Our final Yop!
We are soon leaving. And the tradition started when we cleaned and sold our house in Lancaster. We Yop!ed every room when we emptied it. And then the whole house. We will soon go to the airport with Uber, a taxi service to pick up our car. Then we will either go to PicknPay or back home depending on how long it takes. We will meet someone to leave the house at noon. When we return here, we will finish packing, Yop! a couple more rooms, and then Yop! the whole house. And then we drive on to Namibia.
I can now post our address. It is 293 Main Road, Kenilworth, Cape Town, Western Cape, South Africa. However Google Maps will not find the right place. The maps that come with Apple Devices work.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Namibia - Syarra
Tomorrow starts the big trip in Namibia. We get the 4x4 and drive off. Tomorrow we leave South Africa. Now that means again we have no house. But that is better than a plane. I feel like we still have lots to do in South Africa but we will do it with a car. So that will wait. In Namibia, the sand dunes are waiting. In the airport, the 4x4 is waiting. And me, I am waiting for the experience of a lifetime.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Petty Crimes on the Sands of the Seas - Carver
Sea=False Bay and by extension the Atlantic (It turns out L’Aguilhas is the Southern tip of Africa and the dividing point.)
Sand=Crushed Quartz (Silicon Dioxide)
Petty Crime=Backpack Theft
My last post was about disappointments. This was a major disappointment. My last post was about minor disappointments so this has nothing to do with that post. Well, maybe a little. I suppose it has everything to do with the last post. It was packed with many minor disappointments.
We were renting surfboards this time at Muizenberg and while we were in the water, someone stole our backpack with our clothes and more important things. In there was a wallet with credit cards and a driver’s license. A cellphone. And my favorite polyester clothing. I find many clothings uncomfortable and so we brought comfortable clothing. My favorite is polyester clothing. We replaced the shirt with a bright orange polyester shirt but we haven’t seen the same polyester shorts I owned. We got a new phone. Telkom gave us a new SIM card with the same amount of data on it because the old one was in the phone. We got many people’s clothing replaced and most of the issues are solved. But a couple remain.
These are minor disappointments. I loved my clothing that got stolen. We are getting new credit cards shipped to us. And the impact could be minimized. But I had a bad attitude about it all because we were all freaked out. I had great expectations for the shorts and shirt that I lost. So, very hard to avoid in this situation.
Remember the t-chart.
Sand=Crushed Quartz (Silicon Dioxide)
Petty Crime=Backpack Theft
My last post was about disappointments. This was a major disappointment. My last post was about minor disappointments so this has nothing to do with that post. Well, maybe a little. I suppose it has everything to do with the last post. It was packed with many minor disappointments.
We were renting surfboards this time at Muizenberg and while we were in the water, someone stole our backpack with our clothes and more important things. In there was a wallet with credit cards and a driver’s license. A cellphone. And my favorite polyester clothing. I find many clothings uncomfortable and so we brought comfortable clothing. My favorite is polyester clothing. We replaced the shirt with a bright orange polyester shirt but we haven’t seen the same polyester shorts I owned. We got a new phone. Telkom gave us a new SIM card with the same amount of data on it because the old one was in the phone. We got many people’s clothing replaced and most of the issues are solved. But a couple remain.
These are minor disappointments. I loved my clothing that got stolen. We are getting new credit cards shipped to us. And the impact could be minimized. But I had a bad attitude about it all because we were all freaked out. I had great expectations for the shorts and shirt that I lost. So, very hard to avoid in this situation.
Remember the t-chart.
Friday, November 20, 2015
An Idea Concerning the Refugee Crisis and the USA – Erich
You really will have to read the idea
all the way through. If you stop in the middle, you will probably
think I am a juvenile idealist. I suppose once you get to the end,
you may still think that. But hopefully less so.
I propose that the USA sail a bunch of
naval ships over to Europe and Turkey. We load up one million Syrian
refugees and bring them back to the United States.
But what do we do with them then?
Note: Some of the ideas I am proposing
should not only apply to the refugees, but should also be made
available to the currently unemployed in our country who have been
unable to find work.
Housing: The government works with
banks. Currently banks own a ton of foreclosed properties on which
they are losing money. The government, along with some NGOs, works
out a rent structure. Basically the refugee (or unemployed) family is
placed in the house for a reasonable rent that doesn't make a profit
for the bank but eliminates their losses. The government is paying
this rent.
