February 12, 2007, 10:35 pm

There is a pretty good chance that I will get fat in South Africa-- and go completely insane. In the past week or so I have only been alone outside the walls, gates, locks, alarms of my house twice-- once when I insisted that I would take the UCT shuttle service home instead of having my roommmate Shoo-Shoo chauffeur me back and forth as he has been kind enough to do each day. He asked me sincerely, "Are you sure? It's no problem". It was a wonderful gesture but I told him "No, I must--if not today, then when?" He seemed more uncertain than me, or at least that's what I like to think he saw in my face.
The second time was this past Saturday when I went jogging in my neighborhood-- and by neighborhood I literally mean a 2-3 block radius outside my house. When I told one of the other students in my department that I went jogging, she literally gasped. I can't say that I wasn't a bit proud of that.
If you thought the obesity problem in the US was bad, it seems we are luckier than we think. Not only do South Africans have to contend with the trend of sedentary modern living but it seems that recreation spaces have either in actuality become havens for muggers or at least become so in the popular imagination. In a recent article I read in a South African magazine, various statistics were listed about the muggings reported last year on Table Mountain, as well as rapes and attacks reported in parks—reinforcing this fear and encouraging group exercise as a solution. In the US, finding a workout buddy is simply a good way of motivating you to get off the couch, while in South Africa your running buddy might not only improve your health but save your life.
A staggering 50% of SA women are obese or overweight—but as I’ve seen with many other detrimental effects of crime, the effects ripple throughout society like Homer Simpson’s belly. The women who live mostly in the safety of their homes or make plans with their friends in malls where the fried food flows, also confine their children to these spaces. It’s not a big leap to the next conclusion—frightening numbers of children with type-2 diabetes.
So prior to this "run"--if you can even call me jogging in tiny circles, constantly looking over my should for the boogie-man, a "run"-- I was literally jumping rope each day in my back patio area. I love Rocky just as much as the next guy but my calves were bleeping killing me!
I couldn't take it anymore-- physically and psychologically. I set out to go for a jog. I made sure my roommates were awake and knew where I was. I didn't take my ipod. I just had my keys and the mace keychain to listen to jingling in my pocket. I was reminded of a clever idea that my mom had when we used to live in the city-- my brother could only ride his bike around the block as long as he rang the buzzer at each pass but I wonder sometimes about those excruciating stretches of time between doorbells. Still, this wasn't a solution for me. My mother was an ocean away and I had to face this alone, one foot in front of the other.
I started to jog. The neighbor's dog began barking at me. Then the next house's dog, and the next after that. Soon the whole neighborhood was like a kennel at feeding time. The domestic workers and construction workers that are a fixture in this ever expanding suburb were lying in the shade on the side of the road and eyed me suspiciously. I eyed them back. I even turned back a few times to make sure I wasn't being followed. On the second round, I tried a new approach-- I smiled. This was met with a mixture of curiosity and cautiousness in their faces. On the final round, I up'd the ante and decided to wave. Success! They smiled or tipped their head.
I can't say it was my fastest or longest jog. I certainly didn't cover much ground but my heart rate (especially on that first loop) was definitely up. So perhaps it wasn't my best run, but it was one of the braver runs I've completed.
When people asked me what I would miss from home, what they could send in a care package or tell me about through emails-- I really never imagined it would be these seemingly ordinarly freedoms that I would crave the most.
I'm still adjusting-- I have hope that I will get better at negotiating this paradise filled with landmines.
Until then, I'm looking for a running buddy.

UPDATE: February 20, 2007: I've joined the UCT Running Club and have been running with two lovely ladies, Nikki and Marion-- who have shown me some great routes. Still, I think I'll venture out every once in a while... to entertain the neighborhood dogs.