Cape Town,
South Africa
Thursday, March 8, 2007
I woke up incredibly depressed about having to leave South Africa but also incredibly excited about the way I was spending my final day in the country, at least for this visit here, in the wine lands. I'll be back. But it's flown so quickly, this week we've spent here. I've had so many unbelievable experiences that have made every moment here unforgettable, so much though I feel as if this really has been the best week of my life. I'm just not ready to put an end to it. I don't want it to become a chunk of time in the past yet. I want to prolong it as long as possible. But I'm sure I sound like such a little brat because it's only my third country. However, my only defense is that I've been waiting to come to Africa for a long time and now that I'm finally here, I don't want to leave. Of course I'm thrilled about the countries to come, but at this point in time I'm in the transition between leaving behind my favorite place in the world and getting to my next destination. We all know how well I do with transitions. Plus, I'm still playing catch-up because I just don't have the energy at the end of the day to write the day's experiences before going to bed. And that means that, at this particular point in time, I am sitting in my cabin staring at the Victoria and Alfred wharf in South Africa through my window as we refuel our ship. It's right there. Another 300 meters and I could touch it. But instead, I'm stuck in here. The frustration of the place I love being right in front of my face, literally, and my not being able to have it... I hate that. I think now is the time my Mom would call me a princess. That always shut me up when I was younger. I hated being called a princess. So I'm sorry I'm complaining because I have no room to, considering what's ahead of me, but it proves my point of how wonderful of a time I had here. And I am so incredibly grateful for having the opportunity to come here. I woke up sleepy when the phone rang at 7am, my Dad calling to try to settle the debit card situation. I hadn't gone to bed till 3:30 because I was too excited from the day before to go to bed. I tried, but I just laid there. Waking up, therefore, was a bit rough, and I thought I had to be at the mall to meet our guide for the wine lands, but I called Lauren and she told me we didn't have to be there until nine. I got in the shower then and took a nap afterwards, setting my alarm to get up at eight for breakfast. However, I turned the alarm off and woke up to the phone ringing again, this time Lauren to tell me we needed to go. So I grabbed breakfast and ate it on the walk to the meeting point (because wine tasting all day on an empty stomach is a very bad idea!). We met our guide, Wayne, and were on our way to Stellenbosch. He explained to us that he only had two rules. Number one, no puking in the van, or else you would have to pay 1000 rand. Rule number two, no sitting in the same seat twice. Other than that, have fun and maybe learn something about wine. The drive out to the wine lands was gorgeous. They were a little more inland, and once we got there it was just miles and miles of grape vines on the gentle sloping hills. At a pond in the middle of one of the fields near the highway game were roaming and I got to see a zebra. We pulled into the first winery, and we had to drive a half mile or so down a picturesque road. Looking through the back window without the rearview mirror obstructing the scene, it was exactly what you would see in the magazines or the movies. Green fields of grape vines on either side, a dirt road, and trees lining either side. A nice little addition was the woman draped in her long flowing dress carrying a basket on her head. We were definitely in the wine lands in Africa. All of us in the van, six SAS students and one woman from London, were already giddy before we even started tasting the wine, so Wayne teased us about what we would be like after a couple of stops. He parked the van and we got out in this old-fashioned style winery, with a little pavilion of rose bushes and a pond with a fountain in front of the entrance to the winery. The walls were smooth white stucco, very classy and elegant, and each entrance had its name, Wine Tasting or Wine Cellar, painted in black. Inside was a big open room with the bar on one side and the gift shop where you could purchase wine perpendicular to it. We sat down at the bar, the seven of us, and Wayne introduced us to Ted, our wine connoisseur. He explained how the tasting would go, that we could choose any six wines we wanted to try, and to eat crackers in between to cleanse the palate. I discovered that I'm definitely a white wine girl, and also that yogurt isn't enough of a breakfast if you're going to be sampling six wines. Even with the crackers between each glass, by the final sample I was already giggly. After our tasting, Ted took us on a short tour of the winery. We got to see the trucks bring in the grapes and the storage facilities, eat grapes right off of the vine, as well as take a short browse through the gift shop before we left. When we got back into the van the giggling had only picked up. We asked Wayne if he got annoyed with the tipsy people he drove around every day, especially a big group of college kids, but he said he didn't mind. He liked meeting new people every day, and that we were always good for interesting conversations. The second winery was more modern, from the layout to the architecture to the bar where we tasted the wine. The first was more intimate, with the bar and the cellar and the storage facilities all close together on the lot, whereas this second was more spread out on the land. The walls in the bar were completely