Food/clothing/life: In addition to the
rent, the government is providing each family in the program with a
stipend. The total value of the stipend (with the rent included as
part of the total) should be about a gross of $800/week. Of course
income taxes are taken out of this amount. (I know, the government
taking taxes on money from the government? But that's the way it
works now, so it should for these families as well.) The amount
should be adjusted though depending on how many adults in the family
are working in one of the programs below.
English: Every refugee is required to
attend rigorous courses in English as a second language. The
government will work with NGOs, universities, and colleges who
already have such programs to get the refugees enrolled. By
August/September 2016, every school age child who comes over on this
program needs to have enough English ability to attend public school.
The adults may take longer. But I believe that in two years, they
could have enough ability in English to function well without
translation assistance.
Work: We are not giving all of this
away for free. And remember, this part applies to Americans who are
unemployed as well. Depending on aptitude, physical ability, and
years left in the workforce, those enrolled in my proposed program
will be split into different tasks.
Many will be required to work on
infrastructure projects. The United States has crumbling
infrastructure. Our bridges are becoming unsafe. Our water mains are
old and bursting in many cities. We need to lay fiber optics
throughout the nation. I'm sure you can find plenty of infrastructure
projects in your own community that desperately need work. My program
will provide the labor for these projects. Yes, we will need many
translators in the first year, but a ready supply of unskilled labor
is being provided to municipalities, states, and the federal
executive branch. It's time for a comprehensive update of our
infrastructure, with the labor costs managed ahead of time. This will
make it more affordable for various governments to move forward with
these needed repairs.
Others, who have the aptitude and
interest, are going to be enrolled in nursing schools. We have a
critical shortage of nurses already. And as the Baby Boomers reach
the ages where more and more medical care will be necessary, an
already strained system is going to be overloaded. We will provide
unemployed Americans and new refugees with the educations needed to
obtain BSN degrees. We're not guaranteeing anyone a job at the end of
it, but getting the degree without debt will at least not put them
into a disadvantageous position. And given the many dire projections
about our health care workforce, there should be jobs for them when
they finish. Also, by that point, their language skills should pose
no barriers.
I realize that I am not giving every
individual every possible alternative they might prefer. But if
someone has the skills to get a different job and make the money
themselves that they were getting in the stipend, great! They can
continue to contribute to the economy and work their way to becoming
citizens. And while not every option is available, this is an option
by which people can move to a place where they are safe from war and
bombings and provide food and shelter for their families.
After four or five years, I hope this
program will come to a natural end. Hopefully we have addressed the
many infrastructure problems we have. And by that time, those in the
program will have new work skills or degrees and be able to find
other work and other accommodations. Maybe some of them can even buy
the homes they were living in from the banks.
Okay, so obviously, there are some
major objections to this proposal. Let me deal with those now. And I
think you are going to gasp at #1.
- Erich, this is going to cost a lot! Yes, you are correct. But I have an idea to pay for it. First, Congress needs to pass a comprehensive infrastructure bill. This is true whether or not my program goes into effect. But second, before we put the plan into action we are going to make a deal with the European Union. Currently, they have way more refugees than they know what to do with. We are going to offer to take these one million refugees. We are even going to send our own ships over to Europe to get them. All the European nations need to do is to get the refugees to the ports. And in exchange, the European Union is going to pay the United States 100 billion dollars. (This number could change, but it covers the salaries being paid assuming about one quarter of the refugees are the working adults, the education costs, plus costs for transportation and other logistics.) Would the EU balk at that amount? I'm not sure they would. It is only $10,000 per person. And their current costs must easily be that.
- Erich, this will take a lot of resources. True, but the government would have to work together with NGOs, universities/colleges, and with private industries. Sometimes those partnerships haven't been perfect in the past. But in this case, it's win/win. The NGOs get to fulfill their missions with much of the cost being paid from the government. The universities and colleges are making money educating the refugees. And the private industries, like the construction industry, are getting lots of work.
- Erich, this seems politically unattainable in our current environment. Sadly, I don't know the way around that. We are in a shockingly xenophobic state at present. And our politicians are either falling into fear unbecoming of Americans, or they are pandering to pressures of prejudice among voters. They need to have the courage of their convictions, and I haven't yet figured out how to help them to do that. But maybe my plan has enough positive consequences that they can move past that.
So please, tell me, what are the other
major objections to this idea? Or, if you like it, how do I move it
forward? Do I write to congressmen? Do I start a petition? Your help
would be greatly appreciated.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Tell the Teacher I'm Surfin', Surfin' in ZA – Erich
Note: In the title, that is Surfin' in
Zed A, if you want to say it like a local.
While our main objective for the trip
is to learn about cultures and people, sometimes we like to learn new
skills too. Or you could say, sometimes home school needs a field
trip specifically dedicated to physical education.
