Prada-aaaah

The best discovery EVER! Jimmy Choo, Pringle, Philosophy, Sun Goddess, etc. are at the V & A Waterfront mall in Capetown! Yes, I know it's very wrong for a Christian to be materialistic, and I shall never be able to afford strappy Choo sandals that turn toes blue, but oh, the joys of such toe mincers practically right in my very own backyard. I wonder if this is how the Dutch felt when they discovered Capetown; but then there was no Burberry then, so the Dutch were probably a bit more excited by things like clean water and acres of fruit trees. Those lovely Dutch people--with their lovely shoes. Hmmmm--clogs--could be summer's must have fashion item!

P.S. Actually, my favourite purchase of the day was a steaming HOT mug of soy cappacino from Gloria Jean's coffee shop. $1.50 US dollars to satisfy this milk-allergic poor American. Yes! And hiking around the mall was fab, as it was 'peeing it down' outside!

Alien in the Shed

While cleaning out the Adventure Centre storage room an alien was discovered. I have included a photo as proof of this invasion.

After scraping off layers of dust and random bits of wood, pipes, and old mattresses, the bad boy was hauled out to the drive and noises where heard inside--the aliens trying to phone home?

I also had a really good chance to use my fashion background and created the ultimate inner-tube ensamble perfect for sight-seeing, or glam it up with a pair of heels for those evening parties around camp. Contact me for a price quote if you want me to design an outfit for you...

Those Housemates

Ah, the joys of communal living. Last night members of the house stayed awake late; I figure they were ringing their best mates in Israel or Dubai or Hong Kong, hence the very late hour (s) on the phone. Which means this morning I banged fridge doors, cupboard doors, my mug, the kettle, nearly everything I came in contact with. I was like a one-person percussion symphony. My sleep deprived brain didn't even register all of this noise until I left the house for morning meeting; by then I figured all my housemates were awake anyway--lush water sounds from the shower proved this--so perhaps no apology is needed. I may just steal the phone and tuck it in my underwear drawer and claim those rascally baboons stole it, which is very possible as we're convinced they already own watches.

Speaking of baboons, they visited again yesterday. Paddy and Vyan chased them army stealth style. Let's hope the hippies bent on saving fragile baboon emotions don't realize how much we chase the hairy beasts!

Censor

I shall be much more careful about the political nature of my blogs due to the changing political climate here in South Africa. Hope this doesn't alarm any of my family who might now wonder why my wee political heart is turning to mediocre mush. It's called "deportation" and "prison".

Peeing it down

Peeing it down, as in "Hey mate, it's peeing it down out there" is a great phrase I learned in Scotland and describes the weather today. I'm so glad I went to the village library yesterday and collected a stack of books not less than a foot high as I shall now be reading it up on the living room sofa wrapped in my tartan duvet with the space-heater pumping out warmth. One soy-latte down the gullet already this morning--could explain my rather chipper outlook on this rainy day--and I foresee one or two more before the day is dark.

On very much the plus side, we still have electricity! Perhaps I should make pancakes, like the delicious ones Paddy cooked up for all of us yesterday. Ahhhh. Drizzling fresh orange juice over warm pancakes may be just the thing for this rainy afternoon. Or, I might just finish "Mr. Darcy's Diary", another product of the rainy Britian. So much to do, only one day off!

Digging

I am digging today. Yeah! There is an awesome breeze coming off the sea and the sun is shining and I am sweating (a sure sign that calories are burning) and all is well with the world. And, I get to make something cool--a fence. Actually, it'll be a pump-house for the pool and a fence to guard part of the lappa (firepit) area.

So far, I dug two, nearly three, holes, sawed through a few thick branches and used the loppers on other bits of vegetation. Also, Shaun and I wrestled a shrub out of the ground. The wrestling involved me pulling with all my might and shouting while nearly sitting on the ground.

Pickaxes, spades, and saws are involved. It does not get any better than this. Unless there was a staple gun, but that would be another post...

Down with the Man

Seems as though the ANC is changing presidents faster than I change heels; one minute your up, the next you're a discarded kitten-heel shoved under the bed to collect the dusts of your political sins. You have to feel bad for Mbeki; he probably thought all this hand shaking with Zim would cast him as a modern-day St. Peter. I guess the ANC wants another rock quite badly and Mbeki will be leaving soon.

Being American, my brain doesn't yet grasp the suddeness of it all. And, I ask questions like: Will the government collapse? Will there be riots in the streets? Most important--Will the airports be affected, thus altering my fly-out plans and leaving me stranded in an African country where I only speak English, have the wrong colour skin, and am AMERICAN for crying out loud?!! (Yes, the 9/11 terror propoganda team did a number on us Americans!!)

I'm sure the country will remain beautiful, the government a bit akward as suits African politics, and the people as freindly as ever.

The New Guy

Sooo. I may need to work on my cross-cultural communication. In fairness, my new housemate's first language is Xhosa and mine is English, he is a he, and we are from two very different countries. I'm sure he's tired of me looking quizzical and asking,"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that." I am quickly turning into a typical American--speaking louder and slower. Argh.