made of glass and overlooked the vineyards, with a semi-circular bar in the center. This bartender looked exactly like my cousin's friend Bryan and had a French accent, and he was really generous with the snacks that they laid out for us to have with the wine. They offered us olives and feta to sample with the wine, and it was the best feta I've ever had in my life. The six of us greedy Americans ate three dishes of it amongst ourselves. But my mentality was it was helping coat my stomach to handle the wine. The cheese and the grapes that we got to try at the third winery, a much smaller winery. This bartender offered us a huge platter of grapes to snack on. I loved the taste of them, much sweeter than regular grapes and a lot smaller. They were like the Big Ass grapes from Pike's Place Market in Seattle on the opposite end of the scale! After our quick visit to the third winery, we headed to lunch at a restaurant, where Wayne incorporated our fourth wine tasting. By this point, we were all sufficiently tipsy, but one girl had gotten legitimately drunk already. We sat down and the waiters just brought rounds of bread for us to munch on before our meals came. One of the boys on our trip made a really good call and ordered a cheese platter for us to enjoy with our wine, so I was just in heaven. The restaurant had outside seating that overlooked the vineyards on the property and the vineyards speckled with their wineries in the distance. I just love the wine lands. It's quiet and beautiful, full of people just enjoying themselves. The scenery is spectacular, and we were lucky to have gorgeous weather when we were there. Not a bit of wind or a cloud in the sky, and even though we were outside the dining area was covered by ivy laced across the wooden beams to block the heat but still shone through the leaves over our wine glasses and delicious meals of chicken wrapped in bacon, generous cheese platters with six different cheeses, and filets of beef. I normally get really antsy at meals if they last for too long. I just fidgety and my worst habit is playing with my napkin, tearing it into bits. Even though these were cloth napkins, however, I didn't even pick it up to begin to play with it. We sat at lunch for two hours, and not once did I feel an urge to get up and leave. We wanted to order dessert but weren't sure about time, yet Wayne said it wasn't a problem at all, that this was our day and if we were free to enjoy it how we wanted to. I'd never been on an organized tour that was as relaxed as this one was. If we'd wanted to get going and skip the dessert, we would have had more time at the fifth winery in Constantia. If we wanted to stay, which we did, and eat brownies and almond tortes, we could do that too. He just facilitated us and got us where we needed to be, and I loved that. We didn't have to worry about transportation but I didn't at all feel rushed or herded around. After the wonderful meal, we all felt better having sustenance to soak up the wine, but we had a forty-five minute drive out of Stellenbosch back to Cape Town and out again to the final winery in Constantia, another area of wine country. Because we all had to move around, I got shotgun for this long ride (and when we called it, Wayne got confused because he didn't know what that meant- it's not commonly referred to as shotgun here, apparently). I'd wanted to use this time to take a nap, as I was feeling incredibly full and incredibly relaxed, but I felt bad sleeping in the front seat. So I used the time to talk to Wayne about the townships and the situation in South Africa. I asked him if he'd ever been to a township before, because when we'd gone the guides explained to us how amazing it was that young people wanted to go visit, when locals really don't want to go near them. He said it's basically like our poorer areas in the States. We don't just go wander around them, but if the situation calls for us to go to them, to make deliveries and whatnot, we go. I talked to him about how it was interesting that when I went to the townships the first couple of times as an obvious tourist, I wasn't treated disrespectfully, but I definitely felt more like an intruder. People were still gracious and the children still approached us, but when I went on the tour with Neo, because I was with him, I was even more approachable and less of an outsider because I'd been invited in by someone who lived there. He did remind me that it was because these kinds of visits are good for their economy so of course they are going to be more accepting, which was of course true. But at the same time, on a personal level, I felt like they understood that there was a deeper sense of care because I was walking around and talking with a local, rather than just staring at them as one in the sea of white people parading through the streets of the township. I was feeling bold so I opened my mouth up, telling him that in a way my time in South Africa has opened my eyes a lot, but at the same time I feel even more helpless. I want to do something, but is there really anything that I can do? I'd wanted to ask him how it made him feel, to pass by these shacks on the side of the road every day but know it didn't affect him at all, but after his answer to the first question I realized that it's the same thing as in America. We pass by the poor areas, we feel bad and maybe on occasion give a dollar, but it's not anywhere near us so we don't worry about it. Wayne did explain to me, in answer to my comment about feeling helpless, that at the end of the day the important thing is to realize that you have the life you have, and if you're a compassionate person like I am and it helps me feel better to give a little, or if I want to dedicate