Yesterday Carver, Syarra, and I took
surfing lessons at Muizenberg Beach. We had a great time. Our
instructor, Gabriel, was upbeat and encouraging and taught us a great
deal about the sport.
The first step was to put on the wet
suits. This may, in fact, have been the most difficult part of the
process. (Though taking them off isn't exactly simple.) But then it
was carrying the boards out to the beach. There, we began with a jog
through the sand to warm up the blood, or so Gabriel claimed. While
we jogged, Gabriel told us about the shark spotters on Muizenberg
Mountain, he said that Muizenberg Beach is listed in the top five
places to learn to surf, and warned us that there are many mussel
shells along the beach, so tread lightly.
After our jog, we learned the parts of
our board, the nose (front), the tail (back), the top deck (part
where we stand or lay), the bottom deck (part that is in the water),
the fins (like little keels that stick out of the bottom deck near
the tail), and the rails (the edges of the board). We worked in the
sand on how to paddle, push up with our hands, and use our legs to
stand once the wave had us.
Then it was out to the water. First,
let me assure you that Gabriel need not worry that I am about to
replace him at his job. I didn't exactly master it first time out.
(Also, whenever one said “Thank you” to Gabriel, his reply was
“One hundred percent.” He's the first person here I have noted
using this substitution for “You're welcome.”)
Even without mastery, surfing was a
great deal of fun. But I did have a difficult time getting into a
standing position and staying there for more than a millisecond or
two. Luckily, Alrica did manage to get a few pictures that even look
like I made it.
Carver seemed to be the best at
standing, though Syarra was super enthusiastic and she could
certainly ride a long way on her board. Both kids loved it and asked
if we can go again and rent boards and try to improve. I think that's
a possibility on another warm beach day.
I will admit that an hour and a half of
surfing and trying to rise up on the board (or trying to right myself
after I plunged into the ocean) did get tiring. Maybe it would be
better to say exhausting. My muscles were all up in my face (if
muscles could position themselves that way) saying, “Erich, we are
so done with you!” In fact, I didn't blog about it yesterday
because after we got home and had dinner (Alrica made butter chicken
from scratch! Delicious!) I was out. I was asleep even before the
kids had their bedtime.
And today, I will admit that my
shoulders are still a bit sore. But I think I could be ready for
another go at it. I am going to own those waves! They will be mine!
That being said, Alrica tells me in
Namibia, along the Skeleton Coast, the waves are so much higher that
you ride inside the tubes rather than along the crest. Yeah, I think
I'm not quite ready for that. I imagine those waves would own me. The
good news: It isn't called the Skeleton Coast because of all the dead
surfers, but rather because of all the shipwrecks. Still that doesn't
give me quite enough confidence to say, “Ah, what could go wrong?”
If only back when I was in school gym
class had been as fun. (Though I lived in Iowa, so the waves were
much smaller.)
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Fear - Alrica
Here in South Africa, we live on the fourth floor of a
concrete apartment building surrounded by razor wire and electric fences. To be
fair, most of South Africa lives behind similar fences and it is unusual to see
a home not heavily protected. Since arriving six weeks ago, we have witnessed crushing
poverty and oppression, have been approached by beggars many times, and been
crammed onto the third class cars in trains with little room to breath, and yet
we have not experienced crime. We have not seen any reason for the fear that
must clearly exist for people to go to such extreme lengths to protect
themselves. When we ask the residents here about it, most of them talk of a
history of violence, and take steps to protect themselves such as placing their
purses at their feet as they drive, but we don’t hear of recent issues. It is
hard to erase fear from our memories though.
With recent terrorism attacks in Paris, we found ourselves
talking about 9/11. About the fear of not knowing what would happen and whether
we were safe. And of the support of friends and strangers as we went through
that terrible time in NYC.
As we travel around the world, we hope to make smart choices
about where to stop. We check the US State Dept. website for visitor warnings
and give their recommendations due consideration, and follow a variety of news sources, but we decided
early on that we were not going to make our decisions based on fear. After
Namibia, our next stop will be Morocco, an Islamic country. We are preparing
for the visit by learning Arabic and French so that we can communicate in their
languages. We will try to be respectful of their beliefs and will try to see
the world through their eyes.
As we travel through Europe this spring, we hope to visit
with our friends in Paris, and make new friends in other countries, and not be
afraid of what might happen. Our friends in the States read of rioting in Cape
Town and are afraid for us (we found out about the rioting from the same media
sources that they did). We read of reports of civil unrest in Greece, and yet
still want to see that beautiful country.
