Monday, March 01, 2004
Stellenbosch
This past weekend I went on an excursion to Stellenbosch, one of South Africa's oldest cities, founded by the Dutch in the 1600's, famous for its wineries and known as a stronghold of Afrikaaner culture. It is home to the University of Stellenbosch, an Afrikaans university. Afrikaans is spoken by the descendants of the Dutch colonialists and was the language of the Nationalist Party that designed and implemented the Apartheid system. It is also spoken by many coloured communities. However, I have yet to encounter much interaction between the white Afrikaaner and coloured communities. Stellenbosch is quite white. As I jogged past white people and white buildings with red roofs and many a steeple, I was sure I was in Europe. The curving, tree-lined streets didn't bustle like Cape Town's, but the mountains were still in the picture.
My program C.I.E.E. treated about sixty of us fun-loving American kids to picnics by a pond at the serene Spier Farm, a tour of a wine cellar and instruction in wine tasting. I learned all about oak aromas and plum hues and reddish rims. I felt all grown up. After the vineyards, I headed into town with some friends. A man named Raoul picked us up near our hostel, the Stumble Inn, and drove us to his horse farm, which bordered national forests. Raoul is a paramedic, fireman and sheriff who does woodwork and resuscitates wounded owls. As we met the horses who would be our guides for the next two hours, Raoul asked if any of us were nervous about riding. I raised my hand halfway, as my only experience had been with My Little Ponies. He decided to acquaint me with Redroe, an auburn-haired horse with a collapsed trachea. Redroe also had a rather large bump on his head, which Raoul suspected was responsible for his impulsive behavior and lack of peripheral vision. But I shouldn't worry, he told me, as the horse twitched violently. Redroe and I were last in the lineup of six. Leese, a law student at U of Stellenbosch rode alongside me on a bike to ensure that Redroe didn't do anything too drastic. We had some good conversations about affirmative action and interracial dating and the value of the rand as that horse nearly killed us both. It was the early evening, it was misting outside, and I felt like I was in Lord of the Rings 1, 2, and/or 3, which incidentally I have never watched because I can't sit still for long periods of time. Redroe wheezed and cavorted rather close to the cliffs, but we survived and saw sparkling sylvan scenery in the meantime. I went for a bike ride the next morning through some botanical gardens and residential parts and I kind of missed my senile buddy Redroe.
This past weekend I went on an excursion to Stellenbosch, one of South Africa's oldest cities, founded by the Dutch in the 1600's, famous for its wineries and known as a stronghold of Afrikaaner culture. It is home to the University of Stellenbosch, an Afrikaans university. Afrikaans is spoken by the descendants of the Dutch colonialists and was the language of the Nationalist Party that designed and implemented the Apartheid system. It is also spoken by many coloured communities. However, I have yet to encounter much interaction between the white Afrikaaner and coloured communities. Stellenbosch is quite white. As I jogged past white people and white buildings with red roofs and many a steeple, I was sure I was in Europe. The curving, tree-lined streets didn't bustle like Cape Town's, but the mountains were still in the picture.
My program C.I.E.E. treated about sixty of us fun-loving American kids to picnics by a pond at the serene Spier Farm, a tour of a wine cellar and instruction in wine tasting. I learned all about oak aromas and plum hues and reddish rims. I felt all grown up. After the vineyards, I headed into town with some friends. A man named Raoul picked us up near our hostel, the Stumble Inn, and drove us to his horse farm, which bordered national forests. Raoul is a paramedic, fireman and sheriff who does woodwork and resuscitates wounded owls. As we met the horses who would be our guides for the next two hours, Raoul asked if any of us were nervous about riding. I raised my hand halfway, as my only experience had been with My Little Ponies. He decided to acquaint me with Redroe, an auburn-haired horse with a collapsed trachea. Redroe also had a rather large bump on his head, which Raoul suspected was responsible for his impulsive behavior and lack of peripheral vision. But I shouldn't worry, he told me, as the horse twitched violently. Redroe and I were last in the lineup of six. Leese, a law student at U of Stellenbosch rode alongside me on a bike to ensure that Redroe didn't do anything too drastic. We had some good conversations about affirmative action and interracial dating and the value of the rand as that horse nearly killed us both. It was the early evening, it was misting outside, and I felt like I was in Lord of the Rings 1, 2, and/or 3, which incidentally I have never watched because I can't sit still for long periods of time. Redroe wheezed and cavorted rather close to the cliffs, but we survived and saw sparkling sylvan scenery in the meantime. I went for a bike ride the next morning through some botanical gardens and residential parts and I kind of missed my senile buddy Redroe.
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