Old.. very old.. Trip to Cape Point and Boulder's Beach

Me and Jayden at Cape Point on a rock on the beach.

I have been waiting for Jayden to give me some pictures of this trip for ages. This trip happened so long ago, that I really don’t remember it that well. We went to Cape Point and Boulder’s Beach. First we went to Cape Point; Jayden and I hiked all the way to the lighthouse there, then hiked all the way down to the beach. I had a sinus infection at the time, so it was hard to breath, but I was determined to see and do all that I could while there.

There were many baboons there, and the park rangers had sling shots and had to chase them away. The baboons were crafty too. In the past, they had gotten into the store there. Also, while we were there, one of them got in the car with this man who was on the phone. You couldn’t eat any food outside or anything, otherwise they’d come up and steal it. The waves at the beach were treacherous. One of our drivers told us a story about a guy on a family trip who had recently drowned there. Those were REAL waves. After Cape Point, we went to Boulder’s Beach and ate. After eating, we went to see penguins. Penguins are not as cute in person as they are on television. They stink, and they make an annoying sound. They weren’t really interesting, so I decided to swim instead.

Only a few people decided to swim, which amazed me, because I know more than a few people had their bathing suits on underneath their clothes. Jayden somehow talked me into jumping off this rock into the water. I been telling EVERYONE since I got here "I don't know how to swim. I just know how to stay alive in the water." The water was too cold to just slowly get into, so I had to jump. It was scary. I freaked out. The water was FREEZING. And, the waves were coming in; I wasn't used to waves while swimming. I'm used to swimming in a pool. Then, some sea weed wrapped around my leg. I freaked out! I started pushing Jayden's head under the water because the rock was too slippery to hold on to. I had to hold on to something. Hahaha.. sorry Jayden! I mean, I was really tripping.

This is at Boulder's Beach. Just look at me. I was so scared! That rock was cutting me up too!

I'm glad I did it though, because after that, I got in the water again and became more comfortable with the ocean.

Afterwards, we were supposed to stop at a winery, but I mean, once you've seen one winery, you've seen them all. So, some people decided to go on back home, including me. I also wasn't in the best of moods...

To make it even worse, my stuff was locked up in Maggie's room, who had decided she wanted to go to the winery. So, I had to wait, wet and cold, for her to get back. Then, when she got back, she couldn't find the keys to her room, so I had to wait even longer. It was a complete mess. It was just one of those extreme days that start off promising, but end horribly.

I had fun though, and I learned a lot about other people that day.

Us taking a "jumping on the beach" photo at Cape Point.

Black People

I already ranted about the White people (The Afrikaner) here, but I haven’t really discussed the Black people. Things aren’t all great.

Black students at the university that I meet are very nice to me. They like to talk about Black issues and chill. We just sit around and have a great time. However, I find that Black people who aren’t students ARE RUDE! They are completely rude to me. Anytime I go to like a store and there is a Black person working there, they are usually mean to me in some kind of way. They will not help me. They snap and/or whistle at me if I go the wrong way and/or they want to get my attention. I’m not a DOG! Usually, it’s just the women. Any Black woman knows when another Black woman is getting an attitude with her. It’s like a 6th sense… and I can tell when they are purposely being impolite. Also, if a white person is in the store, they will completely ignore me and help the White person. They stare, and sometimes I feel like they are following me through the store. Not everyone is like this, but more than often they are.

The men are usually trying to get with me. They whistle and make kissing noises. But, it’s the women that kind of hurt my feelings, because as Black women, we share the heaviest load, experiencing racism and sexism (and also classism). I wanted to bridge a gap, and instead, I discovered an even bigger gap.

My friend Brittney said it’s more about classism. When they look at me, they can tell I have money. When they hear me talk and hear that I am from America, they think I am rich. I’m unfamiliar to them. Because I am not poor… and I don’t speak the language, I’m not Black to them. These little girls at Kayamandi were talking about my friend Cassie, who is like darker than I am. The teacher told Cassie that they were trying to figure out whether Cassie was Black or White because she didn’t speak Xhosa. If you or I looked at Cassie, she’s obviously Black, but here being Black is more than just a skin tone.