Terror attacks are intended to make us afraid and if we let
that happen, they have won. Nearly every country in the world has been touched
by terrorism and we hope that by spreading understanding and acceptance, and
teaching this to our children, we can change the future. How has fear shaped
your choices?
Unavoidable Disappointments - Carver
Disappointments are unavoidable. Disappointments can be reduced with good attitudes and low expectations and wanted things. But there are disappointments that even someone with a super good attitude and incredibly low expectations cannot avoid. For example:
Suppose you were someone who enjoys exploring old buildings. You get to a castle and it is under construction. That is what happened at the Castle of Good Hope.
Suppose you love the drinks of a certain soft drink company. But the 2-liter bottles cannot be opened without literally cutting up the cap. This is the problem with Jive.
I can relate this whole topic to two of my subjects that I am learning. The second I can only slightly relate.
I am doing a poem every week and this week I did one called Eternity by William Blake.
He who binds himself to a joy
Does the winged life destroy.
He who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sunrise.
This basically means that if you only find joy in a single thing, you will be unhappy. But if you find joy in everything, you will be happy.
The second thing I can relate it to (I think of weird things so it might just be related through my imagination) is the t-distribution. If you know statistics, you will understand this. Otherwise, you might be able to follow along. The t-distribution curve is a little bit shorter and wider than the normal curve. The more degrees of freedom, the closer the t-graph is to the normal curve. Only at an infinite number of degrees of freedom are they the same. Assuming that the normal curve represents no disappointments ever and degrees of freedom represents the good attitude where one is the worst attitude as one is the lowest degree of freedom possible, then an infinitely good attitude would be required to reach no disappointments. You can do the same with expectations except that the lower the expectations, the higher degrees of freedom that represent it. Again you would need no expectations to have no disappointment.
So, disappointments are unavoidable but good attitude and low expectations can reduce it.
Suppose you were someone who enjoys exploring old buildings. You get to a castle and it is under construction. That is what happened at the Castle of Good Hope.
Suppose you love the drinks of a certain soft drink company. But the 2-liter bottles cannot be opened without literally cutting up the cap. This is the problem with Jive.
I can relate this whole topic to two of my subjects that I am learning. The second I can only slightly relate.
I am doing a poem every week and this week I did one called Eternity by William Blake.
He who binds himself to a joy
Does the winged life destroy.
He who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sunrise.
This basically means that if you only find joy in a single thing, you will be unhappy. But if you find joy in everything, you will be happy.
The second thing I can relate it to (I think of weird things so it might just be related through my imagination) is the t-distribution. If you know statistics, you will understand this. Otherwise, you might be able to follow along. The t-distribution curve is a little bit shorter and wider than the normal curve. The more degrees of freedom, the closer the t-graph is to the normal curve. Only at an infinite number of degrees of freedom are they the same. Assuming that the normal curve represents no disappointments ever and degrees of freedom represents the good attitude where one is the worst attitude as one is the lowest degree of freedom possible, then an infinitely good attitude would be required to reach no disappointments. You can do the same with expectations except that the lower the expectations, the higher degrees of freedom that represent it. Again you would need no expectations to have no disappointment.
So, disappointments are unavoidable but good attitude and low expectations can reduce it.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Reactions to Reactions to the Attacks in Paris – Erich
Like everyone, I am horrified to learn
of the attacks that occurred in Paris yesterday. And, I'm sure I am
not alone in that these attacks make me reflect on September 11,
2001. More so because my friends Bryan and Ami and their two girls
are living in Paris at the moment. On September 11, Alrica and I
could not get back to our home in Jersey City. The trains were not
running and we were stuck in Manhattan. Ami opened up her home to us,
and we walked 80 blocks uptown to stay at her place that night. Bryan
was out of town, and I'm sure Ami didn't mind the company. But she
was so generous to take us in. I'm thankful now that their family is
safe in Paris. And I'm sad for the people of Paris who were hurt or
killed. But there's more.
I've been watching the reactions to
this attack. I don't mean the reactions by governments or even media.
But the reactions of some of my connections in social media. There is
a lot of sympathy. Some natural human anger and desire to act and not
just watch. But there is also some terrifying rhetoric going on.
ISIL has now taken credit for the
attack and there is an outpouring of hatred for this group. But where
it upsets me is when the hatred of extremists becomes a hatred of all
Muslims or all inhabitants of the Middle East.
Do Americans (even some that I know) honestly believe all Muslims
want only jihad and death? Do Americans honestly believe that the Koran
tells them to kill Christians and Jews? Have any of them read the Koran?
