As the weather rapidly turns icy, I find myself faced with the same annual dilemma: what does one wear in 9 degree weather to keep warm and still look good? Last night, for example, I went out with some friends. We planned on watching the rugby and then heading to Friars for a good jam. Plans made, I headed back to my room and flung open my cupboard. Only then did it hit me: what on earth should I wear?
You see, the dynamics of choosing an outfit in winter are complicated. First of all, the rugby. The game would be outside (duh), so I knew there would be a freezing wind blowing and I should wrap up warm. On the other hand, Friars is always hot inside so wearing a thick jersey would be out of the question. As would a coat, as dancing in knee-length polyester or a bulky fur-lined jacket is not possible. Well, not without looking like the Michelin Man anyway. Thus, I found myself torn: should I freeze at the rugby? Or boil over at Friars?
Ultimately, my hair made the decision for me. I have been blessed with hair that, when exposed to heat and humidity, rapidly turns into a gigantic frizzy afro/hat. However, in cold or dry weather it is more likely to behave itself. And so, in order to preserve my dignity and prevent myself from looking like a brunette Ronald McDonald, I decided to brave the cold winds and wear tights, a long-sleeved shirt and flat boots. I lasted all of half an hour at the match before giving in and sprinting to the warmth of the Union. On the other hand, I survived quite comfortably in Friars. In short, I have decided that watching rugby matches and going out to clubs should not occur on the same night, unless one is willing to trek home and change outfits in between the two. Which one (well, this one at least) is usually not willing to do, because going home while still drunk is considered to be an epic fail of a night.
What seems unfair is that guys don't have to undergo the same dilemma. They toss on a pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt and a hoodie, and voila! Outfit sorted. When they reach the warmth of Friars, off comes the hoodie to be tied around his waist. Somehow this just doesn't look as unattractive on guys as it does on girls, so they can get away with it (of course, that's just my opinion).
I often think life would have been easier as a guy. Outfits are simpler, no concerns about period or labour pains, fights are sorted out with fists rather than catty comments...their worlds are simpler in general. Although considering my height and general appearance, I think I'd be a very unattractive boy; a Justin-Bieber type male. And most likely gay. I simply cannot imagine being attracted to females.
...OK this post has gone WAY off my original point. I'm going to end now before it gets any more decidedly weird. Maybe I still have some of last night's alcohol in my system...that would explain a lot.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
And so it begins...
It's official: Old Man Winter has arrived in Gtown. As a KZN girl, I am accustomed to throwing on the odd hoodie during winter, and perhaps a scarf on the really cold days (you know, when the temperature drops below 25 degrees). Having been home for the Easter weekend, I had once more become used to tottering around the house in a mini skirt and thin jersey without feeling the slightest chill. When we arrived back at Rhodes yesterday afternoon, we were greeted with the coldest wind I have felt in a loooong time, and a temperature of 10 degrees Celsius. Guess who was still wearing her mini skirt? I think my legs are still numb today.
Naturally, after a long day of travelling, I thought that a lovely hot shower would be a good way to warm up my chilly body. I distributed my toiletries around the bathroom, switched on the taps, tossed my clothes onto the hook on the back of the door and stuck one hand into the spray to wait for the warmth.
And waited.
And waited.
After five minutes of miserable, naked shivering I finally concluded that my hot shower was not going to happen. I didn't have the courage to immerse myself in that freezing dowpour, and so I flicked the taps off again, wrapped myself in my towel and shivered my way down the corridor, making disgruntled and threatening sounds under my breath. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I ended up trying to wash myself in my bedroom sink, using water I had boiled in my kettle. Such is the student life.
Thankfully the hot water had returned this morning, as I don't think I could go through another sink-bathing session. Unfortunately, the cold wind had returned too. According to the Rhodes website, the temperature at the moment - at 11:39am - is 15 degrees. Personally, I'm pretty sure it's colder than that. As soon as I got back to my room after lectures I switched on my heater and my kettle. Before even putting down my bag. Now I'm sitting here with my windows shut, my heater on full, my scarf still wrapped around my neck and my easily-chilled feet snugly encased in calf-high boots. And guess what? My nose is still numb. I'm actually holding a mug of tea against it to try and warm it up.
I don't know what it is about me but as soon as there is the slightest hint of cold wind, all my extremities go numb. Fingers, toes, and especially my nose, which has a habit of turning bright pink to match my rosy, chilled cheeks. Thank heavens I'm not male or my chances of procreating would have disappeared with the first Grahamstown winter.
