A Bloggin' Good Time!

“My name is Ithu and I’m a closet couch potato”. That’s my confession, and in my closet it should remain. For the duration of your time at this post, you will get a sneak peak into this closet… if you dare. To be completely fair to myself, I must mention that I am not the conventional couch potato. The couch is my bed, the television is my laptop and the bag of popcorn is usually Kellogg’s Coco Pops. Nonetheless, I do believe that I display the typically lazy tendencies of a couch potato. You can therefore imagine how pleased I was to learn that the subject matter of our JMS1 fourth term coursework was blogging. Elation! Good times ahead! How demanding could a course on blogging possibly be? … I was soon to find out.

A weblog, the internet told me, is a personal online journal that is frequently updated and intended for general public consumption. Having had several journals in my life, I was confident that this would be enjoyable, and be more like play than it would be like work. Apparently I underestimated one part of the blog definition – “frequently updated” – and found that it takes more than posting necessary assignments once a week to produce a gobsmackingly amazing blog. And so the rollercoaster ride began.

Team work works! I realised this under-estimated universal truth within the first two weeks of my term as a frequent blogger. I suppose that this is my opinion because I was working with an awesome group of young journalists. Being all females, we were simply destined to succeed. Although we had all grown somewhat accustomed to working individually, our attitudes towards the subject matter helped us help each other to enjoy the work. This attitude was one of overwhelming excitement. There is something about new media that sets young minds alight with the fiery idea of limitless possibilities, which is exactly what the internet offers.

The lounging ladies that made up “Confessions of a Couch Potato” were Raisa, Karabo, Farren and me. Our ability to evenly delegate tasks and reach consensus on important debates contributed positively to the group morale and improved the ultimate product of our blog. Our story ideas were obviously all based on the guidelines given to us in our assignment instructions. We were still able to be creative in sprucing and spicing up our blog. The concept of couch potatoes sprouted from our mandate to produce a friendly, approachable blog that first years would find easy to relate to. And we all know that it doesn’t get much lazier than a first year!

Blogging falls in right there with citizen journalism. It is highly criticised and has gained much criticism from media actors who don’t consider it worthy of being labelled as a branch of journalism. I nevertheless believe that it is a wonderful form of liberalistic journalism. Blogging definitely awards the author more freedom than writing in a printed publication would. I don’t think that blogs should be placed in similar sub-categories as newspapers and magazines, simply because blogging is about the personal opinions of an author, whether biased or not, and not about hard news and factual reporting. As a result, we were given the freedom and flexibility to experiment with a relaxed form of writing that isn’t confined to the rigid structures of the JMS Style Guide. In addition to this, the topic given to us (Surviving First Year) could be handled in so many ways and addressed from so many different angles that compiling assignments was not impossibly challenging.

My favourite assignment was the profile article. For reasons unknown to earthly creatures, I enjoy interviewing people and retelling their stories through my eyes. The sources I encountered through these interviews were generally approachable and co-operative. I believe that I have developed a certain level of journalistic ability during this course that has enabled me to find tremendous ease in conducting various forms of research. It is in this manner that I feel I have most grown as a producer of media.

The nature of technology and the internet is such that there are seldom boundaries, and restrictions are minimal. For this reason, the group members may have often felt that there was something more that could be done. More done to make the blog look attractive, more widgets added, more pictures and videos incorporated with the stories, more posts written! Alas, we could not achieve it all, but we certainly put in our best efforts.

All in all, my experiences as a young blogging journalist have been without a moment of boredom. There was indeed a lot of work to be done, especially for a self-confessed couch potato such as myself, but it was eventually all worth it. I would rate my personal growth on a scale of one to ten as a seven. Now that that’s all over with, where’s the remote again?

Techno cripple, not me!

“Techno cripple” has been used to describe my inability to successfully engage technology. I grew up in a household where we were equipped with the basics to function but not at the level of the techno boffins who have wed the web. I was born in the information age but have a strong feeling that I was drastically misplaced. The point of all this is that when the amusing duo i.e. our lecturers said that the entire term would be dedicated to blogging, the walls began to close in around me and cold sweat dripped from my forehead. I immediately slipped into the fear of the unknown and could not see a way out. Then the dreaded words, “team work” and “surviving first year” skipped from the lecturer’s smiles and the walls collapsed and I was trapped under a pile of blogging rubble. It has been six weeks since I was pulled from the debris by the capable hands of my team members and now I am proud to say that “techno cripple” is no longer applicable because my group and I managed to create, “Confessions of a Crazy Couch Potato” our very own, very successful blog.

It was not all fun and games because the assignment initially seemed restricting and group work is an ominous word that seems to cut eagerness in half at its very mention. I had heard about blogging but it was part of a world that I wished to understand but could not access. In the beginning blog babble swirled around me and prevented me from attaining my usual pushy position in any group because I lacked the knowledge and expertise. So I took a humble step back and relied on my team to pull us through. Our group had conflicting interests but each brief allowed us to use the differences to our advantage because each first year experience is unique. So instead of having to push and pull until we had one solid idea all we had to do was allow our experiences to flow and the goal was achieved with smiles on our faces. Lack of creativity was only as large as the laziest member in our group but even that did not play a huge part because after the initial assignment of creating the blog, everything else was a one man show.