Because I would like to know where that passage is. In fact, Muhammad
called Christians and Jews fellow people of the book, because they
worshiped the same god as he did. The problems between Islam and
Judaism developed in the 20th century, more or less along
with the development of Israel as a country.
One post I saw on Facebook showed a map
of Asia Minor with a huge circle of ocean where Egypt, Israel,
Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Saudi Arabia should be. In
the middle it read “Ground Zero”. And the caption read “Problem
solved.” Really? Who would propose killing millions of completely
innocent civilians as fair recompense for the work of extremists? Wouldn't that make us just as vicious a group of killers of innocent people as
them?
A couple of days ago, similar attacks
were carried out in Beirut. Why didn't that attack get as much press?
Why didn't I see any similar reactions on social media? Is it because
the victims of those attacks were brown, or because they were
Muslims, or most likely, both?
What about the millions of Muslims and
others who have been forced out of their homes in Syria and the
nearby region? They are making dangerous journeys to get away from
extremism. They are sleeping in tents, if they're lucky enough to
have tents. They are walking away from everything they had to find a
safer life for themselves and their families. Are they to blame? Or
aren't they victims just like those in Paris?
I don't believe that all Muslims want
our way of life to end. I don't believe that any broad group of
people is evil or inherently bad. Our family is traveling the world
for the next two years exactly for this reason, so that we can learn
about other cultures, see how they live, understand their way of
life. Because it is just as wrong for us to to want their way of life
to end as it would be for them to feel that way.
Muslims are just like you and me. They
want to leave a better world for their children than they had
themselves. They want to be able to go to and from work and worship
and leisure in safety. They want to be able to practice their
religion with the same freedom that the rest of us enjoy.
Yes, there are extremists. And they do
hideous things. There are Muslim extremists. There are Christian
extremists. There are Jewish extremists. There are even extremists
who have no religious affiliation at all. And extremists are
dangerous. Let's fight the conditions that foment extremism. And when
we have to, let's fight the already existing extremists. But let's
not apply that wrath to entire groups based on their color, religion,
or geographical location.
Not even in our rhetoric.
Friday, November 13, 2015
Robben Island and First Solution – Erich
The other day, after touring the Slave
Lodge, I posted some thoughts on Black Lives Matter which I called
Free Lives Matter. At the time, I promised to think about solutions
to some of the problems that the USA faces, and I asked others to do
the same. Well, I have been thinking and I would like to propose one
possible idea here. It goes along with our excursion of Wednesday.
We visited Robben Island. The name
comes from the Dutch word for seal, for when the Dutch first found
the island it had thousands of seals on it. These days, the seals
don't use it anymore. But boy, the humans certainly have.
Out of Cape Town Harbor you enter Table
Bay. And in Table Bay you find Robben Island. It has been used for
many things including a hospital, an asylum, a leper colony, a place
of banishment and exile, and most famously, a prison.
Robben Island's prisons did hold
criminals who had broken the regular civil laws of South Africa. But
it is more well know for holding political prisoners, those who
fought against apartheid and the government who supported it. The
most famous Robben Island prisoner was Nelson Mandela who wrote his
Long Road to Freedom while incarcerated on the island. He hid the
manuscript in a small garden he tended by burying it every night. He,
and other leaders of the political movement, each lived in a small
cell that gave them one mat on which to sleep (on the floor), a
basin, and a bucket. You were able to leave your cell and go into the
yard or to the bathroom from 7:00 to 3:30 (or 7h00 to 15h30 as they
might write it here). Outside of those times, you were locked in the
cell. You went to the bathroom in your bucket and then at 7:00, when
you were allowed out again, carried your bucket to the toilets to
empty and clean it.
Apartheid extended to the prisons as
well. Robben Island was only the home of the non-white male political
prisoners. If you were white or a woman, you were kept at different
prisons on the mainland.
One of the issues that I considered in
my previous post was that of our own prisons, filled with thousands
upon thousands of people whose crime is drug possession. They haven't
been convicted of any violent crime, but still they spend years
incarcerated. And taxes pay for this, imprisoning people with the
disease of addiction rather than treating them.
I have given it some thought and I have
a proposal to make.
First, the federal and state
governments work together to investigate alternatives to traditional
incarceration for addicts who have not committed violent crimes.
These alternatives should involve some sort of rehabilitation,
programs that help to break the addiction, and let people get on with
their lives in a healthy and positive way.
One such program is the Adult Drug
Court program run in various states. Here are a couple of links about
the program.
