Yesterday classes officially began. Our first topic was the Paeleo (paeleolithic) Diet, also known as the Caveman Diet. After an introduction, our teacher sent us to get info in the library in journals and on google. We then came back to debate and discuss the pros and cons of the diet and it's possible effects on chronic disease and the reality of changing over to this diet and maintaining it long term. Fascinating stuff!
Today we were learning about the food service industry. After an introduction to the history of FSI we were giving a list of things like urbanization, single-person households, economic recession, etc and asked, in small groups, how they affect growth in the FSI. Really interesting stuff to think about and discuss.
Then we moved from uni to a cooking college. We first had a lecture on the pros, cons and types of processed foods. Again the class was very interactive with lots of time for us to comment, ask questions and discuss. We learned information which should really be something everyone is taught like how milk is pasturised, what homogenization is, how freezing alters food, and other cool things. After that, we spent about an hour cooking, then sampled all the dishes and discussed the differences. Brilliant!
I'm so glad to learning stuff that I am really interested in. The classes are engaging and interactive, and for the most part very interesting. It's so much different to my first degree in Biology where over 100 of us would sit in a lecture hall yawning our way through a microbiology class and have no exchange with the teacher whatsoever.
So far so good :)
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
OVERWHELMED
I thought I would adapt quickly and easily to life in Cape Town, but that hasn't been the case. My first week here was completely overwhelming.
The reason I thought it would be an easy acclimatisation was that I'd visited here twice before. They also speak English here and I had given myself a few days to settle in before I had to start uni. Most of my previous moves - Thailand, Japan, Korea, Peru, involved going to a place that I'd never been, and that spoke a foreign language.
The difference with Cape Town is the danger. You hear SO MANY stories, and it is ranked as one of the top ten dangerous cities, so I'm trying to be street smart. But that is stressful and can be exhausting if you're thinking defensively all day every day. Also the people here are so varied. Unlike the other countries were I've lived and people all look similar, here you have the blacks, the "English", he Afrikaans, the Zulu, the coloureds, the Cape-coloureds, and so on. And each group seems to have stereotypes associated with them.
There is very obvious segregation in some of areas I've seen. Like in Wynberg were Dani stays, we walked on the main road to get some dinner. It was full of people, none white, and some who passed comment as we walked by. We were the only whites in the fast food restaurant we visited and it didn't feel too safe walking around the train station area. Wynberg is only a small area (suburb) of Cape Town, not a big place at all.
After eating we fancied a beer, but couldn't find a bar anywhere in that part of town. So we crossed a park to a street running parallel to Main Road and were instantly transported into another world of nice bars and middle-aged white people. It was very bizarre, and maybe it's bad or racist to say that I felt much safer there, but I did.
I'm sure I'll adapt and just need to find out where one should and should not go. But at the same time, I don't want to be confined to any boxes or stereotypes of where I should/can eat, visit, drink, etc. We'll see...
The reason I thought it would be an easy acclimatisation was that I'd visited here twice before. They also speak English here and I had given myself a few days to settle in before I had to start uni. Most of my previous moves - Thailand, Japan, Korea, Peru, involved going to a place that I'd never been, and that spoke a foreign language.
The difference with Cape Town is the danger. You hear SO MANY stories, and it is ranked as one of the top ten dangerous cities, so I'm trying to be street smart. But that is stressful and can be exhausting if you're thinking defensively all day every day. Also the people here are so varied. Unlike the other countries were I've lived and people all look similar, here you have the blacks, the "English", he Afrikaans, the Zulu, the coloureds, the Cape-coloureds, and so on. And each group seems to have stereotypes associated with them.
There is very obvious segregation in some of areas I've seen. Like in Wynberg were Dani stays, we walked on the main road to get some dinner. It was full of people, none white, and some who passed comment as we walked by. We were the only whites in the fast food restaurant we visited and it didn't feel too safe walking around the train station area. Wynberg is only a small area (suburb) of Cape Town, not a big place at all.
After eating we fancied a beer, but couldn't find a bar anywhere in that part of town. So we crossed a park to a street running parallel to Main Road and were instantly transported into another world of nice bars and middle-aged white people. It was very bizarre, and maybe it's bad or racist to say that I felt much safer there, but I did.
I'm sure I'll adapt and just need to find out where one should and should not go. But at the same time, I don't want to be confined to any boxes or stereotypes of where I should/can eat, visit, drink, etc. We'll see...
