Hello Cape Town

I’ve moved out of home and in with my boyfriend. I now own a double bed not a single bed. I have to wash my own dishes. Make my own bed. Clean my own toilet. Fold my own clothes. Buy groceries. Remember to buy groceries. Remember that milk goes bad after a week. Cook for myself. Not fall into the trap of eating tuna sandwiches all the time. Pay the water bill. Pay the electricity bill. Find a job. I drink instant coffee now. Remember that this is all normal.

I left UKZN and signed up at UCT. I was a big fish, now I’m a little fish. I’m the new girl. I get lost. I look lost. I have to ask for directions. I walk around with a map in front of my face. I was friends with lecturers. They knew my name. My history. Now I have to introduce myself. Make friends. Find friends. It was easy and now it’s hard. I knew how to work the system. Now I don’t understand the system. Parking discs are more expensive. Girls are at varsity but dressed for something much more important. I feel underdressed in lectures. There are a lot more white people. I’m not used to it.

I lived in Durban and now I live in Cape Town. The sun sets later. The traffic’s worse. The air’s less wet. The ocean’s freezing. The beaches are beautiful. The people are different. I don’t hear Zulu. Every second voice is foreign. American. European. People wear cameras around their necks. The skies are always clear. It hasn’t rained and it’s summer. Things are faster. There’s no humidity slowing things down. Making people take their time. I mix up the mountains. I’m surrounded by ocean so I never know which way is up. I can’t say I live in KZN anymore. There’s no acronym for the Western Cape.

Goodbye Durban.

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