In order to overcome these numb extremities, I have come up with a business proposal. I am going to knit - and sell - nose-warmers. In case you can't picture it, imagine a tiny knitted hat that would fit over one's nose, with an elastic to go around one's head and hold it on. Yes, they would look ridiculous. BUT if I knit them in neon colours and convince JayJays to endorse them, I'm willing to bet they'll quickly become a huge trend amongst Rhodes students. Not only will we all look ridiculous together, but we'll also have the most colourful campus in South Africa during the winter months. And my numb-nose-issue will be a thing of the past. It's a win-win situation for all!
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and find somewhere that sells neon coloured wool.
Naturally, after a long day of travelling, I thought that a lovely hot shower would be a good way to warm up my chilly body. I distributed my toiletries around the bathroom, switched on the taps, tossed my clothes onto the hook on the back of the door and stuck one hand into the spray to wait for the warmth.
And waited.
And waited.
After five minutes of miserable, naked shivering I finally concluded that my hot shower was not going to happen. I didn't have the courage to immerse myself in that freezing dowpour, and so I flicked the taps off again, wrapped myself in my towel and shivered my way down the corridor, making disgruntled and threatening sounds under my breath. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I ended up trying to wash myself in my bedroom sink, using water I had boiled in my kettle. Such is the student life.
Thankfully the hot water had returned this morning, as I don't think I could go through another sink-bathing session. Unfortunately, the cold wind had returned too. According to the Rhodes website, the temperature at the moment - at 11:39am - is 15 degrees. Personally, I'm pretty sure it's colder than that. As soon as I got back to my room after lectures I switched on my heater and my kettle. Before even putting down my bag. Now I'm sitting here with my windows shut, my heater on full, my scarf still wrapped around my neck and my easily-chilled feet snugly encased in calf-high boots. And guess what? My nose is still numb. I'm actually holding a mug of tea against it to try and warm it up.
I don't know what it is about me but as soon as there is the slightest hint of cold wind, all my extremities go numb. Fingers, toes, and especially my nose, which has a habit of turning bright pink to match my rosy, chilled cheeks. Thank heavens I'm not male or my chances of procreating would have disappeared with the first Grahamstown winter.
In order to overcome these numb extremities, I have come up with a business proposal. I am going to knit - and sell - nose-warmers. In case you can't picture it, imagine a tiny knitted hat that would fit over one's nose, with an elastic to go around one's head and hold it on. Yes, they would look ridiculous. BUT if I knit them in neon colours and convince JayJays to endorse them, I'm willing to bet they'll quickly become a huge trend amongst Rhodes students. Not only will we all look ridiculous together, but we'll also have the most colourful campus in South Africa during the winter months. And my numb-nose-issue will be a thing of the past. It's a win-win situation for all!
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and find somewhere that sells neon coloured wool.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
1 in 9 Silent Protest
"72 500 rapes were reported in South Africa last year. Only 1 in 9 rapes were reported to the police and of those only 4% were successfully prosecuted. My silence affirms my solidarity with survivors silenced by rape and sexual violence. Freedom of Speech is denied to victims of sexual violence. I call on all men to break the cycle of sexual violence."
- Message on 2011 Silent Protest T-shirt
Seeing as this blog is (or at least claims to be) about life as a Rhodes student, I thought I would break away from my normal joking/playful posts and say a bit about the 1 in 9 Silent Protest that took place at Rhodes on 15 April 2011. For those of you who do not know about 1 in 9, it is a movement against sexual violence and rape. The focus of the campaign is the fact that so many women - and indeed men - are too ashamed or afraid to speak out about the sexual violence or abuse that they have undergone. Participation can be in one of four forms:
Surprisingly, not eating and drinking was not as difficult as I'd expected. The tape was distinctly uncomfortable, and being unable to communicate made lectures and tutorials far more difficult than usual. As someone who rarely shuts up, I found it strange to have to keep my thoughts to myself throughout the day.
At midday a "die-in" was held in the library quad. Similar to the "sit-ins" staged in many protests, this consisted of the protestors lying, silent and unmoving, in the quad for about an hour. For me, this was the most challenging part of the entire process. I had forgotten to bring a jersey and the concrete floor was freezing cold. I closed my eyes, feeling tired, hungry and miserable, and tried to focus on the reasons that I was taking part in this protest.
What are those reasons, you may ask? I have no direct or personal experience with rape or sexual abuse; I have not undergone it and none of my friends or family have told me that they have undergone it. But during the protest last year I saw one of the girls from my res wearing a rape survivor shirt. I was shocked and horrified that such a beautiful, bubbly and fun girl had been through such a hellish experience, and to realise that someone you know has been raped changes it from an abstract idea into a real and terrifying prospect. It was because of her that I decided to take part this year.