Sunday, January 26, 2014
TOO MANY GUNS
On my first weekend here my friend German Dani drove to my place to pick me up. Being German she arrived early. I invited her in for a cup of coffee and to see my new home. As I was in the kitchen making a cupa all of a sudden the whole house burst into a scene from a World War 3 film. Sirens basted through the house from every conceivable angle and I rushed outside to see what was going on. Dani had saw the trampoline in the garden and had made a beeline for it. I hadn't warned her about the house security, nor did I realize it was on on a Saturday morning.
The house where I'm staying has quite a big garden and in the past they have been robbed as people crossed into the property from other gardens. So now there are two lasers that run across the garden. If someone walks through them....no, they don't get chopped in half, but it does trigger the alarm and sends a message to the Armed Response Unit.
Once I realized what had happened I found the information the land lady had left me about how to switch off the system. I couldn't figure it out though and the maid who was nonchalantly ironing in the kitchen as if nothing was wrong, didn't know either. So I called the landlady who explained and I managed to shut it off.
My heart was pumping and adrenaline flowing. I checked Dani was ok and told her not to worry about it, I should've warned her. Then I went back to the house to apologise to the maid for all the noise, not that she seemed to even notice. As I walked into the kitchen, the maid lifted one hand from her ironing, pointed to the garden, shifted her eyes sideways to the garden, then went straight back to her ironing.
At first glance I thought the man standing looking at me was the gardener. But then I realized he most certainly was not. I put my hands up and said, "it's ok, I have a password". The man in the garden didn't move. He just stood there looking at me, his hand near his waist as if ready to pull out his gun. This guy was a member of an Armed Response Unit, one of many security companies that South Africans employ to protect their property. Fully donned in a flak jacket, helmet and gun, he didn't look like someone to be messed with.
Once I had explained the situation - I've just moved in, I'm an idiot, etc, he agreed not to shoot me and we had a good laugh about it. Then I introduced him to Dani, the real culprit, and we laughed a bit more. The man with the gun asked me to let him out (there's an electronic gate at the front of the house. I asked how he'd gotten in to which he replied "jumped the wall", and true enough, outside the tall gate and wall was a little ladder he'd used to get up and over. I should've asked what he does when the house has electric security fencing, which so many of my neighbours do.
Once our heart rates had lowered, Dani and I set off to find a nice beach to relax on. The Sat Nav system took us on a long, meandering drive past a massive informal settlement (ghetto). And I mean massive. I've never seen something so big in all my travels. It was a bit daunting actually.
A couple of miles after the ghetto there was a sign for a beach. Dani wanted to go there. I thought it mightn't be so safe since we were so close to so much poverty, but I bit my tongue. Since Dani and I arrived, all we had heard from people was danger this and danger that. And I'd done my fair share of trying to warn Dani of the dangers here, but she was obviously sick of hearing it and felt that everyone was being overprotective (it's her first time in Africa). And I felt like a nagging old man chomping on deaf ears, so we drove into the beach, parked and went to explore.
The setting was spectacular. A massive expanse of untouched beach, surrounded by mountains and rough waters with only half a dozen fishermen staggered out along the shore. We walked along the beach smiling at the fisherman. The first two just ignored us. Dani saw a fish on the sand and went over to check it out. "I think it's a shark", I said, but Dani, knowing better said "It's just a cat fish" and started to pet it.
The third fisherman returned my smile and I approached him to small talk. He clarrified that the fish Dani was currently petting was in fact a shark, a young Pajama Shark and harmless enough, but still... petting sharks? Come on, Dani.
Fisherman number three and I chatted for a few minutes about fish and Ireland and then he suddenly said, "You seem like a nice guy, so I'm going to warn you. You're on the most dangerous beach there is." He said, "The Africans come over the hill and smash your car and take everything." "Really", I asked him to which he said "Yeah, we're all armed". On seeing the shock on my face he pointed to the waistline of his jacket and told me they all carry guns in case the "Africans" from the township come. By the way, all the fishermen I saw were "Cape Coloured", which means they aren't black African originally, but have a different origin and culture (I believe).
So I thanked him, grabbed Dani, and made our way back to the car before we got shot, robbed or bitten by a Pajama Shark.
A fairly interesting Saturday morning and probably good lessons to learn nice and early in my time here.
The house where I'm staying has quite a big garden and in the past they have been robbed as people crossed into the property from other gardens. So now there are two lasers that run across the garden. If someone walks through them....no, they don't get chopped in half, but it does trigger the alarm and sends a message to the Armed Response Unit.
Once I realized what had happened I found the information the land lady had left me about how to switch off the system. I couldn't figure it out though and the maid who was nonchalantly ironing in the kitchen as if nothing was wrong, didn't know either. So I called the landlady who explained and I managed to shut it off.