Every assignment presented the similar problem of keeping in tune with the character of the blog, which is funny but critical and the task of pleasing our audience. The latter was at first an issue but as I began to understand the genre of blogging and all it entails I realised that although you may be writing to a particular audience, you cannot restrict who will read your blog. The prospect of the entire world being able to read my blog did not seem daunting at all but exciting, which is how I began to view blogging as the term continued. It was no longer a room collapsing but growing and I could not believe the enjoyment I derived from it. A major influence that allowed for this new found freedom was that our blog was the personal type and to be able to write in a personal style, within confines that are only limiting if you decide that they are, allows for a flow of creativity. Genres were one viewed as constricting but in fact some of the best work is produced within confined spaces. Added to this is that whatever could not be expressed in words could be made up in a picture and because we had been given photography tips, taking decent photographs was no longer daunting either.

At almost every lecture or tutorial I heard students moan and groan about this course because they could not find a strong enough link between journalism and blogging to get excited about the assignment. At times like these I was so happy that I had not let my fear of the unknown or technical incapacities stunt my growth because blogging has everything to do with journalism. Blogging has become competition to everyday news reporting and a powerful competition at that because it lacks the restrictions that are found in media organisations. Added to this is that businesses snatch up journalists who have a multiplicity of skills and as journalists any extra skill should be grabbed with both hands and feet because it is a difficult industry in which to survive sufficiently.

Like most people I love living life through laughter but when it comes to work, off comes the clown outfit and out comes the serious suite. This was not allowed when dealing with our blog because we were all about the funny. This presented a problem because all the assignments required us to dig into the lives of first years and bring out their issues. The concerns that face students are far from laughable so it was a challenge to deal with them without detracting from the seriousness but I had learnt in another course that humour is an effective way to bring even closer attention to pertinent issues and so I put this piece of information to good use that pleased my sources and people who read our blog.

To conclude we were given the chance to get extra credit by writing posts which we could put on the group blog or we could create our own blog, which linked to the team blog. The topic was again to write about first year and the response to this was again an audible moan from the students. I was groaning along with them but now bite my tongue because it forced me to take a greater interest in my life at university. I disliked Rhodes when I arrived and have struggled to survive first year but this assignment taught me to experiment with my surroundings and with the little bit of happiness or the lot of sadness that I have and turn it into something that has the potential to become something that can be taken seriously.

Market blog

Hay Anique

Homesickness was something that almost brought my university experience to a grinding halt. I wasted each week because my eyes were permanently focused on the weekend where I could rush into the comforting arms of my family and friends. I never talked about my issues to fellow students and because of this I struggled to make close connections, which further stunted my growth. Before I knew it, my last term had started and I was still wallowing in self pity, having accomplished nothing and feeling like I had wasted my precious time. We had just started a course in blogging in Journalism and Media Studies, which is the course that I am taking at Rhodes University in South Africa and our assignment was to create a blog with other journalism students and talk about how to survive first year. Finally I was able to express my feelings in a constructive way and after creating our blog, which is called “Confessions of a Crazy Couch Potato” I poured my feelings onto virtual paper, explaining about my homesickness ordeal and how to overcome the dreaded monster. My main comfort was that as soon as I started to talk about it so many students expressed similar concerns and the more empathetic advice that flowed in the less isolated I felt. So you can imagine how excited I was to find that you had the same problem and had bravely overcome it.

Such truth was spoken when you stated that there is “no single experience of college”. I felt that because I was not experiencing university life like other students that I was doing something wrong but in fact nobody knows how to deal with the way university tips your world upside down. University is whatever you make of it but you have to try to make something out of the sadness and the smiles otherwise we might as well go back to turkey dinners at home or in my case, roast chicken.

I have really enjoyed reading your blog and the advice that you and the other authors have so eagerly handed out. It is comforting to know that our fears and successes are shared the world over and I can see that your enthusiasm is going to dazzle your side of the world away, which has given me the inspiration to do so on my side!

Yours in balance, smiles and success!
Raisa

Bungee My Life: First year relationships: are they mutual or sexual?

Choosing Cynicism over Naivety?

I’m a budding young feminist. Believe me when I say I know how easy it is to let past experiences turn you into a man-bashing relationship cynic. You may not be that far-gone yet, but you seem well on your way. Even though I hardly know you, we have a lot more than I can say in common and I’d hate to see you become what I just escaped.

Sex - indubitably a common element of gender relations on Rhodes Campus. I think we would be naïve to deny that. You can’t assume, however, that that is the case in every relationship. A lot of guys who I encounter on a daily basis, much like the one you had the displeasure of crossing paths with, talk big about sex when they know they aren’t really getting any. What can we say – little boys must talk big to make up for smaller things. ;) That’s a story for another day though.

Here is the point I’d really like to make. My biggest issue while reading your blogpost wasn’t that you had made broad and sweeping generalisations or that you may have stereotyped men and made sexist comments (as others who have commented on this post have alleged) but rather that you have allowed this single personal experience to determine your entire outlook on relationships and sex. Varsity kids do act like dogs on heat sometimes, and men and women often disrespect each other in their relationships. Such is life, but in order to make informed and personally fulfilling decisions about your opinions on certain matters, you’re going to have to look at the bigger picture. Open up your eyes to the good things happening in your everyday life – you’ll find yourself a far happier person :)

Reply to: "The Keffiyeh: Modern Symbol of Hipster Ignorance"

It was such a relief to find this blog and to see that I am not the only one shaking my head in despair at the ignorant fashion of youth. On many occasions I have resisted the urge to intervene when overhearing a group of students expressing their disgust at the conflict in the Middle East, saying, “Its like sssooo sad, I would like never support something like that” while ignorantly twirling the knots of their keffiyeh’s in their fake fingers.

Another icon that we proudly paste all over our bodies is that of Che Guevara. Many who blindly follow him do not know that he, in fear of his communist position being compromised, became a mass murderer, killing thousands of men, women and children. We might as well put Hitler on a badge and pin it to our chests, which we puff out in consumer inflated pride.

