The JoePa Post

For those who thought I wouldn't find out about JoePa's death on a Penn State program, fear not, I knew pretty soon after it happened.

This is a journal I wrote about the whole ordeal a few days ago: 

           After hearing about the passing of Joe Paterno, I was very confused as to how to feel. The past few months have been nothing short of tumultuous, with new information and accusation coming out what seemed like every day, with new feelings and emotions following soon after. I’m not there in State College now (obviously) to see the reaction of the Penn State community as well as the rest of the nation, and to be honest I’m glad I’m not there. Too often in our society, the voices of the extremes are heard over the less vocal members of the more rational middle ground. Without even being there, I’m sure people across State College are saying how JoePa’s the greatest person to ever live, or how he’s aided in pedophilia or whatever blah blah blah. And I’m sure that’s just a microcosm of the rest of the country and the national media (wouldn’t be true if didn’t sneak that in, right?). In my opinion, we need a Rally to Restore Sanity for JoePa. People need to start focusing on the facts, and stop with the over-glorification and the accusations.

            Even way back when I got accepted to Penn State, I was afraid that he’d die while I was there, a feeling that I’m sure was shared by many other students. About a year and a half later, I had a not-so-fleeting feeling that he would die when I was in South Africa, and unfortunately I was right. While here, though, I learned more about the situation from some others on the trip. For instance, I knew that he had been told he was fired via telephone, but I had no idea someone drove to his house and told him to call some phone number to hear it. If that’s not sketchy I don’t know what is. It’s such an annoyingly difficult internal struggle to fight with when I hear about just straight-up dumb stuff our Board of Trustees do. On one hand, I selfishly hope that this can't be the only school in the country that’s run by a pack of baboons, and that my school isn’t the only one operated in a shadier fashion than the Masons. But on the other, I don’t really want the higher education system in our country to be filled with dimwits like Penn State apparently is/was.

            I’m not ashamed to admit that I went downtown that November night he got fired. Aside from a handful of idiots that made the rest of us look bad, I thought it was a good way to show the Board that the students (the ones funding their lifestyle) aren’t exactly thrilled with the way they’re handling things. I remember remembering (almost memory inception) part of a Family Guy episode where they show President Bush hiding in his tree house avoiding dealing with the Hurricane Katrina cleanup, and thinking about how sadly relevant that was to our situation. People are just fooling themselves if they think that we all went out there that night for the victims, let’s be real: it was for JoePa. The candlelight vigil, which had a higher attendance but less media coverage, was for the victims.

            In all, it’s sad to think that even I couldn’t resist talking about the scandal in this journal when there were so many more potential positives in his life to talk about. While I’m not exactly about to put him at capital-h status, someone of his stature deserves better.

That’s Some Lion King Ish Right There

After a morning of waking up too early resulting in silently attempting to pack and then getting my oversized duffel down the narrowest spiral staircase known to man, I was thrilled to just sit on my ass for eight hours and stare out the window. I’m onea those people that almost enjoys the journey moreso than the destination, so taking the Garden Route was an exciting thing for me. And boy did it not disappoint. All the different landscapes (mountains, grasslands, beach) are all so close together, so I could turn to the left, take a picture of the mountains, then turn to the right and take a picture of the beach. So cool. Suffice to say I didn’t get much work done in that van.

(Side note: we actually do haveta do work here. Our first “class” is a historical view of South Africa, gradually narrowing the scope from colonialism and apartheid across the entire country, to where we’re at now (yea I’m writing about a week ago), Dwesa-Cwebe Nature Reserve. It’s a crapton of reading and discussing, which sucks because all the readings are in pdf format so we haveta read them on our computers, which sucks because we have to charge them a lot, which sucks because we’ve been moving around a lot lately and haven’t been able get a lot of consistent time for reading, which sucks because we have a lot to do.)

After about eight hours of driving along the Garden Route (split up into a few bathroom/food breaks obviously), we stopped to stay at this little place called the Harkerville Forest Lodge. Unfortunately we were only staying there for a night since it was so nice; it was like an awesome summer camp lodge with flora-covered wooden paths. So we spent the afternoon and night there reading, playing volleyball, discussing, taking pictures, and hanging out until we left early the next morning.

Oddly enough so far (knock on wood) I’ve had no problems getting up early and doing stuff, which is like the exact opposite of me at home. I thought moving seven hours forward would fuck with my system more, but I guess not. I’m also one of the few that haven’t gotten really sick (out of either end) already, just a lot of sneezing, but it’s not like I’ve never sneezed before so it’s all good.

