“Cape Town doesn’t have a culture.”
“What!?” I thought, the first time I heard that, just after moving to Cape Town a decade ago. “Not true, surely?”
Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard it again since then. What people probably mean when they say that, is that the city has so many cultural influences that it’s hard to pinpoint a single, homogenous one. It’s the South African city with the longest history of mixing up the largest number of different cultural groups – so the flavour of the place is about as layered as a good Malay curry. And it’s tres different from Jozi or Durbs or PE or... erm... Pofadder.
You get it... it’s got the lingering blood of Khoisan, the descendents of East Indian slaves, Dutch colonists, French outcasts, British settlers, migrating Xhosa... each bringing their genes, food, language and slant on life.
People say it’s an un-African city. With that comes the sometimes not-so-subtle insinuation that Cape Town is the least transformed city. Unfair, I say, but more of that later in the blog.
Cape Town is what it is... and these pages should capture some of its multi-colour.
Like so many Capetonians, I’m an economic migrant from the Eastern Cape. I moved to the Mother City looking for work. Luckily I found it... but I also found the South Easter, wet winters, summer fires, fynbos, The Lion (what the regulars call Lion’s Head), wine that ruined my palate for the ordinary, a peculiar propensity for removing two or more front teeth, The Big Issue, the biggest urban gap between rich and poor anywhere in the world, the North Wester, snoek, expensive restaurants, a whole bunch of aging lefties, loads of pink, Lavender Hill and Camps Bay, prancing schmodels, The Boerewors Curtain, Gatsbies, MMmmmmmo'brayKAAAAAAAAAP, smilies, The Argus (the bicycle race, not the newspaper; but come to think of it, let’s include the paper, too), and, of course, The Mountain.
I heard someone on Cape Talk (non-Capetonians, that’s our local talk radio) say something about how Jo’burg people don’t have “that mountain” to distract them from a good, honest day’s work. True... but by golly, you’ve got to love that distraction.
So... this blog is about discovering and rediscovering the city. A decade after moving here, there are plenty of things I have done: tasted the best wines, visited the Jewish museum and the gold museum, listened to Princess Leonie – gotta love that name – from Boo! cranking it out at The Shack, watched the sun rise over Cape Town from the top of The Lion, walked the peninsula along the full length of its spine, had a snoek braai...
There’re a whole lot of other things I haven’t done yet: eaten a Gatsby (she says, shifting nervously at the thought of half a truckload of carbs crammed to the gills with a sauce made with meat cuts of indeterminate origin), visited Robben Island (I know, so utterly shocking that I’m reluctant to mention it here, but in the interests of transparency feel I must; flog me now), eaten cupcakes at Charly’s Bakery (it’s a gods-damned institution, I’m told)... and the list goes on.
And this is the birth of The List: a cultural audit of the places and spaces that make Cape Town so utterly unique. It’s not so much about tying up loose ends, so much as it’s about finally making this place home.
Think I can call myself a true Capetonian now? Think I’ve earned my stripes? If not now, by the end of it I’d better have done!
Join me... it’s gonna be a jol.
Leonie J