I guess I can understand why they aren’t nice to me (I am different), but I don’t understand why they have to be rude to me. It just makes me think about us… “African-Americans” … We aren’t African. We aren’t American. Like.. the term “African-American” seems like it was meant to bridge a gap between the two worlds. In a sense.. we are a bridge between Africa and America. The term suggests that we are supposed to be both. But often, I feel like it’s a lonely word. We’re neither completely African nor completely American.

The other day, when I was waiting for my train in Johannesburg (a trip I will talk about in another post) back to Stellenbosch, this drunk, older, African guy gets off of the cheaper train speaking in Xhosa. He says something to this White Afrikaner lady sitting next to me, and she just ignores him. Then, he starts saying something to me as he’s walking away. I didn’t want to be rude, so I simply said, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Xhosa.” He was like, “You don’t speak Xhosa?!” Then, he started saying more things in Xhosa.. and then told me that I had forgotten my roots.

Now, this could have been a real Sankofa moment. In the past, I probably would have felt he was right. I still think that part of every Black American that comes to Africa, goes to reclaim some part of their identity. But, the truth is, that belittles Africa; Africa hasn’t just been put on pause for hundreds of years. It’s changed. The “authentic” Africa, an Africa untouched by the West like in the movie Roots, doesn’t really exist anymore. Anyone coming here looking for that will be a little disappointed.

And the whole idea of Africa being the roots of Black people in America. This is true, but the institution of slavery was so unique, especially in America. You have many generations of slaves that were forced to forget their customs in efforts to weaken their souls. Also, you just have the process of natural assimilation. I’m not saying that all Black people in America have forgotten their pasts; it’s just that… it’s really hard to remember with so many things working against you. Plus, now coming to South Africa, it seems that people here have forgotten their pasts! Now, if some people in Africa have forgotten their past, how can they expect people abroad to remember?

It’s this idea of roots. It bothers me. Yes, my roots are in Africa… but in America, WE ARE ALL MIXED UP. We got “roots” in Europe, Africa, America (Native American), Asia… Black Americans have all kinds of blood in us. That’s just the truth of the matter. As much as it seems that White people (and Black people) try to only give Black people African ancestry, we have all kinds of ancestry. So… it’s just like… If I were to really sit down and learn the language of all my roots, I’d be learning like 20 different languages. That’s ridiculous.

So, I basically didn’t pay that drunk guy any attention. And, a few other Black people waiting for the train said, “I wish he’d shut-up and go away,” which also reassured me to not take him seriously.

It’s just like… Black people here don’t see me as truly Black, and using their definition, they are right. I am a Black American. My roots are here in Africa and on other continents as well. I’ve lived a different life than most Black people here in South Africa; we share the same burdens that come along with our skin tone, but we’ve experienced them in different environments. Black people in America have taken our African roots, our other roots, and our environment and created a completely different culture. As much as I want to truly connect with the Black people here, that’s just the fact of the matter.

FOOD!

I just wanted to do something that generally spoke about food since my Aunt Robin asked me about it. The food here is just like the food in America, but a little different. Like, the ketchup is a little sweet. It tastes like there are cloves in it or something. I like it, but most of the people from America don’t. I already explained that bacon is ham here. The only cereal they have is corn flakes, frosted flakes, bran flakes, and other stuff I don’t usually eat. I do like the Special K cereal they have here; it has cranberries in it. It’s pretty tasty, but, I SWEAR, the box is half empty. There’s only enough cereal in the box for three little bowls of cereal. It makes me mad. There is also "Jungle Oats." The apple cinnamon flavor tastes just like the apple cinnamon Quaker Oatmeal at home.

Food spoils very quickly here, because it doesn’t have all the preservatives they put in our food in America. You can’t try to come back to something a week later; IT WILL BE SPOILED. I have starting freezing my milk and bread; at first, it seemed like the next day, my bread would taste a little stale. Now, after I use it, I immediately put it back in the freezer. It is a hassle to thaw, but it tastes fresh everyday.

My favorite South African chips (chips are called "air crisps" here) are “Nik Naks,” which are VERY cheap (they are 1Rand for a bag) and taste like crunchy Cheetos. I also like the Sweet Chilli Doritos. Sweet Chilli is as popular as Ranch dressing is in America. (Nope, they don’t have ranch dressing here.) You can get sweet chilli flavored EVERYTHING! Every snack has a “sweet chilli” flavored version, and the shelves of the grocery store are full of different brands of sweet chilli sauce.