That morning we drove another few hours until we hit this place near Grahmstown called the Conservation Academy, headed by this guy named Wayne and his wife. We learned a lot about the surrounding area (especially the plant-life) because Wayne’s a botanist, but we soon learned he’s much more than that. He quite literally knows everything there is to know about that area (and more). We went on a nature walk one morning (woke up at 5am, had a little trouble getting up that early) and he told us all about the flora and fauna around the hills and around his farm. We described him as a mix between Yoda, Indiana Jones, and Crocodile Dundee. When we went on our “game drive” (let’s be serious, it was a safari), he sat shotgun and talked with our driver (who looked just like Charlize Theron, good stuff) for most of the time about all the plants and animals. Speaking of the safari, many of us said that that was the (or one of the) “Holy crap, I’m in Africa” moments where it finally hits you. We saw zebras, giraffes (!), and an elephant really close, among others that, let’s face it, just aren’t as cool. I also ate a termite along the way, not great but not terrible either. A lot of the views were straight bananas, especially the ones from high up. I was kind of upset I didn’t get to see a wild lion, but we saw a bunch the day before at this wild cat sanctuary.

At the Amakhala Reserve place thing, they have this sanctuary for mistreated or abused lions and leopards. For instance, there were a few lions from a Romanian circus (why so many circuses in Romania?), a leopard from a zoo in Sierra Leone (they have zoos there?), and another lion from France. Not that I ever plan on being that close to a lion or leopard again in my life, but it was soo cool to see animals like that so close. You’d walk up about five or six feet off the ground into this hut thing that was about five feet from the cages (used loosely, they’re obviously fenced in, but they’re pretty large areas (comparatively at least)). We learned that one of the female lions was isolated on purpose because they tried to introduce another one with her, but she killed it within the first ten seconds. Crazy stuff.

So the last night at Wayne’s he treated us to a “braii” (BBQ) which was amazing. Springbok and corn just hits the spot. That night was the first time all trip I looked straight up at the stars. There wasn’t much air pollution so you could see a lot of the stars super clearly. The next morning we ate and left for Morgan’s Bay (for those keeping track geographically), where we were staying nearby at this place owned by the Eastern Cape Parks Board, who were welcoming us with another braii. Score. We stopped for some lunch at this “pancake house” right near the beach in this little town a few hours away. I, playing the role of ignorant American, was super pumped for a tall stack of pancakes and syrup with some OJ…notsomuch. Their pancakes are more like crepes (not really complaining about that though), so I got brown sugar cinnamon “pancakes” with cream. Holy hell were they amazing. After eating we waited for like four hours on/near the beach (where I got my first figurative taste of the Indian Ocean) for Neil (the leader of the program) to get some supplies, then headed to the braii.

I later went into a meat-coma after eating the half elephant amount of meat they gave us. It was pretty cool because they let us braii our own meat. Before and after eating, a lot of us were awestruck by the gorgeous sky in the background of the backyard. The entire sky was just lit up with thousands of stars with barely any blank space. The Milky Way was out in full blast too, something I know I’ve never seen that clearly.

That night was pretty rough, though, as the sleeping conditions were kinda eh. My original bed position lay right underneath this bunch of spiders that looked to be spawning by the second, it was so gross. No way was I sleeping under that, so I moved that ish pretty quick. The beds were also pretty awkward because every time you moved a muscle it’d make so much noise. Oh and the bathrooms were outside of the building and you had to remember to keep the doors closed because monkeys might get in. Yet another welcome to Africa moments for me. I hate monkeys.

“I’m Just Waiting For A Velociraptor To Jump Out”

I apologize in advance for the upcoming lack of pictures in the future posts. If it didn’t take so goddamn long for the pictures to upload, I’d post a lot more on here, but I’ll end up putting all of them on Facebook once I’m home and bored out of my mind. 

The plan for the day was to go to Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. I had no idea what to expect from the gardens, so I kinda half-expected it to be just a really big collection of random plants while we walked along one of those paths with all the little stones. I was half-wrong, but boy was I happy I was. Apparently Kirstenbosch is one of the seven best botanical gardens in the world (with two of the others in NYC and St. Louis, which really surprised me) and is considered by many to be the best of those seven. After seeing the location of it, I’m not surprised at all, considering the backdrop for the entire gardens is Table Mountain, which is even prettier the closer you get. Even only a few days in, I realized that this is onea those trips where so much of these experiences are so unbelievably mind-blowing that pictures just don’t do them justice, so the pictures I'll eventually post are just a small snapshot (shitty pun very much intended) of the gardens. And to explain the post title, many of us noticed how similar the landscape (especially Table Mountain in the background) was to Hawaii and Jurassic Park (don’t know if it was shot there or not, probably was). But yea.