To be fair though we cannot assume that everyone who wears such things is ignorant of the issues that surround it and will probably say that these issues are bigger than a badge on a bag or a keffiyeh swirled around the neck. They are perhaps wearing it to bring attention to the issues. But unfortunately the rest, despite the powerful and well informed argument, will never allow political awareness to trump their attempts to be hip and happening.

Comment on Keffiyehs

Nich

It is a relief to know that I am not the only one shaking my head in despair at the ignorant fashion of youth. On many occasions I have resisted the urge to intervene when overhearing a group of students expressing their disgust at the conflict in the Middle East, saying, “Its like sssooo sad, I would like never support something like that” while ignorantly twirling the knots of their keffiyeh’s in their fake fingers.

Another fake icon that we proudly paste all over our bodies is that of Che Guevara. Many who blindly follow him do not know that he, in fear of his communist position being compromised, became a mass murderer, killing thousands of men, women and children. We might as well put Hitler on a badge and pin it to our chests, which we puff out in consumer inflated pride.

To be fair though we cannot assume that everyone who wears such things is ignorant of the issues that surround it and will probably say that these issues are bigger than a badge on a bag or a keffiyeh swirled around the neck. But unfortunately the rest, despite your powerful and well informed argument, will never allow political awareness to trump their attempts to be hip and happening.

Thank you for voicing an opinion that I myself was too ignorant to talk about.

Yours in ripping off keffiyehs!
Raisa

Living Oprah: True confessions?#links#links#links

Living Oprah: True confessions?#links#links#links Oprah has had her show going for ages and has her fare share on anti-oprah fans. The part about her not being judgemental is suspect at times since she, on many of her episodes,leads her view to be on her side. Any way your blog highlight one of the biggest highlights of being a couch potato so you should check us out on ours.

Generation F'd

We have a national duty to be responsible citizens – or so they tell us. The young people of Generation F(acebook) are expected to be more than just young couch potatoes comfortably perched on the certainty and predictability of their lives. We are supposed to be opinionated about more than our buddy’s latest photo album displayed on the Facebook news feed. Taking a vocal stand about the pressing issues of our time means more, they say, than writing a catchy line as our status updates. More, they say, more because the future is in our hands. The smoky, filth-infested reality of tomorrow is in the shaky refuge of our soiled, grime-riddled phalanges; phalanges that attempt in vain to balance beer bottles and joints with all our global responsibilities. Oh, the trials and tribulations of youth!

How then, as a varsity student who is exposed daily to the horror of our present-day situation, do we positively look forward to the ominous future? How, when we persistently contribute to our own desensitisation, do we remember how to treat sensitive issues with delicacy and careful consideration? For example, how do we learn to say no to xenophobia when we are cackling a scornful yes to the jokes made about our fellow African brothers and sisters? And how do we participate as dedicated members of the fight against HIV/ Aids when in the back of our minds we despise sharing a shower with that res-mate who’s indubitably positive? How do we learn to be more when being less is so darn convenient?

At the beginning of the year, my friends and I took a stand and decided to spread the word and not the virus by becoming members of the Student HIV Aids Resistance Campaign (SHARC). When trying to decide between RavSoc – which drank for charity until our dearest Dean of Students gave it the boot – and SHARC, the easy choice for us was SHARC. Why? “Because, you know… Well… Come on… It’s kind of OBVIOUS…” would be our uncertain reply. Because we want to be like the outdated, overrated beauty pageant queens who pledge their lives to changing the world if only given half a …crown? Because we need to do SOMETHING – if only because we don’t know what exactly to do. Is it because we felt utterly shameless for walking past the pictures of the bony-cheeked orphans pictured on all the SHARC posters at Societies Evening? Was it all simply done out of guilt?

I haven’t the answers to my own question – I’m still trying relentlessly to figure it all out in my own mind. I do know though, that we know when what we’re doing simply isn’t enough. No matter how much the university system indoctrinates us with postmodernist ideas of questioning all and believing nothing, we have an innate, human concept of right and wrong. It is called our conscience.

In the ancient yet evergreen words of Gandhi, “There is a higher court than the courts of justice and that is the court of conscience”. This simply means that no matter how often our parents, lecturers, employers and friends let us off the hook for our wrong-doings, our consciences will never let us go unpunished for our transgressions. Even if, hypothetically, nobody knew that we had chosen to join RavSoc over SHARC, something inside us would know, and that would be enough.

That seems like a good thing, but the reality of it is something unfortunate. What it all really means is that although we are driven by some abstract internal concept to partake in responsible citizen behaviour, this behaviour will always be succeed irresponsible acts. SHARC will always be an afterthought after a night of crazy fun at RavSoc, and reading up on current affairs in the newspapers will always come second to checking up on current affairs on Facebook. Sad but true. I feel sad, not so much for Generation F'd, but regretfully sad for Mother Earth and the society she has bred to look after her.

Rhodes: An oppertunity for losers to become "the shit"

Every movie or book written about universities and colleges highlights the social scene and everyday relationships between girls and guys. Girls are depicted as the perfect female specimen with no flaws and are dressed in the latest fashion and boys drive the hottest cars and act like they own the world and can do what they want. The sad thing is that people do not realize that the universities and colleges depicted in the movies do not exist. A perfect example of a program that gives a completely in accurate view of university life is Greek. (To find out more visit http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0976014/ )

Rhodes is known to be a very accepting university so it is logical for a socially awkward high school student to apply to Rhodes because there is no fear of being judged. But this creates a problem because all those socially awkward students who apply do not apply to come to Rhodes and be accepted for who they are but come in the hope of getting a second chance at finding a footing in the social scene. Everyone knows that university is a new start and a place that you can define yourself but some people take that too literally and instead of finding themselves lose themselves completely.

