and jumping out of planes
Trip Start
Feb 07, 2007
1
23
50
Trip End
May 15, 2007
Cape Town,
South Africa
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Getting ready to skydive
. I met my group in the Union, we found our bus, and were on our way. We had to drive out of Cape Town, which really isn't that big of a city, in order to get to the Langa township we were visiting. I knew when we were getting out of the city when I started to see the brightly colored, aluminum shacks lining the freeways. They were tiny, single-roomed boxes lining the roads for miles. These homes were right on top of each other, as in one could reach out of the cut in their wall and touch the home next to them, and those nearest the roads had the most room with the highway as their backyard, the next home in their front yard. As we drove along, I can't say how many of these shacks I saw constructed out of Coca-Cola signs. Coca-Cola is everywhere in these townships. Every other structure had a Coke billboard in front of it had a Coke sign built into it. I've never seen so many ads in one location. Our first stop once we got to Langa was the gas station outside of which Amy Biel was killed. She was dropping off a friend of hers from the university, in the wrong place at the wrong time. The boys who killed her were found, and because of the compassion of her parents are now giving tours at the Amy Biel Foundation that her parents set up in her name. After a few minutes parked alongside the gas station, we continued on to go see a witch doctor. Unfortunately, there was a medical emergency so we didn't get to meet him, but we got to see all of the animals and cans that he has collected for his healing practices
Me and some boys from Langa
. We walked into the building, just a big freestanding square room, that had no doors but was dark except for the light from the outside that enabled us to see all of the stuff he had. Seriously, anything you can imagine he had in there somewhere. Animal parts were hanging from lights strong across the ceiling. The ceiling itself was already low, so it was easy to bump into the snake skins or animal feet or skulls and bones or skins or heads of animals tied up in bags or tusks. Or the random packets of condoms strung over the cords as well. I had to struggle to find an area that didn't have anything down because you never knew what was rubbing up against you when you bumped into something. Sometimes you'd get lucky and it was only a bunch of twigs tied together, or other times you'd be facing a dead bat. I know seeing the trees in the yellow grasses on Table Mountain looked like Africa, but seeing all of this really hit home for me all over again that I'd finally made it to Africa. I don't want to be disrespectful and call it voodoo, because people still use these witch doctors, or traditional healers as they are known, sometimes more often than trained physicians. Sometimes they'll get an opinion from a medical doctor but then follow the advice of the traditional healer and get healthy. But it was certainly an experience being that close to so many interesting specimens. Also all over the middle of the floor and covering the shelf unit at the back of the room were bottles and containers and cartons, all full. Some looked like they were filled with dirt, others with liquid. all of which were used by the traditional healer. It was interesting looking at the Coke and Jack Daniels bottles, imported beer cartons, and empty cigarette boxes scattered everywhere for use by him. Our guide explained to us that all of these things were given to the healer as a form of payment. Because they can't always pay with money, he'll take a bottle here or a carton there that he can use for storage and whatnot. So instead of throwing away their used bottles, the patients would give them to the healer as payment. Therefore, the room was like a kind of organized junk yard with animals on display. It was quite a strange experience. We had a few minutes to browse the souvenir tables that were set up outside before moving on. We were taken to a more residential area of the township, where we were dropped off so we could walk around for about forty-five minutes. The first thing I noticed was the trash strewn everywhere. A friend of mine had given her empty yogurt container to the bus driver to dispose of, but as soon as we got off the bus she said she could have just thrown it on the grass and it wouldn't have made a difference. Trash collected everywhere. In the gutters, in the yards, up against the walls and in the doorways of the homes, in the roads. And women and children walk around barefoot through this trash. I saw hardly any children with shoes on, and about half the women. Most men I saw walking around wore shoes, and Crocs in particular. I can't believe how far across the world these things have spread. The people I passed would sometimes let me take pictures of them, but unlike in the indigenous villages in the Amazon they didn't ask for anything. In fact, the kids ran up to me and pushed each other out of the way in order to get in the picture. Walking through the streets by the homes where children were rolling tires with big sticks or dancing in the street, or passing by the areas where children were selling fruits in lean-to looking structures or helping women grill whole sheep heads, no matter where they were or what they were doing, they wanted to get into the pictures. I loved leaning down to take self-portraits with them because they'd all fight to grab onto my arm that held the camera so they could have a better chance at taking it away from me to look at the picture. A couple of times I had to fight them off because I was worried they were going to run