My heart was pumping and adrenaline flowing. I checked Dani was ok and told her not to worry about it, I should've warned her. Then I went back to the house to apologise to the maid for all the noise, not that she seemed to even notice. As I walked into the kitchen, the maid lifted one hand from her ironing, pointed to the garden, shifted her eyes sideways to the garden, then went straight back to her ironing.
At first glance I thought the man standing looking at me was the gardener. But then I realized he most certainly was not. I put my hands up and said, "it's ok, I have a password". The man in the garden didn't move. He just stood there looking at me, his hand near his waist as if ready to pull out his gun. This guy was a member of an Armed Response Unit, one of many security companies that South Africans employ to protect their property. Fully donned in a flak jacket, helmet and gun, he didn't look like someone to be messed with.
Once I had explained the situation - I've just moved in, I'm an idiot, etc, he agreed not to shoot me and we had a good laugh about it. Then I introduced him to Dani, the real culprit, and we laughed a bit more. The man with the gun asked me to let him out (there's an electronic gate at the front of the house. I asked how he'd gotten in to which he replied "jumped the wall", and true enough, outside the tall gate and wall was a little ladder he'd used to get up and over. I should've asked what he does when the house has electric security fencing, which so many of my neighbours do.
Once our heart rates had lowered, Dani and I set off to find a nice beach to relax on. The Sat Nav system took us on a long, meandering drive past a massive informal settlement (ghetto). And I mean massive. I've never seen something so big in all my travels. It was a bit daunting actually.
A couple of miles after the ghetto there was a sign for a beach. Dani wanted to go there. I thought it mightn't be so safe since we were so close to so much poverty, but I bit my tongue. Since Dani and I arrived, all we had heard from people was danger this and danger that. And I'd done my fair share of trying to warn Dani of the dangers here, but she was obviously sick of hearing it and felt that everyone was being overprotective (it's her first time in Africa). And I felt like a nagging old man chomping on deaf ears, so we drove into the beach, parked and went to explore.
The setting was spectacular. A massive expanse of untouched beach, surrounded by mountains and rough waters with only half a dozen fishermen staggered out along the shore. We walked along the beach smiling at the fisherman. The first two just ignored us. Dani saw a fish on the sand and went over to check it out. "I think it's a shark", I said, but Dani, knowing better said "It's just a cat fish" and started to pet it.
The third fisherman returned my smile and I approached him to small talk. He clarrified that the fish Dani was currently petting was in fact a shark, a young Pajama Shark and harmless enough, but still... petting sharks? Come on, Dani.
Fisherman number three and I chatted for a few minutes about fish and Ireland and then he suddenly said, "You seem like a nice guy, so I'm going to warn you. You're on the most dangerous beach there is." He said, "The Africans come over the hill and smash your car and take everything." "Really", I asked him to which he said "Yeah, we're all armed". On seeing the shock on my face he pointed to the waistline of his jacket and told me they all carry guns in case the "Africans" from the township come. By the way, all the fishermen I saw were "Cape Coloured", which means they aren't black African originally, but have a different origin and culture (I believe).
So I thanked him, grabbed Dani, and made our way back to the car before we got shot, robbed or bitten by a Pajama Shark.
A fairly interesting Saturday morning and probably good lessons to learn nice and early in my time here.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
NEXT CHAPTER: POST GRAD IN CAPE TOWN
The next chapter of my life has begun and I find myself in Cape Town, South Africa attending university. A year or two ago I couldn't have imagined that this is what I would be doing right now, but here I am....
I'm attending the University of Cape Town (UCT) as a post graduate student. The course I'm studying is a two-year intensive BSc (HONS) in Nutrition and Dietetics. I arrived here just over a week ago and have been though orientation and classes will officially begin on Monday.
The first year will be all classroom and kitchen learning, lots of presentations, physiology, food science and also community related studies. And in the second year it will be placements and research projects. I've heard this course is insanely intense and competitive. They only accept 16 students per year. The reason it's so competitive is because UCT has a great reputation and this is the only place you can undertake such a course in two years as opposed to four.
I have a lot of fears about being here; safety (it's a dangerous city), finances (I'm funding myself) and, mostly, workload. Four of last year's sixteen students dropped out in the first year. And I am the oldest (by almost ten years) in my class, so I'm sure I'm very rusty on studying and all that. But despite all of the above, I'm feeling positive and want to give it a good crack. The teachers all seem really lovely and supportive, and of course the course is fascinating and genuinely interesting to me. I think it will be a great field to work in where I can really help people as well as experience a varied working life and continuous learning. Wish me luck!
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