Significantly, some of the findings
when Adult Drug Courts are evaluated are very positive. Here is a
quote from the Bureau of Justice Assistance: “Evaluation studies
consistently show that while offenders are participating in adult
drug courts, they are less likely to commit crime, and,
consequently, states and localities save money on criminal justice
system costs.”
There haven't yet been many long term
studies of Adult Drug Court participants, but they are still
relatively young. Hopefully, the long term evaluations also show
positive results. If not, other models must be tried and evaluated.
Second, states and the federal
government need to shift the criminal codes so that more people can
be placed into programs like Adult Drug Court rather than into
prison. Mandatory minimums sound hard-line, but the evidence shows
that they have not reduced the number of people addicted to drugs.
And they are costing taxpayers so much money!
Third, new drug offenses need to be
tried and handled with the alternatives chosen in step one above.
This probably means more Adult Drug Courts (or other alternatives)
must be established. But the savings in the costs of imprisonment
will more than cover these costs.
Finally, fourth, and this one would
take some real political courage, the governors and president need to
pardon thousands of people who are serving terms for non-violent drug
offenses. If these people commit another such crime, they should be
dealt with in the new courts established in step three.
Will it work? I don't know for sure,
and I can't know before it is tried. But we do already know that what
we are doing at present isn't working. And thousands of people are
losing their lives (not death, but complete loss of freedom) over the
sickness of addiction.
I would appreciate your thoughts on
this plan. If you see holes in it, let me know and I can think of
possible solutions. If you think it would work, help me brainstorm
how to make it a reality. Because for too many people, the lack of
free lives is already their reality.
Table Mountain as seen from Robben Island.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Girl Guides - Syarra
One of the things
I look forward to each week here in Cape Town is Girl Scout Meetings. I love
being at girl scouts in South Africa. Back in the States I was working on my
bronze award as a Junior Girl Scout and I wanted to finish on our trip around
the world, so luckily there are Girl Scouts in South Africa (called Girl
Guides). After a bit of research, we met them at an annual meeting that they
call Guide Sunday, where they talked about different religions. This gave me a
good chance to finish my bronze award as our project was about spreading
religious understanding and tolerance. On Guide Sunday, we had leaders from
many religions come work with us to learn more about their religion. We also
made friends with one of the leaders of a Rondebosch Guide and Rangers troops
who invited us to attend one of her weekly meetings. That turned into a weekly
thing that I really enjoy going to.
I find there are
a few similarities and differences. It is similar because they sing songs,
though they are not ones I know, but what do I know, so we learned them. They
also do art projects, like last week I began working on sewing a bag with the
World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts logo painted on it. We also
play games such as Snoopy (that involves hand-eye coordination).
In some ways
though, they are very different. Girl Guides are ranked according to age, not
grade. They start with Teddies for 4.5-7 year olds, then Brownies for 7-10.5,
Guides are 10.5-14, and Rangers are 14-18. The troop we visit are actually for
older girls but they have been very nice and get to do much more than Brownies.
The girls wear very different uniforms (which come complete with scarves,
skirts, shirts, and even socks) though they don’t wear them to regular meetings.
For fundraising
they have to plan events to earn money since they do not do cookie sales like
we do. They plan events like trivia night and car washes. They also are allowed
to do really cool things like building rafts out in the ocean and racing them.
There are not as many rules about what troops can do.
Robben Island Day - Carver
Today we visited Robben Island. I will go through Robben Island briefly. Enjoy the Poem! Well, not exactly a poem.
It was early. We got up. We ate and left for the Kenilworth Station. We took it all the way to Cape Town. And from there. At Thibault Square. We went on a bus to the waterfront. The waterfront stretched along Table Bay. To a ferry. Is where we walked. It took us out of Table Bay. All the way to Robben Island. At the island. Another bus. It drove around the island for a while. Discussing and stopping at important things. The famous prison. Is where we stopped. Someone who once lived there. Showed us all around. 200 meters. To the ferry we walked. We got to the waterfront. And then we walked to the bus. Thibault once again. Though different now. We walked to a lunch place in Greenmarket Square. Ethiopian food was what we ate. And we walked back. To the train station. And rode it back to Kenilworth. And we came home and the poem is done.
Skipping back in time! Oh, and you can see how my poem was not really a real poem.
Ethiopian food! I am skipping (entirely) Robben Island. I’m sure someone will find something incredibly deep-thinking to say but I enjoy the, well, mundane details.
