Stellenbosch is like a bizarro Dutch colonial Yale, with more affluence surrounding the campus than New Haven. Stellenbosch has a bunch of residences (Res's? It's a lot of s's together) that you apply to get into, each looking like a small hotel. More often than not they are also single-sex, so there frequently are Res mixers so that you can finally meet people of the other sex. There's a three-story student center sponsored by one of the banks that looks like a mall. And is comparable in size to many of the actual malls I've been to in Cape Town. Cheap food, Matie gear, miscellaneous shops- if Yale ever found space to put one of these in, I would be so, so happy. Essentially it would be Broadway with a roof over it.
We walk through the library, sort of designed to look like a boat, and admire the creation of South Africa through a bunch of old maps dating back to when it was first colonized by the Dutch. Wandering through campus, we see the electrical engineering building where Pierre works, a statue whose asscheeks are clearly worn from people rubbing them, more residential halls where Pierre has gotten in trouble. He tells us of how on nights when everyone is out, there are frequently fights between different res's and different years, and that people constantly are getting pulled away and hit with cricket bats.
After the tour, we pick up Stew again and go to the Stellenbosch Market, their version of the Old Biscuit Mill market or the Farmer's Market at Yale. This incarnation is held at the Oude Libertas vineyard and parking is overflowing. Most of the vendors have taken shade under green tents or one of the main vineyard buildings. The usual fares are there- fresh breads and dips, coffees, clothes- along with some more "exotic" foods- shwarmas, seafood platters, pies and samooosas. We walk around and sample as much as we can. Stew and Quynh have a very involved conversation about pestos. I'm almost convinced to get beef biltong again- Namibian beef is so damn good. The atmosphere is wonderful though- an eclectic South African soundtrack of blues, tribal music, and soft jazz plays as crowds wander through, many clearly wearing sunglasses on a somewhat cloudy day to hide their hangovers, many whom I watched get said hangovers the night before.
As we sit on a stoop and eat our food, Pierre and Stew meet up with their friend Robinlee and talk hockey and university gossip while Quynh goes into the art gallery. These 3 have really been involved in hockey, and Robinlee and Pierre have done so at very high levels of play- impressive club teams, even national teams. We stay for a few hours and then head back home to watch a few episodes of Entourage and so Pierre can get ready for his match.
Walking across the street to the hockey pitch (he has an ideal house for someone who plays hockey), we see the traffic circle getting jammed once again (I don't know why traffic circles are so popular because they are incredibly hectic to go through) as high schoolers (some whom Pierre coaches) go in and out for their games. The young kids have great private school uniforms with really nice colorful blazers. Though this is a college game, not many people are at the stands yet, and not many people really end up coming. It's a brisk day, countered with bottles of beer and cups of hot cocoa from the clubhouse. The pitch is surrounded by mountains, and Pierre says that sometimes when the ball goes out, all the players stop and just admire the sun setting in the sky and creating red-purple hues against the peaks.
The game is a fairly important one against Durbanville, a school north of Cape Town, for 3rd place in the standings. Unlike the high school games, there aren't any cheerleaders (with their conservative outfits a la Stellenbosch) or crazy fans (with shirts rather than chests painted to spell out words), just some classmates and older people. But soon we are met by Malie and Chris who have come to hang out with us since we missed them at Terrace the night before. Chris doesn't really remember seeing me because he blacked out for a good part of the night (they love beer pong here).
The game ends up being a really sloppy 2-0 victory for Stellenbosch, as the four of us just chat about the night before and Malie's adventure dealing with a catty fabric store owner in Cape Town. Though Malie has to leave, Chris invites us to a "chill dinner party" at a farm outside Stellenbosch. We oblige and meet Pierre after his game to discuss the plans. While he has to go get some drinks at the clubhouse and talk with alumni, we have his keys so we can get our stuff.
Pierre gives us warning that his key is a little tricky. It's clearly a bit bent in the middle, and, as he describes it, "you just have to keep wiggling it in there until you can turn it". Quynh initially has a lot of problems getting the key in. I give it a try and turn the key 180 degrees in a direction it definitely should not have been turned. It reminded me of an episode of the Rugrats where Tommy tries to escape daycare by making a key out of play-doh, though that key may have worked. A little more turning and SNAP, the key breaks in half.
