Today we took the train to Musenburg Beach. Elle and I were in a rush to meet up with everyone to get to the train. First we had to stop at the pharmacy because I still haven’t been feeling better. Apparently here, most people just go to the pharmacist, tell them their symptoms, and the pharmacist gives them an appropriate drug cocktail. This way you can cut out the middleman (a.k.a. doctor). Health care crisis solved. President Obama and Congress, now is when you should be taking notes. So we got back from the pharmacy and popped over to Kauai, a health food restaurant with take-out. The person at the counter greets you with “Aloha!” which is disheartening at tropically themed family restaurants in the States, but just a little absurd in Africa. So we got our orders and walked over it to the train station where we bought tickets for 8 rand. Which is 8 rand more than any other person on that train paid. We realized that the idea of tickets just really wasn’t that relevant to actually using the train. Nobody ever checked the tickets or cared if you had train tickets, traffic tickets or a Golden Ticket. The ride to Musenburg took about 20 minutes, I was afraid we were going to miss the stop. But once we got there, it was pretty obvious; from the train you could see miles of beach and ocean ahead of you. So we disembarked and walked up along the beach. Musenburg is known for its surfing and for its sharks. The waves were very small today but about 20 minutes after we arrived, everyone was cleared out of the water because of a shark sighting. A guy with a jetski rode around for a little bit, allegedly looking for sharks in the area, but really just trying to look like a baller on a jetski. We were allowed to get back in the water after not too long. I’ve had a fever these past couple of days so I didn’t get in, but instead took pictures as Kase and Conner gave Ellen a crash course in surfing. She was persistent and stood up by herself! I was beaming and pointing, like a pageant mom and naturally made everyone look over to watch her. Bad move. While some people were out in the water and I was pointing at Ellen, a man walked right up and took a camera that someone in our group had left out. Another beachgoer next to us took off running after him and a few boys in our group realized a little too late what was going on and followed. Luckily, they were able to catch him and get the camera back! We stayed at the beach until about 5 and then got on the train heading home so that people could start getting ready to go out to Tiger Tiger tonight because apparently it gets crowded really early.
I’m still not feeling very well and I want to try and rest up and actually get better, so I decided not to go out with everyone tonight. It really makes me appreciate little things like being able to get in a car by myself at night back home and drive wherever. Near our house, there is an internet café and little downtown area—probably about the distance from DG to the 9-0. But without someone else or a male escort, there is no way to get there. Can’t walk by yourself. Can’t take a taxi by yourself. I know it is for my own safety, but it is hard going from a country where a woman can be so independent to relying on others all the time. I think it will get easier with time, once I get more used to the idea. But for now. I guess I’ll just call it culture shock.
-Becca
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