South Africa, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2/June/2011, Johannesburg Train/Bus Station (Park Station), Downtown JoBurg, South Africa

Sitting here at Nandos, the least offensive of the fine food offerings here at Park Station. The other options: badly overpriced, and just plain bad, fast food at Wimpys, the venerable South African McDonalds that makes the latter look like Peter Lugar's Steakhouse; the fish and chips joint the with mysteriously missing prices, and mysteriously missing line which both look like a sign to keep walking; and good ole South African meat pies and sausages at the Supermarket (which certainly plays into the theme of the particularly large badonkeydonk asses that keep parading past in tight jeans). This is certainly the last country on my culinary list of the world; a Thailand or India, this is not. I have heard stories about the historical reasons for the destruction of indigenous foods here in South Africa and their subsequent replacement with fast food and copious amounts of Coca Cola, but to live it as a traveler is quite depressing, as food says a whole hell of a lot about the culture in which its found. Even in Kenya, another country with a weaker-than-average offering list of local foods at least offered crappy food for a cheap price; here it is crap and extremely expensive crap, at that. (Bad food+expensive=bad placement on list). Only three more hours to kill here now, until I hopefully board a bus for the border and onwards. I do suppose, as my time here in South Africa draws to a close, that its time for a bit of reflection, a bit of the ole list game!! Here we go....lets keep with the Wild West Theme of Nando's and go with The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly....

The Good (in no particular order)

1.      Rocklands. Absolutely amazing climbing, incredible scenery, hiking, camping, and awesome fellow climbers. Even the local watering hole in one-horse Clanwilliam was killer (who would have thought, the best pizza I've had in a long time would be in the middle of farmsville S.A.??). definitely the highlight of my time in S.A.

2.      Cape Town Climbers: took me in, fed me, clothed me, (well, not really, but I did have a loaned sleeping bag and blanket get me through the cold-as-hell Rocklands nights in my tiny tent), drove me, and were just an awesomely accommodating local crew. Much love to Tristin, Rachel, Josh, and the whole gang. Good people. And killer barbecue masters.

3.      Long Street Backpackers: a good spot; nice chill-out areas, a great balcony, good kitchen, not obnoxiously loud (despite my initial fears of the drunken management), clean sheets, and an awesome location. Not as good as the killer apartment I stayed in after Rocklands, but a close second.

4.      The Shosholoza Express Train: it was delayed 4 hours, and I froze to everloving shit overnight (see previous) but hell, it was empty, comfortable, the scenery was amazing, and the window didnt shatter when the local kids pelted the train with baseball sized rocks. Bonus.

5.      Cape Town: this is a bit more complex a classification; the city is beautiful, the setting unparalleled, a great European feel, but not what I expected whatsoever in an Africa City, and felt a distinct lack of soul as a result. Plus way too much petty crime for my taste, but still a positive place.

The Bad (again, in no particular order)

1.      Local People: I'm not sure ive cracked the code of the “Rainbow Nation” but the only rainbow I've witnessed is the complete and utter indifference of the locals; the only true interactions I've had with locals/strangers has been the constant stream of beggars and hangers-on, who bring aggressiveness to the new level. Obviously there is much more to this, but I felt none of the warmth and saw none of the smiles promised in those damn slick South Africa tourism commercials. The only topic that the local whites I met on the train wanted to talk about was the mess the blacks had caused the country; there is still much tension in this land. A complicated issue, no doubt.

2.      Expense of Everything: $7 for a shitty burger and soggy fries??? $65 for an overnight train ride with no heat?? $40 for a 3 hour bus ride?? This is certainly not India. I have NO CLUE how the locals survive here. The prices are crazy, way higher than the States, where the average income is at least 10x as much. The quality of services and goods received for the prices charged should be illegal. A real bummer to a budget traveler.

3.      The Food: already mentioned and ranted on, but this must be the unhealthiest combination of fast food, meat patties, fried chicken, and Coca Cola ever released upon an unsuspecting populace. Again, the large asses of the women seem to be quite happy with this absurd national diet. And whats up with all the people on the train chain smoking??? People still fucking smoke??? They didnt get that memo or what??? After two weeks of trying, I have not had ONE “local” food here in South Africa. Not one, other than those damn meat pies.