away with it, especially when they tried to pry my fingers off the camera. We continued walking past these areas to the township apartment complexes. There were apartments on the bottom level and stairs that led up to a second floor, if you could make it through the mounds of trash covering the steps, but nowhere to go after that. The stairs ran directly into the wall on the second story. So I'm not sure how these upper levels were supposed to be lived in if you couldn't access them without leaning a ladder directly in front of the window. Even so, I have to say it wasn't quite the poverty I expected to see. Surely it is by no means a comforts bale way to live, or even healthy in a lot of ways, but I feel like I was prepared for what I saw there because I had imagined so much worse. And the big thing for me was how happy they all seemed, the children in particular. They were perfectly content running around barefoot with sticks and tires. Like any other kid, they just wanted to run around and play. Mothers and fathers would sometimes be sitting in chairs in the yard watching their kids play, or even playing with them. It was a Sunday, and in the apartment areas it looked like all of the neighbors were gathering together to grill food and socialize with one another. Some adults didn't seem quite as satisfied sitting by their fruit stands and grills, but that's not much different than what you see on the streets of a big city in America. For all of us traipsing through their homes day in and day out, they just carried on with their lives as normal. We continued on our way until we were stopped and asked to gather around so we could have a taste of the beer they brewed there in the townships. It's customary for it to be served in a big pail so that everyone can pass it around, and for some reason they ask you to blow on the froth so it bubbles before you try it. I don't think it's to make it taste better because that beer tasted awful. Beer isn't that pleasant tasting to begin with, but this stuff tasted like yeasty urine with a little bit of cinnamon. Not only that, but a few men hanging around were smoking weed, so the sour flavors of the beer mixed with the smell of marijuana made for an unhappy few minutes for me. Another group of kids had gathered around our group while we were sampling our beer, so of course I had to take some pictures of them. This group was the one that practically pried it out of my fingers, so I got a little behind the rest of the group. The professor leading the tour called back for me to hurry up, so I started to jog so I wouldn't get lost in the township. Well, all of the kids started to follow me and the next thing I knew, I was racing one of the boys down the street with all of the younger kids screaming after us as they trailed behind. We raced until I made it back to the group (I'm still competitive so I have to say I definitely would have one, but I held back so that he could beat me, if for no other reason than I could listen to him as he taunted me in animated Xhosa), and I found myself in front of a two-story building that looked like it had been newly constructed. We went in and found it was being used as a trade school. During semester long programs, people wanting to learn skills could go and be trained in construction, welding, pottery, and things like that to sell so they could support their families. It was really inspiring to see, walking into the school and seeing a sign that read "Help us empower the others". The initiative of these people, because they're getting no outside help, to gather together and try to make a difference in their lives and the lives of their neighbors, it's hopeful. Marx says religion is the opiate of the masses but our guide told us that the entire township goes to church, which explained why so many were walking around in nicer clothes. I had originally thought that it was disparity between the poor and the poorer in the township, but those dressed well had been on their way to church. We had the opportunity to sit in on a church service after our time in the community center (at which I bought really cool little purses made out of a Coca-Cola and Sprite cans to give as gifts, and then a VW Bug made out of a Coke can for me) , and the pastor was indeed talking about hope. Everyone goes, and it gets them through, empowers them to help each other and survive. These people really are living in a community. The circumstances might not be the best, but they never stop trying. They help themselves, and they help each other. During the service I was sitting next to the cutest young boy who was running around with the other kids eating yogurt with his fingers and when he'd go sit on his Mom's lap he'd get it all over her nice clothes. I'm not sure if I overstepped by boundaries because I'd pointed at some yogurt on his elbow that he was smearing on her, and she grunted a little bit at me. It might have been because I was staring at her, though. Well, staring at her adorable kid running around the back of the church with the other kids. I was quite impressed, because the pamphlet I saw said the service started at 9am and it was 12:30 when we were there still listening to the sermon, so of course the kids are going to need to run and expend some energy. I can hardly sit through a two-hour movie anymore without having to cross and uncross my legs, crack my back, and move all around at least twenty times, and I'm not a kid. I was quite impressed with him, running around but being relatively quiet about it, so I was starting at him. But I felt bad after she gave me a bit of a look, so I kept my focus straight ahead after that. We didn't stay very long, maybe about twenty minutes before going to a restaurant called Lalapa for lunch. The restaurant is run out of this woman's house. Sheila, who owns the restaurant, ushered us through the hallway and into a long dining room with long tables set up along the side, round tables in a row next to them, and marimba drums set up at the front of the room. I was tickled to death during the entire lunch, start to finish. Sheila got up and introduced herself and said good afternoon. She paused at this point, looking at her watch before giving us a spiel about how in Europe and America the watch controls what we say to each other, and what we call our meals. 