A day in the life

I've been here almost a month, and it's a weird feeling. One part of me feels like I'm still a newbie to this city, and another part feels like this has already become home.

I've (finally) completely unpacked my things (yes, it's really taken this long). Completely put away my suitcases, and organized a grocery list/shopping schedule that complements my tiny refrigerator shelf and small dry goods basket. I've discovered my favorite tea pot from the community kitchen. I've learned the best way to line-dry my laundry with clothes pins without leaving weird folds and "pinches" once they're dry. And I have 10 South African phone numbers in my phone.

The routine of normal life feels...normal. I get up at 6:45, stumble around my room getting dressed in the dark so not to wake my sleeping roommate and head downstairs to eat a breakfast of yogurt, granola and tea (and a scrambled egg if I'm not running late) with another housemate before we leave promptly at 7:10 for UCT.

I get to my office by 7:35 and make the ultimate decision of the day: do I take a nap for an hour, or get to work immediately? Guess which one usually wins.

I like working best in the university cafeteria, which is more like an open lobby area. I buy a cup of coffee and sandwich for lunch for R25 (about $3.30) from a lovely Xhosa woman and work all morning surrounded by sunlit windows and the bustle of other UCT academics. I settle down into work--reading and taking notes from various research articles on related health policy issues, and watching the previous night's Jon Stewart. You didn't think I could part from JS did you? Around 1:30 my laptop dies and I head back to my office to finish my work for the day.

My routine will somewhat change after today because I have new interns sharing my office with me. They're two American (the first two I've met since I've been here...honestly) PhD students. Now that I have company, perhaps I'll be more inclined to work in my office--what a novel idea!

One of my favorite phone calls of the day comes around 5pm, when my ride tells me he's coming to pick me up to leave for home. The rest of my (seemingly never ending) work will have to wait til tomorrow. On the drive back to Blencathra (our guesthouse) we make fun of the ridiculous SA radio, look for zebras grazing on the side of Table Mountain, and try not the stall out on a hill in evening traffic.

The rest of the night is spent either cooking dinner at the house and vegging out in front of the TV watching the World Cup match of the evening, or going downtown to watch the World Cup match of the evening. I won't say I've become an instant expert (or instant lover) of football, but I'm trying my hardest. But it's hard to NOT get excited when you're surrounded by the world's most devoted--and often craziest--soccer fans. I may not have eardrums after the blasts of the vuvuzelas--or a liver after the ensuing celebrations--but you can't be in Cape Town and not fall prey to World Cup fever.

I know I've already bought a return ticket for December, but that may need to be renegotiated.