On Death and All His Friends

On August 18th, my brother emailed me to inform that his childhood friend was robbed and killed in Dallas. Daniel Jones was 21 years old. Daniel and my brother have been friends since freshman year at Bronzeville Military Academy in Chicago. Daniel graduated from high school at sixteen and would have graduated from Howard University this year. Instead his life was ended by two young men who thought his material possessions were worth his life. For a moment after hearing the news, I realized I couldn't cry. Daniel's death hurt. It still hurts. I find myself angry. Not angry outwardly nor is my anger directed at any particulur entity. But when I think about what happened to him and the other "Daniels" in the city of Chicago I lose a little faith in humanity. Thinking about what happened to him makes me physically sick. For those who don't know, four classmates of mine died last school year, two from similar incidents as Daniel's. I think part of my anger comes from knowing that with each death I've become a little more desensitized, mostly a product of my own doing. I've always been the one to tend to other people's needs in crisis situations and worry about myself later so in that respect I mourn later and longer.

Another part of my anger comes from knowing that as I write this there will be another "Daniel" in the city of Chicago. For those not familiar with Chicago news, in the last four years Chicago Public School(CPS) a little over 100 students have been killed. This summer before I left it was up to 37 for the 2009 school year and undoubtedly the list only grew after I left. Arne Duncan(then the head of CPS, now Education head in the Obama cabinet) noted that it was the equivalent of 1 child a week. I feel as those I am living in a city that has become so desensitized by its crime that it doesn't even blink when a murder of a child is reported. It has become so commonplace that we accept it as a part of life, not as some perverse action that should be mobilized against. I have to give credit to the artists of Chicago. People always underestimate the power of art but I know for a fact that the administration within the city of Chicago did not acknowledge the problem until artists and poets started curating exhibits and shows centered around the subject. The major one being the Desk Project in which a artist filled a room with school desks to represent each child. It has only been within the last year that the city's administration has acknowledge what has been happening. I don't have any answers on how to solve this problem, I wish I did. It seems that the CPS deaths are infinitely higher than any other cities according to studies. But what I do know is that Chicago is going to need to take more action on this issue and furthermore we as a city are going to have to take a long hard look at ourselves. What is it about Chicago that provokes this intensified violence? I can go on about social inequities in our city but that is another post. What I'll leave you with is a poem that some friends of mine performed at the Brave New Voices Poetry Festival in Washington D.C in 2008. It says more than I ever can. It's called Lost Count

Urban Voices Poetry Festival

I’m not going to go into to details because the following list of artists speak for themselves but I had the pleasure of seeing Staceyann Chin, Abena Koomson and Marc Bamuthi Joseph at the Cape Town Urban Voices Poetry festival. Quite frankly it was one of the best poetry shows I’ve ever seen. It reaffirmed my belief in activism through art because I never seen a crowd so moved by the words of each poet. If you ever get a chance to see anyone of these performers please do.

V.I.P is Overrated

Just a brief observation:
I and some friends went to Chrome (a club on Long Street) for an exclusive birthday party. The three of us were on the V.I.P list. I would just like to state that being in V.I.P is overrated. Mark my words, the other parts of the club are always more banging than V.I.P will ever be.
Also, another fact: Hipsters are the same no matter what country they are in. Just putting that out there. From Chicago to New York, D.C to London, Paris to Cape Town, they are the same people.

Wendy Welleslies in Cape Town

I had the pleasure of linking up with a Wellesley alum while in Cape Town. Adria class of 2003 has been living in Cape Town for over a year and is head of her own legal service outsourcing company. I should mention she is only 28 and thus far has law school, working at a New York firm, starting her own international company and winning multiple prestigious awards for said company under her belt. Yes, a true Wellesley woman. She was kind enough to treat me to lunch at Polona, a cosy restuarant overlooking the sea in Fishoek. Over lunch she reminisced over Wellesley and the good old days of 2003. Full disclosure: She was an Ethos and TZE member, International Relations major and in general a very accomplished young woman during her time at Wellesey. It’s a good feeling to know that I can be anywhere in the world and the Wellesley connection will always come through.

Mama Africa, Bang Bang and Euro Trash

After dinner at Cubana, I decided to go to Mama Africa with Sarah, Saiya and Laura. Mama Africa is the quintessential tourist experience. Located on Long Street you can see the American and European tourists from a mile away. Inside, the space is intimate and the house band is amazing. The house band plays a mix of afro-jazz, and contemporary songs and quite frankly they are some of the best live music I’ve ever seen. The bar itself had a nice ambiance, but I observed a lot of shady activities. Notably, the five 20 year women who were taking turns giving a 70 year man lap dances. Or the men at the bar who just had to buy me a drink and after they heard my accent damn near gave marriage proposals. Yeah, no thanks. But all in all Mama Africa is a good spot and if it weren’t for the drunk Americans in the front row the atmosphere would be perfect. After Mama Africa, we went on a wild goose chase to find the club “Bang Bang”. When we finally found the place, imagine my delight to find out that tonight was Trance night. Great. I JUST love trance music and being surrounded by drunken Euro Trash. Saiya and Laura headed to the bar, Sarah and I decided to “rock out”. After 15 minutes of mimicking a seizure to the beat, I had “rocked” out. So for the duration of my two hours at Bang Bang I decided to people watch. What better material is there other than drunk and high euro trash all painted in fluorescent body paint. After watching a girl "bang bang" her nose into the stage not once, but twice, I knew it was time to go.

I'll be gone till November...

I left Chicago at 1:50 on Tuesday, July 14th and arrived in Cape Town on 9:50 PM July 15th. I am terrified to fly. Anyone who knows me knows that my greatest fear is being sucked out of an airplane mid-flight, hence the reason I do not drink, eat or stand on flights, and this flight was no different. It may sound crazy and I fully recognize that my fear is composed of paranoia, but I don’t care. Twenty-two hours, 6 bendryl (for my nerves), and one near death experience “attempting” landing in Dakar, I arrived in Cape Town.

My first impression of Cape Town was just how beautiful the city is. They call Paris the city of lights, but that is only because they didn’t see Cape Town first. Driving at the bottom of Table Mountain to the hotel, you can see the entire city. The ocean view is magnificent even at night. This is going to be a good semester.

Welcome to Cape Town!

I decided to keep a blog in order to keep a record of my trip. The first few posts are a review of my first month, and I’ll try to keep the blog up to date for the duration of my trip.

My Destination