For many students Rhodes has become away of reaching new social heights. Boys you played kissing catchers with turn into complete assholes and girls you have been friends with forever are suddenly the biggest bitches on campus. You do not need to know these people directly to know of them. Students who were once bullied and ridiculed in high school come to university not necessarily just Rhodes and turn in to the very people that tormented them.

Basically what I am trying to put as politely as possible is that people who were complete losers in high school have come to Rhodes and have turned into “the shit”. By this I mean that they are willing to step on anyone to be noticed and are willing to hurt people to get to the top. Boys who were genuinely nice have turned into cold ‘players’( the definition can be found here http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/players but look at the slang) who care about nothing more than being one of the boys even if it means going against any morals they once had. I have overheard and been involved in many conversations where girls have said how a guy has used them or has hurt them for no apparent reason, and during the conversation someone will say “he never used to be like that I don’t know what happened to him.”

Girls have changed just as dramatically as guys. Girls who used to spend Friday nights at sleep over’s or finishing up assignments have suddenly turned into hardcore binge drinkers. Girls, who were never really concerned about what other people thought of them, have become girls that never leave their room with out their make-up being done.

If university is really about finding yourself why is everyone so ready to let go of the little piece that was there in the beginning? People shouldn’t come to university to find themselves and become someone not worth knowing. If you were a loser once, it doesn’t matter, don’t try becoming something you not. Rhodes is a big place in a small town you are bound to find a place you fit in and people who like you for who you are. It is not a common thing to find people who change for the better but it does happen. Our blog is about giving advice on how to cope and have the best first year possible take what I have said about people changing for the worst seriously. People in my opinion plan to become someone they are not when applying for university do not become one of them.

The Struggle continues....

First year students are being exposed to a debate that has been raging for some time now; that of the present day student when compared to the student of yester year. The students of today are not failures when compared to the students of yester years. From the continuous strikes and riots that took place almost for the whole year at the NWU, Mafikeng Campus to the students who are linked to racist acts such as those from the NWU, Potchefstroom Campus and UFS, you can see that the struggle for a good education has been ragging on. Students are faced with more challenges, who are they expected to learn when tertiary institutions are closed months on end. Those like Rhodes and UP are seen as some of top Tertiary institutions in the country, the students that go to the other institutions are in many cases unable to afford to go to them or view them as too up market. The country tried to make the level of education the same in the country and you can see from Universities like the former Medunsa that used to produce the countries top black doctors, has gone down and become some thing you would rather not speak about ever since it became a part of the University of Limpopo. How do they expect an institution in a different province, Limpopo, to run an institution in another province, Gauteng, efficiently- doesn’t the Gauteng province have enough well run institutions that could have been joined with Medunsa?
The education system is constantly being revised and re-revised by the different ministers of education; students are forced to study in systems based on those from UK and America whereas the are in a country that is far from those and none of the ministers stop to think about coming up wit a system that can compete on an international arena but still use the countries strengths to educate its students. Students are spoon fed all through high school and when they arrive at University they are expected to excel, a house cannot be expected to stand on faulty foundation. What was wrong with the pervious “bantu education” matric? The minister wanted more students at the level of foreign student, but don’t we have enough examples like Tokyo Sexwale and the likes that still got to the top with out constantly disrupted systems. What Naledi Pandor’s new system does is to give students more work; this does not solve the problem of having spoon fed matrics. The education system has failed the present generation of students. More and more students are said to be coming out of school unable to read, the teachers are tired of constantly being abused by students. The keep teaching children about all the rights they have and the responsibly towards them lay forgotten as the children stab the teachers. The education system today is a mess and students cannot be expected to flourish under such conditions. On the other hand they do add to the problem, by their extreme drinking habits and so on, but if it does not conflict with their school performance it should not be seen as an issue. Students to day are punted as having a world of opportunities open to them, but they can not utilise many of these because they are misinformed and the opportunities themselves usually apply to a select few. The struggle continues and the students of today will fight on.

We never miss the water until the well runs dry

A student stands up during a journalism lecture and shouts above the noise, “I did not get up this early to come to this lecture and listen to trivial student issues”, only to be hotly shot down by another student confidently retorting, “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that if you want to hear you must sit in the front”.This incident was immediately followed by a student attempting to use the distraction to leave the lecture hall early, only to trip and fall, which resulted in unnecessarily loud guffaws and over exaggerated doubling over. The logic behind this is to further waste the lecturers’ time because it took the lecturer a lengthy amount of time to get everyone under control. It takes so long because the lecturer adopts what is known as transactional analysis, which means that the lecturer refuses to shout at students because it makes them feel like children and they will respond as such. But I have to ask if this theory still applies when you are dealing with children in the first place. Or it may be a teacher who takes big chunks out of the lecture to put children in the “Sim Bin”, their version of the naughty stool, which is ineffective because students end up giggling and in their laughs the lesson is lost. Anyway, by the time the circus had come and left town, it was time for the lecture to end, with nothing covered except once again sending the youth forth into the world with empty skulls. One may put this incident down to a bad day, “It was probably a Monday or Thursday”, you might say, because that is when all the students pour straight out of the pub and into the lecture hall. But in fact the circus comes to town everyday now as student attitude slips nonchalantly down the toilet.