At the end of the day a march was performed down High Street to the cathedral, where the silence was broken and we were allowed to remove the tape. One girl stood up to speak. She told us that she had been a silence protestor all day, but that now she was ready to tell people that she was actually a rape survivor who had been too afraid to speak out. The storm of applause that greeted her words just went to show that all the support she needed was right there.
- Message on 2011 Silent Protest T-shirt
Seeing as this blog is (or at least claims to be) about life as a Rhodes student, I thought I would break away from my normal joking/playful posts and say a bit about the 1 in 9 Silent Protest that took place at Rhodes on 15 April 2011. For those of you who do not know about 1 in 9, it is a movement against sexual violence and rape. The focus of the campaign is the fact that so many women - and indeed men - are too ashamed or afraid to speak out about the sexual violence or abuse that they have undergone. Participation can be in one of four forms:
- Rape survivors: these brave women wear T-shirts telling the world that they are rape survivors who have spoken out, and encourage other survivors to do the same.
- Silent protestors: these female participants wear T-shirts explaining about the protest. They have their mouths sealed with duct tape at the beginning of the day, and have to spend 12 hours without speaking, drinking or eating to show solidarity with those who are silenced by rape.
- Men in solidarity: male participants wear T-shirts explaining about the protest and encouraging other men to speak out about rape and to stop the cycle of sexual violence.
- Women in solidarity: femal lecturers who cannot be silenced for a day or students with health problems wear T-shirts similar to the men in solidarity.
Surprisingly, not eating and drinking was not as difficult as I'd expected. The tape was distinctly uncomfortable, and being unable to communicate made lectures and tutorials far more difficult than usual. As someone who rarely shuts up, I found it strange to have to keep my thoughts to myself throughout the day.
At the end of the day a march was performed down High Street to the cathedral, where the silence was broken and we were allowed to remove the tape. One girl stood up to speak. She told us that she had been a silence protestor all day, but that now she was ready to tell people that she was actually a rape survivor who had been too afraid to speak out. The storm of applause that greeted her words just went to show that all the support she needed was right there.
Those of you who know me well also know that I am not generally a sensitive or empathetic person. Photos of starving children in Northern Africa rouse no emotions in me. But to sit in a room full of people and hear these brave women speaking about the horrors of rape, and how they had managed to survive the ordeal, affected me in ways that I never thought it would. I am proud to have taken part in the protest this year, and I encourage all Rhodes students to take part next year.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Operation Kick-Ass (it's not what you expect)
Today, I heard a rather strange conversation between a guy and a girl...
Guy: "Ladies first."
Girl: "No, you go first."
Guy: "I'm being polite, you go first!"
...and so on. Why does this warrant a blog post? Well, let me put it in context. This conversation was going on in the rather narrow main doorway to GLT (a lecture theatre). My lecture was due to start inside in five minutes. Oh, and did I mention it was raining? So while the 'cute couple' flirtatiously tried to convince each other to go in first, a group of disgruntled law students stood on the stairs in the rain. If I was a crueller - and more confident - person, the situation would have been something like this:
Guy: "Ladies first."
Girl: "No, you go first."
Guy: "I'm being polite, you go first!"
Tayla: "Excuse me? I can see that you two have some issues to work out. I know it's a scary experience, but going through a door first can be surprisingly easy. Watch..." (walks through door) "OMG! I'm still alive!"
Instead I mumbled a very grumpy "excuse me" and pushed them both out of the way. I realise that this makes me sound like a rather rude person, but I've honestly had enough of inconsiderate people like that. Did they seriously not realise that about ten people were waiting to go into the lecture theatre?? Flirt somewhere else, you annoyingly cute couple.
And before people start telling me that I'm just a bitter singleton (which I am, but that's irrelevant :P), let me point out another scenario from today. I was in a hurry after my French lecture because, well, it was lunch and I hadn't eaten since 7am. Of course it wasjust my luck that I happened to end up behind another happy couple on the stairs. Now this stairway is about 1.5 or 2m wide. Neither of the partners were particularly fat. But somehow they managed to take up the ENTIRE space while jostling, laughing and tickling each other. And as they were clearly both enjoying spending time with each other, they were in no rush to get down the stairs. In their heads, "I'm walking on sunshine" merrily rang out while they playfully pushed each other back and forth. Behind them, a funeral dirge would have been more appropriate to enhance the irritated French students trudging down the stairs at a snail's pace behind them.
