Emily's first impressions

Emily K (in middle) compares pictures with Lauren and Allie at Chapman's Peak

The sunshine is streaming through the window, Table Mountain beckons from just beyond our doorstep, and there is a beautiful breeze! Cape Town is one of those places that makes you forget your eighteen hour journey and jet lag and instead fills you with contentment. Contentment to be in one of the most beautiful places with the kindest of people! 

First, here is how the flight actually went; I have been telling people that it can be interpreted using a shortened version of the 5 stages of grief. It begins with denial- "This actually won't be that bad, they give us snacks and these seats are pretty comfortable, and we can legally order wine." Then around hour 7 anger sets in: "I am not getting off this plane ever, why did I come so far away, what cruel person designed seats with not one comfortable positions." And finally, acceptance: "Only two hours to go, this wasn't so bad, look out the window, we're almost there!"

That was the flight from JFK to Johannesburg and after hours of uncomfortable shifting and half watching movies we touched down about a half an hour late. The lateness prompted some sprinting across the airport only to be confronted with a staggering customs line snaking around several railings and seemingly at a standstill. After we communicated that our flight was meant to leave in five minutes we were able to jump the line and get through quickly. Unfortunately, baggage claim defeated us, the carousel was dizzying as we watched the same four bags circle and circle for forty five minutes ultimately resulting in our missing the connecting flight to Cape Town. 

The flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town must have been the quickest two hours of my life, after a nearly sleepless previous flight exhaustion was not easy to overcome and I collapsed the second we sat down. Then you wake up and look out the window and see the mountains rippling up from the earth eventually leading to the most beautiful mountain of all: Table Mountain! The panorama is staggering, there's Table Bay, There's Lion's Head, Signal Hill! I was all at once overwhelmed by the beauty of the city I had the privilege to call home for six weeks before, and four months now.

We wasted no time at all once we arrived in Cape Town, after a low key first night with some Thai food it seemed that jet lag would have to be cast aside in favor of exciting adventures. During our first day we became acclimated with Rondebosch a charming suburb of the city of Cape Town which we would call home for the next four months. Exploring Main Road we discovered restaurants, shopping centers, and three dollar bottles of wine making us all confident that we would be quite comfortable during our stay. Returning home a few of us jumped in the swimming pool of our backyard which lavish tropical foliage trimmed so safe to say at this point with the eighty degree sunshine and the brick lined patio I wondered how we were so fortunate to enter this portal from the polar vortex to paradise.

That night we were treated to our first experience in the city at a soccer game with South Africa’s team versus Mali. The South Africans are adoringly called “Bafana” (Meaning boys in Xhosa) and we were all just as excited as the South African fans when Bafana scored their first goal and just as achingly confounded when the ball slipped through a player’s legs missing an open shot on goal. The game ended in a tie and unfortunately a following loss put South Africa out of the African tournament.

The following day we became acquainted with our new place of study: The University of Cape Town. Nestled on the sloping back of Table Mountain the university presides over the surrounding suburbs with esteem and grace. As our bus climbed the mountain the outskirts of the city splayed out below us and we encountered the ivy covered Dutch style buildings that made me feel as though we had joined the Ivy League. Each building was just as picturesque as the next and as I climbed from lower to middle to upper campus I was continually astounded by new views and beautiful places that made me think that studying might not be that bad here. After some unflattering student ID photos and a brief respite into the world of fast wireless we departed for the American consulate for one of our most memorable of the innumerable safety briefings.

Cape Town really is a safe place, as long as you act like a reasonable human being you are not going to have an issue, however the American consulate would have us believe that anyplace that is not crawling with tourists is a desolate wasteland of violence and crime and even made some startling suggestions about using public transport and to be weary of throwing yourself off Table Mountain, because I genuinely don’t think there would be another way to fall off. After warning of the snows of Table Mountain, where it never snows, they advocated for shark cage diving. So essentially we aren’t meant to take the train but here’s to hoping the Great White’s won’t gnaw through our cage.

That night everyone had a lovely time at Blue Chip Jazz restaurant where a group of young musicians entertained us with songs we know and love while we ate dinner and eventually took over the dance floor. Each of us got a turn in the middle of the dancing circle and I think it’s safe to say that everyone had a great night.

On Friday we visited the District 6 Museum. District 6 was home to a diverse community in Cape Town before its demolition and forced removal of its inhabitants under the cruel Group Areas Act enacted by the apartheid government. Not only was it home to so many people but to people we know. The director of our program in South Africa Vernon Rose grew up in District 6 as did Joe our incredible tour guide who shared with us his history in conjunction with that of the district. My host mother the last time I was in South Africa also lived with District 6 and all of these people living in racial harmony, in a place where they could commute easily to the city, and with an extensive sense of community, were forced from their homes and sent to regions far outside the city oftentimes separated from those they knew and loved. This was one of our first introductions to the brutality of the apartheid regime and the more time you spend in Cape Town the more you realize that exclusion is stark, and apparent, and deliberate, and is so achingly visible even twenty years after the first democratic elections were held.

In the next blog post I will tell you all about week two with trips to Cape Point, Boulder’s Beach, the Slave Lodge tour, jazz at the Mahogany Room, wine tasting, Robben Island, concerts, and church. We’ve been in Cape Town closing in on two weeks now but it feels as though we’ve been here much longer and I cannot wait to see what this next week will bring!

Best wishes,

Emily