21 Jan 2009 – Inauguration Abroad & First Ride on the Minibus

The lampposts all around Rondebosch and the city are always covered in the day’s headlines. They are written in English, Afrikaans, and sometimes Xhosa, but during the last few days, the word Obama has been jumping off the boldly printed front pages. Tuesday night, we had plans to visit the library near the Parade (the old military parade grounds) in the city, where the US Consulate planned to stream a live satellite feed of CNN for the inauguration. So after we finished visiting the last of the internships, we were dropped at the front of the library around 5:15PM (or 17:15, if I’m going to be culturally accurate).

We were a bit early for the 6 o’clock viewing, and the ceremony itself would be taking place about an hour later, so we walked up a nearby street and tried to familiarize ourselves with the area. We had a general idea of our location, since we’ve become a little more acquainted with the city, and we bought snacks and water at a convenience store before returning to find the viewing room already half full. The man who talked to us last week at the Consulate said a few words, and then the room continued to fill until all of the seats and much of the aisles were filled by a diverse and boisterous crowd. I did not have a chance to speak to more than a few people around us, but many of the people seemed to be interested Cape Townians. There were a few people from Delaware and Florida, and possibly several more from elsewhere in the US, but we were certainly the largest American group.

The room was packed by the time the ceremony began, and though the audio was cranked to its maximum setting, it was difficult to hear everything that Wolf Blitzer was commentating. To compensate, the crowd decided to cheer very loudly whenever anything remotely related to Obama, Clinton, or Carter crossed the screen. Accordingly, they scoffed and murmured their disproval at the less liberal faces. The international bias was clear.

The inauguration itself was interesting to watch, especially from such an emotionally charged, racially diverse setting. Anytime the new president mentioned something about his heritage or foreign policy, the room exploded in whoops and applause. Several photographers and camera crews perched on tables and chairs around the sides of the room, snapping shutters like we were in the White House press room. Some Americans in the middle rows hammed it up for the photos, as locals crammed themselves in the doorway, stretching up on their toes to get a better view of the blurry projector screen. Overall, it was a fun and unique experience.

Four of us decided to head back to Rondebosch after the inauguration concluded, and the sun was only just beginning to set, so we decided to take a minibus. We crossed the Parade and walked up onto the minibus terminal on the roof of the train and bus station. The area rarely sees tourists, as minibuses are the cheapest way to travel and tend to cater to locals. We’d had an exercise on locating the buses and asking the fares, so we knew we just had to find a minibus driver that told us he was going to Rondebosch. Eventually, one of them affirmed that he was, and we took the last four seats in the back of the crowded van. The windows didn’t open very far, so it was quite stuffy across the backseat, but the ride was not as wild as we’d been warned to expect.

But our trouble began when the man collecting our fares asked where we were getting off, and he informed us that our stop would require getting off in a different suburb and taking a second minibus the rest of the way. Though we were annoyed at the initial miscommunication, we had no other choice but to get off in Mowbray, so we paid our 5 Rand (50 cents), and rode the rest of the way to the stop, while chatting with a friendly man in the seat in front of us. He had a lot to say about the election and the inauguration, once he found out we were American, and it was interesting to hear his impressions of how Obama would handle the next four years. His opinions were more tempered than I had expected, as he explained how Obama will be good for America, but he will not live up to the expectations of most Africans. His insight into American politics surprised us, given how oblivious most Americans are about other nations’ politics.

At the Mowbray stop, the man explained where we had to wait for the next minibus, and we thanked him before getting out onto the dim side street. It took us five minutes to decide we didn’t want to simply hang around waiting in a spot we didn’t know for a minibus we weren’t sure was coming, so we decided to start walking. We found Main Rd., which we knew ran straight through to Rondebosch, and began walking briskly out of Mowbray. The streets were hardly empty, but we were racing the fading light and several times contemplated calling a metered cab, which are the only safe forms of transportation after dark.

We determined our location based on the orientation of Table Mountain on our right, and about twenty minutes later came upon the Rondebosch stretch of Main Rd. Relieved, we stopped to buy more internet and phone minutes at Pick ‘N Pay, and then began the familiar walk home. By the time we rounded the Commons it was nearly 9 o’clock, and we’d probably walked over two and a half miles. But we’d returned safely and learned a valuable lesson about transportation in Cape Town.

Wednesday was a day relatively to ourselves – the first we’ve had since we arrived. Aside form a practice run of taking the minibus to our internships (which begin on Monday), we were free to venture about the city, shop at Mr. Price Home, Woolworths Grocery, or other Rondebosch shops, and lounge by the pool. A few students opted for an afternoon at Camp’s Bay beach.

Tomorrow is the first day of classes, and some of us will be up early to walk the 45 minutes “up the mountain” to UCT campus. Until then, I’ve got to think about dinner. It’s been an adjustment figuring out how to shop, prepare, and cook entirely for myself, here, but even though restaurant prices are so low, I can’t eat out all of the time!