However fret not, for I have come up with a solution to this problem. If someone is walking slowly in front of you - be they male, female or a lovingly entwined couple - just give them a good boot up the backside. I guarantee it'll get them moving faster. Especially if it's on a staircase; if you kick hard enough, they'll probably make it to the bottom long before anyone else. Make it fun; ten points if they bounce at the bottom! Fifteen points if they slide into the open lecture theatre door! Twenty points if they slide into a closed lecture theatre door!
I think it'll be effective. If someone gave me a kick in the ass, I'm pretty sure I'd walk faster. Or kick them back. Either way, corridors are about to get a whole lot more entertaining.
Guy: "Ladies first."
Girl: "No, you go first."
Guy: "I'm being polite, you go first!"
...and so on. Why does this warrant a blog post? Well, let me put it in context. This conversation was going on in the rather narrow main doorway to GLT (a lecture theatre). My lecture was due to start inside in five minutes. Oh, and did I mention it was raining? So while the 'cute couple' flirtatiously tried to convince each other to go in first, a group of disgruntled law students stood on the stairs in the rain. If I was a crueller - and more confident - person, the situation would have been something like this:
Guy: "Ladies first."
Girl: "No, you go first."
Guy: "I'm being polite, you go first!"
Tayla: "Excuse me? I can see that you two have some issues to work out. I know it's a scary experience, but going through a door first can be surprisingly easy. Watch..." (walks through door) "OMG! I'm still alive!"
Instead I mumbled a very grumpy "excuse me" and pushed them both out of the way. I realise that this makes me sound like a rather rude person, but I've honestly had enough of inconsiderate people like that. Did they seriously not realise that about ten people were waiting to go into the lecture theatre?? Flirt somewhere else, you annoyingly cute couple.
And before people start telling me that I'm just a bitter singleton (which I am, but that's irrelevant :P), let me point out another scenario from today. I was in a hurry after my French lecture because, well, it was lunch and I hadn't eaten since 7am. Of course it wasjust my luck that I happened to end up behind another happy couple on the stairs. Now this stairway is about 1.5 or 2m wide. Neither of the partners were particularly fat. But somehow they managed to take up the ENTIRE space while jostling, laughing and tickling each other. And as they were clearly both enjoying spending time with each other, they were in no rush to get down the stairs. In their heads, "I'm walking on sunshine" merrily rang out while they playfully pushed each other back and forth. Behind them, a funeral dirge would have been more appropriate to enhance the irritated French students trudging down the stairs at a snail's pace behind them.
However fret not, for I have come up with a solution to this problem. If someone is walking slowly in front of you - be they male, female or a lovingly entwined couple - just give them a good boot up the backside. I guarantee it'll get them moving faster. Especially if it's on a staircase; if you kick hard enough, they'll probably make it to the bottom long before anyone else. Make it fun; ten points if they bounce at the bottom! Fifteen points if they slide into the open lecture theatre door! Twenty points if they slide into a closed lecture theatre door!
I think it'll be effective. If someone gave me a kick in the ass, I'm pretty sure I'd walk faster. Or kick them back. Either way, corridors are about to get a whole lot more entertaining.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The triumphant return!
I'll admit that the title of this post may be slightly misleading. There was nothing particularly triumphant about us arriving in Grahamstown, hot, sweaty and bored from the 9 hour car trip. On the bright side, the car had an aircon. Had I taken a bus instead, I would have been trapped in an airless box scented with body odour for well over nine hours, so I suppose I got the better deal. I miss the days of flying though :( Ever since Kalula increased their flight rates, my parents have been unable to afford plane tickets and my sister and I had to make the long and arduous car journey home at the end of the term. It's not fun.
What made this particular journey worse was one of the other young men in the car with us. Now I know that male students are stereotyped as rather irresponsible and idiotic, but I had always thought this to be a slight overexaggeration. However, this particular passenger proved me wrong. Apparently he had spent the night before having a wild mare with his friends, during which he finished a bottle of Captain Morgan rum. An entire damn BOTTLE. The night before he was due to go on a nine hour car trip. Who in their right mind does that?? Did it not once occur to him that the alcohol might, you know, lead to a hangover from HELL? For the record, we had to stop three times in the first hour so that he could throw up on the side of the road. Fun.
But at least I'm back where I belong, safe and sound :) As soon as I got back into res, I took a lovely refreshing shower and spent an hour or so running around res saying hi to friends. Then, rather than suffering through a default meal in the dining hall, I had supper with a friend in digs (I didn't know he could cook; it was an eye-opening experience :P ). Overall, it feels awesome to be back, even though exams start in two months' time. That's future Tayla's problem. For now, I can only wonder what interesting events lie in the term ahead...
