Stephanie Nolen on the road

Hey all,

I thought I'd use this space to let you know that Stephanie Nolen will be speaking in a town near most of you in the near future.

KINGSTON - Monday, Nov. 5 - 7 p.m. - Dunning Auditorium at Queen's (where I've previously witnessed performances by Professor Jonathan Rose, Professor Robert Malcolmson and Joel Plaskett)
Here's the only web posting I've found. I think admission is by donation.

TORONTO ISLAND - Friday, Nov. 9 - 7:30 p.m. - Algonquin Island Club House - $28 includes wine and cheese. Go here for more.

Apparently she's also guest hosting The Current on CBC Radio next Friday, or maybe the Friday after; The Current's website doesn't have anything about it.

And if you haven't heard, 28 was nominated for the Governor-General's Award for non-fiction.

Some stuff

Hey,

I've got a few more blogs up at JournAIDS, and there should be a couple more up on Monday.

And here's something I wrote for CMFD/Gender Links a while back. Apparently it has been picked up by The Southern Times, an online newspaper that I can't really figure out.

The article was part of a project that Erin and I facilitated when we were with CMFD. We got migrant women to write short biographies about how they came to live in South Africa and what their experience had been like since they arrived. We called them MyStories. There was also photo element to the project, facilitated by an American student, also named Erin, who's part of a media access organization called ImMEDIAcy. She lent the MyStories participants point and shoot cameras and told them to document a day in their lives. The photo essays were supposed to be published alongside the MyStories, but that seems to have fallen by the wayside. Anyway, the stories that Erin and I edited can be found here. (They're the ones from October)

And I've now posted my photos from Mafikeng at my Flickr here. I took tons of videos of the ceremony and all the ANC singing and toyi-toying, but it would kill my Internet data bundle to post those, so the photos will have to do for now.

Ha

I found this here.

But it's kind of misleading because when you read the source article here, the story is actually about the scarcity of jobs, not the relative safety/enjoyability/comfort (or whatever) of the thing. See:

Another endangered species: journalists. Despite the proliferation of media outlets, newspapers, where the bulk of U.S. reporters work, will cut costs and jobs as the Internet replaces print. While current events will always need to be covered (we hope), the number of reporting positions is expected to grow by just 5 percent in the coming decade, the Labor Department says. Most jobs will be in small (read: low-paying) markets.

I imagine septic-tank cleaner is still the one to beat on the worst job list. Coal miner's probably up there too.

Forgive me my ominous secrecy

... it seems the Globe has already published Stephanie's feature on the exhumations in Mafikeng (and elsewhere) in this past Saturday's Focus section.

Go here to read about it. And I'll let you know when I get around to posting my own photos.

(Thanks, Anna, for pointing this out to me; I've fallen a little behind in my Canadian newspaper reading.)

Can't call me Cal no more

... 'cause my streak is over: I got mugged in Cape Town. I totally forgot to mention it in my long trip-update diatribe. I guess that says something about the severity of the thing. As far as muggings go, I think it was pretty tame.

I was walking back to my hostel from the train station after spending the day in Khayelitsha and I was about a block away from Long St., which is the main thoroughfare in downtown Cape Town. Just before Long St., I saw a sign pointing out the direction of the "company gardens" which Kylie had told me were worth a visit, so on a whim, I decided to turn down the street. I was in the heart of downtown Cape Town, which hadn't seemed dangerous at all, and it was around 6pm and still very much in daylight, but I quickly realized that I was the only one on the street. Well, the only one aside from a very aggressive-looking panhandler. As he approached me, I knew pretty well that he wasn't going to be content with any pocket change, but as he got close, a car passed near us which presented a brief diversion and I turned around and tried to speed walk in the other direction up to Long. He, of course, caught up to me, grabbed me (not too forcefully, though) and told me to give him my money. I resisted a little, telling him I didn't have much (which was true, and I was a little worried that he wasn't going to be content with what I had) and then he told me he didn't want to use his knife, so I quickly reached into my pocket, grabbed some cash and handed it to him. Then he left.

