By a chance encounter with a friend of my cousin's, yesterday I had the opportunity to shadow a paramedic who works for Cape Medical Response, a privately-owned ambulance service in Fish Hoek. Here in South Africa, if there's an emergency people don't call the government ambulance (like we might with 911) because in this area it might take 30-45 minutes for help to arrive. So most people phone a private ambulance service for fast care, and I spent the day with the paramedics that work at one of these companies.
Going into it, I was apprehensive about what I was going to see, after hearing stories about township stabbings, shark attacks, etc, but it turned out that my most exhilarating experience of the day was nearly having a heart attack on the ambulance ride to the scene, rather than what happened when we got there. Our first call was to treat an older lady who, while going on her morning bike ride, got off her bike and then fainted. It was about a 15-20 minute drive from the company office to where she was, but we made it there in about 10 minutes, despite the fact that very few cars here actually slow down or pull over for the ambulance. It was the most hair-raising car ride I've ever been on, hands down. We sped around corners, drove on the wrong side of the road, and narrowly missed cars several different times. It's a miracle none of the paramedics have ever died in a car accident! Not wanting to seem uncool or anything, I had to really concentrate on not reflexively grabbing the door after every swerve, but the truth is I was terrified. And to top it off, on our way we happened to pass a train of about 8 Porsches, which prompted the ambulance driver to whoop and holler and shout to himself, "I'm passing the porsches, nah nah nah nah". Very confidence-inspiring. But anyhow, we got there alive, and the lady turned out to be alright, so that's all that mattered.
The second call was just for an elderly man who injured some ligaments in his shoulder when he fell in the garden, not too exciting. But what interested me most perhaps in the whole day, was hearing about a gas station attendant named Desmond. Apparently he's epileptic, and has daily seizures while pumping gas at work. So the paramedics all know who he is, because they frequently get calls when his seizures are longer than normal, or when he's not recovering well after a seizure. He has medication, yet doesn't take it, because according to the medic who was telling me this, it's seen as a sign of weakness in his culture for him to be seen taking medicine for the "falling down sickness". So rather than managing his condition, Desmond continues to have daily seizures at work. To me, it doesn't make much sense, but I suppose his decisions are so tied to his cultural and religious convictions that I couldn't even begin to understand where he's coming from.
Other than those two calls, the rest of the afternoon passed by very quietly, I suppose it makes sense that not many violent crimes or car accidents happen in the middle of the day. I'm probably going to go back for another shift in January, and I'd like to see if I can get in on a night shift so that I can see some more action. While I was there on Tuesday, I talked to the two paramedics (1 of which is 22!) who recently saved a shark attack victim who had his leg bitten off, and hearing their stories put me in awe of their responsibility. All in all, I think being a paramedic must be an awful lot like being a cop- long periods of boredom punctuated by adrenaline rushes and crises. Probably a very exhilarating and fulfilling existence, but definitely not for me!
One thing I also noticed while meeting and chatting with the paramedics yesterday, was how funny some people's attempts to relate to America can be. When I told one guy I was from California, he said "Ooohh! My friend just went to Miami for a wedding." I didn't really know what to say, never having even been to Florida, so I just gave some generic response like, "oh yes, I've heard parts of Florida are really pretty" or something to that effect. It's puzzling, yet kind of entertaining, when people give you completely random bits of information that they feel relate to you, yet you really don't have any idea where they're coming from! I'm sure South Africans experience this phenomenon about 10 x worse in the US, probably getting things like "Oh yes, I've been to Egypt" or "my neighbor went hunting in Kenya", but for me, not being used to it, I really notice it when it pops up. I also had to giggle (silently, of course) when the paramedic I was shadowing explained to me that here, in South Africa, they have a breed of alligator, slightly different than the American one of course, called a "crocodile". Even better was when he told me that since the US doesn't have as big of a problem with TB and AIDS as South Africa, our biggest health challenge was probably old age, in Florida. I was speechless for about 10 seconds, but after I got myself together I told him I thought cancer, cardiovascular disease, and other problems associated with obesity were pretty big issues for the US as well as old age. Other people's perceptions of America never fail to entertain!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Conquering Chapman's Peak
Today...I became a runner. Well, I won't compromise the term "runner" by classifying myself as one, but I was one for a day! Along with 2 of my cousins and their boyfriends, I woke up at 5 am to do a 10k "road race" (for me, a "road jog") up Chapman's Peak. For people familiar with Chapman's Peak, the views of the ocean are absolutely spectacular, although it's definitely not designed for a leisurely excursion. We started at the bottom, the Hout Bay side, and ran 5 k uphill, until we reached the highest point of the peak, and then ran 5 k back down again. The wind was really howling, so much so that I probably had the running form of one of those forward-leaning 75-year-old joggers. Going up was obviously the worst, but once I reached the top and started back down my outlook definitely improved. My ego was dented when one of those 75-year old joggers ended up passing me on the way down, but seeing all of the people that came in after me did make me feel a little better! I finished in 1:02, and all I really cared about was that the people running the 20k didn't beat me. The 20k winner came in about 2 minutes after I did, but luckily I was spared that embarrassment. Even though my calves are probably going to be angry for days, the upside is that any race I may do after this HAS to be easier.
