Okay, got a little freaked outr by photography girl yesterday. She rang me at my aunts house while I was eating dinner, and I know for a fact I hadn't told her where I lived, or my aunts name. Kind of creepy. But it was also kind of sweet, as the only reason she rang the house was someone stole her mobile phone about an hour after she'd given me her number and she didn't want me to think she was blowing me off. Uh, maybe standing me up is a better phrase to use there.
So, I went to the gig and met Jochen along with two other Germans and two Americans before going in the door. I must say I was pretty impresed with the music. First to play were a band called Epsilon, who reeked completely of the Hives with their bassist adding an occasional deeper vocal touch straight from Kings of Leon's more fast paced tracks. I got to chat to them afterwards, and they play far too in synch for a band that's only been together six months. The second band was Casette, who have a record contract and an albulm out already. They were really enjoyable live, but I think they might wear on me a bit when I pick the albulm up. Their music's a very interesting combination, foundations having the same general feel as Lostprophets Sway, then building on that with an interesting vocal range that seems to skip between imitating Radiohead, Coldplay and Bright Eyes. The guitar tracks are far too different for it to be fair to make a straight comparison to any of those bands though.
I didn't see photo-girl there, but there was a hell of a lot of people and I did turn up late, so I'm hoping she calls again so we can reorganise. Probably arrange to meet somewhere a little quieter next time though, as I mainly just want to ask her a shitload of questions abut life in Obz, Cape Town, South Africa in general. I'm going to take a stroll down to the place I met her after I've jumped in the shower on the off-chance she'll be around and doing her work again.
This afternoon, I'm off to a huge shopping center called Canal Walk, or Century City. I'm determined to get a decent pair of black jeans from the SA equivilant of TKMaxx, and Amazing Spider-man 530 (which is only just out down here, three months late). Otherwise, book and coffee or accosting random strangers. That's always fun.
Okay, Knysna has done bloody wonders to me. My self security and confidence levels are way, way up. Let me explain:
I just went out to take my aunts dog for a walk down to a grassy area by a river, which I completely failed to find. Instead I ended up standing outside a hockey stadium watching the girls play (yes, watching, not perving. Difficult for even me to believe). So, decidedly lost, I approached a girl messing about with palm leaves standing by the side of the road to ask for directions to this doggy heaven.
Asking for directions turned into a twenty minute conversation, which turned into getting her phone number to go out for a drink this evening. For the record, it's not meant as a date, it's just me latching on to someone my age to save me from another painfully awkward conversation with my aunt about things I'd rather not talk about but can't seem to stop myself from doing so. The person being pretty and female is just a definite bonus. No idea how Zoe (palm tree girl) took my talking to her, but I wouldn't be complaining at all if it turns into a date. I'm feeling rather chuffed at the moment.
When I haven't been seducing innocent photography students, I've been working in the cheese shop. The Real Cheese. Well, I say in the shop but I mean doing deliveries with the Xhosa driver David, not even going to try and spell his surname; it has clicky sounds in it. This has taken me all around the city bowl, the southern parts of Cape Town that border the ocean (watche some awesome surfing yesterday) and the winelands - where I recognised a couple of resaurants I'd been to with the family when I was here for the millenium.
I met some other volunteers in a pizza place around the corner a couple of nights ago, but I haven't heard back from my inquiries as to if they have anything planned this weekend. Logic tells me they're blowing me off, as most of them are German and therefore obviously do not understand my sense of humour.
<joke>How dare you call me a bigot, I taught black kids.</joke>
I have to dig an irrigation system for my aunts garden this weekend. Joy oh joy.
Okay, this teaching placement sucks. I haven't mentioned that to you over the phone, dear parents, as there's always loads of people around when you phone and the politics are strained enough without people having ammunition on me. I'm seriously not cut out for teaching; I just can't quite seem to interact properly with the little kids in class, and all of them outside of it.
I do like Knysna though, and I don't hate what I'm doing. It's just really, really hard in a different way to the one I imagined. All the crime hasn't helped much, either.
Yup, crime. Again. Our house got broken into while all 16 of us were in there asleep and a load of stuff got stolen from the kitchen and hall.