Quynh and I just give looks of death to one another. Because this is a South African house, the security is quite tight and all the windows have bars. Also, the doors have latch locks, so it's almost impossible to break into them. The car keys are inside, along with all of our possessions, and Pierre's roommate has gone out of town with the only other set of keys. We send urgent texts to him, and within 15 minutes he comes rushing over. Apparently this has happened before, so the plan is to boost Quynh so she can sneak into an unusually large gap in the bars by one of the bedrooms and disable the alarm system in time so that there's no trouble. We also have to look as unsuspecting as possible, because Pierre and I to the outsider look like 2 colored guys trying to break into a house in a predominantly white neighborhood, which could prompt a lot of trouble. Needless to say, we successfully break into the house, thank Pierre for his hospitality, and set off, though we will probably see him again before the week ends.
We meet Chris at a gas station and follow his truck to the farm. It's getting dark, but we can see that we are driving through multiple vineyards and beautiful countrysides, snaking through forests and eventually driving around the property belonging to Chris's friends. Quynh reminds me that Chris works for a winery, so we realize that this dinner is actually at a wine estate.
As we pull up to the house, it's a FUCKING MANSION. Gorgeous wood paneling, sound systems, large open rooms with long dinner tables, beautifully upholstered sitting rooms, a fireplace outside between buildings- this is a fantastic place. We've found our way to the Jordan Wine Estate and meet Christy and Alex- the two kids of the owners. Also there is Storm, a guy we had run into at Terrace with Alex and who Quynh had talked to previously. The three of them look like standard beach kids, very tan and buff (well, not Christy) and laid back. Most white South Africans I've met are pretty built and unusually beautiful.
We just chill outside for a while by the fireplace and talk about school and going out and traveling. They are all friends with Chris and it seems like people come up to the estate quite often, especially because it has a hill that overlooks everything including Cape Town that is beautiful when all the lights are out (also, we learn how "keen" and "mission" and "bleak" are popular South African slang). Hookup culture comes up, and South Africans are not shy and pretty liberal with this sort of thing, talking about people that they want to bag.
As we're outside drinking more wine (Jordan of course), Alex braais up a storm- stuffed chicken, steaks, corn- it's an amazing spread, and we eat in a room that is surrounded by scenery. Eat, drink, and be merry- how the hell do we end up in these situations? After a nice dinner, we head over to the entertainment room and play some pool and listen to some techno. Unfortunately, we have to leave early (11 pm) because we need to get back to Cape Town and wake up early to go the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens the next day. Heading to the car, we notice that the garage is open and there we find Alex and Storm admiring some of Alex's "farming experiment"- huge ziplocs full of weed. Beautiful looking weed. Living on a vineyard is so nice.
Driving away, neither Quynh nor I are quite sure of the path that we took. After testing a few roads and being unsure, we end up on one that is taking us up a hill, a hill that I don't remember going up. As I start to reverse down the hill (because there's nowhere to turn around and driving through the vineyard fields would be blasphemous), my back window is still fogged up and then I feel a big lurch.
Shit. I'm in a ditch. I've backed the back tire of Jack into a huge irrigation ditch. And this isn't like a regular dirt ditch- this is a ditch lined with bricks and right up on the start of the vineyard. Quynh is freaking out, worried that we're going to have to tow it and call the car company and all this crap. I look and there's no real damage to the car, and only the back tire is stuck, so it doesn't look like it's going to be much trouble. Quynh calls up Chris, who drives up to see what the deal is and just laughs at our misfortune. This prompts him to call up Alex and Storm, who both also laugh at our situation. Two well-meaning pretty decent Americans stuck in a ditch at night in Alex's grandfather's vineyard.
Alex first wants to tow our car, but his truck ends up not being able to pull it out. Storm's idea- smoke the J that he has been rolling since he drove up and just wait until the morning to deal with this- an idea that's not terrible, but that isn't really helpful to us (though I'm glad someone else wasn't freaking out). We finally settle on having Chris, Alex, and Storm lift the side of the car while I try to drive out, an idea which works beautifully and we're free from the ditch. We drive home and laugh about the past 48 hours. Again- how the hell do these things happen to us?