My cousin Alison and I after we finished
Being in Cape Town has been amazing, and I really am convinced that this is the most beautiful place in the world. Here is the view on the beach in front of my aunt and uncle's house, where I'm staying:
Last weekend I went paddle boarding with my cousins and uncle right in the spot that you see in the photo above, and it was an amazing, once in a lifetime experience because the sea was swarming with seals! They had chased massive amounts of sardines to shore, and were playing, lounging, and eating in such large numbers that we just paddled around right next to them. Mostly they carried on unfazed, and sometimes they turned and looked at me sideways, but never swam away. I was a bit nervous about sharks, but figured that there was enough other food in the sea, between the sardines and seals, that they probably (or rather, hopefully) wouldn't go for me.
Since being in Cape Town, which is definitely more Afrikaans than Durban, I've been working on my pronunciation of Afrikaans words. I can say "braai", "boervors", and "bakkie", but I have trouble with words ending in "berg". I really struggle trying to say what sounds to me like "baaahrrjjgghhh". Yeah. If that word looks like it doesn't make sense, that's because it doesn't! Usually I just make some crazy gutteral sound and hope nobody thinks I'm choking on something. Another word I have a hard time with, and usually avoid saying, is "weg", which is meant to sound like "vaaahrgghh". I think. It's hard because when referring to a place with an Afrikaans name, I have 2 options. 1) I can say it with my accent, which sounds really ridiculous, or 2) attempt an Afrikaans pronunciation, which completely butchers the word AND makes me seem like I'm trying too hard. So pretty much it's a lose-lose. I've resorted to using alternate means of communication, such as pointing, or describing the place like "that mountain" or "that steep road". Although I do have fun learning about very Afrikaans names, such as Kobus (kooo-a-bus) and Jacoba (ya-ko-ba), just because they are so strange-sounding to me. When someone, poor soul, is trying to teach me something, I mimic the word, and uproarious laughter follows. But then I usually fire back asking someone to say "hey y'all whatcha doin'?" or something, and then enjoy laughing at their generally ridiculous American pronunciation. There are always ways to get even. But anyway, hopefully this skill in the works will come in useful sometime in the future. If anything else, my pronunciation is definitely horrific enough that it could become a weird party trick...or maybe not. Maybe for my own sake I should refrain from speaking Afrikaans in public!
I just have to post this photo, it's from Durban. I took it while standing in my grandparents' back yard- there are mother and baby monkeys all over the place, along the roads, on roofs, in yards, and they are soooo cute.
Look at the baby's little ears! I want to kidnap him.
Until next time! Totsiens :)
Being in Cape Town has been amazing, and I really am convinced that this is the most beautiful place in the world. Here is the view on the beach in front of my aunt and uncle's house, where I'm staying:
Last weekend I went paddle boarding with my cousins and uncle right in the spot that you see in the photo above, and it was an amazing, once in a lifetime experience because the sea was swarming with seals! They had chased massive amounts of sardines to shore, and were playing, lounging, and eating in such large numbers that we just paddled around right next to them. Mostly they carried on unfazed, and sometimes they turned and looked at me sideways, but never swam away. I was a bit nervous about sharks, but figured that there was enough other food in the sea, between the sardines and seals, that they probably (or rather, hopefully) wouldn't go for me.