4.      Racism: yes, here in the “Rainbow Nation” there are such stark divisions, unbelievable inequalities, and from what I've heard, seen, and experienced, must distrust and animosity between the races. It could certainly be worse, but quite unsettling coming in thinking that the nation was truly a peaceful little cornucopia.

5.      Crime: every home has its Armed Rambo Response signs, razor wire, electric fences, dogs, you name it. The fencing people are making a killing in this place!! It reminds me a lot of prison. Crime and theft are completely endemic here, and it makes you constantly have to be on guard, which makes people quite hardened, and is quite exhausting. I had the blueberry muffins stolen out of my shopping bag on the train seat, a friend had her car window broken in at a dinner party we were at the other night, and the lady in the train carriage had her bags stolen in the night. Nobody puts out lawn chairs or patio furniture despite the fact that almost everyone has a patio. Shitty. And one last thing that should go under this category: the damn Pakistani who tried to sell me, in my moment of obvious weakness, a USB cable at the train station for $42. Asshole. You know where you can stick that USB.

6.      The Overwhelmingly Ostentatious Displays of Wealth: to go along with the disparities here which are quite unlike anywhere else I've seen, (and I do understand and accept the hypocrisy involved with an American pointing this out), but the wealth displays seen here and heard about are truly horrific; its as if its not enough to have 4 Lamborghinis parked at your mansion a half mile away from cardboard shacks. Come on people. Class up.

And The Ugly....

Yeah, well, not quite anything to talk about here, other than the guy who pissed all over floor of the train bathroom into which my sock-wearing compartment mate walked into in the middle of the night. Frozen pee foot popsicles?

Cape To JoBurg Journal

June 2, 2010. Shosholoza Moyl Train, Cape Town to Johannesburg

My fingers and toes continue to slowly thaw out after a frigid night aboard the train; I am guessing that the mechanic in charge of operating and/or fixing the heating system might have taken an early retirement package*. Awoke to my breath crystallizing in the shuttered, rocking, black cabin, metal shades drawn as lovely curtains over the rock-scarred windows, the scrubby plains of the Karoo that now greet my eyes soon to be beheld once I thawed out enough to move from under the 4 blanket cocoon. Signs of progress dot the view; a power substation, a graveled road, an old pickup truck (or buckie, as they are called around here) plodding down the path to the unknown; the pale tan colors of a water-starved land, the lushness must have occurred long ago, or simply never; and a perfectly blue sky, the huge horizon, naked expanse. I reckon I am about half way through this journey to Maputo, and this far done is the easy part....big, bad Johannesburg is looming in the forefront of my mind, as we hurtle through the African plains...

*-I was later told that the train carriages, ancient models, were perfecly partnered with the steam engines of a bygone era; since the steam engines were all retired many years ago, the trains are now being pulled by diesel engines, which cannot work the heating systems; thus, we freeze our asses of in the cold South African nights aboard the “Luxury Express.” Ah, TIA...(this is Africa!)

Cape Town, Reflections

Cape Town, South Africa June 1^st, 2011. Final Thoughts from the Cape

After a long, exhausting night, which started off like any other amongst new friends, a warm fire, and a great meal here in Cape Town, things took a drastic turn, a turn unforeseen, as a new, close friend received some terrible family news. All we could do was be here for her, to fill the space of unfamiliar openness so quickly opened by familiarity, with hugs, comfort; again and again, the universal theme of the Dharma comes into mind when these life situations inevitably arise; the themes I have studied in texts, the themes philosophically analyzed in the abstract, running into the reality of existence; the theme of the truth of suffering, of birth, of old age, of sickness, and of death; the theme of the impermanence of all things, the illusions of stability and solidity in a universe where there is simply nothing to hold on to that will not change, that is not changing, that is not decaying and hurtling towards eventual demise; and this is not meant in a macabre context, but rather as an inspiration to act, an inspiration to learn, an inspire to understand the truth of this human life. Wise Zen masters ask, “The days and nights are relentlessly passing, how well are you spending your time?” How well are we spending our time, understanding both the preciousness and frailty of this human condition, the truth of cause and effect, and the opportunity for freedom? Are we working to benefit others, to open our hearts, to seek truth and progress? Every experience is meant to gain knowledge, to gain understanding, to progress, to contemplate, to discover these truths in the context of our own lives.