I only lost about R80, which is about $12, so really it wasn't too bad. And I'm pretty sure he was a drug addict looking to get a fix, because I had another R50 in my pocket, but he seemed content with what I gave him. He was about the same size as me and by himself, so not physically imposing at all, and I never saw or felt a knife, but I wasn't exactly wanting him to prove to me that he had it. It's possible that if I had resisted more or shoved him away or something he would have backed off, but I figure that for R80, I wasn't really prepared to call his stabbing bluff.

I was a little shaken up after it happened, but then I was just annoyed by the irony of it all: Everyone gasps when I tell them that I'm in Hillbrow once a week - or even that I've been living and working in Jo'burg - and they all say, "You should go to Cape Town; it's way more chilled and laid back." Fuck that. It may have been that I let my guard down in Cape Town and wasn't as sharp as I usually am walking around Jozi, but still. I actually can't imagine getting mugged in Johannesburg - it's just too chaotic and insane to allow for that to happen. Then again, I'm not usually walking around downtown at that time, when the shops have all closed. I don't know, it felt annoyingly ironic anyway.

It was actually a good thing that it happened on my way back from Khayelitsha, because I had prepared myself to be mugged there, so I didn't have much cash and I wasn't carrying my bag or my camera. Again, the irony.

My mug-free and crime-free streak ended at 144 days.

Give me Jo'burg's filthy, angry streets over Cape Town's ritzy cafes and narcissistic beaches any day of the week.

A visit to Home Affairs

So I went to Home Affairs in downtown Jo'burg today to straighten out my visa situation (which looks like it'll be OK) and it was surprisingly painless. I don't know if I jumped the queue or something, but I just walked up to one of the windows without waiting at all and the lady helped me out.

Anyway, what was more interesting about the field trip was what I saw taped to the wall behind the glass of the window of the lady that was helping me. As she took my passport and disappeared to do some inspecting, I was left at the counter to wait and I read the response to a request for asylum from a woman from the Democratic Republic of Congo, which was for some unknown reason taped to the wall just on the other side of the glass. It went like this:

"... On 2005/06/28 you lodged your applications [sic] for asylum. Your application has been rejected as unfounded.

YOUR CLAIM:
You claim that you left your country because of war."

It then cited the relevant policies that defined how one could gain asylum.

I wonder what happened to this woman. What happens if war "officially" stops but the ground-level reality is much different? What happens if you want to leave before fighting starts again? I'd like to think that someone from Home Affairs went out to find this woman, chased her down, caught up to her and said, while gasping, "Shit, geez, we're really sorry, you can come in now. We had know idea that you meant war was about to happen. Our bad, really. Hah, you know you should buy a lottery ticket or something, hey? OK, well, now come have some soup."

I'm pretty sure that didn't happen

And I wonder why this was posted in the Home Affairs office for employees. Is it to remind them that sometimes they have to be ruthless, and that they should be prepared for this? Or could it be to say that sometimes they make mistakes?

Anyway, I thought it interesting enough to jot down on my little pad.

Go here for some basic DRC updates.

And here for a Times article sent my way by Agatha a little while back. Disclaimer: This is not a pleasant read.

Free Falling and SA traveling update

Bungee at Tsitsikamma
Originally uploaded by BK 14

So this is me bungee jumping at Bloukrans Bungy, just outside Tsitsikamma National Park in the Eastern Cape. Apparently, it's the highest commercial bungee jump in the world, and they had the certificate from Guinness to prove it. I have to admit, I'm not really much of an adrenalin junkie, but I was staying at a backpackers that was literally a 30-second walk from the jump site, so it seemed silly not to do it - I mean, it's the world's highest. It was pretty wild - the first fall only lasts about five seconds, but in those five seconds you're not really conscious of the bungee cord (they only attach it at your feet so your upper body is surprisingly unencumbered), so it's pretty exhilarating. It was completely painless and totally smooth - when I reached the end of my line, it gently bounced me back up, so I got another couple falls (at about 80% and 40% of the original height, respectively) from my original jump. If you're ever in the western part of the Eastern Cape, I highly recommend it.

