Sunday February 20th, 2011

Woke up that morning to have a nice breakfast outside on the pier.  I am so sick of breakfast food on this ship and can’t handle any more eggs, potatoes and French toast, so I paid an extra R10 so they could fix me a bacon and guac cheeseburger.  It was amazing.  Our plans for the day were to head to Mzoli’s which was a meat market in a township which threw a big Sunday bash every week.  We grabbed a cab with a guy name Erufann who ended up being our driver on a few more occasions that week.  Great guy who knew a ton about Cape Town.  Sometimes when you are driving in countries away from home, you can actually forget where you are.  For example on the way to the township, we were driving down the highway and Erufaan pointed out zebra and impala on a hillside right next to the highway.  And the day before, on the way home from shark diving, our cab driver pointed out a few baboons just walking on the shoulder of the road.  It is funny to see animals like this around everywhere, especially when you are so not used to it.  He was able to show us a few different townships on the way to Mzoli’s and what they were known for.  Oh and a township is the word in S.A. referring to the ghetto and the shacks in which the poorest of the poor live.  Go watch District 9.  I always saw that movie and expected that where the aliens lived is dramatized but Erufaan told us that it was actually filmed in one of the townships of Cape Town.  The tiny 9’x9’ sheet metal huts you see in that movie are exactly what the people live in.  We were told that up to 5 people live in these tiny huts together.  We were going to a township called Guguletu which had this Mzoli’s in it.  Erufaan informed us to not wander too far away from where everyone was because just like in Brazil, the townships can be very dangerous and people are killed every day.  When we arrived, I was shocked to see a few thousand people in attendance at it.  There was a huge line coming right out the door and down the street of the Mzoli’s restaurant where we get our meat.  Being American, I decided to cut it because I heard it takes about an hour to wait in.  I was only a few feet outside the door which cut off roughly 45 minutes.  We gathered up R250 so I could just order food for everybody.  I could not believe what I saw when I stepped in the door.  It was a tiny room with a glass case of more meat cuts than I had ever seen.  I stepped up, gave the woman the R250 and told her I wanted however much I could get for that amount.  She gave me steak, chicken thighs and legs, pork chops, some different cut of pork, lamb, lamb ribs, sausage and some other cuts I didn’t even know what they were.  I could not believe how much meat you get for such a little price.  They gave it all to me stacked up in a metal tray with marinade and seasonings and guided me to the back.  Now what happened here was like nothing you would ever see in America.  I stepped down the hallway and entered a room with about 50 people crammed together and a serving area with grills lining the walls.  I made my way through and had a guy pass my meat up to the front.  Now it was a waiting game of listening to my number.  We went back outside because we were told it takes about an hour after you even give them the meat.  After a few drinks about an hour later we went to check back on the meat and found it had not been put on the grill yet.  I asked another guy who looked like a local how long it usually takes and he says there is a trick to getting it done quicker…you just have to bribe the cooks.  First of all this was the most flamboyant person I have ever talked to.  It was really funny because he walked around like he owned the place saying hello and waving at everybody.  I gave him R20 and asked if he would go bribe the cook for me.  I figured that even if he takes my money and does nothing, it was only R20 so it was worth a good story.  I got the greatest video of him walking back yelling “let the lady through!” to get through the crowd, and in the vid you can clearly see him put the money in the cooks apron.  Soon enough, all of our food came out before the other SAS people who ordered before us.  The gay guy demanded a glass of wine which I gladly bought him for getting our food quicker.  Our tray of food once it was cooked was one of the sexiest things I have ever seen in my life.  One tray overflowing with some of the best meat you can imagine.  It was a meat lover’s dream… No potatoes, no veggies, no fruit, no pasta, no sides at all.  Simply meat.  Hell we did not even get a fork and knife or plates.  We brought that tray out to 7 semi drunk kids who had not eaten all day.  And we all just tore into it with our hands.  The funny thing is that there was too much meat for us to even finish.  And all of us had a little trouble stopping eating because it was so delicious.  Full process even with cutting the line and bribing the cook was an hour and 50 minutes.  It is aggravating to think that they do this every single Sunday and do not have a more efficient method by now of getting people their food, but then you have to remember, as I did have many times on this trip, that this is not America and business is run a little bit differently.  In the USA people would have never settled for service but here, it did not seem to be a problem.  They are so used to it being so slow and it is not a problem for them because they have never known what really fast business is actually like.  After eating, Erufaan picked us up and we went back to the ship.
While Drew, Grace and the girls went back to the ship, Matt and I took a cab to long street where there was an open air market.  I told the cab driver that it was closed and he insisted that it was open.  Of course he got our money and drove off and it was closed when we got there.  Instead we went in some restaurant and sat on the balcony where we ordered a bottle of wine.  True bromance.  Bottle of wine. Balcony overlooking DT Cape Town.  A little bit of singing.  It was a good time. 
We returned back to the ship where we then went out to the bars on Camps Bay.  This place was shocking how much it reminded me of a mini South Beach, Miami.  Really nice bars with a huge beach with palm trees right across the street.  St Eyves was the name of the place we went to.  It was soo sweet with a ton of Semester at Sea students there.  The best part of that night though was Drew bought a puppy.  Yep.  He legitimacy called me out of the bar and had a puppy in his arms.  Apparently some homeless man was walking around with the puppy asking for money for his family who was sitting across the street.  Drew told him he would only give him money if he could have the mans puppy.  R300 rand later Drew had a new pup.  No idea what he was planning on doing with it but it was only 4 weeks old and laid on his back in the palm of my hand.  Cutest thing ever.  The man can confidently say he has officially owned a dog in South Africa.  He named it Hilos  A few hours later it came time to go back to the ship, which presented a problem for Drew.  Absolutely no puppies on the ship.  He stuck it in Sarah’s shirt and made a go at it.  They made it through the lower level of security and even through the metal detector before the security guard freaked out when he saw the puppies head sticking out haha.  Almost…He ended up giving it to a cop who gave it some horrible name and was going to give it to his family.  My night kinda pretty much ended there.  Camps Bay was awesome is the moral of this terrible entry.