Paranoia

From the moment I landed in this country it was very easy to see that there are huge differences between rich and poor, black and white, Camps Bay and Khayelitsha and the safety issues have nearly turned into paranoia. When we first arrived we'd happily walk the 20 minutes to uni. It was a quick stroll through some suburbian green areas, then over a footbridge and a few hundred meters next to a freeway. Then one day I was stopped and told not to go there by myself. The black university security guard looked at my milky white skin and said that no, as a white girl this was no place for me. Ok, so I stopped walking there by myself. A few days later Sigbjørn was told by another man not to go that route (he was also by himself) and later that day Kari and me were stopped by two armyguys in full combat gear with machineguns that we should probably start catching the bus. I haven't walked there since.

Then we have the minibus taxies. Rumours has it they like to take tourists on a stroll through unknown areas, but so far we're trying to get into the crowded ones that stay on the road where we're going. This is mostly an issue going to and from the gym, and I'm allright to go here by myself, provided it is daylight and there are other people in the taxi. At night time however, these are a no-no as well.

After dark you don't go out by yourself, and preferably not at all. When we walk home from uni (new, alternative, safer route) we go fast and determined, not alone and there are security cameras and G4s people along the way to make sure things are going ok. The shops are all closed by 6pm so then there's really no reason to go out after that as Mowbray consists of largely banks and hairdressers, but it's still annoying to be trapped inside every night from dusk. If we want to go into town it's taxi to and from, because catching a bus or minibus taxi after hours, no-no.

In addition to the safety issues that are shaping our lives, other little things start emerging, as one might argue, slightly exagerated behavioural patterns. For a starters there are, or have been, loads of coachroaches which is not my favourite animal per se. I've developed routines for opening the fridge (followed by a little backwards jump, in case of falling pests. This was a big problem the first few weeks, they'd drop out of the fridge every time one opened the door. Eeeww!), going to the toilet (always check behind door and around the seat for coachroaches. Again, used to be a bigger problem in the start, but not so much anymore. I had a nasty experience in Esquintla when sleeping in a room with Tonje Camilla, Morten and Andreas. As I went to the loo I noticed a giganormous coachroach half a meter in front of me. I was stunned and quitely removed myself from the bathroom in hope the monster wouldn't follow me to my bed. Needless to say, not a good night's sleep), going to bed (always shake pillow and doona, you never know what bugs might use it as a day time holiday place). But except for these little things reminding me that I'm not safe and sound in Norway, thing are going exceptionally well, and I can always comfort myself with the thought that I'll be home shortly.