There are certain items that seem like you can get them anywhere at any restaurant at any time of the day. Toast is served just about everywhere. Like, I can go anywhere and get some toast and jam. I’m so sick of toast. I don’t think I can even look at a toaster when I get home. You can get an omelet anywhere and at anytime. They are always pretty tasty, but they make you pay for each topping so it gets expensive if you’re like me and want all the vegetables and cheese in it. Some kind of icecream dessert is served at every restaurant. KFC, which has like 1 little cake dessert in America, has like 10 dessert options here. They have this thing called an Avalanche; it is icecream, chocolate syrup, and brownies. It is so good. I’ve only had one, because I don’t want to get addicted to them. You can get a hot chocolate, coffee, or tea at any restaurant at any time of the day. By the way, KFC only has mashed potatoes (which is called mash, and has too much gravy on it) and slaw. They don’t have any other sides. Also, they don’t have biscuits here. They call cookies “biscuits,” but they don’t have real biscuits like we have.) You know how sometimes you go to a restaurant, and their hot chocolate isn’t that good. NOT HERE. Every restaurants’ hot chocolate has been delicious. I also enjoy hot Rooibos tea. They bring the little kettle out right to you. It makes me feel classy.

I know this is stupid and weak of me, but I think that because I am here, once I find something I like, I get addicted to it. Like, I was eating Chocolate Choc Almond ice-cream EVERYDAY for like 3 weeks. The people who worked there automatically knew what I wanted. It was so good though. I stopped going though, because it was breaking my bank account, plus I was a little ashamed that the employees there always knew what I wanted. I also quit going because I found a new addiction.. Fizz Pops. They are suckers that have this little powder in the middle; the fizz is weak compared to the things we have in America (like Pop Rocks.. remember those?!), but the candy is tasty. I don’t even suck the sucker; I basically just bite it and crunch on it. I was going through like 5 Fizz Pops a day. They are cheap, but still, I have never eaten candy like that. I had to stop that. I think when I first got here, I was addicted to Coca Cola; I don’t care what anyone says, I can taste the difference. Their Coke is made with sugar and not corn syrup like America’s Coke. They are also in bottles. They are so delicious. It’s hard not to drink one.

Speaking of drinks, the only restaurant that has a soda fountain is McDonalds. At every other restaurant, if you order a drink, they literally bring the can out to you with a cup of ice. I’m like, “DANG, I COULD HAVE DONE THAT MYSELF!!” hahaha. And also.. THERE ARE NO FREE REFILLS HERE AT ALL! That’s the biggest difference. Once you drink up your drink, unless you want to pay for another one, you are out of luck! In addition, they don’t automatically bring out ice water like they do at some restaurants in America. You have to ask for it every time.

When I eat meat at restaurants, as much as they claim to have “100% Beef,” it’s something a little fake about it. I do NOT like Steers or Wimpy’s (do not eat at Wimpy’s forreal, it’s nasty.), fast food burger joints in South Africa. The meat seems too well grounded up or something and they always put some kind of sauce on it. Fries are called “chips” here and even though there are only a few places that have good chips, the chips that they have are the best. When they’re good, they’re great! When they’re bad, they are REALLY bad.

It’s kind of messed up though, because I can only eat at restaurants. It’s like if someone visited America; if they didn’t have an American to cook them food, they’d think American food was just Burger King, McDonalds, and restaurants like that. That’s what’s happened to me… I don’t have anyone to cook me traditional South African food, so I can only eat at restaurants.

There are a few things I will definitely miss here. Nuttikrust cookies are so delicious. I was addicted to them too at a point in time. They are like a mix between oatmeal cookies and graham crackers. They are delicious. Also, I am going to miss No Name peanut butter. I am THE ONLY PERSON that likes this. I don’t know why I like this off-brand peanut butter; I just do. It’s literally called “NO NAME.” hahaha. I will miss the Fizz Pops, Nik Naks, Sweet Chili Doritos, and Coke. I have fallen in love with grilled cheese sandwiches with a slice of tomato in it. I cannot wait to eat those in the comfort of my home. There are a few restaurants I will miss too. I will miss Java Café, which has delicious White Hot Chocolate and a weird but tasty Bacon, Banana, and Cheese sandwich. I will miss Binnenhof, which has ½-off pancakes (which are more like crapes) on Thursdays. The caramel on the dessert crape tastes like Lucky Charms and has bananas, icecream, and nuts on it. I also like the mushroom, chicken, and cheese crape. I will miss Debonairs Pizza, which has a great cheese pizza with sun dried tomatoes on it. (Cheese pizzas are called “margherita” pizzas in South Africa). I will miss Cubanas with it’s delicious drinks and “FI” chicken wings. I mean, that’s the only word to describe those wings… “FI.”