And thus, my time here in Cape Town winds down to an end; and yet, also a beginning; the winding path of life, of connections and of disappearances; of great new friends made who will be seen again down the line, when , I do not know, but this is not important; the reality of connection is what matters.

Cape Town, the beautiful city by the sea, framed by the mist-shrouded majestic crags of Table Mountain, a city of color and of brutality, of starkly contrasting manners of life, of gates and security warnings and warmth and vibrancy; a city that was not expected but that opened its arms for me over the last two weeks; and as I prepare to depart, to board the train tomorrow morning for a long journey through the South African heartland to Johannesburg, and on to Maputo, Mozambique, a journey that will be both long and hard and eye-opening and rich and rewarding, a microcosm of the realities of this beautiful life of travel, I thank the good grace that brought me to this edge, this tip of a vast continent. And I look forward to this upcoming journey, its challenge, the time for reflection, the boredom, the discomfort, the realities of life in the developing world, the strangeness, the dust and dirt, all of it, all of this life, here, now.

Cape Town Reflections

Cape Town, South Africa June 1^st, 2011. Final Thoughts from the Cape

After a long, exhausting night, which started off like any other amongst new friends, a warm fire, and a great meal here in Cape Town, things took a drastic turn, a turn unforeseen, as a new, close friend received some terrible family news. All we could do was be here for her, to fill the space of unfamiliar openness so quickly opened by familiarity, with hugs, comfort; again and again, the universal theme of the Dharma comes into mind when these life situations inevitably arise; the themes I have studied in texts, the themes philosophically analyzed in the abstract, running into the reality of existence; the theme of the truth of suffering, of birth, of old age, of sickness, and of death; the theme of the impermanence of all things, the illusions of stability and solidity in a universe where there is simply nothing to hold on to that will not change, that is not changing, that is not decaying and hurtling towards eventual demise; and this is not meant in a macabre context, but rather as an inspiration to act, an inspiration to learn, an inspire to understand the truth of this human life. Wise Zen masters ask, “The days and nights are relentlessly passing, how well are you spending your time?” How well are we spending our time, understanding both the preciousness and frailty of this human condition, the truth of cause and effect, and the opportunity for freedom? Are we working to benefit others, to open our hearts, to seek truth and progress? Every experience is meant to gain knowledge, to gain understanding, to progress, to contemplate, to discover these truths in the context of our own lives.

And thus, my time here in Cape Town winds down to an end; and yet, also a beginning; the winding path of life, of connections and of disappearances; of great new friends made who will be seen again down the line, when , I do not know, but this is not important; the reality of connection is what matters.

Cape Town, the beautiful city by the sea, framed by the mist-shrouded majestic crags of Table Mountain, a city of color and of brutality, of starkly contrasting manners of life, of gates and security warnings and warmth and vibrancy; a city that was not expected but that opened its arms for me over the last two weeks; and as I prepare to depart, to board the train tomorrow morning for a long journey through the South African heartland to Johannesburg, and on to Maputo, Mozambique, a journey that will be both long and hard and eye-opening and rich and rewarding, a microcosm of the realities of this beautiful life of travel, I thank the good grace that brought me to this edge, this tip of a vast continent. And I look forward to this upcoming journey, its challenge, the time for reflection, the boredom, the discomfort, the realities of life in the developing world, the strangeness, the dust and dirt, all of it, all of this life, here, now.

South Africa Journal, Take Three: Rocklands and Pics!

May 26, 2011. DeParkuys Camp, Rocklands, South Africa

Sitting on the concrete edge of an unfinished structure in the middle of the bush camp,

the sun's rays rose over the eastern, rocky hillside about an hour ago to greet my chilled, down-clad body. Closing my eyes and listening to the delicate birdsong, the beautiful dance of nature, play out for my silenced ears. The quiet and calmness of this place is stunning. The complete peace, utterly unsoiled, constantly awaits if one can take the time to stop, to put down the mental mechanizations and gymnastics, and simply listen. It does not need to be sought out; rather, its pervasiveness surmounts the small echoes of noise. Sitting here in the sun, assessing the damage to my body from yesterday's climbing session; a stiff neck, also the result of my tent's cramped interior, two ripped knuckles, and a hole through the armpit of two shirts, the result of falling from an 18foot highball bouldering problem, nearly missing the pads, and almost being impaled on a sharp, 2 inch thick tree branch which almost sent me straight to the emergency room of the Clanwilliam Regional Hospital, not a relished thought by a long-shot. The perils of a perilous sport; I did manage to climb two beautiful lines that called to me in their beauty, their sculpted holds requiring both balance and strength, a true test of both the physical and mental barriers. A gorgeous day spent in the vast boulderfields of the Rocklands, a magnificent landscape whose beauty ranks quite high in my personal story; the light and shadows writing beautiful scripts at each moment on the streaked black and orange boulders and cliff bands; a remarkable area to be cherished and remembered. And today, more of the same, a solo pilgrimage to hunt out beautiful climbing lines, the calm, the stillness when you stop walking on the dusty trail, quiet the mind, and just listen.