'Here in Africa,' she said, 'we call our food food, no matter what time of the day it is.' She told us of a tour that came through a little bit late one day, a bus full of Brits. They were supposed to arrive around 1:30 for lunch but got held up and didn't arrive until 4:00. She asked the group if she should call it lunch or dinner, and after some debate a woman piped up and said "It's called tea!" Sheila was silent for a moment, put her hands on her hips, and said to us 'That's the power of the watch, to turn my perfectly good meal into water.' Thank goodness we really had arrived for lunch. She then explained what all of the food was laid out on tables for us near the entrance to the dining room, and before taking our drink orders. We went up by tables and enjoyed one of the greatest feasts I've ever had. Mom's Christmas dinner still wins, but this comes pretty darn close. We had savory rice, regular rice, maize and potato casserole, pumpkin, sweet potato, ostrich stroganoff, spicy beef, fried chicken, meatballs, curry vegetables, beet salad, pasta salad, tomato and peach salad, and fried dough balls (when filled with something like chicken or beef are called samosas, but these were plain, and still incredibly tasty). I'll say now I was incredibly happy when I realized on my Cape Doctor tour the following day that we were coming back here for lunch. The food was just phenomenal, and to top it all off we had live African music to enjoy the entire time we were there. I took about ten minutes of video, of Sheila's speech and the five men playing the drums. I just ate it up, every last bit of it. I simply adore African music, and to hear it live while eating delectable food...heaven within four walls. I took a nap on the way back to the ship, and it was a good thing I did because after running back to my room to try to find Becca and Matt and Lauren, I found a lovely note on my door reading "Bungee jumping out, skydiving in! We bought you a ticket." I have to say, I think I was only able to do it because I didn't wake up that morning and say to myself "I'm going skydiving today." My heart started pounding and didn't stop until we actually arrived at the jump site. I ran into my room just as Lauren was calling me to tell me to hurry up because we were meeting the van in twenty minutes. I changed my clothes and ran around in circles a few times, trying to orient myself, but with that much adrenaline it wasn't working so well. We met the cab and Becca and Matt had just enough time to scribble notes and forge their parents' signatures (because you have to be 21 and they're still only 19) before the van pulled up. We met three other Semester at Sea kids in the van, and only Becca had been before. The remaining six of us spent the entire ride taking pictures of us looking scared out of our minds and reciting a laundry list of facts for the van driver to tell our families and everyone we've ever known in case it all ended badly. A little bit morbid, yes, but he said he deals with it all the time because while we may not think we're going to be fine, he knows we will be. The drive to the jump site was absolutely gorgeous, through big open fields with rivers and creeks running along the highway and houses speckled in the fields. It took my mind off of the fact that I was going to be jumping out of an airplane in about an hour, until I realized I'd be looking at all of it from thousands of feet in the air. Strangely enough, though, as soon as we pulled up to the site my nervousness went away and the giddy excitement kicked in. The rest of the prep time Lauren and I spent bouncing around and taking silly photos. She helped me duct tape my camera to my hand so that I could video myself when I jumped. It looked like I was wearing a cast we'd taped the thing down so well, but because of all the video I'd taken earlier the battery had died. I was quite pissed about that, until I resolved that I'd just have to do it again and make sure to charge the battery beforehand. I did get a little bit nervous when the plane Lauren and I were supposed to go up in (you can only have four people in a plane plus the pilot, and we were jumping in tandems so we had to split up) was having mechanical problems. I asked myself if that was a sign that I really shouldn't be doing this, but there were still two other working planes so I swallowed my fear and told myself I wasn't going to chicken out. After about thirty minutes of hanging around and waiting, it was our turn to go. We'd been suited up almost immediately upon getting there, so we walked out of the hanger and to our little puddle jumper with our guides and got in the plane. Lauren got in first, which meant I was going to be the first to jump. My guy's name was Zack, and I had to sit in between his legs with my legs pressed up against the nose of the plane for the ride up there. The plane had an "oh shit" bar that I was reaching for but Zack told me to chill out and just lean back against him, that taking off was the easy part. But the plane took off and I started to get nervous, until I looked out the window at the view. Then I was