What made this particular journey worse was one of the other young men in the car with us. Now I know that male students are stereotyped as rather irresponsible and idiotic, but I had always thought this to be a slight overexaggeration. However, this particular passenger proved me wrong. Apparently he had spent the night before having a wild mare with his friends, during which he finished a bottle of Captain Morgan rum. An entire damn BOTTLE. The night before he was due to go on a nine hour car trip. Who in their right mind does that?? Did it not once occur to him that the alcohol might, you know, lead to a hangover from HELL? For the record, we had to stop three times in the first hour so that he could throw up on the side of the road. Fun.
But at least I'm back where I belong, safe and sound :) As soon as I got back into res, I took a lovely refreshing shower and spent an hour or so running around res saying hi to friends. Then, rather than suffering through a default meal in the dining hall, I had supper with a friend in digs (I didn't know he could cook; it was an eye-opening experience :P ). Overall, it feels awesome to be back, even though exams start in two months' time. That's future Tayla's problem. For now, I can only wonder what interesting events lie in the term ahead...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Au revoir, first term!
And so, as the first term of my second year draws to a close, I find myself vacuuming my room and cleaning my basin in preparation for vac. Luckily this term we aren't required to pack up our rooms, so my bag is MUCH lighter than usual and my 'packing' took me all of an hour to finish. Now I'm bored and waiting for my final laundry load to finish drying.
When I think about the past term, I can't say anything in particular stands out. Well, other than how fast it passed that is. Before I know it I'm going to be graduating and entering the scary REAL adult world! (Yes I know lecturers tell us that we're adults now, but they're lying). I have no desire to leave university; I'm perfectly happy here. Except for exams. Those can go. Which, incidentally, is why I'm choosing to look back at the past term and not forward to the coming exam term :/ it is not something I'm looking forward to. Especially considering my terrifying timetable (three exams in three days?? EEEEK!)
Sorry, I'm digressing again. The point of this post was to point out the pointlessness of packing up one's room. (I apologise for the repetition of 'point' in that sentence. I only realised now that I'd done that). I understand that using the residences as hotel-type-things during conventions in vac brings money into the university, but is that extra money really needed? OK maybe it is. I wouldn't know. I haven't exactly examined the university ledgers. But it takes me one full afternoon to pack up all the crap that I manage to accumulate through a term, and is that really time well-spent? I mean, I could have spent that afternoon studying or doing assignments or writing up summaries for exams. (Not that I would, but it would be nice to have the option). One of my friends takes TWO days to pack up her room. Now compare that to the hour it took me to pack my bag this afternoon. Pointless? You betcha.
But I suppose in the end I should just be grateful that I'm getting to go home :D many of my friends are stuck in Grahamstown for vac, and I can't say that sounds like a fantastic way to spend a holiday. I've missed my family - even though my mom and brother are away this vac - and most of all I've missed my cat! (Don't tell my family I said that). It may be a short vac, but I reckon it's going to be just the break I need before hitting the horrible stress of exams. Home, here I come!
Well, home here I come tomorrow. Same difference.
When I think about the past term, I can't say anything in particular stands out. Well, other than how fast it passed that is. Before I know it I'm going to be graduating and entering the scary REAL adult world! (Yes I know lecturers tell us that we're adults now, but they're lying). I have no desire to leave university; I'm perfectly happy here. Except for exams. Those can go. Which, incidentally, is why I'm choosing to look back at the past term and not forward to the coming exam term :/ it is not something I'm looking forward to. Especially considering my terrifying timetable (three exams in three days?? EEEEK!)
Sorry, I'm digressing again. The point of this post was to point out the pointlessness of packing up one's room. (I apologise for the repetition of 'point' in that sentence. I only realised now that I'd done that). I understand that using the residences as hotel-type-things during conventions in vac brings money into the university, but is that extra money really needed? OK maybe it is. I wouldn't know. I haven't exactly examined the university ledgers. But it takes me one full afternoon to pack up all the crap that I manage to accumulate through a term, and is that really time well-spent? I mean, I could have spent that afternoon studying or doing assignments or writing up summaries for exams. (Not that I would, but it would be nice to have the option). One of my friends takes TWO days to pack up her room. Now compare that to the hour it took me to pack my bag this afternoon. Pointless? You betcha.
But I suppose in the end I should just be grateful that I'm getting to go home :D many of my friends are stuck in Grahamstown for vac, and I can't say that sounds like a fantastic way to spend a holiday. I've missed my family - even though my mom and brother are away this vac - and most of all I've missed my cat! (Don't tell my family I said that). It may be a short vac, but I reckon it's going to be just the break I need before hitting the horrible stress of exams. Home, here I come!
Well, home here I come tomorrow. Same difference.
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