my life to helping people, that's fine. But above all, this is my life and that life is theirs. And he also explained that they're happy. They don't have very much, but they have a roof over their heads, food, schools, enough to make a living, and for most people that's just fine. He also made the comment that South Africa supposedly has this huge gap between the rich and the poor. He says that in South Africa yes there are rich people, and there are poor people, but there also people in the middle. There are people everywhere. And if you're someone anywhere in these levels and you want to help out, that's great. He said he doesn't watch Oprah much but he did hear her say at one point that if everyone in the United States collected the spare change in their pockets, it would add up to be enough to solve poverty in Africa. To us in the US and wealthy countries, change means nothing. But to those who have little, change can add up to be enough to buy a loaf of bread and milk. They utilize everything that they have. He said South Africa isn't in need of help. They've got a good economy and they have everything they need, and obviously this isn't the case at all for all of the countries in Africa but even those that are in need, that first world powers are trying to help, are so corrupt that the money donated to them never goes to the people. Everyone is interested in protecting only their own wealth. So wealthy countries can contribute, but usually the money stays in the wrong hands. But it's so far away from most of us and our own lives that we don't realize it. It's like 9-11 and the tsunami. Millions of people die in Africa every single year, but we don't talk about it. When 9-11 and the 2004 tsunami tragedies occurred, everyone stepped up to contribute. It was publicized, and people responded. The events in Africa just aren't, so they don't receive the same assistance. But again, sadly, if they do, who knows what the money could do that goes to those on top. By this point, we'd reached Constantia for our final tasting, which was good timing because I was feeling a little bit helpless again. So, I drank more wine! The final winery was drastically different than those in Stellenbosch. This one was one big rectangular room with a reception desk and a large area set up with wine and books and goods to purchase on one side, and the bar, couches, tables, and art work lining the walls on the other side. The couches were quite dangerous, as they were leather and deep, and after four previous tastings and full bellies it was hard to get out of them. But we completed our final tastings, and here I tried port for the first time, which I didn't like at all. The port was just too sweet and if I want something sweet, I'm going to go for something yummy like cheesecake or ice cream. I'd also tried brandy after lunch, and hated that too. Luckily, Paul Travis, one of our SAS guys, was our wine garbage disposal so nothing went to waste. He's a big guy, very very tall, so he could handle it. After our final tastings, we signed the huge guest book on the table and made our way back to the ship. This time I sat in the back so took a lovely snooze. After he dropped us off and we sufficiently thanked him for showing us such an amazing time, Lauren and I did our final shopping before getting back onto the ship for the last time in South Africa. I went a little overboard on buying things, like African music and hand painted pillow covers and coasters and batiks to frame, but apparently they sell the same kinds of things in Mauritius so I won't have to buy anything there. Plus, this was my most anticipated stop. Whether that makes it okay or not I don't really know, but that's how I justify it to myself. When I get home Mom and Dad may feel differently, but that's not for another sixty-five days or so, so no worries just yet! I didn't get video footage of myself stepping off of the African continent, because it just wasn't as exciting getting back on the gangplank to leave. But I did let Lauren go ahead of me up the stairs to the ship so I could spend just a few more minutes with my feet on the ground. I'm such a nerd, but it's okay. I know I'm weird like that, but I'm still okay with it. After everyone got on the ship, as we all had to be on by 8:30, most of the ship went to the Union to listen to a township choral group that the music professor had organized to bring on board. It was an incredible way to be seen off, listening to the beautiful beats and rhythms and voices of music sung in Xhosa. Something I found incredibly interesting that I'd never seen before, though I haven't been to all that many choral performances so maybe it's more frequent that I thought, was the director cutting them off and starting them over in the middle of a song because he said they were off pitch. I'd never seen anyone stop and start over in the middle of a performance before. I thought it was really cool, actually. It wasn't right, it wasn't what they were capable of. So they tried again, and it was wonderful. I thought it was all brilliant because I don't know music all that well so I neither recognized nor minded that it was off pitch. To me, it was a group of men and women singing passionately with rich voices in another language and whose dancing told the story of the song. I couldn't have been happier, unless of course it wasn't the night we had to leave. But what a way to be sent off, I say. Overall, my trip in South Africa has been rich in experiences that have shocked me, thrilled me, challenged me, and inspired me. I can't wait to come back, even though it won't be the same as it was this week, but knowing that makes this week I've had here even more extraordinary. I'll never forget a moment of it.