just terrified. Lauren and I kept mouthing to each other how insane we were that the next time one of us had a crazy idea like that to put our foot down and just say no. It was inane. Zack was just sleeping behind me. He hadn't explained anything to me yet, so I was sitting with my back pressed up against his chest while he chilled with his eyes closed. In a weird way, it helped calm me down because if he could just take a nap on the way up there, obviously he knew what he was doing. After a few minutes he budged and started explaining to me that when his watch reached nine we'd be jumping, because we'd be at the correct elevation. He then told me to get on his lap but not wiggle, and after that comment the sex jokes just started flying from all four of us. Apparently, when I'm really nervous my humor gets a little raunchy. The funnier thing is that most of its on camera because, with our original plane having broken down, we had to take a plane that could hold five plus the pilot, which meant that we had room for a cameraman. Lauren and I had done two out of three on rock-paper-scissors, and I lost. But the cameraman still got both of us in the plane, so all of the silly comments made by all of us are on the video. Once we reached 9,000 feet, Zack told me to get on his lap and he opened the door of the plane. That, seriously, was the scariest moment of it all. And because I was going first, I was looking down at the ground. I felt him start clipping me and before I knew it he was telling me to grab the bar, which meant it was time to go. I looked at Lauren one last time, and she gave me a really weak thumbs up, and Zack tapped my legs to tell me to swing them to the outside of the plane. I got the right one out of the door just fine, but the toe on my shoe got caught at the front of the plane, so he thought I was freaking out and trying to back out because I couldn't move. He started yelling in my ear that we needed to go, that he promised it would be okay but we had to go. I started screaming, telling him I was fine I was just stuck, and he reached down to help me out until the next thing I knew, both of my legs were outside of the plane, my butt was on the ledge, and the only thing keeping me in the plane was Zack's weight still inside. Three seconds later, I was falling face forward out of the airplane and spinning in circles. I'd originally thought this was going to be the scariest part, the freefall, but once the door opened and I wasn't touching the plane anymore, it was smooth sailing, literally. The freefall was the best part of the whole thing. I didn't scream out of terror a bit, just ecstasy. We spiraled for a little bit before we put our arms out and just flew, diving through the sky for about thirty seconds before Zack released the chute. The best thing about the whole thing though, was that his name was Zack so once we got settled with the parachute out I looked out over the ocean and the land below and said to him 'We're flying, Zack!' It wasn't quite Jack, but so close to the Titanic quote I could taste it so I had to take it. We cruised for a few seconds before he told me to stand on his feet, and the next thing I knew I heard clicking and felt him undoing hooks and clasps. Besides the moment before jumping, that was the scariest moment of it all because I had no idea what he was doing. All I knew was I was thousands of feet up and he was unlatching my suit. At least that's what it sounded like. Turns out he was only adjusting us so we'd be more comfortable as I controlled the parachute. When you tug on one side you spin in circles, which I absolutely loved. I think I went a little crazy because he took the reigns back from me pretty quickly. After that, I just sat there, flying above South Africa. From the moment the freefall started I'd fallen in love with it. The day was so clear that I could see everything. Table Mountain was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in front of the cobalt blue ocean and green landscapes. Before I knew it our camp was in view and we were making our way towards our target. Ideally you're supposed to land on your feet, but I collapsed to my knees once we hit the ground. I think it's just because I was in so much shock from it all, the wonder and adrenaline that I had no strength left to hold myself up. Lauren came in a moment or two after me, and we just held each other for the longest time, asking each other if we'd really just done that. The whole rest of the day we just looked at each other, saying something like 'hey guess what, we jumped out of an airplane today'. I felt bad Katie didn't get to do it with us, but I told her she's got to go in Mauritius and that I'm absolutely going with her. One time, that's all it took, and I was hooked. Three hours after we'd arrived at the site, we were in the van on the way back to the ship. Becca and Matt wanted to go to the Ice Lounge, but Lauren and I had had enough and were craving sushi again, so we went to have sushi boat and some wine to celebrate. We sat there for a couple hours, just talking and bonding, before heading back to the ship. She had to leave early for her safari the next day, and I had to wake up early for a trip. I was advised not to do touristy things while I'm on this trip, because I can always come back here and do those kinds of things. I've been trying to do things that I wouldn't be able to do without the in provided by Semester at Sea, but I will never regret going skydiving here. It was only one afternoon, and it was the best experience of my life. What better way to fall in love with a new hobby than in your new favorite country in the world. Again...the chills. How did I ever get so lucky as to do something like this? 