Since being in Cape Town, which is definitely more Afrikaans than Durban, I've been working on my pronunciation of Afrikaans words. I can say "braai", "boervors", and "bakkie", but I have trouble with words ending in "berg". I really struggle trying to say what sounds to me like "baaahrrjjgghhh". Yeah. If that word looks like it doesn't make sense, that's because it doesn't! Usually I just make some crazy gutteral sound and hope nobody thinks I'm choking on something. Another word I have a hard time with, and usually avoid saying, is "weg", which is meant to sound like "vaaahrgghh". I think. It's hard because when referring to a place with an Afrikaans name, I have 2 options. 1) I can say it with my accent, which sounds really ridiculous, or 2) attempt an Afrikaans pronunciation, which completely butchers the word AND makes me seem like I'm trying too hard. So pretty much it's a lose-lose. I've resorted to using alternate means of communication, such as pointing, or describing the place like "that mountain" or "that steep road". Although I do have fun learning about very Afrikaans names, such as Kobus (kooo-a-bus) and Jacoba (ya-ko-ba), just because they are so strange-sounding to me. When someone, poor soul, is trying to teach me something, I mimic the word, and uproarious laughter follows. But then I usually fire back asking someone to say "hey y'all whatcha doin'?" or something, and then enjoy laughing at their generally ridiculous American pronunciation. There are always ways to get even. But anyway, hopefully this skill in the works will come in useful sometime in the future. If anything else, my pronunciation is definitely horrific enough that it could become a weird party trick...or maybe not. Maybe for my own sake I should refrain from speaking Afrikaans in public!
I just have to post this photo, it's from Durban. I took it while standing in my grandparents' back yard- there are mother and baby monkeys all over the place, along the roads, on roofs, in yards, and they are soooo cute.
Until next time! Totsiens :)
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Being a bloody Yank
Hello!
I'm happy to report that I'm alive and well, even after learning to drive a manual car on the left side of the road! I graduated from parking lots to actual roads for the first time on Sunday, and didn't cause mass panic, crash into anybody, drive on the wrong side of the road, or stall, so I considered it a notable personal victory. For me, driving required an intense level of concentration, so by the end of it I was jittery and wound up like a spring and nearly in a cold sweat, but I think as I practice more and more I'll be able to actually drive somewhere without getting a headache. The traffic's definitely not as bad as I'm used to, although people are more lax about obeying traffic laws, so that has taken some adjusting. I still look the wrong way for traffic when I walk across the street (oops) but when I'm driving it hasn't been a problem.
As I've been here longer, surprisingly I've found that I've been feeling more and more American and less and less South African, which is opposite from what I expected. I've never gotten my identity from being "American" before, I always associated myself more with my town, my sport, or my school, especially at UCLA. Rather than being a "UCLA tennis student trainer" or "post-grad interested in nutrition", which described me more as a person, now I'm just "American". Here, being American is actually what defines me, and so I guess has become a part of my identity more so than ever. I have always considered myself about half American, and the other half South African, but despite my excessive tea-drinking habit and love of rusks etc, here I'm nowhere NEAR as South African as everyone else, and therefore here am considered 110%+ American. Here, when I'm introduced, it's "this is Sarah, she's from America" and my foreign origin becomes the focal point of my interaction with whoever I'm meeting. And even when I'm not actually meeting someone, as soon as I open my mouth it's obvious I'm not a local, especially because I say things like "cayan you puhlease paass the budder", rather than "cahn yuu pleeze pahhss the buttah" and have no idea what's going on when Afrikaans jokes are flying around. As soon as I open my mouth I'm a Yank! I don't think that's going to change, either, because I'm going to be spending the whole month of December waitressing, which will mean explaining (and repeating) myself to everyone I come across! Maybe I can at least exploit my foreign-ness to get extra good tips, that's one good thing that may come of it. Even though I'm going to be here for about 4 more months, unless I'm able to suddenly morph my twang into a South African accent and start throwing around phrases like "yooooh that's a nice wave" or "this cup of tea is stunning" I think I'm going to remain as American as ever. I suppose being back in the "Motherland" has made me realize how American I actually am...But I suppose once I can drive like a whiz I can at least fool the other cars!
