Cape Town - Week 6

The joys of sickness visited me this week, as I was given the distinct pleasure of celebrating my first illness in South Africa: A nightlife-induced cold – caused by a unique combination of late nights out on the town, and enough second hand smoke that would make the Marlboro Man step outside for a bit of fresh air. It was only a matter of time until one of three main bodily organs decided to call it quits, and teach me a lesson in “staying in every now and then.” While my liver remained strong, and I haven’t needed to utilize my brain since college, my lungs won the prize of a hiatus in health status. They no longer could deal with the multitude of smokers in Cape Town, smokers who go through a carton of cigarettes like a lion tears through a freshly killed zebra (mmm, tasty). Thus, my mornings have been comprised of nonstop coughing spasms. Good times!

With my cold in recovery, and a few 12-hour sleeps behind me, I was off on another shoot for the Cape Times. Finally embarking on my first non-food related photo shoot, I was invited out to Freedom Hill Township, to partake in a day of volunteering … for my non-paying, volunteer job. Alongside of about 30-40 other dedicated philanthropists, we assisted the township in the building of four new homes. I personally was assigned to one of the “from-scratch” houses, starting off with nothing more than a slab of concrete and some bricks. Following instructions from a local township native sporting a G-Unit t-shirt and possessing the demeanor of Tony Soprano, I assisted in creating the to-a-T definition of a brick & mortar house. No drywall. No plumbing. No electricity. Just walls. A door and a few windows too. But mainly walls. Walls of concrete, put together with as much care and precision as a … well … whatever analogy defines something that has no care or precision (I’ve been racking my brain for about 10 minutes now, and still can’t think of an object, so time to move on). Although the house we built was not pretty, it was a much-needed improvement upon the small kitchen-sized huts in which most of the townships residents currently resided. It is honestly quite sad to see how some of these people live, but everyone was very friendly and welcoming, and you would never guess by their attitudes how horrible their living conditions truly are…

After doing my good deed for the year, and checking off “volunteer in Africa,” from the to-do-before-i-die list, I decided to pursue my next ambition: Join a local sports club. With the list of never-before-played sports in front of me, I narrowed my options down to two: Rugby and cricket. And although the temptation to spend the next year in a cast (or body bag) was quite enticing, I decided that my overwhelming physical presence (all 130 pounds of pure brute strength) would not fair too well in a match of rugby. Thus, I decided to opt for cricket instead. A game somewhat similar to baseball, in that it involves bats and balls, I was confident that past experience in hand/eye coordination games would serve me well. Nope. With no gloves to field with, and a ball that actually bounces before you hit it, my cricket career lasted all of 45 minutes. My cause was not helped too much in that I had attempted to join the equivalent of a AA minor league baseball team, with zero years of cricket experience, no equipment, and only a basic knowledge of the game. The decision to retire my cricket career was made that much easier after not one person talked to me the entire practice, or offered to lend me any equipment. Thus, after participating in one drill which almost broke my wrist as I attempted to field a bouncing ball hit at about 50 MPH, I stood idly by, watching the team in batting practice. I felt like that kid who refuses to go into the pool, because he forgot his rubber pants, so just stands there awkwardly watching. That was me (for the most part). Thus, this upcoming week, I will be scouting recess at the local elementary schools in hopes of picking up the basics before I try to work my way up to teenage leagues.

Tis all for now. Next blog comes after the Rugby World Cup Finals, so it will either be the greatest weekend ever, or most depressing. Go Boks!

Onto this weeks lesson:

“Learn me something something about South Africa.”

This Week's Topic: What to write about when you haven’t put much thought into it, and it’s already the end of the day on Monday

Nothing. : ) Sorry, I'll try harder for next week

Onto the pics...

	One of the volunteers shoveling wet concrete -- an accurately measured mix created by the complex means of pouring out about 10 bags of dry concrete mix and letting the hose run on it til someone notices it's too watery, and thus, more dry concrete mix is needed
	A couple of the local youngsters from the Township -- notice the kid on the right is wearing a Vanilla Ice t-shirt. He was awesome
	The "completed" effort of my teams day of work. Not bad for only about 10 people
	Me with shovel in one hand, and Red Label in the other. A true sign of a hard days work come to a close
	The family who accepted one of the newly finished houses