South Africa Journal, Take Two: Rocklands!!

May 19^th, 2011, Rocklands, South Africa

What a day....reflecting as I lie here, cocooned in my tiny tent, robed in longjohns and down jacket against the frigid night sky; Driving well over the speed limit in Tristin's small Audi, blazing through the South African countryside, the golden hues blazing on the peaks of the Cedarbergs; stopping for groceries in the small rural town of Clanwilliam, the day laborers all laboriously spending their wages on drink, crowded around the front of the local SPAR Market; arriving in the dark of night, stories having been told over the blur of the traffic lines, the glare of the semi-trucks heading north to Namibia and south back to the Cape; setting up tents in the sand by headtorch, happily cocooned after an epic day in South Africa, a stranger alone in the company of strangers, now friends, a lone traveler on this far out road of life....

May 20^th, Rocklands, South Africa

Just in from an evening spent around the campfire, good people, stories, laughs, the stars thundering from overhead in all their singular brilliance, this magical place perched on the edge of the world, balanced, as we all are, so perilously. Walking back into camp today after a great climbing session with some new South African friends, I was enveloped by the absolute peace of this place, the silence startled me; the best day yet in this new country...and many more to come...

South Africa Journals Take One: Cape Town

Cape Town 17^th May

The sounds of pop music blares from the bar's speakers downstairs, yet my small dorm room remains still, with only the bed I lie upon and a crazy old American (who would have thought??) from Louisiana the humble inhabitants on another night on the tip of the vast African continent. I dont think that the size really got to me until after arriving here on African soil; from far away, everything shrinks in size, becomes more accessible when being accessed through the fingertips on a foreign keyboard; sitting here now, pondering life, the journey has suddenly grown huge, daunting even; I try to keep my wits about me, to stick to my guns, to not be afraid of the unknown, despite my senses screaming “you're fucking insane!!” Its been a long day of walking, of adjusting, of pondering; up and down the hills of color, the labrynth of the City Bowl, downtown, the waterfront, peering back at Table Mountain, its rugged splendor, jagged rocks calling me to climb. I hitched a ride this morning with Jeff, who tracked me as I came through customs at the airport; normally on guard, I was disarmed by his easy candor and lack of bullshit; his client who was to be on the same flight pulled a no-show, and I gave him little more than gas money to take me back into town in his tiny red hatchback, telling him how I managed to get through immigration with no return ticket (make up a believable story and deadpan it to the immigration manager who pulls you out of line and grills you for 10 minutes, and ALWAYS be polite...sir goes a long way, all over the world; though for a few minutes I didnt think id be seeing more than the immigration lounge of South Africa's nicest airport-mental note-check immigration requirements MORE CLOSELY next time!). Jeff also informed me that tomorrow is the national election, of which I had no idea; it is almost certain that Jacob Zuma and the ruling ANC will be reelected, but there is growing discontent with his rule and his lack of delivery on so many promises in this “Rainbow Nation.” Of the rainbow, Jeff informed me that Cape Town is very much a “white run city” and thus, not subject to the copious issues of the other major cities if South Africa; even in its innocence, this comment did open my jet-lagged eyes to the truth of life here. Tomorrow, to figure out how to get to the Rocklands, do a bit of gym climbing at City Rock and try to meet some people to hitch up to the mountains with, or arrange a rental car to go it alone (though the costs of everything here are very high, completely even with NYC prices, the food is quite shit and the public transit is sorely lacking, three huge caveats for a poor traveler such as myself which will surely limit my ultimate amount of time here in South Africa). It amazes me how poorer South Africans can survive with the prices as high as they are-I am finding it a very tough adjustment coming from New York City, not the cheapest of places....