It's the little things, take 1

Since common journalism wisdom recommends helping your interview subjects identify with you, I’m doing my best at work to sound as local as possible without actually forging an accent (though, like that time I went to Texas, I do find myself unconsciously and subtly mimicking at times anyway). I’m starting a list of potentially interesting Cape Town –isms, influenced variously by British, Xhosa, Zulu, Dutch, and other cultures in the South African pipeline.

Words:
“robots” = traffic lights.
“geyser” (GEE-zer) = water heater
“phone me” instead of “call me”
“petrol” instead of “gas” for cars
*A whole lot of people say “cheers” without irony. I had gotten into a whole ironic in-joke regarding “cheers” just before leaving the States, and still find it difficult to actually respond normally.

British spellings. Enough said.

When giving a phone number, digits are usually grouped the same as in US, with (area code or name of city) ### - ####. But repeated digits are almost always mentioned, regardless of how they fall in the grouping. So 011 375 5444 would probably be said “Johannesburg 37 double-5 triple-4.”

Text messaging on cell phones is not considered unprofessional here, and frequently businesses will have SMS-only phone lines instead of/to supplement normal customer service lines. I have a few times been advised to SMS a source who is stuck in meetings all day. And it worked.

The metric system, which has complicated cooking slightly. Preheating the oven requires a calculator. My coworkers will say things along the lines of “30 degrees in Durban today! Lucky sods!”

Rain and 15 today. 30 degrees in Durban. Lucky sods.

Courts

Yesterday, I tagged along with Karen, the justice reporter, and observed the South African High Court. I haven’t quite figured out which tier of American courts it would correspond to, but the proceedings I saw were for events that occurred 2-5 years ago.

Right away, I figured out I won’t be doing any actual court reporting myself here. Lawyers and judges slip effortlessly between English and Afrikaans, and while some clearly have a preference for English, judges will address a lawyer in whichever language the lawyer started in. I only managed to understand about half of any one proceeding. At best. Karen was kind enough to translate the big picture for me, and court reporters from different papers frequently share information and contacts, but it’s a huge stretch to think I’d be able to find someone to translate 75% of a case for me over coffee. Still, it was interesting to see how things work. I’m finding that a lot of things in Cape Town are very similar to things in the States, but with enough differences to catch you off guard just when you start feeling comfortable.

For example, there is no jury system in the South African courts. Judges are vested with the power to render verdicts, the logic being that they take oaths of objectivity, recuse themselves when they cannot be objective, and have a good 30 years of experience in the courts as lawyers and lower magistrates before they’re put such a position of trust. And even then, it’s still difficult to become a judge. In particularly complex cases, a second judge may sit in as assessor, someone to assist and bounce ideas off. Verdicts can still take days, though.

Also, lawyers in the high court wear formal robes, as do court stenographers and other aides. It’s pretty formal. I did like that when entering late, people bow slightly to the judge before finding a seat. There are so many instances like that where I wish I could apologize but it would be even worse if I did.

I may go into more depth on the justice system here if I ever dig up a copy of the South African Constitution, which is pretty amazing in theory but, so far, imperfectly executed.

Greetings from South Africa. It is cold here, by which I mean September 1^st was the first day of spring, and the high today will be somewhere between 60 and 70. I’d give exacts, but the forecasts are in Celsius and all I remember of that is that water boils at 100 and freezes at 0, and 20 is about room temperature in a high school chemistry lab. By day, I can get by in short sleeves and jeans if I keep moving and stay in the sun, but at night I’m glad I brought a couple sweaters and a fleece. It also gets dark early, with sunset around 6:30 at the moment.

I’ve been in Cape Town less than 48 hours and have yet to really talk to anyone who isn’t in my program, barring Alfonso, my taxi driver from the airport, who pointed out a lot of tourist attractions on the way and told me that when he saved enough money he was going to travel to America and see Memphis (Graceland) and the Bronx. I regretted to inform him that Wisconsin was no where near Memphis, and, unless he had a particular interest in exotic dairy cows, was probably not worth the extra money to visit. Another taxi driver told us last night that after 20 years of driving taxis, he was quitting in a year to move to Germany, where a friend will help him find something new to do. I’m not sure who will be left to drive taxis next year.

It’s pretty amazing to walk down the street and hear conversations that I can’t understand at all. It’s tough in English sometimes, too, because the accent is different, and not everyone’s English has the same accent. In a loud bar, even Australians are a little hard to follow.

Since opening my mouth at all pretty much flags me as foreign (though not necessarily American, it turns out), I’m finding myself pretty shy when I do have to talk. Buying groceries took forever because I didn’t want to ask where the peanutbutter was kept. I also try not to look at my map a lot when I go walking around, and it will probably be a week or so before I do anything so touristy as bring my camera along anywhere. Sorry, Mom.

Work starts next week. In the meantime, I’ve been reading the Cape Times (where I’ll be working) and listening to local radio to get a feel for current events. Politics and government spending is big. Sport is big. A few American items have popped up already; they’re mostly editorials about the presidential race. Barack Obama is in, Sarah Palin posing with slain caribou is out. Calvin & Hobbes is also in.

I’ve included the view from my bedroom. I’m on the 11^th floor, which is what we would call the 12^th, and to the north I have a great view of Table Mountain and some suburbs. There’s more city on the other side of the mountain, and I’m sure I’ll be hiking up there before the month is over.