Whale Hunter

I went with the Easom clan into the great den of civilisation today (aka Fish Hoek); on the way back we stopped at the beach and viewed the whales. Yes, whales! Snakes of tourists' cars crawl along the beach drive, stopping, starting, scooting, with all of us craning our necks to see the great black whales emerege.

Never have I seen such long cameras, even at media events. You'd think the whales are celebrities!

Alas, the great baboon troop was also whale-watching at the beach, so I think I'll skip a jog down that way this afternoon. Perhaps some badminton tonight instead...

Spice

Thought I'd spice up the ol' blog and send some photos your way. This is Nathan meeting a seal. He even fed a seal on the pier later in the afternoon!

And this wean lives next door. We went to see the president (Mbeki) in Simons Town and hit the beach while he delivered a speech. She has a little sister that also came on the president/beach visit.

Stay tuned for more photos!

Geek

I may be a geek. Google's website optimizer is giving me thrilling goosebumps up and down my typing fingers. My brain dances with the choices--oh, the joy of other geeks assembled! Website optimizer. Come on, how can those two words not make you smile?!

Name Badge

I had a thought this morning as I stuck my name badge to my brown hoodie. What if we all wore more than just our names on our name badges? If your's said your name and words about you: angry, sad, joyful, shy. If my badge said more than my name, then we could chat; we would having more than enough information for a conversation.

Last night a guest was acting as some guests do. And I thought, surely this guest needs to come with a warning label, grumpy, must always be right, unhumble. If we all came with honest labels about ourselves would we be more kind and understanding--knowing our faults are in the open just like everyone else? Would we hide less and care more?

That was my thought this morning. It may make sense, or, due to the fact I'm still not fully awake, this utopian thought could just come across as pure drivel. My name badge could read 'Darla, some times rambles.'

$653 to Costa Rica

True, I thought Costa Rica is an island near Puerto Rico, which means I should be banned from even thinking of travelling there, but now I know it's an uber-enviromentally aware country in South America. And it sounds lovely... It'll only take me $653 USD to get there (not that I counted, of course) but at the rate my great job hunt is going, that means Costa Rica may see my fish-white face sometime in 2010.

Therefore, no more stalling. I have two years in which to remember my high school Spanish. Because if not Costa Rica, I hear Spain is very nice this time of year!! Ole!

Hunky Enrico?

Is my family posh? I mean, since when do my siblings just randomly take off for exotic countries like Costa Rica. I can barely spell !Hola! and they're going to be tangoing their way through streets of Spanish and mazes of hunky Latin men.

I refuse to be even a tad bit jealous--I bet my sisters don't even know how to Salsa. Hah. They shall be spun off the Costa Rican dance floor; I shall have to go perform an emergency rescue, aided by a handsome Latin hunk; and all of us, including Enrico, will return to the States tanned and swathed in cute white summer dresses that flatter our new-found Latin curves.

Must brush up on my Spanish...and Salsa...and chat up lines for Latin men...
So much to do!!!!

Slippery hunt

So, hunting for the perfect job is a bit like finding your Easter basket--you find everyone else's, but your's is nowhere to be seen. It's a bit like that with me and the late-great-job-hunt. The perfect job for me is out there, just beyond my gaze...

Perhaps I am to picky: warm weather, decent pay, wonderful people. (Sounds a bit like here, alas, the South African government won't let me stay here forever!) Thus continues the hunt.

Now, if only I knew what to do for vacation?!

Yelling (in my head) at the professor

Much, much yelling in my head! I left class with a headache that only instant coffee cured. All because American Christian dogma has reached South African shores and flourishes under the warm sun. Two years of British manners kept me from leaping to my feet, grabbing the nearest Bible, and thumping the man on his head as he paced in front of the class, the thumping thus possibly scewing the plaid shirt tucked neatly into his khaki trousers.

But no, I refrained, and may I earn an extra soy-latte in heaven for sitting on my hands and sucking through my teeth. I very much hope that my brothers are not off somewhere wearing plaid and impregnating barefoot women. Oy!

(That's what I was thinking in my head today...)

Seeing the President and Hydrophobia

I saw the back of President Mbeki's head! It's true. He came to wee Simons Town to see the navy and hung around for speeches and a parade. God bless South Africa's lack of security detail, as that slight laspe in personal safety meant that I got to be about one metre from the president of a whole country! Ah, my little political heart is beating rapidly...

And, it gets better. I went on a boat! Yes, a real live boat that took me out to sea. I saw the lounging seals of Seal Island as they basked and baked in the delicious sun. My hydrophobia stayed in full-swing through most of the sloshy journey, but years of spinning on ice have given me a super trained brain and I was able to focus on an object to ward off seasickness that attempted to pirate the food from my stomach.

Yes, the last week has been grand indeed! Tomorrow...A class at BI. Hmmm. But I'll let you know how that goes.