Miscalculations

Long before I met those American kids from my program, the ones from the Northeast who always look picture-perfect and free from the horrors of perspiration, I packed my suitcase with one goal in mind: to look spectacular. Normally when traveling, I pack for comfort, and I always regret it. Not because I'm a sadist and would rather be uncomfortable if at all possible (...not that there's anything wrong with that), but because I always end up looking like an ugmo in pictures. This time, deciding once and for all to end this vicious cycle (no more PHS ACADEMICS too-large sweatshirt photos for me!), I strategically packed a single suitcase of dresses, skirts and walking shorts. My best blouses came along with me and I prayed the airlines wouldn't lose my suitcase (but just in case, I carried my most prized possession, my black dress, in my carry-on). Me and the suitcase were blissfully reunited at Cape Town Airport and, looking at the rest of the chumps in my program, I was relieved to see my cheap mostly-Forever 21 wardrobe was somewhat different from the rest of the girls'. My purple American Apparel dress got a few looks in town (perhaps it's a little too different) but for the most part, I was determined to turn over a new leaf: I was going to be glamorous!

Don't laugh. I think everyone longs to be glamorous in some way. Maybe some of them actually succeed. But I think most of them probably live in Paris or London or Cape Cod, places where it's cooler and people don't feel like passing out from heat exhaustion at midday. Because it is absolutely impossible to be glamorous in Stellenbosch. Walking around, the humidity and the heat guarantee at least a marginal pit stain; if you're carrying groceries home in the afternoon, you can expect to have sweat dripping off your face. I honestly don't know what Grace Kelly would have done, and I kind of wish she were here to give me a few tips. Because apparently wardrobe has nothing to do with glamor: it's inherent. I think I have the makings of a children's book there, only it might be a little exclusive. I mean, my argument is that some people just aren't glamorous. Or perhaps glamor can only really happen in the fall and winter. In that case, I plan to hibernate for the next couple of months.

But it brings up a good point. The weird thing is, I find myself almost two months in and having somewhere along the way transitioned from tourist to resident. The experiences are no longer new and fresh but have become part of an everyday routine. Still, I've been wrong about a lot of stuff so far, so I think that's going to be the theme of this post: stuff I was wrong about.

1) The pedestrian has the right of way. There are a few things in the states that I tend to take for granted. Besides SuperTarget and corndogs, I just assumed the pedestrian-right-of-way was something that would sort of transfer to South Africa as well. Wrong. For maybe the sixth time since arriving in Stellenbosch, I almost got run over today. Drivers will purposefully speed up when they see pedestrians, causing one to have an awkward internal debate with oneself. "No way is Nissan going to hit me," one thinks. "He wouldn't! I'm a... pedestrian? Oh, but he's speeding up. But he's got to be bluffing. Uh oh. Corrupt government? I'm not taking a chance AAAAAAAAAH!" Or something like that. In a way, I'd like to see if they're bluffing and just stop in the middle of the street, but something tells me I've sustained enough injuries for awhile. Plus, I don't think my health insurance covers legal battles. What's more, the drivers often yell in Afrikaans, which never fails to momentarily stun me. In Texas, I'd show them a lovely view of my middle finger, punctuated by some sort of expletive, but what happens when you can't even speak their language? I'm pretty sure they're not saying "Goiemore; hoe gaan dit met jou?" either...

2) English is an easy language to understand. After all, I've been speaking it for 20 years! Even though I might lapse into random Texan phrases at the drop of a hat (what can I say? "I'm fixin' to" comes more naturally to me than "I'm about to"), clearly I don't have an accent. (Also, don't ask me to pronounce "umbrella".) I'm about as west coast as you can get without living there, and considering I come from the same town as Larry the Texan from my group (Hick McGee with cowboy boots and the full Texas accent and attitude), that's quite an accomplishment. But the people here genuinely have a hard time understanding me. Is it a language barrier when you speak the same language? They drive on the left side of the street, call bathrooms "toilets", put unnecessary u's in everything, put cheddar cheese on French toast (wtf?)... and then they look at me strangely when I pronounce my r's. And since I've been listening to myself for, like, years, the first few times I had to repeat myself slowly, my first thought was, "but I don't have an accent." And there are so many different types of accents here: the typical Afrikaans-as-a-first-language accent (your typical South African accent), Xhosa accents, Zulu accents... Yesterday I asked a woman what "offline" meant because she was so hard to understand. "OHHH, offline!" I said as it finally dawned on me. She stood there, looking exasperated, probably wondering why so many stupid Americans come through South Africa. Honestly, after nearly two months, you'd think I'd be able to understand better. After all, I know "sakkie?" at the grocery store means "do you want a sack?" If only I could get my English skills up to par!

3) Internet connectivity should be similar to that in the states. Another backward thing here: the internet is slow as molasses, and I have to pay by the megabyte. That's right -- if I download a movie, my monthly internet usage goes through the roof (I really wish I hadn't started The Reader, but I guess that means I have to finish it?). We get these nifty little statements each month declaring how many rands' worth of internet we've used. R600, we were told, is a good figure. Mine? Somewhere around R1000. Oops.

4) I'm going abroad. Great chance to escape stupid artists with little to no talent. I have seen so many posters of Katy Perry since I've gotten here (in London she was also EVERYWHERE). Considering Afrikaner culture is so strict, it seems odd that "I Kissed a Girl" is so popular, but maybe it's precisely for that reason that she seems to have found her niche in South Africa. And it's so annoying. But everyone deserves their 15 minutes, right? Right?

Someone next door is playing The Shins. There might be some hope. Now if they could just get over this smooth jazzy song they always play in the clubs...