Everyone feel sorry for me. With the exception of Port beating the crap out of Brisbane on Saturday to claim the flag, I’ve had a crappy assed weekend, due to poverty and stupid friends going to Namibia.

Yeah so port won. Whoopdie friggin doo. They’re still interstate, so I don’t care and they smell. If I HAD to pick an Adelaide team to support, it’d be the Crows. They’ve had a tough year this year with Ayres retiring and all, plus they are just cooler. They don’t have wanganeen though…. hmm

Anyway this weekend. Becky, Tom, Matt, Kelli and almost everyone else I possibly could socialise with this weekend up and left to either float down the Orange River prospecting for diamonds or caravaning around with random teachers. Damn them all.

However the loneliness of a long weekend by myself wasn’t so bad, it meant I went and saw people I normally wouldn’t have, and gave my liver a long needed break. Also gave me a chance to clean the house infront of a massive get-out-of-the-house effort this week. Becky’s is now the only room still grotty, and thats her domain. Domain of the Witchlord to be exact. *shudder*

Anyway here’s to the end of my GAP placement (sadly it was my last day today)!

Pete

I was so bloody sure. I really thought I had escaped this fucking place without being held at knife point. I had heard stories, read news articles (some guy was killed last week for R2) and the like but it all seems so bloody distant without it having happened personally. As if anything was going to happen to me!

Anyway I decided to make some sushi on Wednesday night and as I was cooking realised I had no avocado. Considering they are in season and kind of make sushi awesome I decided to walk down to the supermarket and pick up a couple. I went down to the Riverside mall shopping centre, drew money from the ATM there, and bought the avos and some orange juice with the money i took out, then headed off. This is possibly where it all started – it’s a well known robbery scenario – some guy scouts machines, sees someone drawing lots of cash and phones his mates who mug the (previously rich) poor bugger outside. Whether this was the case with me remains to be seen – I make a point to protect myself whenever I draw cash in this country, and I can vouch that there was no-one within sight of me, but everyone I’ve talked to says it’s probablly how it all started, and it does seem the most likely story.

Anyway the walk home is along a river-come-canal in a lush, posh residential area of Cape Town. It was no more than 400 metres but although it’s a ‘safe’ area, it’s quiet and in hindsight was probably not the smartest route to take home. As I was walking along the running path along the river I noticed up ahead three black guys, probably 17 or 18 ahead of me, milling around on a bridge. As I aproached they saw me, talk to each other and then started walking towards me. As soon as I saw this, I knew what was in store for me. There was no way I could back out either, as they were no more than 10 metres away, and if I had taken flight they would have probably just chased me down (I was weighed down with a 4 litre bottle of juice and 3 avos) and still mugged me. As they got close they all eyed me up and down, weighing their chances and as I passed they turned and stopped me. One stood behind me and the other two asked for change for a phone call. I declined, knowing damn well what was happening now and feeling the adrenal glands start up. They all stepped forwards, right up to me one directly in front, and one one each of my sides, blocking all escapes. The guy up front produced a knife, muttered something like ‘All right then let’s go’ and reached for my pocket.

All through life we’re told to submit to muggings, let them do their thing and worry more about preserving your own life than money or goods. However taking into account I had R2000 freshly in my wallet, I acted on impulse, dropping the juice on my own foot, but swinging my right elbow with all I could muster into one guys head. I got a clear blow to his face, and he stumbled backwards, giving me more room and suprising the others, although unfortunately I can’t say I rendered him unconcious. With the same arm I threw a weighty punch at the front guy, missing him (his face was stupefied, it was fantastic!) as he backed right off. I then swung my other arm at the remaining guy on my left, hitting his torso as I pushed forwards out of direct contact with him. This last guy however had been reaching for my back pocket, and I mistakenly assumed he had succeeded in taking the wallet. The guys had started to run by now and, thinking I had been robbed started after them, then realising that nothing had been taken and stopping. During the few seconds that the whole drama was played out, I was yelling obscenities at the top of my lungs, so no sooner had the whole thing ended but about 10 people from houses and estates nearby came out ‘to my rescue’. One of them alerted the cops of the situation and offered to drive me the next 200 metres. I thanked him declining his offer to give me a lift and walked off with a broken orange juice bottle and bruised avocados.

It’s funny. Both times I’ve been held up in my life, once in High St back home and this second time I’ve done stupid things. Call it impulse, because that’s what it is I suppose. I’ve chosen to stick to my guns and ‘let ‘em have it’, but (luckily) both times I’ve escaped with my life and belongings. Maybe it’s because I’m a big guy, maybe it’s because both time my assailants were younger (I think) than myself. I’m sure both times they’ve been as scared as me, robbing an innocent.

Anyway that’s the drama of my year here. I admit that what I did was a fucking stupid thing, but instead of just adding to the crime statistics I escaped unhurt physically or financially. I think that counts as success.

Pete

Ahh life with Becky ranges from infuriating to quite pleasant in a matter of hours, and quite often seconds. Yesterday was another prime example of why we’re not such good housemates.

Bec works, as I’m sure I’ve written before for COSAT, a sister school that uses the same premises as LEAF. However, unlike LEAF it’s a High School, and so in typical high school style, they hold a matric dinner/dance each year, and this year’s was in town last night.

Becky was invited as a staff member but forgot (or decided) not to ask me along until 24 hours before the event. Normally I’d be fine with that, but in South Africa I have very few clothes, let alone dress clothes and even less money. Upset that she would leave it so late to ask me, I decided to play her around and say I wasn’t going. God was that a mistake, as I copped the biggest and fullest earful I think I’ve ever recieved. Yuo!