After finishing the walking part of the tour we ate lunch then sat underneath a huge tree on this super-nice grass and had one of our “sessions” to discuss everything we saw today. A couple times we were interrupted by some ducks and these scary birds that were a little too people-friendly for my liking.

For dinner we drove to the waterfront area of Cape Town (which is super nice, kinda European but with noticeable African themes) and ate at this Thai restaurant. I’m not one to group all Asian food together (actually I am), but I was pretty nervous because I pretty much just like rice. I was also poised to not make the same mistake I made at the other restaurant and inadvertently order something gross (which is pretty tough when you think you’re getting something you like, but I digress). I ended up getting the roasted duck for payback from earlier since the mother duck kinda scared me when she got close. That’s what happens in Africa I guess, if I’m afraid of it I’ll conquer it by eating it. I don’t see me eating snakes though.

That night about half of us went across the street to this really cool little bar with some good outdoor seating. I’m not really a beer person to begin with, but I know for a fact that duck was kicking back in my stomach so I didn’t drink that much. It was nice to just sit and talk with some people outside of the context of the trip, “real life shit” as I called it.

The next day was something I was anxiously awaiting the whole trip: the township tour. Quick history lesson for those who need it: during apartheid, the blacks got driven into these “townships” outside of many major urban centers that were/are riddled with poverty and crime. I had a rough idea of what I was going to see, so I chose not to take any pictures; I actually didn’t even take my camera at all to resist taking them. I just knew I would’ve felt weird taking pictures and gawking at people who aren’t just really poor, but all they’re doing is living. I just got the museum vibe from the whole picture-taking idea. I wrote in an email to my mom that it’d be like Bill Gates walking through our house and gasping at how comparatively “poor” we are. So yea, no pictures.

The first township we went to was Langa, which according to our tour guide has a population of 200,000 people. I had a pre-conceived notion that the entire place would be full of really really really poor people living in smaller-than-shacks. Don’t get me wrong: there were people in situations like that. But there were also three distinct social classes, with their “middle” class kind of equivalent-looking to our inner city ghettos. The lowest class, though, consisted partly of people living in halved shipping containers, all of which were lined up in rows so that we could walk through. Most of the rest of the lowest of the low lived in what you and I would expect the townships to look like (super-poor African shantytowns), and what Google Images would probably show you. Overall, there was just a lot of trash, dirt, and stank. What made it very foreign to me was that despite all that nastiness, there were a lot of people that were so pleasant towards us and made us feel welcome. The kids there were also really happy; some little girl legit scared the ish outta me when she jumped our form behind a wall. Little did she know Hailey was about to abduct her. Anyways, it was pretty awkward when our guide kept telling us we were allowed to take pictures, even when we’d be crowding into someone’s home, which were the about the size of a small American bathroom. Something that grossly stuck with me was when she said that nine year olds were having sex and trying to circumcise themselves to make them feel more like an adult. Camp people: just imagine the third- or fourth-graders doing that; it’s just scary gross. After the tour (which lasted forever because our guide loved to talk) we went to an awesome gift shop full of locally made jewelry and pottery where I bought a new bracelet to make up for the ones I left at home. Beth: I got you’re piece of jewelry here too, so just know you’re helping poor people in Africa by getting me to purchase it.

On the way home we drove through another township (“Nyanga” or something like that) and got to see/smell another township which was definitely interesting. We stopped for lunch on the side of the road in the little city place and got some lamb. I admittedly didn’t like seeing the sheep across the street in their little corral, all soft and cute. But…I ate it and it was good. Like real good.

Once we got back to the hotel we sat and talked about what we saw, which was super helpful especially in a place like that where there’s so much to see that you can’t just see it all. We went simple for dinner and just got pizza, which was real good because they don’t pile on the cheese, sauce, and grease like they do back home. Four slices of Hawaiian pizza was sufficient for me. Smelling like pizza > smelling like burning tires.

Matt Damon Stood Here!