Everyday, in both lectures and tutorials, students are exercising their new found ability to take control of the situation and use it their lazy advantage. When discussing the collapse of self control and control in every aspect of academic life, the same reply is grunted out. That of students being the lost generation or a science experiment carried out by the education department, that went horribly wrong. Or it is because we are living in the postmodern age, where we struggle to deal with the deconstruction and reconstruction of what we thought was reality and cannot handle the multiple realities that we are bombarded with on a daily basis through the mass media and globalisation . To be fair we should give the students credit for embracing new technological advancements because they do spend long, hard hours looking through the Internet to find sights such as Echeat , which allows them to copy an already written essay on a set topic for a few dollars. We have become lost farts blowing in a vicious wind and so we do not know how to prioritise because we do not know what is truly important. I agree that these hypotheses need to be taken into consideration but the one thing that remains, is that our generation is addicted to an easy way out. A label is given to everything under which students hide to avoid facing up to the truth.

To conclude Professor Pityana mentioned in his lecture that he gave at Rhodes University on academic freedom, that university is the place that produces critically thinking individuals who challenge existing structures of influence and authority. Ironically and embarrassingly the very individuals he was talking too and about, rendered his words null and void through their embarrassingly racist and disruptive behaviour. What Sim Kyazze wrote in his blogpost, “Why are we even here? Pityana public lecture falls on quite a few 18 year olds “tin ears”” , asks the right question. Why are we here when we are just wasting everyone’s money and time? There are individuals who actually refuse to pass blame even though they perhaps have more right to do so and who just want someone to offer them the chance to show their selfless and committed attitude. The old proverb that says, “You never miss the water until the well runs dry”, rings true because students’ commitment to academics is running out quickly. How students will feel if they knew that they were responsible for the collapse of truth in our country because they were too busy focusing on the wine while the water ran out.

Potatoes to the rescue

You may be wondering about the funny photo comic below. Well, it is our new journalism assignment that has given us many grey hairs but even more smiles. Our task was to make a comic that portrays issues of university life, using whatever you thought would bring your message across most effectively. The creative doors were thrown wide open and hopefully you can see that we grabbed this oppurtunity with both hands. We decided to use potatoes mainly because it mashed in nicely with the theme of our blog and because it adds humour to the serious issues that plague all students at Rhodes. Humour is an effectve way to bring closer attention to things that we usually do not like to deal with, either because we think it will never happen to us or because it has happened to us or a friend and we do not want to face reality. But just like the potatoes in our comic, we must unite and overcome these problems to ensure a safer Rhodes for every student and potato!
Hope this brings you as much laughter as it did us but without detracting from the severity of the situation!

Common Ground Room

Mumps Madness!!!

I thought I would give you a few interesting facts about mumps as its is the reason why I am bored and bed ridden. Mumps is a disease caused by a virus that usually spreads through saliva and can infect many parts of the body, especially the parotid salivary glands. These glands, which produce saliva for the mouth, are found toward the back of each cheek, in the area between the ear and jaw. In cases of mumps, these glands typically swell and become painful.

Mumps was common until the mumps vaccine was licensed in 1967. It seems that my dear friend decided to plague Rhodes and become common once again in our small town. After a case of mumps it is very unusual to have a second bout because one attack of mumps almost always gives lifelong protection against another.

What to look for…

Mumps usually starts with a fever of around 39.4° Celsius, as well as a headache and loss of appetite. The well known sign of mumps is the swollen parotid glands that kinda make you look like a hamster. The glands usually carry on swelling and become more painful over a period of 1 to 3 days. The pain gets worse when you try do anything, and i mean anything! For once in my life the common room and all the juicy gossip does not seem so attractive as I cannot add my two cents because it hurts to talk. There are other more serious side affects to mumps but by telling you them it would seriously darken an already gloomy situation.

How to avoid getting it!

Mumps is contagious and spreads in tiny drops of fluid from the mouth and nose of someone who is infected. So basically no more fun as it is spread through kissing, laughing, coughing or sneezing. But wait there’s more…The virus can also spread to other people through direct contact, such as picking up tissues or using drinking glasses that have been used by the infected person. Yay me! I did one of those terrible acts that have lead me to be confined within the four small walls of my bedroom.

People like myself are most contagious from 2 days before my symptoms began to 6 days after they eventually end.

The good news.

People with mumps do not need to stay in bed until the mumps virus has cleared!! Just ask the good old doc how long you need to stay in bed and then is back to normality!!! Therefore I should be back in the game on Thursday! keep in mind a few of these facts mumps is terrible and is not something you want to get!

Our new assignment

We diligent couch potatoes present our next assignment to you, which we have worked on with the force of a hundred potatoes. It involved doing profiles on four first year students who we identified as a hero, survivor or villain. After a quick common room session on our favourite couch we decided that we would profile four stereotypes…but the fact is there are no stereotypes at Rhodes, yes there is the typical party girl or academic or computer geek but each one transcends that stereotype in a single word or gesture. So we hope you too can see that each of these students has shone through their stereotype and emerged as heroes of their own first year fairy tale or nightmare.

Something to think about

Hey guys take a look at this...
You never know whos watching!!!!

A Precious Harmony

“My name is Precious – excuse the pun”, are the first words she utters to people when she first meets them. More often than not, the infectiously cheery smile that accompanies the words is enough to eradicate the idea of having ever not known her. Strangers she knows none and everyone’s her friend. Now isn’t that simply precious?

Precious Lungile Fatyela is a young diva in the making, whose 21 years of life have already been crammed with a lifetime of lessons. Since 23 March 1987 when she sang her first note to the world, she has been making music and spreading smiles with her voice; sometimes even leaving behind a trail of tears where her melodies have passed. “Music is the one thing that makes sense to me,” she reflects with subtle confidence, “the only thing nobody could take away from me”.

