And Then Kurt Cobain Came On…

That was the moment I fell in love with South Africa and its ability to still appreciate Nirvana so much that it would be blended into a techno mix. To really understand how I came to this moment though, I must start with the journey from earlier in the day. So much has happened in the last week but last Saturday set up for my Sunday and my Monday, which was my first day of work. It all started with Lisa. Lisa became my first friend here in Johannesburg. She is from Vancouver and is taking a year to travel the world to celebrate finishing her masters. Aside from school and travel, our personalities meshed well immediately and she is close to my age.

As we were sitting with a glass of wine on Friday, I asked, well told Lisa that she was going to venture to Sophiatown with me and look at an apartment. Her being as clueless as me about where we were headed, I figured it would be a fantastic journey.

We decided that we would get a cab there and then test our signing skills with the taxi buses for the trip back to the hostel. We arrived at the house. It had three bedrooms and I was going to let (rent) one of them for three months. It was located near a shopping center but getting to work could prove to be difficult.

I called Frankie, my contact at the house, and told him I had arrived. Soon, Frankie, this college student from Cameroon appeared to open the gate and show us the room. He laughed at how an American and a Canadian got to Sophiatown. Frankie is currently trying to get a VISA for the United States. He has been denied twice already.

I enjoyed the house but by the time we made it downtown, I realized this was not a trip I could make every day. Frankie said he would go downtown with us. He wanted to ensure we made it to the second taxi bus safely and were not told the wrong one. We were so thankful he did.

Once we signed for a taxibus and were in one, we then organized the money. There was no one in the taxi when we jumped in so we took places in the front seats. The person in the front seat is responsible for taking the money of the other passengers and distributing their change. Lisa and I were not aware until people started piling in. We handled our responsibility as best we could while continuing our conversation with Frankie.

By the time we arrived to our spot near Market St. downtown, our taxi bus was packed. I didn’t think about it because I was mesmerized with what I saw around me. We arrived at our spot, hopped out into the chaos of downtown and then Frankie directed us to our next ride. He insisted that he stay until we were on the taxi and moving. It wasn’t that he wanted something, he just was making sure that guests of his were safe and taken care of.

As we stepped into the next taxi, it then became evident of how packed our previous taxi bus was. I got a look from a woman that said, “Get your ass all the way back there!” When I looked at the back seat, I saw room for three. What I thought was space for three small South Africans was really space for four any size people. Four were going to fit there no matter what. I wish I had brought my Crisco.

There were Lisa and I, squeezed together in the back of this minibus, when we heard that we were not going to the right side of the town we needed to get to. Thankfully I had knowledge that she did not.
As we sat down in our small seat, a bedazzled jacket owning, sunglasses larger than my head wearing, gold lame purse carrying man sat down next to us. I had elected him our new tour guide and we were going to figure out how to get to where we needed to.

We chatted, and when I said we needed to get to Jan Smuts, he gasped and said. “Oh sweetie. I’ll get you two there. Don’t worry”

As we traveled, I learned that he had moved to Johannesburg from Durbin for fashion design. This was his stepping-stone to get to New York. I found it humorous because I feel that almost everyone, even the ones who have nothing, look fashionable. I am intimidated by it. I only hope he sees this for himself and finds the opportunity in that.

We arrived at our destination and we began walking into an outdoor shopping center. We just trusted this man was taking care of us. His phone rang, and with the precision of Samantha from Sex in the City, exclaimed, “Girl, I am going to drop my bag off with you and walk these Americans to where they need to be!”

As we followed him through the mall, and answered all of his questions about our voyage, I was amazed at how he made this space his own New York. He guided us to the restaurant, set his bag down, introduced us to his friend and then guided us to the street we needed to be, Jan Smuts. There we said our good-byes, took a picture and exchanged phone numbers. I may never hear from him again, but in that moment, he was our guardian angel.

Lisa and I returned to the hostel where Patrick from Switzerland was waiting for something to do. We then sat with him and after Ian from Australia had his say, we planned to go to the pub down the street. That quickly changed and after a lot of wine and beer, and two games of pool at the hostel, we were in the area of Greenside dancing and doing Jager-bombs at a price of 4 for 80 rand. This equals out to about $2 a shot. That is how we got to Kurt Cobain.

The pub, or what I would call a club, we were at had about 200 people in it of every sort. I was in heaven. Anyone who knows me slightly well knows that my two favorite places to be are a movie theatre and a crowded dance floor with people just dancing and having fun with no other intentions but to dance. Hearing the words to “Come as You Are” filled my body and I danced, looked into my surroundings and knew I was where I was suppose to be; Sweaty, drunk, and dancing my butt off at a random pub in Johannesburg. I only wish the next few days were as Euphoric as that moment.