It's been a while. But it's good to be back. I'm still feeling the after effects of both what (in my best estimation) was a bout of giardiasis, as well as the medication. N.B. Unless it's a life or death circumstance, avoid metronidazole at all costs. It's a serious drug that's not at all fun. But anyway, here's how I've been keeping busy in between doctor visits and bouts of anxiety.
- I've been to a couple cricket matches at the beautiful Sahara Park Newlands since last we spoke. The stadium itself, as Kevin described it, is very colonial with its ornate pavilion a playground for the Capetonian elites sitting just in the shadow of Table Mountain looming at long off. Also, cricket is probably the most wonderful, relaxing sport in the world short of, say, lawn bowling. You can show up after work, sit down on a lawn, occasionally get up and grab a beer or a boerewors, come back and nothing has happened. I'm slowly exposing my fellow interstudy counterparts to the regal sport, and I think some of them are getting the hang of it. Most of the time, however, when the action happens, and a cheer erupts from the fans gathered, they will slowly turn their heads and ask, "So...uh...what happened?" Trust me, explaining the leg before wicket rule is complicated when the other person has even a vague understanding of the laws of the game. Imagine then trying to explain this to Kevin, who is generally on his fourth or fifth Bosun's Bitter by the time such a question comes up. Nonetheless, a fun time is always had by all.
- Spent last Saturday night at the Grandwest Casino in Goodwood, north of town. The vast expanse of the gaming hall itself is staggering. I've spent a lot of time here in Africa feeling disoriented and turned around, but this was not an African disorientation. It's that Americanized, purposeful, "Please empty your wallets" disorientation which those of us who have been to Foxwoods or Mohegan Sun or the entire city of Las Vegas know very well. Nonetheless, the casino itself is quite posh and entertaining, with not just the gaming pavilion, to take advantage of but also more than ten top-flight restaurants and several nightclubs for you to enjoy when the money runs out. Ashley - who spent most of the evening making friends all around her at the slot machines with her, shall we say, effusive and effervescent displays - and I decided to make a quick stop in the Jackson Hall bar after the evening's gaming was done. So there I was, wearing my proudly South African K-Way fleece, well-worn jeans and sneakers hitting the dance floor. Alone - with Ashley. I don't think I could have looked more awkward, White and American if I tried. Literally, to a person, everyone in the bar turned and looked at the dance floor when we hit it and started getting, what can only be referred to as, "jiggy." Possibly even "jiggy wit' it." Very soon, some of fellow taverngoers decided to join us. I choose to believe they were awe-inspired by my superior dance moves. That, or they were trying desperately to drown out my incredibly awkward dance moves and move me off to the side.
- Which reminds me of one final encounter I should probably relay to you, dear reader. As I was walking back from the boerewors stand last Friday during the Cape Cobras match with the Warriors at Newlands, one of the ushers approached me, with a big grin on his face and asked me if I had seen the movie "Hitch." He actually thought I was the King of Queens himself, Kevin James. This, of course, is only because I am still goatee-less. Nonetheless, I immediately cracked up laughing, as, though the thought had not yet occurred to me, the usher was pretty dead on. So, if the whole politico thing or the chef thing doesn't work out in the long run, perhaps I can fall back on celebrity impersonator. In Africa. I just have to work on the whole White man overbite thing...
Cheers.
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