But seriously, this tea habit has become a little bit ridiculous. I think my count's up to 6 cups today, and it's not even 5 pm. It's a problem. I think when I get back my stamina will beat even my mom and Sue, which will definitely merit me going through a 10-step addiction program. I definitely shouldn't sustain this long-term, otherwise I'll probably get early-onset kidney problems or something. But while I'm here, I figure I may as well embrace what feels like that tiny .01% South African in me!
I'm happy to report that I'm alive and well, even after learning to drive a manual car on the left side of the road! I graduated from parking lots to actual roads for the first time on Sunday, and didn't cause mass panic, crash into anybody, drive on the wrong side of the road, or stall, so I considered it a notable personal victory. For me, driving required an intense level of concentration, so by the end of it I was jittery and wound up like a spring and nearly in a cold sweat, but I think as I practice more and more I'll be able to actually drive somewhere without getting a headache. The traffic's definitely not as bad as I'm used to, although people are more lax about obeying traffic laws, so that has taken some adjusting. I still look the wrong way for traffic when I walk across the street (oops) but when I'm driving it hasn't been a problem.
As I've been here longer, surprisingly I've found that I've been feeling more and more American and less and less South African, which is opposite from what I expected. I've never gotten my identity from being "American" before, I always associated myself more with my town, my sport, or my school, especially at UCLA. Rather than being a "UCLA tennis student trainer" or "post-grad interested in nutrition", which described me more as a person, now I'm just "American". Here, being American is actually what defines me, and so I guess has become a part of my identity more so than ever. I have always considered myself about half American, and the other half South African, but despite my excessive tea-drinking habit and love of rusks etc, here I'm nowhere NEAR as South African as everyone else, and therefore here am considered 110%+ American. Here, when I'm introduced, it's "this is Sarah, she's from America" and my foreign origin becomes the focal point of my interaction with whoever I'm meeting. And even when I'm not actually meeting someone, as soon as I open my mouth it's obvious I'm not a local, especially because I say things like "cayan you puhlease paass the budder", rather than "cahn yuu pleeze pahhss the buttah" and have no idea what's going on when Afrikaans jokes are flying around. As soon as I open my mouth I'm a Yank! I don't think that's going to change, either, because I'm going to be spending the whole month of December waitressing, which will mean explaining (and repeating) myself to everyone I come across! Maybe I can at least exploit my foreign-ness to get extra good tips, that's one good thing that may come of it. Even though I'm going to be here for about 4 more months, unless I'm able to suddenly morph my twang into a South African accent and start throwing around phrases like "yooooh that's a nice wave" or "this cup of tea is stunning" I think I'm going to remain as American as ever. I suppose being back in the "Motherland" has made me realize how American I actually am...But I suppose once I can drive like a whiz I can at least fool the other cars!
But seriously, this tea habit has become a little bit ridiculous. I think my count's up to 6 cups today, and it's not even 5 pm. It's a problem. I think when I get back my stamina will beat even my mom and Sue, which will definitely merit me going through a 10-step addiction program. I definitely shouldn't sustain this long-term, otherwise I'll probably get early-onset kidney problems or something. But while I'm here, I figure I may as well embrace what feels like that tiny .01% South African in me!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
It's...er...nice to meet you
Oh deary me, the weather is soooo dreary today! It’s gray, misty, drizzly, and breezy, definitely doesn’t feel like summer is approaching. Luckily I went swimming a few days ago when it was sunny and warm, so did manage to get a head start on my summer tan. The South Africa/Australia never-ending cricket match has been on the TV all day yesterday and today, but I have to admit I still have no idea what the hell is going on. I have gathered from my grandparents’ reactions that yesterday the South Africans were brilliant, and today we stink. But other than that I pretty much just glance at the screen occasionally to see if there’s a close-up of a cute cricketer, but I’d say rugby is better for that purpose.