Hopefully, I will be back someday, and I can eat all of these things again!

Kogel Bay with Sneeko Nico! (October 25th)

My friend Nico (pronounced like nEEko, and we call him “Sneeko Nico” because he has a sneaky walk.. hahaha) invited me to go with him and a few friends to Kogel (Kogel is pronounced like “cool”) Bay for the weekend. Nico is an international student also studying here in Stellenbosch; he is from Germany. I really love him; he is my favorite international student. What I like about Nico is that he goes after any opportunity to learn about issues, especially in America. I’ve learned so much about Germany from him, and I hope that I have taught him things about America. He’s coming to America in January, so hopefully, I’ll get to see him!

Anyway, Nico and I don’t hang out with the same crowd. Most of the people I hang out with here are from America, while most of his friends are from Germany and other European countries. Because of this, I really didn’t plan on going. But, at the last minute, I said “Why not?” I have to seize every moment I can here in Africa. I cannot stick to one group and type of friend. So, I put my bathing suit, pants, and underwear in my purse and headed to the Hillbilly house to meet up with him. When I walked up, I could tell he was surprised that I had actually showed up. Standing with him were a few people I had seen, and talked to sparingly, but people I really didn’t know. I was also the only Black person, and that always makes me a little nervous. But, whatever… I sucked it up and went.

At this point in time, like most points in time, I was COMPLETELY BROKE, and the group was going to the grocery store to get snacks and food for the braii (which is a South African bar-b-q, but they don’t use SAUCE.. they just grill the meat. It’s okay, but I prefer good ol’ American bar-b-q). I didn’t want to have to rely on strangers for food and drink for the entire weekend, so I used my bank card, knowing that the money was probably not there. However, I told my Mama and David and both of them put a little money in my account so I didn’t overdraw. THANKS AGAIN!

After picking up some food, we headed to Kogel Bay. The ride to the beach was like an hour’s drive, but the drive was so scenic, that I really didn’t realize that it was kind of a long trip. The drive was right along the coast, so from the car, we could see the beautiful coastline and the mountains. Luckily, Lisa, who is also from Germany, decided that all the girl’s should ride together, so I got to ride with her and not in Nico’s crappy car. When we got to the location, we had to carry all of our things down this path and over these dangerous rocks to the beach. The beach was just as beautiful as Nico said it was. It was secluded and surrounded by mountains. It was the type of place that made you think, “Wow… What did I do to deserve to see this?”

After arriving, we laid on the beach and let the water rush over our feet a few times. I wasn’t really in the mood to get wet. Plus, the waves were dangerous looking. They were big and many of the experienced surfers on the trip had problems tackling them. Nico and this American guy named John got into an accident; the front of Nico’s board hit John in the face, slitting his eyelid and cutting his nose. There was blood rushing down his face. It was scary. The injury seemed minor though, but just to be safe, they took him to the hospital. I saw him a few days ago, and he looks fine now.

After talking and lounging about, we headed to another section of the beach, which was less windy because it was surrounded by caves. It was really nice. After the sunset, we set-up a fire and starting grilling our meats. Nico and Matthew pulled out their guitars and started singing around the campfire. It was really cool to just chill, sing, and watch the stars come out. There was a lighthouse across the bay too. It was the first time I had ever saw a lighthouse in action. We were around the fire, making s’mores (marshmallow, chocolate, between to tea cookies [they don’t have graham crackers in South Africa!]) and, all of a sudden, people starting screaming and jumping up from their seats. The tide had come in! I told Nico it would, but he wouldn’t listen… (men are ridiculous). The place where we were was surrounded by cliffs and a cave; if we would have stayed any longer, we would have gotten trapped, so we moved our stuff back to the spot where we were earlier, only to find that the tide would probably get us there too. So, we took our sleeping bags and stuff to the top of a hill of sand and fell asleep under the stars. It was a little scary sleeping on a hill; I made a ditch in the sand with my feet at the bottom my sleeping bag so that I wouldn’t slide down the hill in the middle of the night. Sand is not as comfortable to sleep on as I thought it would be either. It’s harder than sleeping on a floor, and I like sleeping on floors! Also, the waves, which had already seemed too treacherous to swim in, were crazy that night. They were crashing so loud that it scared me out of my sleep a few times. But, the weather was perfect, and I went to sleep with sand everywhere and a smile on my face.

