Cape Christmas

Cape Town, South Africa. By far my most favorite place in SA. And people who know me will think: Casey doesn't like cities, so why Cape Town? It's a big city, complete with the crowds and traffic that make me dislike the overcrowded (...overrated?) urban areas so much. Concrete and skyscrapers instead of dirt and trees. But while Cape Town is every bit a cosmopolitan area as major US cities, it's also the first place I've been in SA where racial tensions and emphasis on nationality seem subdued almost to the point of not mattering. There were a few scattered occasions where I was reminded that I was still in fact in a country very recently freed from the shameful apartheid era, but mostly I saw many faces and races in the same restaurants and hostels; sharing tables and travel plans. We (the three PCV's I traveled with plus me) chatted about the reasons for this oasis-like city -- long-standing diversity of the population being a favorite contender for top factor.

First on our journey from Lesotho we drove to the Garden Route and stayed two nights there in a town called Wilderness. Christmas day found us on the Indian Ocean, beers in hand after our secret santa gift exchange. From there we headed just north of Cape Town to Stellenbasch, famous for it's roaming vineyards and scenery. We wine tasted, played pool, sat pool-side and continued our sampling of restaurants including Cuban and Thai food. I saw a movie in a theater for the first time in a year and a half (007). Finally to Cape Town and penguins that earn their name, Jack-Ass Penguins, with loud, braying calls that truly resemble the donkey I wake up to every morning in Ramabanta. A trip to the waterfront, Greene Market Square, up Table Mountain, and out to Cape Point where two oceans merge along rocky cliffs. Then I ditched the beach for a few hours to rock climb a the Silvermine Nature Reserve - entirely worth dragging my gear all over southern SA. For New Year's Eve we hit a costume shop for our ensembles and roamed Long Street and it's clubs. Sushi, Mexican food, seafood, an Irish Pub and happy hour mojitos...

Doesn't really sound like I'm in Peace Corps at all, I know. Hence the rough transition back into Lesotho. At first I looked forward to it, especially once we hit the Free State Provence and all the negative things (mainly racism) I associate with it. And after a night in Maseru and a taxi trip back to Ramabanta my rude awakening seemed to be slowly improving. But I'm still adjusting to the men ("hey baby!") and begging from kids ("give me candy!"). Ramabanta is calm and I was more than ready for a break from house music blaring through our hostel and staying out 'till 3am but the transition is still tricky. Whenever I've been away from site for a week or more, I often get the question: "How was America?" People assume I shot home for a quick visit. That I can afford to. That there's a taxi to get there because there's a taxi to get anywhere they've ever been or imagined going. I'm working my way back into normalcy, though, one 8pm (...er, 730pm... 7pm...) bedtime at a time. After being back for only 2 days or so, kids have been slowly appearing on my porch, realizing the rumor is true that I've returned. I've reclaimed my garden from the forest of weeds that had taken over and harvested cucumbers and zucchini that grew to epic proportions in my absence. A library to work on, small projects and events to plan, time with my sisters home on break from school... it is good to be back. Even if I still stumble over calling it "home."

***all photos by Pam Rogers!***