My Life is Plagued with Fire

As I returned home from a lovely night of sokkie last friday, or should I say early Saturday morning, I found myself having the following conversation with the friend who was dropping me off...

Me: Ummm What’s that large orange glow?
Friend: Fire.
M: That’s awfully close to my flat, isn’t it?
F: Yup.
M: Damn I was really looking forward to going to sleep
F: Yup.
M: I’m not going to be able to do that now, am I?
F: Nope.
M: oh kak

As she dropped me off I observed a group of students from the building next door shooting a stream of water from what can best be described as a garden hose onto the trash can and tree on fire in front of my building. Watching this measley amount of water evaporate before it even hit the fire were the cops and paramedics...the fire department no where to be seen. This went on for about 15 minutes and just as the garden hose was starting to melt from the heat, our heroes in red decided to pitch up and put the fire out in a good 30 seconds. Oh will the adventure never cease.

Then Saturday and Sunday we went to SonA's house to have a braai, make breakfast on a waterfall and attempt to play tennis and pseudo-jenga.

Last night was EB's last night in Stellenbosch, so we decided to be as lame as possible. We went to a local pub because there was free food. Then we proceded to half sleep on the couch while watching month old horse jumping for much too long until we got so fed up with it we just left and went to bed. In case you care, Eric Lamaze (the Canadian show jumper) came second! Woot woot!

The rest of this week was spent avoiding the planning of my trip to Namibia with EB and his two American friends. Despite our best efforts at not planning this trip, it has somehow worked out and we are leaving in (theoretically) an hour. I'll let you know how that all went when I get back!

Friday Night and the Lights are Low

The last two weeks of my life have been utterly consumed by ballroom dance. Last weekend we had “dance bootcamp”. This consisted of being trapped in a hall away from Stellenbosch with no form of escape due to the sketchiness of the neighbourhood, while being yelled at to “Stop and do 20 cha chas!” I exaggerate only slightly…

Then this weekend was intervarsity…yes, they have intervarsity for dance. Now, let’s not start up the argument of whether or not dancing is a sport. They have intervarsity for wine tasting too, so they’re obviously not that picky here…

“hmmm this Pinotage has a hint of black current”
“No it doesn’t! That’s red current! You fail!*”
“Ok, but this Chenin Blanc definitely has a hint of gasoline with just a touch of burnt rubber”
“Full points!”

But I digress… Intervarsity went very well. Stellenbosch came second overall and we won the spirit cup, which we’ve won every year since we bought it (except last year, but the University of Cape Town stole it, the jerks!). I personally wasn’t incredibly involved in this impressive second place, but my dance partner and I did better than I thought we would. This is not saying much as I thought we’d be kicked out after Round 1, but we made it to quarter finals, which, as my English co-worker so kindly pointed out, makes us mildly better than average :-)

I can’t believe that for all the clubs I joined and didn’t get involved in for the four years of my university career, it took traveling to the other side of the world for me to actually get involved. But I guess that IS what it takes. You have be all alone in a country, miles from home without your safe group of friends in order to *shock and horror* move out of your social circle.

The only problem with getting involved in a club on the other side of the world is that you eventually have to return to your original hemisphere. That’s kind of the stage I’m at now. Since intervarsity is over, everyone’s planning for next year’s intervarsity. They’re all picking partners for formation (where you all dance together as a group), but (although I would love to try it) I won’t be here (it doesn’t help that practice is on trivia night either) (ok, that’s enough parentheses for one sentence). I mean I would even consider joining the committee next year if I was going to be here. And joining the committee would involve commiting myself to doing regular voluntary work; that’s how much I enjoy being part of the dance society. But alas, that is life…

Time Management

Last week, my officemate (the South African one, not the Belgian one who is back in Belgium now) and I decided that we were going to language swap. She would teach me Afrikaans and, in return, I would teach her French. A much better swap for me as my French is rustier than my bike! Anyway, we had just taught each other the months of the year, so I decided that I should multitask and instead of just wasting time walking places, I would practice my Afrikaans while doing so. There I was, briskly walking to one of my many very important meetings and in what I thought was an ingenious form of time management, practicing my months. “Januarie, Februarie, Maart, April, Mai…” I had just reached Julie, when all of a sudden the man walking towards me shoots me a weird look and furtively crosses to the other side of the street, mid-block, almost getting hit by a surprised driver in the process. Some people just have no consideration for the safety of others! I’m sure wherever he was in a hurry to be could have waited until there was a safe place to cross...

Fair of Face

My dear friend, who I have been so thoughtfully refereing to as Prego for the last couple enteries...is no longer. This is not to say she has departed this life for a better one among the heavens. It is simply that calling her Prego is officially a scientific inaccuracy. The parasite that for so long resided within her loins has chosen to depart and consume air and nutrients of its own accord. Thus I would like to welcome a new little Monday's child to our midst.

Welkom, liefie!