So if you click on the photo here you'll get to my Flickr account where I've posted photos from my entire hardly-working trip in SA. The photos have descriptive captions, but I'll give a quick rundown of the trip here anyway.

So I guess it kind of started on the first of October, when I went to Mafikeng in the North-West province with Stephanie. She called me that day and asked me if I wanted to tag along as she covered a story there. I can't tell you what she was covering, because then I'd have to kill me, but I ended up staying a night in Mafikeng and having a pretty amazing time the next day. Stephanie has a way of providing surreal experiences for me that go way beyond anything I'd be able to have access to on my own or through any internship.

Although I can't tell you anything about why we were in Mafikeng, I can tell you about our hilarious drive to the flat, somewhat-Saskatchewan-like North-West province. So we leave from Stephanie's place around 6:30 on Monday night and the hotel has told her that it should take about two hours to get there. Not a chance in France; it took us a solid four and a half hours. But I was happy with the long ride because it was basically like storytime for me as I peppered Stephanie with questions the entire way and just made sure she always had a steady supply of M&Ms in hand.

(For my non-journo-inclined friends reading this, driving to Mafikeng with Stephanie Nolen to cover a story is basically the equivalent of going on a road trip with Joe Thornton - and every once in a while he lets you tape his stick.)

It was a beautiful nighttime drive because there was a brilliant electrical storm and North-West seems to be entirely flat, so the views were spectacular. "This country knows how to do thunder storms, hey?" Stephanie said, as wide, silver bolts cracked across the sky in the distance. But the highlight of the drive came about half-way to Mafikeng when the South African photographer, who was driving her bakkie up ahead of us and leading the way, flashed her hazards at us a few times. Just as Stephanie and I were trying to figure out what she was trying to tell us, a large boulder-looking object became illuminated by the headlights and Stephanie had to expertly swerve out of the way and then get back into the lane. I was left looking stunned by how she avoided the object so quick and smooth; it was surgical. After we were back safely in the lane, she turns to me and says, "That's from all those years in the West Bank." Fucking Hollywood. See what I mean about surreal? We also witnessed an attempted smash and grab at a set of lights on the highway that was broken up by the cops but almost had the culprits getting smashed themselves, by oncoming traffic, which included our photographer.

So I got to tag along on that great field trip. I mostly just carried stuff and tried not to get in the way - oh, and like I said, always ensured there was a healthy supply of M&Ms.

So then the next day I took my first long-distance combi ride from Mafikeng to Jo'burg, which took about five hours. As a skinny white guy at a taxi rank in Mafikeng, I was met with a few stares, but the ride was fine and I got home all in one piece. There were a few hairy moments when I arrived at the downtown Jo'burg rank at dark, which is not really somewhere you want to hang out very long. But I found a metre-cab soon enough and made my way safely home.

So then the hardly-working tour officially started the next day with a family drive to the Drakensberg, near Lesotho. Kylie and I were supposed to go to Durban to be present as the project's current fellows (but not Zackie Achmat) presented some of the stuff they'd been working on, and Kylie's partner, Alastair, and their two-year-old daughter, Sophie, joined us so they could have a little vacation. And then there was me. But I had a great time hanging out with them; Alastair may be one of the most laid-back guys I've ever met and Sophie was wonderful. So we spent a night in beautiful North Drakensberg (at the same place I stayed at before) to break up the 8-hour drive to Durban, which obviously made things easier on Sophie.

We arrived in Durban on Thursday and stayed until Sunday morning. I didn't do a whole lot in the city, but I swam in the ocean and ate Indian food (I highly recommend Amaravathi Palki, if you're ever in the area), which is all I really wanted to do in Durban anyway. And I got to play with Sophie a lot, which was good fun.

