End of KwaZulu-Natal Schools Festival at Hilton
Travel to Vanderbijlpark, riding shotgun with Ilana.- or Illama as she is now affectionately known- behind the wheel. In telling me of her hometown, Stellenbosch (famous wine region, "very white"), she told me the story of how she and her best friend from childhood (the housemaid’s daughter) were unable to go to the same primary school during the apartheid era so her mother, started up a secret garage school for mixed race education. Ilana’s mum would go and collect students from the township each morning. And bring them back to the garage school for some thorough home-schooling. When they went to high school, Ilana and her best friend parted ways – apparently it was/is typical of Stellenbosch socialisaton that one mostly hangs out with the one ‘type’ of people (or colour). Indeed, it is possibly still true of a large part of the population, this lack of ‘mixing’. The theatre world, and Ubom especially, is an exception, far from the rule.
Another great story Ilana told me was of a tour Ubom did a couple of years ago. They were travelling with a broken left indicator, knowingly. When they were pulled over by police, they feigned surprise at the faulty indicator and set about pretending to try and make it work. As they did, they began singing some Xhosa songs that they performed in some of their shows. The Xhosa police were so entertained by the Afrikaan’s Ilana and the Sri Lankan intern travelling with the company singing in Xhosa, that the group were let off with only a warning.
The following year, touring again, the company was stopped at a road block, when the same too Xhosa police came running towards them and jumped into the combie, saying “It’s you again, we knew it!!” and asking them to sing for them again. Very sweet story.
In the afternoon, we arrived at the Africa guesthouse located amidst a small suburb of Greek street names (from Olympus to Cassandra, Hector and to Cyclopsweg). All of us girls shared a cosy little flat. I’d had some joy at the local shops locating soy milk and dairy-free margarine. So first thing, a coffee! I had almost cried at the third coffee-house I tried along our road trip that said they didn’t have soy milk. Now instant coffee never tasted so good.
We had a later start to look forward to in the morning = sleep-in= party time. The boy’s flat had a pool table so naturally that was the choice party venue. However, we soon leant that the balls had been stolen by previous guests, so the only logical solution was to play drinking games instead.
We had a later start to look forward to in the morning = sleep-in= party time. The boy’s flat had a pool table so naturally that was the choice party venue. However, we soon leant that the balls had been stolen by previous guests, so the only logical solution was to play drinking games instead.
I won* the Circle of Death, which meant I got to drink the Kings cup! (*lost)
The circle of death...
Winner!!!
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