Over the past week we’ve met up with a lot of family and family friends, and I’ve met some for the first time, and others for the first time in a long time. Something that I’ve noticed again and again over the course of various teas and dinners is that when it comes to greeting people of the older generation here, I have no idea what to do. There are just too many variations. Usually I just try and gauge what the other person is leading towards, and follow their lead. Which is hard, considering there’s the awkward distanced “hello”, traditional handshake, the hug (my favorite), the one-cheek kiss, the two-cheek kiss, and the on-the-lips kiss (my least favorite). Personally, as an American who’s not even particularly huggy, trying to guess what to do is about as confusing as physics. Actually, more confusing. In America, unless you’re family or close friends, when meeting somebody for the first time, usually you would just shake their hand. Here, it’s different. I see a head moving towards me in slow motion aaaand I’m useless. If it were up to ME I’d give everyone a hug and call it a day. But, alas, I’ve been the recipient of any and all of these combinations, and my awkward confusion about which side to lean towards has even led to me getting kissed on the nose, twice. My most unexpected experience was receiving a quick kiss on the lips by a 70-something year old man who I’d never met before. Now that was uncomfortable, and I’m pretty sure I was pink for a full five minutes afterwards. I realize that here it may be socially acceptable and not cringe-worthy, but it’s taking some getting to. After all of these greetings I’m more confused than ever, and am no nearer to figuring it out than I was three weeks ago. When I’m with people of my own generation in Cape Town and Jeffrey’s Bay in the coming months, I’ll have to see what they do to say hello. I’m hoping it’s something more familiar, otherwise I’ll just have to carry on being the stereotypical awkward American!
Other than being inducted into the cryptic world of South African hellos, other notable mentions of the past week include getting a guided tour of my mom’s old high school with my grandparents’ neighbor, and going out to lunch with my grandparents and eating the best cheesecake ever (I know, it's monumentous). I’ve still been going to the gym every morning because I enjoy getting out and mingling with young people, plus there’s free internet on their computers, so I can check up what’s going on in America and at UCLA. I’m using the term “mingling” loosely, by the way. I don’t actually talk to anybody, I’m more just going about my work out in their general vicinity. I’m not too good at striking up conversation with random strangers, so I pretty much keep to myself. But, I’ve realized that a gym’s a gym, and it’s the same here as it is in California and North Carolina! No translation or adaptation necessary, thank goodness exercise protocol is the same world-wide. Today I realized that I’ve listened to my “workout” playlist so many times now that if I wasn’t in a public place, I could probably rap along with Kanye. Now wouldn’t that be a picture…
Before I say goodbye I just have to make a quick shout-out to my cousin, Mr. Jack Kenneth Scott Henshall- have you been getting A’s and B’s? Before I left I threatened that if he got any C’s on his homework I’d call him out publicly (well, to my 9 or so readers), so I had to follow through. I expect a full report!
Until next time :)
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Paparazzi Marg
Hello again, sorry for the long gap in updates! I don't want to be one of those bloggers who tells you about what they ate for breakfast every day, etc, so I'm trying to wait until I have a collection of interesting tidbits to share. Since my photo uploading is going to be limited by my internet source at the time, I thought I'd take advantage while I have it to share pictures of the fun and different things I've been seeing and doing, so that you can see what I'm talking about for yourself! For example, if I were to attempt to explain a haircut that is a mix between a mullet and a mohawk, without a photo you would be very confused, surely unable to picture what horrific hybrid would result. But, I'll get to that later...So here is a photo journal of what I've been up to!
Going to the beach...yes, be jealous, very jealous. The beaches here in Durban are beautiful, especially when the weather's nice. Check out those waves, Dad! The weather's been pretty rainy lately, so I've only been a couple of times and haven't swam yet. This year's Shark Week is still a bit fresh in my mind...
Acrobatic father and daughter, performing on the beachfront for tips. They also performed this stunt, but with a small toddler clinging onto the back of her older sister, still on top of the dad's head. A precarious position up there, I would think, but they all survived!
Who's ever heard of a bread named "DUMPY"?? Whoever came up with that unappetizing name should be fired on the spot. It's not that hard, how about "wholesome" or "wheaty" or something. Anyway, this is the kind of bread we eat at my grandparent's house, and it tickles me every time I get it out of the fridge, so just had to take a picture.
Taxis. They're everywhere. Of course they're driven by maniacs are crowded to the brim, but the most fascinating part is their names! I get such a kick out of them. This is the best one I've seen so far, let me tell you what the back window says: "If U want me,come get me...cos' I'm tasty!!! VIOLATORS" This name is even worse than the bread! If I was looking for a taxi and saw this one coming along, I'd start running in the other direction. Other highlights include "CROCODILE", "VIPER", and "SEDUCTION". I have a couple photos of taxis now, but the only downside of this new fascination is that I now have to ride in the car with my camera ready at all times...they zoom by very fast so the window of opportunity is microscopic.