Once upon a time, her childhood was almost taken from her. Precious remembers with tear-studded eyelashes how a decade ago, she was “a broken person, angry at God, and even suicidal”. Precious is the daughter of a preacher, and her family was compelled to adapt to a nomadic lifestyle that saw her foundational years populated with sporadic and unpredictable periods of constant relocation. “I named it ‘The Calling’,” she begins, recalling the memories reluctantly, “and whenever it summoned, we picked up everything and uprooted”.

Parting was sweet sorrow, but became a hauntingly bitter reality when the young starlet’s family’s travels resulted in her moving from an Afrikaans to an English school. Although she had been an excelling learner in her previous schools, Precious’s struggles with English and Maths saw her repeating three grades consecutively. Having completed four years of primary school with Afrikaans as a first language, Precious found herself lost in a world of a language she knew almost nothing about. “I went from being the bubbly, intelligent girl everyone adored to the object of everyone’s bullying…because I was seen by my peers as stupid”. Raising her gaze upwards as if in search of divine consolation, she sighs and tries to fight the tears. “I cry, not because I haven’t been delivered from the pain, but because I’m humbled by how far I’ve come.”

A masterpiece as perfect in its simplicity as Precious, with its dampened marshmallow cheeks and soft, teddy bear eyes, could only have been made by The Perfect Artist. “I define myself as a young lady who’s found herself in God”. The sincerity in her voice tells a tale of boundless spiritual and emotional growth. “The seed that God sowed in me,” she explains, emphasising the words with a gentle beating of her fist on her thigh, “is the root of the desire that keeps me going – a reflection of his vision for me.” She admits that there were times when she was so tired and so paralysed by the fear of failure that she wanted to quit, but found in herself a fighting spirit that held the pieces together in a relentlessly determined way.

In grade ten, the process of metamorphosis turned a fear-stricken caterpillar into a growing, glowing and soaring butterfly, liberated from a fear she couldn’t suppress. “I got sick of the world oppressing me, so I groomed myself out of my feelings of inferiority”, she starts with a smile, suddenly reminded of her success. “So I learnt to see and love myself the way my parents did, and took time to learn about the reflection of God’s image in my own being.” A self-confessed “Daddy’s girl”, Precious reveals that a significant portion of strength to endure came from the support and strength of her parents.

She is carefully refined in language, dress and manners, as the formal definition of ‘precious’ states. A young songstress who’s effortless humility and impassioned voice have the ability to raise hair from flesh and bring chills to those blessed by her singing, Precious is a true diamond, who hasn’t been spared the heat of the refining process. Her appreciation for every part of her life is perhaps her greatest attribute. “Every obstacle and triumph given to me act as a cloth – tools to polish myself with so that I can truly shine”. Her name is Precious, excuse the pun.

The Stereotypical Rhodent.

Ashleigh describes herself as a spoilt brat who throws tantrums when she doesn't get her way. This helped her achieve everything she wanted in her school years. She was always part of the popular group and developed a serious interest in boys and partying. She decided to come to Rhodes to become more independent and receive a solid tertiary education, which would allow her to become a success in the field of marketing, "Little did I know that education would be the last thing on my mind.”

Still hung over after a typical night out she looks far from the energetic beauty she was the night before. A typical night out for Ashleigh consists of pre-drinks (a bottle of wine) and then more drinking when she goes out, her selection involves shots, ciders and cane trains, “when I am out I generally do a lot of stupid embarrassing things that I would never do when I am sober but I still have fun.” Her attitude reflects her feelings that she is laid back and ‘chilled’, and that she doesn’t have a care in the world. It is this quality that attracts many people to her.

Since being at Rhodes she has changed and she believes it’s for the worse, "I know I have changed, thanks to the booze and crap food I have grown wider and I am confused about what I want to do with my life.” She has no motivation and all her world revolves around is where and when the next huge party is happening. “I used to party quite a lot before Rhodes but nothing compared to how much I do now, oh well you only live once so why not.” The fact is that not being motivated does not make you a bad person and she is a perfect example of this.

Ashleigh describes herself as typical Rhodent, going out, getting drunk and meeting people that she won’t remember in the morning, but despite the memory loss she still has many friends. “My friends are a major influence in my life, there is no point in partying if you are doing it alone.” When talking about her friends her body language changes and she becomes excited, her smile reflects her happiness and love for them. Unfortunately peer pressure is a problem for her, which is something that separates her from the stereotypical Rhodent.

She may be a Rhodent but she is also a person. “I love my family and sometimes I feel that my partying ways have let them down and myself.” There is a hint of sadness in her eyes but she quickly recovers, “I know in the end I will make them proud so why not have fun on they way.” She has a contagious laugh which makes it easy to see why people like her so much. She plans to travel the world, which is one thing that has stayed constant since being a Rhodes. Despite being a Rhodent and having no idea what she wants to become, Ashleigh feels like she will become a success. “Rhodes is one chapter in my life and there will be several after this, I am not really worried. I will find my way and it will just be in my own time on my own terms.” Ashleigh is a Rhodent in her own right and is proud of it.