We spent a good part of that Friday at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, where the fellows were presenting. It's probably the greenest campus I've ever seen (I guess I haven't seen too many campuses, though). They had this outdoor student lounge area and you actually couldn't see the students through all the palm and jacaranda trees. There were also monkeys walking around like squirrels, which is definitely not the case at Wits. They were just walking among the students, and nobody was giving them any notice. Kylie's friend who goes to UKZN told us that they get to be a pretty big nuisance - monkeying around and whatnot, I suppose. I didn't get to explore around too much, but if you look at my photos you'll also see an ominous building which seemed to be the centrepiece of campus and looked like it came straight out of that silent movie from first-year film, Metropolis.

So that was Durban. I flew to Port Elizabeth that Sunday morning.

Sleepy Port Elizabeth, South Africa's windy city, was absolutely quiet on the Sunday afternoon I arrived. It's a fairly large city, certainly one of the largest in the Eastern Cape (East London and Grahamstown might be bigger), but compared to Jo'burg, it might as well have been Gravenhurst or Stratford. I did some grocery shopping, wrote a blog for journaids.org and that was about it.

After the night in PE, I caught a bus to Tsitsikamma National Park, where I stayed for a couple of nights. In addition to jumping off a bridge, I did a five-hour hike through pouring rain at the Park, and other than that, mostly just hung out in the cabin-like hostel reading and watching the rain. It was weird: The backpackers I stayed at was completely empty. There was two dorm rooms, each with 7 bunks, and I was the only one. There was a Dutch couple who stayed one night in one of the private rooms, but other than them, there was no one, which added to the isolated and untouched feeling of the whole place. The Eastern Cape actually reminded me a lot of Canada; it's all forest and mountains. It looks like it could just as easily be British Columbia or Newfoundland. It's too bad b'y didn't get to see it before she left, 'cause parts of it look a lot like her photos of the Cabot Trail. I enjoyed the peace and solitude of the place, though, and plowed my way through a couple of books and a good chunk of Long Walk to Freedom, which I've been reading on the backburner, basically since I arrived here.

I headed back to PE for a work day - I was supposed to interview a couple of people working in HIV/AIDS in the area. But they canceled. So I ended up just writing another blog for the website.

And then I was off to Cape Town for a week.

I arrived on Friday afternoon and didn't do too much other than shop for groceries and settle into the backpackers. The next day I set out to do this kayak thing around the Cape Peninsula, but I underestimated how long it would take to get from Cape Town to Simon's Town, where the trip was taking off from, so I ended up just hanging out at the fish markets in Kalk Bay and walking along a few beaches on the Indian-Ocean side of the peninsula.

On Saturday afternoon I started to feel ill, which might have been sun stroke or might have been a bug of some kind. Anyway, I ended up not doing or eating very much on the weekend.

On Monday, I went on a tour of the Cape Peninsula to see Cape Point and get a glimpse of where the two oceans meet. I also saw some African penguins and did some cycling around the area.

The next day was a work day and I headed out to Khayelitsha, Cape Town's largest township, to interview people working at the Treatment Action Campaign and Medecins Sans Frontieirs. I traveled to the township by train, which was an interesting experience, because despite the convenience and economy of the train, I was the only white person I saw ever using it. And I actually ended up using it almost every day I was in Cape Town. This stuff drives me crazy about South Africa, because obviously there are tons of white people in Cape Town. I did hear that the trains are considered fairly dangerous, but I didn't have any trouble - whenever I had to ask anyone any questions, they were completely friendly. And even when I had to ride the rush hour train back to Khayelitsha at around 5 o'clock to meet with the director of MSF, and the carriage was packed to bursting, nobody gave me - or anyone else - a hard time. Weirdest moment in Khayelitsha: Standing on the stairs above the platform, waiting for the train in the shade like everyone else, I looked at the rows of shacks (there are parts of Khayelitsha, like Soweto, that have formal, middle-class-looking houses; but also like Soweto, there are rows of informal settlements) and noticed that on the side of one of the homes were the painted logos of Nike and Reebok, side by side. I can't believe that this was actually any kind of paid advertising, so the only other possibility I can think of is that the owner of the home painted it their him or herself as a kind of decoration - like putting up posters of athletes or rock stars. I could probably fill this whole blog up with similarly confusing globalization scenes like this, but this one really struck me. But I didn't bring my camera - I had been warned about high crime in Khayelitsha - so I don't have any shots of it. Anyway, it was nice to visit Khayelitsha without really feeling like a tourist.

