South Africa - David's Take

Hello friends. For my Term 1 holiday this year I decided to visit my good friend, David, who is currently living in South Africa.

David and I met at the University of Kansas. We lived on the same floor our freshman year in the dorms. I have always had a great deal of respect for David because he is himself. He is living his life. He is the kind of person that people gravitate to.

 

(#teamfoe)

David and I have not always gotten along, though. There was a span of about a year where we really butted heads. I think it is because we were the only two in our group of friends that really "gets it." Those times have led to mutual respect and a friendship that, I hope, will last a lifetime. We both just...I don't know how to explain it. Here, let me put it this way. We are the only two that are living, or have spent an extended period of time, outside of the United States. That's all that needs to be said.

David is the friend that took me to my first real concert. David is the friend that I went drinking with to forget the 2012 National Championship game. David is the friend who I traveled to Africa to visit. He is that friend. I have a lot of respect for him and I can't wait to see what the future holds for him.

Enough of that...on to David's masterpiece. My blog post on South Africa will hopefully be up by the end of the week. Until then, here is David's contribution to mattinindonesia.blogspot.com. David is a tremendously gifted writer and I am so fortunate that he agreed to write a guest-blog for us. He is currently working on his masters degree at Stellenbosch University. Stellenbosch is right outside of Cape Town. The following is all him (except the pictures) - I have changed nothing. The only thing I will say about this is that I think he is as close to 100% as possible with his opinions in this piece - especially the first sentence of the last paragraph. I hope you enjoy. I know I certainly did.

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South Africa is a bizarre, and, at times, impossible place to be—especially when you arrive for your first time (because let us be honest: you will want to come back, again and again. Maybe this longing to return is some unconscious, implicit desire to be in the place where the majority of human beings originated from. See: the Cradle of Humankind). Depending on who one talks to, South Africa is completely different construct. The contrast of perspectives and experiences can admittedly make one uneasy, but perhaps this apprehension towards confronting the privileges we enjoy is when we learn the most about the mysteries of the world.

There is much diversity in this country; it is a place comprised of extremes: security and crime, extraordinary poverty and spectacular wealth, excess coupled with an overabundance of questions that one cannot seem to ask, because the answers might make one uncomfortable while they are enjoying sundowners on the promenade in Camps Bay. Indeed, in Mzantsi, race is always an issue; class is always an issue; and the words one chooses must be selected carefully—communication is key. So how do you begin to explain a country with eleven official languages? Can you pronounce ‘Xhosa’? When was the last time you saw an ‘x’ next to an ‘h’? I would venture to say never. I could try to explain how to pronounce ‘Xhosa’ but I am not sure I am qualified, nor am I certain I know how to correctly pronounce the word, especially because it utilises the stereotypical ‘click’ so fascinating and unusual to Western ears that believe people walk around click-click-clicking away the day. What about ‘Sotho’ (here is a hint: it is not ‘so-tho’)? Moreover, ‘coloured’ is a racial group and identity of many South Africans; such a word is frequently heard. But this word will make most Americans uncomfortable because of our inability—I would argue unwillingness—to engage with any kind of racial discourse in the ‘ol USofA, that “greatest country in the world,” which has ignorantly been labelled ‘post-racial’ by white people who claim to be colourblind. If ‘coloured’ does not prove that race is a social construct, then there is nothing I can do for you (in South Africa, for example, Obama would be classified as ‘coloured,’ not African-American). But this is reality in South Africa; the assumptions one has about Africa and an African outlook on the world are challenged in this magical place. South Africa’s cultural and social disposition does not conform to any politicised box; nor it does not fit into any recognisable shape, which is, perhaps, why I feel so damn good—so damn alive—living here.

With all of this in mind, Matthew arrived in Cape Town on a beautiful Saturday evening. We had a dinner party, and I drank lots of wine. In many ways, he was lucky to be visiting a friend—and other friends—who have integrated into circles of friends with many places to visit. There were lots of things to do, and we did many things while he was here. The first day we visited Gugulethu and Camps Bay.

(Ian, myself, David at Camps Bay)

(the sun setting on Africa)

  

Next was wine tasting, dinner with friends and many beers.

 

(#Ls)

We visited Cape Town for a couple of days, staying in the predominantly Muslim neighbourhood of Bo-Kaap.

(Bo-Kaap)

I humorously thought Matthew would feel at ‘home’ in this new place away from his new home in Jakarta. The call to prayer each morning certainly did not phase him, unlike me. See, even me, I was experiencing and learning new things in a country I have lived in for almost two and a half years—there is no limit to knowledge and understanding, which might be the most valuable piece of information I have learned. Ane we hiked Lion’s Head. Having said all of this, as a result of having such excellent tour guides (mostly Ian), I think there were times when Matthew was struggling to keep up with the… ‘pace’ of this place.

Particular phrases and words in South Africa have many different meanings. For example, ’kak’ (more or less pronounced ‘cock’) means ‘shit’, and can be used in a variety of ways to enhance one’s emotions, feelings or opinions. This amorphous list of linguistic permeability goes on and on. As I told Matthew many times throughout his week here, South Africa is dense; it is layered, and the social landscape—which I am still navigating—is nuanced, complex, contradictory, but above everything else, intensely beautiful and engaging. In the same day one can see something that will make one cry; later one will see something else that makes one joyful and in awe of the mysteries of the planet. I wondered in different moments how Matthew was keeping up with the pace of this place. I probably asked him too many times if he was doing ‘good’ or ‘alright’ because he is now a globetrotting boy from Wichita. But I was anticipating—and I knew—that South Africa is not like any other place on earth (to a certain extent, this is probably true of every country maar hierdie plek is baie mooi en regtig mal (translation: but this place is very beautiful and really crazy)). An additional component of the pace of this place is the constant awareness of one’s race and racial discussions. I think this made Matthew uncomfortable even though being ‘white’ in Indonesia, from what I understood during our beer-soaked conversations, also significantly differs from the land of the free and home of the brave.

Ultimately, though, it is so difficult to write about South Africa. I have so much love for this country—and am obviously biased. I sometimes struggle to write about my ‘life’ here because there is so much privilege underpinning my experience that at times I become a bit apprehensive towards bragging about the good life I am living—I guess that makes me complicit. You learn, though, to appreciate the absence of television, proper cell phone service, constant sporting matches, awards shows and ‘reality’ shows. Instead, you enjoy your company because time goes quickly, and it is so much better to talk to people (sawubona!) than mindlessly watch a box tell what is important, and how you should think about the things they tell you are important. You learn to be humble in South Africa; you learn to be open to the variables of life; and you learn that you will find something so beautiful, and so special when you are least expecting it, like when you walk out of a building on campus. So perhaps it is best to end on how I explained to Matthew the affection and tenderness I harbour towards South Africa: I feel so alive here. This emotion is an ambiguous feeling, no doubt; but when you feel alive, it is unlike anything else.