The scream

The desire to scream occurs to most that go to varsity, but for some it is a way to express their passion. One of the T-shirts owned by Robyn Johnson is of the famous Evard Munch, 1893, painting called "The Scream". Mainly people that follow the art world would know about the painting. it depicts a figure with their hands on their cheeks letting out an what you‘d think is a loud scream from the gaping mouth and droopy eyes, with a background made up of hazy blues, oranges and yellow that seem to speed by like a fast train. Her face always brightens up when she gets an opportunity to talk about her favourite subject. She came all the way from the temperate beaches of Durban, bypassing the city of fame and maybe fortune Johannesburg, to be in a little town she now calls home- Grahamstown. Many share her sentiments, about the friendly town, as she has found many, in her first year, at Rhodes that are like her. “I am not the only one that procrastinates,” she says laughing at her realisation that there are others that do this at Rhodes. She came here thinking that she would not fit in as she’s quite an individual back home. Although she loves the fact that she’s surrounded by people with many different talents, she also found that there are those that felt like her when they arrived they all came here finding that what made them different at home is what makes them fit in at Rhodes. She felt that what made her different was her creativity and artistic nature, it still is, but now she has come to a point where she has learned how it can be enhanced. “You learn how to be criticized”, she says telling of the emotions of being an arts student. She likens their experience to that of drama students; she feels that they go through many of the same emotions. The girl that wears a purple corduroy jacket, a fading jeans and a pair of her trusty black takkies tend to look like this every day matching up her jeans and trusty takkies with a thick woollen scarf. You would not pinpoint her as an arts student; you only find this out when you engage with her in conversation. By studying her favourite thing in the world she has found that she has been pushed out of her comfort zone- she had to become comfortable with taking pictures of strangers. “Parts of me that were hidden are revealed,” she says when she enthuses about how she has grown in the current year. Many become independent and learn to stand on their own feet, but you also find yourself. The people, the community of Rhodes and Grahamstown and her friends and classmates, have taught her a whole lot more about life more than the education that she’s paying thousands for has. They get taught by the best, “they are famous art world people,” she says seriously. They are specialists that will help them grow into some of the top artists in SA. After all this she believes that she is still the Miss Johnson everyone knows and loves.. She does not mind the residence food much and even found it to be perfectly fine commenting that what she found the food she ate home to have better nutritional value and that what they ate as fast food is given a well balanced meal at the dining hall. The town is her play ground; she knows where every hardware store, material shop and the likes are in Grahamstown. “If you had a car you would see a whole lot more,” she says when she tells of her love of exploring the little town of Grahamstown, there’s a whole lot more to it than meets the eye. Much like the horror that you think the figure in ‘The Scream’ is seeing.

"I am just not a career-orientated, power--hungry individual"

“Everyone around me was happy, manically happily, as if I was at some freak show, except that I was the freak because I was the only one crying”, laughs Tyreen Ragadu, a first year journalism student, as she nervously curls her black painted finger nails through her scarf. Tyreen, one of the winners of the Steve Biko writing competition and who received an impressive aggregate for a film and media learnership, knew “with out a doubt” that she was destined to study at Rhodes University. The smell of change was in the air and she was ready to grab it but unfortunately her grip on the rope slackened barely a week into her new life.

Her tune quickly changed to there being, “no doubt in my mind that I want to leave”. This comment was delivered with shocking confidence because after a month of weeping in her room she realised that she had made a big mistake. An honest mistake or a premeditated mistake, she was not sure but what ever it was, it was a mistake and she wanted out. The state of her room made this all the more evident. It looked as though it was ready to jump up and follow her as soon as she made her great escape. Boxes lay open; their innards spilling out over cupboard doors, her overnight suitcase still packed to the brim and no pictures or friendly decorations covering the drab walls. It looks as if she is just waiting for the interior design police to unexpectedly barge in and expel her from her nightmare.

At a hint that perhaps a considerable transformation of attitude was in order, she replied with a touch of irritation, despite her shyness, that, “it’s nonsense when people tell you that you have to change your attitude. Why do I have to sacrifice my happiness just because this is Rhodes and you are supposedly a freak for wanting to leave it”? She is aware that many people would kill for such an opportunity and that this makes her part of the stereotypical “beauty school dropout” but she has other plans that will take her just as far. Her attitude, which she knows will be the right one in the right place, will take her where she needs to go. It’s off to Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University to study Media, Communications and Culture and if you can fit in anymore after that mouthful, Tyreen hopes to travel the world as an airhostess in order to find her prince charming and finally settle down and live the stereotypical dream that Rhodes tries hard to squash out of you. “I am just not a career-orientated, power-hungry individual” she admits with a giggle because she knows that if her mother had to hear that, it would be tickets!

Tyreen recalls that in a recent journalism lecture a first year student had written to him/herself about their experience at Rhodes and she could relate to how Rhodes only accepts certain types of individuals and “cheers to the rest of you”. She too felt a similar crush of identity and was angered by the inability of students to transcend the stereotypes. “You either have to be an academic and sit in your room all night or you have to be a party animal and anyone else is probably in second year and they do not offer any assistance” says Tyreen with disappointment and further curling of her fingers through her scarf.