Malene came and visited, and with her presence I worked out I'm terrified of relationships. I don't think I've had a revelation that made so much sense for quite a long time. I might also be scared of sex for reasons besides it's connotations to relationships, but I'm still working on that.
Dario, dude, I miss talking to you so much. And Justy, and Roald, and everyone else who makes up part of my normal life. I can't wait to get home.
Yesterday was fun. Just imagine the usual volume of sarcasm that's present in my voice and that'll read fine.
Explanation? Sure, why not. After my stroll around the marketplace with Marcus, we headed back to the hostel. On the way back, five black teenagers appeared from both sides begging. Soon as Marcus was through them, they circled me and one tried to put his hand down one of my pockets. Not really trhinking straight, I punched him in the chest and told him "Get your hands out of my fucking pockets." Now, I'm usually a complete and utter pussy so it scared the hell out of me that I did that by reflex.
I've got no idea why they backed off, obviously they weren't armed becuase otherwise they would have just mugged me rather than made a pathetic attempt at pickpocketing. I must have just surprised them with a firm, offensive reaction or something. I seriously don't know how people can live happily in a city this unsecure.
The thing that made Marcus and I laugh as we went off though, was that the only thing in the pocket the kid went for was a rolled up copy of the Big Issue we'd been guilted into buying earlier. Ironic, really.
Blair Witch 2 is awful. I have no idea why I agreed with Harry and Marcus to rent it.
So, got to thew lodge last night to find not a trace of my two friends. Found out this morning they buggered off clubbing jusdt before I got in on the bus. Great.
Malene's definately travelling now, so I should be seeing her in Knysna. This bodes well. I think we're going to go ride an elephant.
Marcus wants to climb Table Mountain today, Harry wants to take the cable car. Guess who I'm going with. (HINT: I'm lazy).
E-mail has finally decided to be my bestest buddy again, but it's being over enthusiatic and sending me a lot of porn spam. The most annoying poart is I don't know if this is my fault for signing up to stuff, or if it's just general inbox raping.
There's a jazz festival going on somewhere, must do further research.
So, yesterday afternoon - on a whim - I scrapped my carefully planned and meticulated root down to Cape Town wih a cry of sod it. Instead, I'm going all the way tonight. Because I'm bored.
My friends from Seaview are in Cape Town already, and instead of doing all this stuff now wishing my friends were here I'm going to meet up with them. Then, when I head back to Knysna and make friends at the teaching thingie, I can go get eaten by crocodiles and tigers with them.
But it means I have a 10/11 hour minibus journey to look forward to. Buggery. It shouldn't be too bad, though, as I have Tad Williams and a Pokemon game to keep me occupied, accompanied by my iPod.
Sef - The new e-mail thing hardly works wherever I try. I've only managed to log in once and it took ten minutes. Also, has all my old mail been deleted? Because that would be a bitch. I won't have Kaz's e-mail of doom to amuse me when I'm depressed.
Oh, I was over exaggerating about Malenea a bit. I think. If I'm not over it by the time I get back, Justy has permission to kick me in the head.
Okay, first off, sorry about missing the updates. It was merry hell trying to get to somewhere with internet for my last two days off, and a few events of note have passed (including others which I've probably forgotten.)
The Dutch were awesome, if I never mentioned. Especially Aggie and Irene, who taught me how to call someone a dirty slut in their mother language. Seeing as this is close to Afrikaans, I've been annoying the royal hell out of everyone by saying it over, and over, and over again.
Bloody minded stupidity number one: Having a one and a half metre long Anaconda dropped around my neck while a tame crow was sitting on my head trying to find bugs in my hair. (They gave me skins. I want to put one in the Forresters; who I also wrote a postcardx that I keep forgetting to send.)
Bloody minded stupidity number two: Falling extremely heavily for one of the two Danish girls who showed up at the end of my second week. This has now given me a royal headfuck over the two days I've been away from the game park. So I don't leave this two ambiguous, nothing happened there at all. She didn't even know I was hiding a massive thing for her until after I left; being the hopeless romantic I am, I left her a letter under her pillow along with my hammock (which I knew she'd been coveting).
