Friday night, I came home from our first week of classes in Rondebosch. After putting away my things, Siya invited me to go to Bishops to see a performance of one-act plays. When we got to Bishops, he showed me around his dormitory and a bit of the campus, including their cricket field and tennis courts. Bishops is divided into seven houses (yes, think Harry Potter) and each house plays against each other. The students also have to go to Chapel every morning, as well as wear uniforms (both during the school day and at functions where the school is being represented, such as the Bishops Play Festival). Siya told me that, for them, the uniform is a symbol of the school and it is a matter of pride to wear it. The uniform consists of formal slacks, shoes, buton-down shirt, tie, and jacket. Seriously, it felt like I was at UDJ on Albion’s campus.
The evening’s performances consisted of seven parts, three dances, three plays and supposedly a professional dance group (we didn’t stay for the last bit). Of interesting note was the all-girls schools that did plays, and how they played male roles. It felt like men were clumped into a very stereotypical portrayal that worked, but was a bit awkward to watch. The dances were very beautiful and meaningful, full of form and a storyline. Most of them were cross sections of ballet, jazz, African beat, and at times, hip-hop. (Je dois écrire, malheureusement, que la première pièce que j’ai vu était le pire de tout des pièces que je verrais.) I should also note that all of these acts (minus the last one) were all done by high school students. Bearing in mind this fact, as well as the religious affiliation attached to all of them, I was quite surprised that much of the content and context of the plays, especially, were allowed to be performed (as in, I would be surprised if I saw this in the States): drugs, alcohol, rape, murder, abortion, suicide, as well as language, culture, ethnicity, history. In reality, the plays did portray just that: the historical and contemporary realities that South Africans have had to (and still do) face on a constant basis. The strongest performance was titled “Voices,” one that spoke for those who did not have a voice. At one point, one girl said “I will speak the language that I prefer. It is my right.” Another play, performed by students from Bishop, titled, “Waiting for the Storm,” was extremely good. Spoken with the obvious air of Shakespearian influence, the writing was masterfully written and could perhaps be seen as controversial yet entirely real. It followed a Muslim father and his son and the stereotypes attached to them, particularly within the context of being in the airport. Also cool was the fact that a single student provided the music for the entirety of the play (rather than having a recording).
After we got back home from Bishops, Siya and I tried watching a movie on my laptop, but to no avail as we were tired after the play. So, I packed up my things to bring back to my room and then it happened… I dropped my laptop about five inches from the ground. The battery popped out and bent a piece of the computer that I believe transports information from the CPU to the main computer screen. Mon coeur a brisé pendant mon ordinateur est tombé.
On Saturday, we aimed to go to Green Market Square and Sea Point. We took a van from Langa to Cape Town and got dropped in the vicinity where our drop-offs were the week prior. Everything didn’t look too out of place, and the group of us trekked to the open-air market. There were many vendors… many persistent vendors. Naturally, I ended up spending more than intended. Yet, overall, I was happy with the experience. I made the second of my three must-purchase purchases: my djimbe. In retrospect, though, it’s a bit too small for me, and so I’m in the process of finding a place where I can trade it in and upgrade it for a bigger size. Oh yeah, and I also have to figure out how in the world I’m going to transport it back to the States, especially if I manage to find a bigger one. In the meantime, it fits not-so-snugly into my backpack.
From Green Market Square, we headed for Sea Point. Midway through the van drive over (when we were supposed to get off), we unknowingly bypassed our stop and instead moved in the direction of Camp’s Bay. Finally agreeing that we weren’t too sure where were (and were getting hungry by this point), we got out of the van and walked to what ended up being Clifton Beach no. 4. The water was beautiful and the beach small, yet it was densely packed. After an hour or so, we continued heading on in search of Camp’s Bay and, ten minutes later, made it to our destination. We had lunch at Kuaui (sp?) and I took a bit of a catnap on the beach. The water was extremely cold, yet only took about five minutes to adjust to (okay, perhaps it wasn’t “extremely” cold). We then made our way back to Langa by 17h.
Overall, it was a highly enjoyable day, and of the many things to enjoy, the sun and heat was the rarest and best. It certainly felt like summer.
Before we got to Langa, Tabisa invited me to go to her church. This weekend, I was able to go. Tabisa goes to the Methodist Church in Langa, and now that I had this chance in South Africa, was ready for the experience; this was my first visit to a Methodist Church. The church seemed to be a bit bigger than the one at St. Anthony’s, yet by the time the service started, it was just as packed. To end the thoughts to this entry, following are some extracts of the observations written in my mini-ISP journal:
"A little girl played the djimbe (as did an even younger boy) and I noticed the djimbe I originally bought a few days prior was about the same size; definitely time for an upgrade. I also noticed that, just as at St. Anthony‘s, music played a very important role during the service. Moreover, that front, central floor space was reserved for soloists, instrumentalists and the occasional dancers. Indeed, it seemed that the room got brighter as they continued to sing.
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