“We need Tyreen because of her very interesting sense of humour and she adds balance to our group”, says Tyreens’ close friend, Phemelo, who along with the rest of the group is disappointed at Tyreens decision to leave. Evidently though, not even friendship will hold this rebel back because even if she had no choice but to stay, Tyreen jokingly admits that, “you will then have to bring me a rope!” But as if sickened by her joke or the prospect of the death sentence proposed, the laughs subsides into a deep sigh that seems to expose her gloom at having lost sight of her Rhodes dream but the end of the sigh is filled with the sad fact that, “there truly is no choice, I have to leave before I become any more of a freak”.

the first year spread that never came

Dear younger and naïve Karabo
First year was the year you became legal, the year most of your friends back home in Pretoria said was to be the beginning of the never ending party. Funny, at varsity it could be like that if you do not watch yourself. One thing though that really got to you was ‘the first year spread’- okay well the opposite of the spread that is. The way people went on about it was just unnecessary hype. When you got to varsity you learned one thing pretty fast- every thing tends to happen in extremes and finding the middle ground is difficult. The parties are endless, the alcohol flows like water, and the readings are so long you would think that the lectures had a conspiracy against students reading all their readings.
So after going through all this you still expecting and trying to stop a ‘natural’ body make- over- when it hits you that instead of having more of yourself to see there is lesser of you. Then when you were asked about it you figured it was because you were assigned a residence in Kimberly Hall also known as the hill or at least that was the story that you told everyone when you got home during vacation. What could one expect to happen with all the walking you did?
As the year went by it persisted and you found yourself wondering what was wrong with you when other were comparing the kilos they had gained. Getting thinner could have been a sign of an eating disorder, high levels of stress or maybe a serious case of homesickness. People don’t tell you about all the opposite side the first year spread when you leave, it is almost none existent. You do every thing that those that are spreading do but yet you don’t spread. If something had been said before hand about this then you would have not been harbouring fear of a silent slow death or maybe a tapeworm( after that episode of Oprah with Dr OZ holding the 1 meter worm, you never know).
So my girl it is like I told you at the beginning, it is either you gain it all or you loose it all, it is up to you to find a proper middle ground.
For your reading pleasure, from your older and maybe wiser self.

A few things you need to know

Hello my little friend,

I thought I would write to you and give you some helpful pointers that I wish someone had given me. This is the time in your life were you will learn and grow my advice to you is to get involved in as much as possible you only experience first year once. You will notice that drinking is a major factor at Rhodes and it is hard to find a balance between partying and working. It will take you awhile to get into the swing of things but trust me it will happen and you will be fine. Do not let the work get on top of you it is very different to high school but you can do it. When it comes to partying enjoy it but do not make it the be-all and end-all of your life. You will meet people that do this and will try drag you into the lifestyle they lead, resist the temptation you will be better off for doing so.

Now when it comes to the male species, a warning, approach with caution. The thing about the majority of the first and second years is that they are only after one thing. Their priority is to build a formidable reputation and ‘spread their seed’. I know it sounds bad but there is hope not all of them have the same mentality.

The friends you meet at university become your sisters you rely on them and they rely on you. Your group of friends will be your family away from home so choose wisely. Do not be fooled by first impressions and trust your instincts.

There will be ups and downs but that’s life take them with a pinch of salt and a lemon. J I know you will do fabulously!

With lots of love,
Your crazy big sister.

Yours Truly

Hey Lady

How are you? Shucks, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I hope you’re doing well. I was flipping through some old photo albums today when I came across a sepia photo of you and the sisters, taken when you were hardly a year old. It made me realise just how much you’ve grown, and inspired me to share some of my thoughts with you.

You’ve become quite the young lady over the past few months, hey? I’m so proud of you. I think what I’m most proud of is the way you’ve held on so tightly to the Ithu you’ve always wanted to be, uncompromising of the vision you have always had for yourself. Way to go girl! I hope with all my heart that when you get to varsity within the next few weeks, you’ll continue to pursue that dream of becoming the best ‘you’ you can be. Change is undoubtedly inevitable. Coupled with the difficulties of varsity life, the inconsistence of your personal life can take you on quite the emotional roller coaster ride, but have faith and hold on tight. I’ve seen a lot of young women letting go of their dreams just because someone made them think that being themselves wasn’t enough. Well I want you to know that you are enough. You – with your not-quite-straight teeth, your “African heritage” booty and your spotted face – you are enough, and perfect in your imperfection. The beauty of varsity life is that we are all so different that it’s almost impossible to define that which is normal. Nevertheless, don’t lose yourself in the hype – have fun while staying true to you.

Oh, and you must of course never forget the rule of thumb – keep your friends close and your chocolate closer!

Much love
Ithu

Time to finish your homesickness jail sentence!

Dear Rice I am always watching you and have seen you suffering but have also witnessed your ability to laugh at yourself and your situations. There is not one situation that you haven’t eventually giggled at, so I think it is high time that you start chuckling at your homesickness. Remember those endless nights where someone would knock on your door, but you feared that if you opened it your tears would gush out and drown them? So you remained inside because you could not handle a charge of murder on top of your homesickness death sentence. They were there to pull you out of your jail cell but instead you opened photo albums and poured over them as tears poured down your already red and irritated cheeks. Curling up in a foetal position, you would fall asleep sucking your thumb like a child! Post-depression-session would find you smacking base on your face, something that you never do, just to cover up bags, which were so big that they could carry your school books! Such a waste of money and no wonder you always felt uncomfortable in your skin! I know that you are not alone and I understand that homesickness isn’t something to scoff at. Homesickness is a vicious feeling that keeps you up at night and confines you to your bed in the morning. It is also something that takes many of us by surprise because although it is talked about in that very “helpful” guide to surviving university, it is still a very personal, isolating issue that many students suffer from in silence. You have always been someone who adapts easily to new situations and living close by in Port Elizabeth and having moved away to Pretoria for a year at the tender age of 16, meant that you could handle the separation. I know you hate clichéd bits of advice but change is exactly that, change, and it is usually followed by harsh phrases such as “suck it up” and “get over it!” So next time, please open that door because I am quite sure that whoever is on the other end won’t mind swimming in your tears because more likely than not they will one day ask you to go swimming in theirs. Yours in laughter! Raisa

Confessions of a Crazy Couch Potato

This is our first time online, Yay!!!