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Published: July 27th 2008
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2 Way Travel sent us an e-mail saying that they offered a student discount with a local shark diving company for the weekend of July 26, and that sign ups were limited to a first come, first serve basis. I signed up right away; excited about the possibility of coming face to face with something that could bite my head off. Unless you come into contact with a log splitter on a daily basis, this opportunity doesn’t happen too often.
Additionally, I checked McDonald’s South Africa website and found a McDonald’s location downtown near Green Point Stadium. While Indiana Jones will go out of his way for the Arc of the Covenant or Popeye will go out of his way for a can of spinach, I took the UCT student shuttle into town and walked nearly an hour to the Green Point construction site where the McDonald’s was located, just for a Mega Mac. Unfortunately, when I reached Green Point, I discovered that the McDonald’s, like the stadium, was also under construction. Now not only had I walked for an hour and faced another hour long walk back to the shuttle stop, but I still had not lunch. When I finally got back to my apartment, I went on McDonald’s website and discovered that there was a McDonald’s in Cavendish, about a 20 minute walk from my apartment in a neighboring suburb. After playing Frogger with the traffic, I reached the McDonald’s and ordered the abominable snowman of burgers: the Mega Mac. Ordered with a large fry and orange Fanta, and it was the perfect meal, especially following all the work I’d done to find it.
While I sat in McDonald’s enjoying my prey, a desperate looking man approached me. He was a younger pale guy with a leather jacket and a New York Yankees hat.
“Are you an American?” he asked out of breath.
I said I was.
The man wiped his mouth, as if he was meeting a celebrity for the first time, and sat down beside me.
“I’ve been looking for an American or a Canadian all day. I need your help.”
The man introduced himself as Connor, from Calgary, and said that he and his family were robbed while travelling in a mini bus taxi. The guys in the taxi stole everything from them—wallets, purses, cameras—and threatened Connor with a knife, to which Connor showed me a slit in his leather jacket near his armpit. Connor explained that him and his family were staying in Stellenbosh, which is a wine region about an hour away from Cape Town, and that they had no way to return to their hotel. By this time I’d stopped eating my Mega Mac and my heart was pounding, and not because the cholesterol was sticking to my arteries. I could tell where he was heading by telling me the story.
“Look, I’m just a student, I don’t have a lot of money and I—“
“Please, I know this is a big favor, but could you please lend us some money to buy a train ticket back to Stellenbosh?” Connor asked.
I knew it was coming, and I still was scared by his question. Out of sheer irritation and annoyance I dug out my wallet, and handed him 300 rand. I wanted him to leave and let me enjoy my food in peace.
“Thank you,” he said. I wanted him to be gone but he wasn’t done. “Alright, when I get to the bank I’ll get 90 US dollars to pay you back.”
He talked so fast that I couldn’t follow him, but he told me to meet him at the Rondebosch train station at 6 o’clock that night so he could pay me back. I nodded and nodded, and he thanked me, and left into the streets of Cavendish.
My mind was a traffic jam of thoughts as I walked back to my apartment. I finished the Mega Mac but couldn’t enjoy it because of Connor. I just handed a complete stranger 300 rand without hesitating. I’d like to say I was embracing my inner Mother Teresa, but I was irritated. Did I really want to meet him at the train station? 90 US dollars was worth approximately 630 rand, since the average exchange rate at the time fluctuated around 7 rand to 1 USD, so I was being handsomely rewarded for my good faith, but did I trust Connor? His mannerisms seemed honest, and his voice seemed rushed and flustered, but something inside me kept hoisting a red flag.
So I debated myself in my room that afternoon. 2 o’clock turned to 3, and 3 turned to 4. I ate dinner around 5, and my mind continued swashbuckling back and forth about what to do. At 5:30, I set out for the train station.
The station was located down a side street behind an untidy apartment complex with overgrown weeds creeping up the fences. The parking lot cement was cracked and graffiti colored the brick walls. I sat on a bench and two station employees stared at me while I waited, my heart galloping the entire time. The first train came and there was no Connor. A second train arrived about ten minutes later, and no Connor again. I went back into the parking lot and looked around. No Connor. By now the winter night had completely encompassed the city and I hurriedly made my way back to the main road to walk back to Newlands. South Africa is a little bit like I Am Legend, where you don’t want to be out alone after the sun sets, so I hustled back to my apartment.
That night I had trouble sleeping. I wanted to feel good about myself that I’d helped Connor and his family out of a horrible travel nightmare, but instead I dwelled on the uncertainty of the whole scenario. What if Connor scammed me? What if he purposely waited by the McDonald’s knowing that it was a mosquito lamp for Americans who had money and took advantage of me? I wanted to believe that I’d done the right thing, but uncertainty was the cholesterol of fear that clogged my positive brain waves.
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Julie Doppke
non-member comment
crazy
OK, just the thought of the shark coming up to your cage makes me shiver and freak out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Good luck with your great adventures!!!! love, Aunt Julie