It is interesting. The way you eat is similar to Indian food. They have spongy breads (which I didn’t like) that you pick up food with. It also contains of lots of sauces. There is a handwashing ceremony where they bring a teapot-looking thing and pour warm water on your hands over a drainage pot. They dump out a big platter of food on a plate covered in the bread. You really have to try it. The table is wicker and is shaped like a bowl sitting on a cone. The drinks all came with lime slices which is ironic because I got lemonade (not limeade). Lemonade here is carbonated and clear. The food was good and we got lots of different things to share. The food was okay but the culture was very interesting.
It was early. We got up. We ate and left for the Kenilworth Station. We took it all the way to Cape Town. And from there. At Thibault Square. We went on a bus to the waterfront. The waterfront stretched along Table Bay. To a ferry. Is where we walked. It took us out of Table Bay. All the way to Robben Island. At the island. Another bus. It drove around the island for a while. Discussing and stopping at important things. The famous prison. Is where we stopped. Someone who once lived there. Showed us all around. 200 meters. To the ferry we walked. We got to the waterfront. And then we walked to the bus. Thibault once again. Though different now. We walked to a lunch place in Greenmarket Square. Ethiopian food was what we ate. And we walked back. To the train station. And rode it back to Kenilworth. And we came home and the poem is done.
Skipping back in time! Oh, and you can see how my poem was not really a real poem.
Alrica, Carver, and Syarra at the V&A Waterfront in front of Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa |
Erich, Carver, and Syarra at the V&A Waterfront in front of Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa |
It is interesting. The way you eat is similar to Indian food. They have spongy breads (which I didn’t like) that you pick up food with. It also contains of lots of sauces. There is a handwashing ceremony where they bring a teapot-looking thing and pour warm water on your hands over a drainage pot. They dump out a big platter of food on a plate covered in the bread. You really have to try it. The table is wicker and is shaped like a bowl sitting on a cone. The drinks all came with lime slices which is ironic because I got lemonade (not limeade). Lemonade here is carbonated and clear. The food was good and we got lots of different things to share. The food was okay but the culture was very interesting.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Mundane Details – Erich
Nothing groundbreaking in today's post.
Today, I got a haircut. I know, mundane, right? But for anyone else
who wants to travel for long periods of time like we are, such
tedious details come up. So if any of the readers are ever getting a
haircut in South Africa, here are the things you need to know:
First, they call it a haircut, same as
we do in the states. I like to have the back and sides of my hair cut
with the number three clippers. Again, good news, in South Africa
they call those the number three clippers.
Stylists here, much like those at home,
can be chatty. That's no problem except when the clippers are on and
my stylist, Molly, is speaking, I have no idea what she is saying.
Even when the clippers are off, I often had a hard time
understanding. I tried to figure out why I have a tough time, and I
realized it is often about the letter r. The South Africans barely
pronounce the letter r in various words, if they pronounce it at all.
For example, I have a mark on my ear. Molly asked if my ear was
“saw”. I was trying to figure out what she meant by saw. Saw?
Salt? It took me a bit to realize she was saying “sore”. (Good
news, it is not.)
The radio was playing at the shop and
music must be somewhat global. I noted three songs. The first was a
song I am not familiar with, though it was in the same pop music
style as those at home. But the singer was not American and I did
have a difficult time understanding some of the lyrics. The other two
songs were American classics that I would have likely heard at home
on a classic rock station, “Ain't No Mountain High Enough” and
“Total Eclipse of the Heart”. Also, like at home, the morning DJs
were a pair, one man, one woman, who bantered with each other like
even cloud formations were funny.
The cost of the haircut was 120 rand,
which is a between 8 and 9 dollars. With tip, I maybe spent $10. A
bargain! (Not as inexpensive as that barber school in Manhattan where
I used to get my hair done when I was at NYU, but then sometimes
there were spots on my head where the barber-in-training had shaved
off all the hair accidentally. Once, I remember my friend Donna, who
was one of those always positive people, trying to compliment me on
my horrible haircut. Her phrase, “Well, it'll grow back.”) Here I
got a very nice haircut for a good price. So if you are looking to
save some money, just fly to South Africa every time you need a trim.
All right, the flight would probably break the bank. But don't focus
on the obstacles. Just tell yourself, “there ain't no mountain high
enough.”
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Free Lives Matter – Erich
Today we visited a museum in Cape Town
called the Slave Lodge. In the time when the Dutch West Indies
Company controlled the cape, this was literally a slave lodge. All
the slaves owned by the company were locked up here each night in a
big courtyard with no windows by which they could even see the
outside. Some of the slaves were from other parts in Africa, some
from India and Sri Lanka, and many from Indonesia.