I apologize in advance for the upcoming lack of detail. Our days are just so overwhelming and amazing that it’s tough to remember exactly what went on. I mean, when you’re stuck on a plane for 8-12 hours it’s pretty easy to recall specific details. Walking through a breath-taking city like Cape Town (and through the even more breath-taking natural views at Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens (more on that later)), it’s hard to remember everything interesting that you see. Even right now, I’m trying to write this two days after it happened, as the clouds roll over Table Mountain out my window. So yea. With that being said…

Even though my room went to bed around 2am that previous night/earlier that morning, I got up around six and just couldn’t get back to a solid sleep. Anyone that knows me knows I love to sleep, so actually getting up and going to get breakfast just wasn’t happening. Shitty sleep > no sleep. Once everyone was ready we started our walk to the waterfront area. It was kind of a pain in the ass to cross all those streets, since not only am I not in State College anymore (where students/pedestrians clearly own the roads), but I had to look the opposite direction, something I forgot like 95% of the time. Cape Town needs signs on the street like in London made specifically for tourists that say “Look Left.” The waterfront area is so so pretty, it has such a European feel to it, yet there are a lot of distinctly African themes going on so it’s a good mix.

 We then boarded the ferry to Robben Island. It was funny because there’s a pretty legit security checkpoint with metal detectors and stuff in the little ferry terminal thingy, and one of the guys I’m here with unknowingly brought his knife through. So I think it’s officially safe to say South African security is pretty relaxed.

The tour was split into two parts: first a tour guide on a bus took us around the island, then we were led by an actual political prisoner who was held on Robben Island as we went through all of the prisons.

I was kinda pissed with my seat location on the bused part of the tour, since I was an aisle seat in the 2 side of the 3-2 seat formation (pretty odd setup), and everything seemed to be happening on the other side. So to get good pictures (of which I’m lacking (from the bus, at least)) I had to shoot through three other people trying to take pictures and a window that wasn’t fully open. Thankfully we took a little pit stop near the ocean so I hoofed it back to the bus to get a better seat.

The prison tour was really amazing, as was our tour guide. To think that he could stay there for eight years (can’t remember the exact number, still though) under crappy conditions, forced labor, and torture, and then be able to come back and be willing to educate people about his experience is pretty remarkable.

Towards the end, we were able to see the cell Nelson Mandela stayed in for eighteen of twenty-seven (ish, again) years imprisoned. I just felt bad because for whatever reason the first thought that came to my mind was “Hey they shot Invictus here. Holy crap, Matt Damon once stood here!” Thankfully I didn’t verbalize that because I’m sure I woulda gotten some crazy looks. It was surreal though, especially after seeing how small his cell was and how…buckety his toilet was, how someone could believe that strongly in something that they’d be willing to go through all that just in hope that they get what they want. And all of this is during apartheid too? Wild.

On the ferry back we were able to get to the top deck, which was open air and provided us with some literally awesome panoramas of Cape Town from the water. I wish I took a picture of this, but I found it pretty funny that underneath the number of lifejackets that were available up there, there was a higher maximum occupancy number. Luckily our captain didn’t run us aground.

Once we got back on land we walked to this authentically African restaurant on Long Street, the street were all the (fun) action is. Having never been to New Orleans, I imagine it’s somewhat like Bourbon Street but a bit wider with less female frontal nudity. So I decide to order this chicken salad thing, and I ask to get the dressing on the side. I contemplated getting the ostrich but the kid next to me was getting it so I figured I’d get a taste from him if I wanted it. My “salad” finally got there, and I kind of wanted to puke at it. There was like five thin strips of chicken all aligned in a circle, and in between was stuff like cheese, tomatoes, onions…all stuff I hate. And underneath all of this is a gross dressing that is essentially touching/tainting everything in it. I notsoquickly overcame my disgust and realized I was in Africa and should definitely try to taste new things (Beth that was for you and your Mom). I eventually made it through like 20% of it before I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I started offering untouched pieces to those around me. I was so happily overwhelmed by all the people willing to share their food with me after seeing that I didn’t like what I ordered, it really was such a nice thing to do. After that I could say I tried ostrich, crocodile, and some animal that looks like an antelope whose actual name I can’t remember. Pretty cool.

The Internet situation here is quite shitty, so don't expect a whole lot whenever I can post stuff.


Sorry to keep you waiting.

Long Flights Are Usually Worth It

So Monday finally came and I was super pumped to leave, but not to leave Duke, easily the worst part of the trip.