In the morning, we ate snacks and most people surfed. I changed into my bathing suit, caught a little sun, and read a book. I don’t like when my skin gets too dark, because I start looking like a guy, so after a while, when I felt my skin toasting, I found some shade to chill in. After a few hours, I heard people gasping. I looked up the cliff, and there was baboon! He had stolen some food from someone and ran back up the cliff! After the sun slowly took away the shade I had found, I decided to go play in the water. The water was cold, but it was still pretty fun. I buried Nico’s foot in sand, then decided it was about time for me to go. Luckily, a group was leaving, so I squeezed in with them. This really sweet Afrikaner girl, who is in one of my classes, drove. We saw a group of baboons when we were waiting by the car; it was funny. It was really funny, because that’s South Africa. Wild animals… (I’ve seen a chameleon just walking across a sidewalk), beaches…. , and mountains! I really love it here.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu (September 26th)

My program got the opportunity to meet Desmond Tutu (click his name if you do not know who he is) the same week we got back from the Garden Route. Although, I was still very exhausted from Spring Break, and not exactly looking forward to getting up before sunrise on a Friday morning, I could not miss the opportunity to meet Desmond Tutu. Desmond Tutu is the first Black Archbishop of the Anglican Church of South Africa and a human rights activist who became famous for his fight against Apartheid. He won a Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts too. I cannot even describe all the things he has done, and how important he has been to South Africa and the world.

It was a dark, wet morning. It was really storming. I barely got out of bed (I had to get up at 4:00am!), but I did it somehow and headed to the bus. We drove to Capetown to St. George’s Cathedral to attend a Eucharist service with Tutu acting as the priest. Now, I have never attended church services other than Baptist ones, so I was a little nervous. I was not sure if I would be going against any of my own beliefs. But, God is God. There are people who are Baptist that would do me wrong… so, why miss praising God with a man who has risked his life to do God’s work?

I had joked earlier, “Man… for getting up this early, Desmond Tutu better be giving me communion or something!” I was really tired. I would have hated to wake up so early and just see Tutu for five minutes. I was like, “He better shake my hand or something!” Hahaha… Yall know how I am! It was great though.. like… DESMOND TUTU SERIOUSLY GAVE ME COMMUNION! He gave us all communion.

He led us all in prayers and read passages from the Bible. The service was very different from the ones I am used to having at church. I’m used to shouting, singing, clapping, and words seemingly coming from the heart. This service was more scripted. Like, we had to read from this prayer book. Tutu would say his part, and then we would respond. It was a little too mechanical for my taste, but I still felt God’s love. I hate to belittle Tutu, because he’s done so much in his life, but HE’S SO CUTE! He’s really short, old, and hilarious. He was making jokes the entire service. He also gave us all communion. Communion was different than what I’m used to. A lady and a man helped Tutu give out communion. I think he put the wafer in my hand, I put it in my mouth, then stepped to the left to a woman who had a cup of REAL WINE (like.. I got a little tipsy afterwards… you know I’m a light weight.) and I sipped from it. I also had to cross my heart with my hands like the Catholics do. I was a little apprehensive of drinking out of the same cup as strangers, including the ones on my trip (some of them are seriously nasty), but I just thought “God will protect me,” and I drank from the cup anyway.