Anyway I ended up being dragged along, initially in a casual but collared shirt and jeans, but feeling underdressed I stopped at a friends house and picked up a pair of slacks to make myself look less than slobby.

I forgot the point of this post. Oh well – becky smells.

Pete

Considering I don’t own a digital camera I should post more of these. Basically guys roam party venues wach night with digi cams and take photos of everyone they can, then post it on a webiste. This one is blueworld.co.za, and it’s Springbok pub on Friday night. I invited the girls from St Cyps over this side of the mountain for drink before heading out to Claremont, although through becky getting off work late and all, we didn’t make it past Bokke. The retard in the first shot is Mark Evans, then (going left to right, then down) is:
Random and Jacinta on a table;
The masses (I’m somewhere in the top right);
Jack, Sarah and Becky WITH MY HEAD, WATCH AND BEER IN ASWELL!;
Mark and Kelli;
Kelli and Tom;
Tom and Matt.
Enjoy.

Pete

Well well well. St. Kilda and Geelong both disappoint. How unbelievable. Fucking Victoria. Anyway Grand Final day, next Saturday the 25th of September, the once proud day for Victorians ALONE is being hogged by two interstate teams. The Brisbane Lions will play Port Adelaide Power for the premiership cup. I couldn’t really care less either way, as Brisbane have cheated their way into 3 (and now possibly 4) premierships in a row, and Port are just about as gay as you can get footywise. What a crock.

Pete

Interesting weekend to say the least. When I first signed up for GAP and got in touch with the head honcho of my programme, he informed me that they run a camp during the september holidays for the students. It’s semi-educational, based in a nature reserve about 90 minutes north of Cape Town. There is an abundance of wildlife and natural beauty, but also the imposing force of heavy industry, with a steel mill and cement plant supporting the town and economy of the surrounds. It’s an interesting little microcosm, and I suppose useful for budding engineers to see what implications their work has on nature, and how they can please both employers and nature in the future. Anyway that’s where I’ve been for the last four days – swimming in the picturesque Langebaan lagoon.

Speaking of lagoons, mark down September 19th (AKA this Sunday) in ye diaries! It’s international talk like a pirate day. So talk like a pirate. Or don’t.

Also mark down Friday and Saturday nights as the 2nd and 3rd most important days of the month, because it’s preliminary final time. Port Vs Sainters and Briso Vs Geelong. CARN THE CATS! Oh and both Essendon and the Dee’s can go to hell. Cocky buggers – sucks to be crap.

Pete

I decided in a moment of calm this week to go searching for my ticket out of the country, so I could ring the airline to make sure it was still going ahead. I found it after hours of searching, and indeed, after a quick phonecall to Lufthansa got confirmation that I am leaving South Bloody Africa at the end of the month. Quarter past seven from Jo’burg, if anyone is interested…

Anyway now another problem surfaced – getting to Johannesburg from Cape Town. In recent years it’s become cheaper to fly than to bus, so sure enough I got onto the kulula.com website and booked myself up. They advertise at R440 for one way, but I somehow ended ip paying almost R800. Alright, so I chose a popular flight on a very popular day, and it is only 3 weeks from now but JEBUS that’s expensive. Nonetheless, all is good on that particular front, but I will (unfortunately) be spending about 4 hours at Joburg airport between flying in at 14:45 and leaving at 19:15. I suppose at least I can check in early and get an extra-legroom seat on the wing.

Speaking of ‘on the wing’, the footy season ended rather quietly for us Southern aussies the weekend before last. Sad yes, but then again I’ve seen about 5 minutes of a match this year, and somehow being 15,000km away in a country that haven’t heard of the sport, it’s difficult to get too emotional or excited about finals. Especially when Carlton are also out of the 8. Anyway from an unbiased, outsider-looking-in viewpoint, I’d like to see Geelong win their semi this week, then pummel next week and eventually walk away with the flag. The cats are cool – unlike Melbourne or even worse, the bombers. As for interstate teams, they’ve had their time at the top…. Carn the VICS!

Anyhoo enough babbling – I’ve got a movie to catch…

Pete

Oh joy – elections have been called – October 9.

Typically, being out of the damned country I got the news 2 days late. Oh well today I applied to the Australian Embassy in Pretoria for a postal vote. I may be out of Australia so I don’t technically have to vote but I will anyway. How awesome am I?

I was talking to Mark Evans a few weeks ago about elections, and in our little discussion (thankfully with the support of other Australians) we started arguing about Australia’s compulsory voting system, although the same laws are actually imposed in about 20 other countries around the world, including Belgium, the Netherlands, Austria and Luxembourg (although there are only about 2 voters in Lux). I’ve talked to people about this issue before, and as is often the case, many people, mainly American (in my experience anyway) citizens hell-bent on drilling home the ‘democratic’ freedoms they so enjoy tend to offer the most vocal but ignorant opinions on the subject. The truth of the matter is it isn’t compulsory to vote, but rather to pitch up on the day of the elections, and at least go into a polling booth. Whatever you do in there is up to you, ensuring the freedom of those politically unversed or disenchanted to cast their invalid vote.

It’s my opinion at least that the pros of compulsory voting outweigh the negative aspects. Although it can still be argued to be a stripping of individuals liberties, the country strengthens the collective freedom of speech (by forcing the bloody collective to speak ) and therefore parliament more closely reflecting the opinion of the masses. Add to this the financial burden of enticing voters to turn out being lifted, and the case for compulsory voting becomes relatively strong.

Of course Australia and the other countries that practise this particular electoral law will always be seen as eccentric by others, but I am happy with the system, as are countless other voters – and at least I can complain about Johnny Howard knowing that I at least had a say on whether he is our leader or not, a priviledge more than half of the Americans among us cannot.

Pete