Aw Duke

The sad thing is that he obviously has no idea I won’t be back for ten weeks. And of course I have to see dogs at the Cape Town airport.

My first of two flights on my way to Cape Town from JFK was to Zurich on Swiss Air. Holy shit was that a nice flight. First off, they feed you like Americans on there: I’m talkin like three different meals, unlimited fresh (somehow) rolls, food that actually tastes good. And they had this video screens on all the seats (even coach) where you could watch movies that actually weren’t all that old, random TV shows (yes Dad, I watched HIMYM), and play time-killing video games (won $32,000 on Millionaire, kindofabigdeal).  And, to top it all off, the flight was like 30% full. I chose to stay by the window since I like the views, but a bunch of people just sprawled across the middle rows (the 3 in the 2-3-2 seat setup) and actually slept in a fully horizontal position. Not exactly safe but whatever. On both flights, I had an empty seat next to my window seat, which was super convenient for putting all my shit there.

Speaking of the views, they were straight bananas. We flew over Paris at night/early morning which was really cool. Also, we were flying like in the stars, so it was so awesome to just look out the window and see all these stars that seemed really close. I thought about trying to take a picture of it, but realized the flash would probably wake up the German (Swiss?) lady lying down across the aisle. The only negative of that first flight is that I was kinda unsure as to sleep or not, since I left in the evening (our time), arrived in the morning (their time), then had an eleven hour flight after that to arrive in Cape Town at night. But I mean, if that’s the only negative I’d consider it a pretty damn good flight. Oh there was one stereotypical crying baby too, damn did that kid need a drink to shut him up.

I see me

The second flight was kind of annoying, but not because of the time; the 11 hours went by faster than you’d think. Since we left from Zurich, all the flight attendants must’ve assumed I also spoke German. And since the flight was operated by Edelweiss Air (I probably slaughtered the spelling of that, I think Swiss Air owns them), we got fed like every hour (exaggeration but it sure felt like it). So every time they came to offer me some food or drink, they’d spout out like a paragraph in German, just so I could look like a complete idiot and say “English?” Every. Fucking. Time. There was also a lot less to look at, and the screen was a lot smaller and dinkier. Flying over the mountains in Switzerland was pretty sick though, we could’ve been onea those planes you see in the ads where it’s flying over the Alps or something, except our plane was a p.o.s. and wasn’t flying over the Alps. But I digress…

I coulda sworn I had ones when we were actually over the mountains but whatever

Finally landing in Cape Town was surreal. That (not the previous eighteen hours I spent in an airplane or additional five-ish hours I spent in an airport) is when everything finally hit me: Holy fuck, I’m in South Africa. Getting off the plane was crazy: in Zurich, you could see your breath when you walked through that tunnel thing; in Cape Town, I ripped off my jacket as soon as I could (only to spend the next two minutes struggling to find space for it in my carry-on). The dude at customs was kind of awkwardly chill about his questioning. I don’t if he just didn’t see me as a threat, but just asking “Are you carrying any weapons?” and stuff like that and just trusting me to be truthful without looking is pretty…interesting. After that we waited for everyone else to get in, and then made our way to the hotel (http://www.ikhayalodge.co.za/).

If you can’t tell already, the hotel we’re at now is awesome. This is the view off our balcony:

View outside my bedroom, almost dropped my camera for this one

These are the first of many Table Mountain pictures to come, just prepare yourselves

We got there and checked in around midnight, so everyone was just so spent after travelling for so long and we all just generally felt gross. That shower (which I took sitting down (oddly comfortable), thanks for no shower curtains) was easily the second best one ever, right after the one at the end of ORION.

I was excited for the next day because we were going to Robben Island. I’ll post about that sometime later when I sort through all the pictures I took. 

Jambo

Hey everyone, this is my blog. While I realize the hilarious irony of me having a blog, I won't be bitching about my life, because I'm pretty sure it'll be preeeetty fuckin awesome for the next ten weeks.

This started out as a way to show my parents that I'm still alive, but I hope it accomplishes more than that. It'll give me somewhere to post my amateurish pictures, as well as a place to point people when they ask me how it was when I get back. Seriously, do you expect me to answer in just one sentence? Boom, look at these pictures. Bam, descriptions of daily life.

Hope you enjoy...

NOTE TO PARENTS: If I don't update this for a few days, don't expect the worst and start freaking out. In hindsight, you probably shouldn't have seen that video of the girl whose bungee cord broke. Whoops.