After the service, we all got a picture with him and a few people sought out their own private pictures and time with Tutu. At the end of the trip, I was so happy that I had gone. When we returned to campus, that racist chick from the “drama” post came up to me and was like, “We need to talk.” I saw it coming from A MILE AWAY.. Literally.. a mile. She was staring at me and my friends the entire service, and she was eyeing me when I got on the bus. I saw her waiting around outside before I got off the bus, and I just knew she was waiting for me. I had expected it. People like her seize opportunities like that; if they’re unhappy, they want you to be too. "Misery loves company" as they say. Anyway, I completely ignored her (and I still am to this day). I was just like, “You should have wanted to talk to me BEFORE you started talking about me to other people. Simple. I don’t care what you said, you shouldn’t have said anything at all.” The sad thing is, I had GREAT day. Like, seriously. It was so cool; I feel like I learned something from Tutu. Like, although you know there is so much wrong and hate going on in the world, you can still laugh and enjoy yourself without feeling guilty at the end of the day about loving your life, yourself, and God. His laughter made me feel so good. Plus, I finally got to go to church. I needed it. But, she was too busy looking at us and probably thinking about how she was going to “confront” me to really take in the experience. And, that is a shame.

Hiking up Table Mountain

I don't know why I always do stupid poses when I hike. But that's a great view from the top of the mountain.

Table Mountain is like the first thing you notice when you visit Capetown. I remember I snuck a peek of it through someone else’s window in my row on the airplane when we first arrived here back in July. From the air, it was easy to tell that it was Table Mountain because it was so flat on top. So, when the opportunity came to hike the famous mountain, I couldn’t say no.

I actually decided to do it at the last minute. Yall know how I am? I got the email, I wanted to do it, but I forgot about it until someone else reminded me about it. By the time I remembered, I didn’t think their would be any spots left. However, my friend Andrea decided not to go and gave me her spot.

It was a windy but sunny day out; the temperature was perfect for hiking. I didn’t want to be late, so I hurried over to the meeting spot, but of course, when I am finally on time, no one else is. So, we waited a good extra 15 minutes for people to arrive. I was a little worried about lunch. I had forgotten about breakfast (a very dumb mistake on my part) and had stolen my flatmate’s peanut butter to make 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but with all that hiking, I wasn't sure that it would be enough. My friend Cassie and her Asian-Canadian flatmate, ?Mugoobe?, also came to hike up Table Mountain. Cassie forgot to pack her lunch, so I offered one of my pb&js, even though I was already worried about it not being enough for myself.

Anyway, we hopped on the bus and headed to Capetown. There is an airlift that takes people to the top of the mountain. THE LINE FOR THE AIRLIFT WAS SO LONG! There were so many tourists there. The airlift looked scary to me though. You know how I am with heights and machinery (I refuse to ride roller coasters); I’d rather hike up! We were going to hike up Table Mountain via the “Platteklip Gorge” route, which was actually down the road from the lift, so we had a long walk before we even really began hiking up the mountain. The beginning of the hike was BRUTAL. I mean, straight up climbing up over huge step after step after step. This was seriously the worst part of the entire hike. Cassie and I were the first ones to have to take a break, but we weren't the only ones. I was like, “Dang.. I don’t want to be at the end of the line, holding up the group!,” but I had to. It was really hard. We didn’t hold up the group at all either; they just kept on going. It was nice. I got to set my own pace. Casey and I started getting on each others’ nerves [hey, it happens!], so we separated and started really concentrating on making it up the mountain.

That mountain was so intense. It was like being on a “stair master” for 2 or 3 hours straight. I caught up with the group and even passed a few folks though. As we got towards the top, the hike got easier. There were a few friendly people too. One couple was coming down and they were like, “You’re about 10 minutes away.” Once they said that, I practically ran up the rest of that mountain! I was so happy to be done.

At the top.. it is COMPLETELY FLAT! I couldn’t believe it because it was so hard to get up and steep. But the top is completely flat. The mountain is really like a table! And there was a beautiful view of all of Capetown and all of Cape Point (which I’ve been to before, but I’m still waiting on Jayden to give me the pictures before I talk about it.). It was beautiful. The best part was THERE WAS A RESTAURANT AT THE TOP! There was all kinds of food; I had the cheese pizza! I hadn’t brought any money, so instead of me giving Cassie my sandwich, Cassie ended up paying for my food! Funny how that worked out!

After eating and chatting with some African tourists, it was time to head back to the bus. I ran down the mountain by myself. I just hate walking down mountains; it takes too long, and my knees start hurting. Running down is better. Walking down is how you get hurt. When you run down, your feet barely touch a rock for longer than a split second, so you have no chance of spraining your ankle or slipping.

I ran down by myself, and, when I got to the bottom, I felt so accomplished. I felt like I had conquered Capetown!