Sally Ann (my aunt) and I at the comedy show we went to at a theatre at Natal University last night. The comic's name is Aaron Mcilroy, a Durban native, and the theme of the show was "at work". The central character was an incredibly and obnoxious "inspirational" new CEO, who was of course, American. His accent wasn't half bad though.
HERE we go. The mullet mohawk. I know that I'm revealing myself to be a creepy stalker who takes photos of strangers, but I really was driven to do it. It's not my fault! This particular haircut is EVERYWHERE and is so disturbing. About half of the white guys here have either a short mullet/mohawk like this guy, or a long one, which is even worse. I guess it shows that "fashionable" is all relative! I was at the mall the other day and saw a guy with a mullet several inches down his back, with the tips dyed purple. I actually got my camera out and almost got a snapshot to document this historic sighting, but chickened out, I'm not very good at being blatantly rude! I've been trying to figure out what combined name I could create, like mohullet, or mullawk, but so far nothing seems to click. I'll have to keep thinking about it. The worst is that also in fashion for guys are short shorts. Haha yes, classic combination, I know what you're thinking. I'm still working on my photo documentation of the shorty short trend for your amusement, but don't worry, it's coming.
Bunny chow: a quarter loaf of white bread, hollowed out and filled with lamb curry...yuumm. Eaten with your fingers, specifically those of your right hand. I ate about half of it with my hands, half with a knife and fork, I'm not a pro yet like Sally Ann and Michael. Apparently it's a trademark Durban delicacy, and so I'm glad I got to try it at lunch today. Ironically, we ate our "bunnies" at a place called "Hollywood", I just can't escape LA.
Well, I hope you enjoyed your look into my past few weeks. Other than eating and stalking people and cars, I've been leading a very leisurely existence including daily trips to the gym, about 5 cups of tea a day, and watching tons of BBC TV programming. Can't complain!
I'll try and be better about updates...Until next time :)
Going to the beach...yes, be jealous, very jealous. The beaches here in Durban are beautiful, especially when the weather's nice. Check out those waves, Dad! The weather's been pretty rainy lately, so I've only been a couple of times and haven't swam yet. This year's Shark Week is still a bit fresh in my mind...
Acrobatic father and daughter, performing on the beachfront for tips. They also performed this stunt, but with a small toddler clinging onto the back of her older sister, still on top of the dad's head. A precarious position up there, I would think, but they all survived!
Taxis. They're everywhere. Of course they're driven by maniacs are crowded to the brim, but the most fascinating part is their names! I get such a kick out of them. This is the best one I've seen so far, let me tell you what the back window says: "If U want me,come get me...cos' I'm tasty!!! VIOLATORS" This name is even worse than the bread! If I was looking for a taxi and saw this one coming along, I'd start running in the other direction. Other highlights include "CROCODILE", "VIPER", and "SEDUCTION". I have a couple photos of taxis now, but the only downside of this new fascination is that I now have to ride in the car with my camera ready at all times...they zoom by very fast so the window of opportunity is microscopic.
Sally Ann (my aunt) and I at the comedy show we went to at a theatre at Natal University last night. The comic's name is Aaron Mcilroy, a Durban native, and the theme of the show was "at work". The central character was an incredibly and obnoxious "inspirational" new CEO, who was of course, American. His accent wasn't half bad though.
Bunny chow: a quarter loaf of white bread, hollowed out and filled with lamb curry...yuumm. Eaten with your fingers, specifically those of your right hand. I ate about half of it with my hands, half with a knife and fork, I'm not a pro yet like Sally Ann and Michael. Apparently it's a trademark Durban delicacy, and so I'm glad I got to try it at lunch today. Ironically, we ate our "bunnies" at a place called "Hollywood", I just can't escape LA.
Well, I hope you enjoyed your look into my past few weeks. Other than eating and stalking people and cars, I've been leading a very leisurely existence including daily trips to the gym, about 5 cups of tea a day, and watching tons of BBC TV programming. Can't complain!
I'll try and be better about updates...Until next time :)
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