Since that time, the building has been
a variety of governmental buildings including the Supreme Court for
the Cape area. But now it is a museum that has exhibits related to
slavery and also apartheid. The exhibit got me thinking a great deal,
as good exhibits should. And my thoughts turned to the United States
and some of the issues facing our country today.
You know the Black Lives Matter
movement? I think that people only understand half of what that
phrase means. Yes, it absolutely does mean that black people should
not be indiscriminately killed for minor infractions of the law (and
certainly not for no infraction of the law which also occurs.) But
there is another part of it, and this part affects a lot more people
every single day. It's not about life vs. death, but about life,
meaning you are free to live your life as you would have it lived.
I'm white. If I walk down a street in
the United States and I am in no way breaking the law, I can pretty
much count on the fact that the police aren't going to shoot me, stop
me, or probably even give me a second glance. I'm free to do what I
want to do, of course, within the scope of the law. And the
authorities are not going to be scrutinizing my every move.
But if someone is black, do you think
this is their everyday existence? When they walk down the street,
doing nothing wrong, do they get second glances? I bet they do. Do
they get extra scrutiny? I bet they do. And do they have a higher
chance of being accused of something or interrogated, hurt, or
possibly even killed by the police than a white person does? I bet
they do. (By the way, when I say, “I bet they do” I'm really
saying yes.)
Some might argue that at times even
white people are wrongly killed by authorities. True. But it is
incredibly rare. And when it happens, you can bet there will be a
real investigation, a real grand jury trial (if not just an
indictment), and a real trial. But for blacks, it is neither so rare,
nor can they expect the same sort of follow up and justice.
Now I'm getting back into the life vs.
death part of it. Think about the other part. My life matters and as
part of that life, I want freedom to pursue happiness, to make a
difference, to go about whatever it is I want to go about doing.
Shouldn't that same opportunity be available for all our citizens,
regardless of the color of their skin? Black Lives Matter is not just
saying stop the killing. It is saying stop the restriction of their
freedoms. Free Lives Matter!
Part of the exhibit today focused on
people who stood up against apartheid, including white people. They
were labeled as communists. They were accused of treason. They were
imprisoned. And their families were threatened. There was the story
of one man who argued against apartheid who spent eight years in
prison. And there are many who spent longer.
Think about this. Can you imagine if
you were put into prison for eight years? What would that be like?
You can't do what you want to do. You can't speak to who you want to
speak to. Your letters are censored. Your visits are restricted. And
you can't accomplish what you want to accomplish. For years at a
time!
In the United States, we have thousands
and thousands of people in prison, more people per capita than any
other country – by far more than any other country. And many of these
are in prison for drug possession. With mandatory minimums, we have
people locked up for years of their lives. And why? Did they hurt
someone? No. Why? Because they have a sickness, an addiction. And
rather than treat them, we imprison them. We are taking away their
freedoms! If we took people convicted of drug possession and forced
them into treatment instead of into prison, it wouldn't cost more. It
would restrict their freedom, but for a shorter amount of time. And
when they were done with treatment, they would have freedom again,
the ability to accomplish things. How can we make this happen?
I know what you are thinking and you
are right. You're saying, “Erich, it isn't good enough to just
point out problems. You need solutions!” Okay, I'm going to think
about solutions. And I hope you will help me to think about solutions
and not just tell me that there are no solutions, or that the current
system is the best that it can be. Because I can't believe the system
is at its best if so many people are unable to have the same freedoms
that I enjoy.
Free lives matter.
The very important person who I can never respect again because the first time I saw him, he had a pigeon on his head – Carver
Names
This is probably one of my
longest blog titles. The next headings of this post will all be
annoying, giving you no clues.
Kenya is the lock of Africa
This is probably very
useless and it sounds like a metaphor but it is not. We were looking
through Greenmarket Square and there were lots of Africa -shaped
boxes. It was always Kenya that held them shut.
Earth is a web of
connections, South Africa is on Mars
Another good useless
metaphor. Another post about the Internet here. I just spoiled what
this one was about. The Internet here is terrible. I'm not wasting
more of the post to retell the story again. So,we ran out of
Internet. But at Telkom, they said that we apparently need proof of
address to get Internet which you need a utilities bill to get. We
are renting and don't get those bills, though. A different Telkom let
us get Internet.
The very important person
who I can never respect again because the first time I saw him, he
had a pigeon on his head
My last piece. This is a
terrible metaphor. But I suppose you are wondering what it means.
There was a statue in Church Square of a very important person. But
the first time I saw him there was a pigeon sitting on his head. So
how could I respect him after that? We came back later to take a picture and learn his name for this post. His name is Jan Hendrik Hofmeyr.
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