She's said she might come visit me in Knysna when I go there to teach, and i have not a damned clue what to think about that. Half of me would adore seeing her and desperately try to - no, not get in her pants - achieve some kind of validation for a mutual affection. The other half prays she doesn't, so I don't go through my usual routine of making a complete arse of myself, or something amazing actually happening but only for a day.
I even caught myself thinking about dropping out of JMU and applying for university in Copenhagen while brutally sodomising all consequences, that's how badly I fell for her. Don't worry parents, it was a half-asleep thought on the Baz Bus while I was listening to mushy music.
Anyway, I'm on the road now for a week. So far I've pissed about on zip lines 60 feet off the floor, which was alright, but not as amazing as one might think. Especially with a family of loud, stupid czechoslovakians (serious spelling problem, there). Chalk up another embedded racial prejudice for me. If I can time table and afford it, I'll also be shooting stuff up with various assault rifles and handguns, abseiling down a waterfall into a canoe, messing around with cheetas, tigers and crocodiles, and something else which I've forgotten.
I've done a bit of writing while I've been out here, the second chapter of 'Nothin' but blue skies, baby' is nearly finished (childbirth is a bitch to write) and (God help me) I've started replanning Faithless under a different title with a slightly different premise and no original characters. Seph, you have my permission to give my ass a sound kicking for this.
I am obscenely hairy, and my tan deteriotes by the minute. I swear I go to bed brown and wake up white again. Still, I think people will look twice before recognising me when I get back. I have a DVD which is going to bore the shit out of everyone, but you wll all watch it, or will suffer my wrath.
Yaen fichen shlets.
The Dutch are pretty cool. Especially this girl Aggie.
Well, I say girl, but she's 27 nso I guess it would be woman. She looks like Angelina Jolie and would be an amazing accomplishment, but I'm too out of practice to take a challenge like that on. Besides, I've already sworn myself to Jake's mum (Harharhar).
We've now got a pet meercat that wakes me up every two hours when marcus feeds it. A tunnel entrance colapsed on it or something, and now it can't use its back legs. The mother wasn't letting it drink after we freed it with a stick, so we had to take it out. I want to call it Cripps, but everyone's objecting for some reason.
There's been a couple of Brai's (barbecues) in the last week that've been pretty fun. Everyone's ended up geting a little drunk and getting along famously. Especially last night, seeing as two of the girls are leaving today - Sarah being one of them, thank Jinnai. The other one's Fran, and she's pretty cool; acts like a conplete public school horsey girl, but the truth's very far from that. Then Marcus and Harry are off on monday, leaving me as the only male volunteer in the park until I leave. But the girl who's coming on monday has a French sounding surname (Valeur), and a .dk e-mail address. My interest is sufficiently peaked, and that's not a metaphor Kim. Mind out of the gutter.
Goes for the rest of you, too.
I have got photo capability and such like now, but sod's blody law, apparantly I need a password to send e-mails which I don't know. You'd think I'd be told that stuff seeing as it's my cell phone. Oh, it's also forced a PIN code on that I always forget. Vodacom sucks ass.
Other things that suck ass, my iPod headphones broke. This pisses me off mostly because the night before I left, I spent about half an hour considering whether to take spare headphones or not, eventually settling on a no as it was just one more thing to lose.
Enough bitching, I am having an awesome time in between having my hair ripped out and my flesh gouged. I've got so many little stories to tell, but they wouldn't work in text. I need to tell them myself when I get back, and inject them with little flares of dramatics.
Parents - I've only got a couple of minutes left on my internet time, so I won't be able to e-mail you. Could you check into that e-mail thing with Orange for me? I know I'm not with them at the moment, but I still use Orange World for my WAP server.
This is my mobile number for anyone who wants it - 0769867130. I think you need +27 instead of the beginning 0, but I'd check that. Not that any of you are going to ring me.
Love you all, and update next Friday.
The moment I got to the park I got thrown into work with the other five volunteers, which I wasn't best happy about; seeing as I was wearing a pair of nice jeans and a nice t-shirt. But no mater how much milk and porridge the cubs spill over me when we feed them, they are adorable. My arms are completely covered in scratches and bite marks because they're all little bastards at heart. I don't have my phone at the moment so I couldn't take photos, but there's five nine-week-old cubs, and four twelve-week-olds who are considerable bigger. They all live together and can be a considerable pain in the arse when the public want to handle them. The other pen has four six-months in, and they're brilliant as long as you're careful - one nearly took my finger off yesterday.