The next day I hiked up Table Mountain with some German guys I met at the hostel. One of them - Dimitri - had just spent a year at U of T as part of some exchange thing and was now interning in East London at Daimler-Chrysler. So we had a good time talking about Toronto - and the Dance Cave, mostly.

Obviously I wanted to visit Robben Island while I was in Cape Town, but I heard that it was almost impossible to reserve a place on the ferry as an individual (apparently people book well in advance - I had no idea), but if you go as part of a township tour, they have reserved places so you'll be able to get on.

Despite finding the idea of traipsing around a South African township with a bunch of other camera-toting, sun-hat wearing, fanny-pack-strapped tourists almost intolerably uncomfortable, I reluctantly signed up for a township tour that seemed the most respectful and respectable, mainly so I could get to Robben Island. I found one that only used guides from the area and founded a trust fund from the money from their tours that offers loans to help people in the townships start their own businesses.

And then, just after the tour started, they told us the ferry to the island was canceled due to severe winds. Foiled.

Anyway, the tour wasn't too bad. There were definitely some awkward moments; the whole poverty as tourism thing unsettles me, and especially after already spending a day in and around Khayelitsha, riding the trains and actually being with the people, it felt weird to distance myself again and set up that, you know, tourist barrier. A lot of times it felt like people's homes and neighbourhoods were made into a museum against their will, as rich tourists snapped away with their digital cameras. Our guide was great, especially in terms of imparting a lot of the history of the area, and we met a few of the local entrepreneurs who have been helped by the trust fund (a woman who operates a B&B, another who makes dresses and teaches dressmaking to other young women, a woman who runs a local feeding program for children, a few women who run a creche or pre-school and a man who makes impressive crafts from pop cans and other discarded materials), but I still didn't feel comfortable taking many photos. I let a few of the kids at the creche take some of themselves, but other than that, it just felt too uncomfortable. I think I've got a blog in me about my discomfort in taking photos, so stay tuned for that.

I ended the day at an amazing Cape Malay restaurant at the top of an insanely-steep hill in the Bo Kaap area of Cape Town, which is Cape Town's muslim area and is filled with beautiful multi-coloured houses and a few small mosques. The restaurant - the Noon Gun Tea Room and Restaurant - had a spectacular view of Table Mountain and the city below, and I was the only one in the place, so it felt pretty posh despite being relatively inexpensive. It was the only time I ate out in Cape Town, and I'd read it was a great place to sample traditional Cape Malay food, so I was pretty pumped and it definitely didn't disappoint. I had bobotie, which is basically a curried meatloaf. I think that's the best way to describe it. Anyway, it was amazing and the matriarchal family owner was hilarious. See my Flickr for a great shot of her.

And that was Cape Town. I flew back to Jo'burg the next morning around 6:30am, and the recently blossomed jacaranda trees were waiting for me. It feels like I've come home to a completely different neighbourhood as spring has, at last, really started to settle in. As I said, the jacarandas have all bloomed and now there's a purple canopy covering my entire street. And the grass is actually green! When I arrived and for the long, dry months afterward, the grass was all brown and dead, red soil was visible everywhere and though the trees weren't exactly bare in the Canadian sense, they weren't really alive either. I'll make sure to snap some shots of the jacarandas soon and post them.

So, yeah, I think that's a good update. As I said, you can click on the bungee photo to get linked to photos from the whole trip and more. (Unfortunately, you'll have to see me personally when I'm at home to look at any of the photos from Mafikeng.)

BK!