Ricard - this insane guy who works on the park and goes in the full grown lion enclosures - took us up to the enclosure night before last and it was unbelievable. The lions all started roaring when we were standing barely a meter away from them, and some of the males started fighting. Seriously, Ricard is sodding mental. Every single enclosure he'd go up to the wire mesh, stick his arms through and give a lion a massive hug. Completely mental. There's so much to say about the place, but I just don't have the words. Once I've got some photos e-mailed to myself, I'll be able to talk properly about the meercats and mutant monkeys. It's more of a visually funny thing.
The other volunteers I'm working with are pretty cool, except for a housewife called Sarah who really needs to pull the stick out of her arse. From the amount she goes on, it seems she hates pretty much every principle of the park, but yet still stays here and goes into the cub enclosure to cuddle - something she disagrees strongly with the public doing, which does include us in my book - her favourite cub. She pays no attention to the others. Other source of vague headstabbing mood is the bedrooms. There's four, and the girl's all have their own room. I have to share with two guys in the smallest room. But there is a caravan outside for overspill, and I'm tempted to move into it (mainly because of the double bed).
I cooked pancakes on tuesday, went down pretty well. Have been forced into agreeing to make more before these guys all leave in just over a week. There's a new girl coming the day after tomorrow, and then one on the 12th, and one on the 13th.
Along with a load of Dutch people. I fucking hate Dutch people, I expect I'll end up tipping one or two off of the patio outside the resaurant into the six months enclosure. Fwahahah.
Got quite wasted the first night, but apart from that I haven't been drinking alcohol. Most of my money's going on the excessive amounts of bottled water and cream soda I've been drinking. The weather's been really, really bizarre. It's pretty much alternating between days of blistering heat, and pissing rain. Today's a heat one, but the wind's blowing in pretty harsh so I'm not missing out by being in the mall.
I can see the sea from outside the office and there's been some beautiful waves. I'd so love to run down there and make a tit of myself on a surfboard, but that's going to have to wait until Knysna.
Missing talking to you all loads, and I can't get into my e-mail at the moment so I can't send individual messages of love and such. Or in the case of Sef, hate, because my e-mail cacking up is obviously his fault. So until I manage to get into it, I'll be using email@example.com as backup for you guys to send a CC to. That's if any of you are e-mailing me, of course.
I'd like to hear from all of you guys, but Lian, lycoris, and any of my RL buddies would be awesome, as I don't know/can't remember your e-mail addresses. Hope all of you are safe and happy, and I'll try and get some photos as soon as my Aunt send me my phone.
Okay, so here I am in sunny Cape Town, having finally found my way to a computer. As predicted, the flight was much less than perfect, but better than I had feared. It was completely the fault of the French.
There was a French family sitting near me, and ther son must have been mentally disabled At one point he shouted "Grand Jacques!" over and over for the best part of five minutes (which I had a private little shiver-related snigger at). That and his countdown as we were landing being "Dix! Neuf! Cinq! Six!"
He was permanently loud throughout the entire twelve hours, and whenever his father got up to go to the toilet, he would immediately jump up and cross the aisle to lean over me and look out the window. Even if the kid was unhinged, that's no excuse for his parents to let him annoy the ever-loving Jesus out of the rest of the passangers.
And on the connecting flight to Cape Town some bitch kneecapped me by putting her seat back, and repeatedly bouncing it to try and get me to move my knees Which I couldn't, as I had no room. I was very close to pulling down the panel above her head and using the oxygen tube to throttle her.
My Aunts house is awesome, and it has a weird little pool with a backdraft thing, so you can swim in it without actually moving. Her labradour is something killing me by allergies, I think; my runny nose has been going on too much for it to be the plane messing up my sinuses.
I've done a bit of last minute shopping and I'm going to have another bash at getting my phone unlocked to South African SIM cards, then it's off to Port Elizabeth at 12. So unless someone has a laptop there, it'll probably be another week before my next post. If my phone's sorted, I should have some photos too.
(Twilight Princess is definately being released on Gamecube. Thank God for that.)