Jaz & Miguel Read Online Free PDF Page B

only the whites that speak Afrikaans. Many blacks speak it, too. Then, of
course, there are the coloreds—you know what coloreds are, don't you?"
    "B—black people?"
    Sandile gave out a laugh that came from his nose and Jaz was feeling
more and more embarrassed. "Man, 'coloreds' are neither black nor white.
They're an ethnic group, mostly concentrated in the Western Cape. Their skin is
darker than white, but few have skin as dark as mine, for example. Their
predominant language is Afrikaans, although that's not a hard and fast rule.
They have a mixed ancestry—maybe Dutch, maybe even a bit of Xhosa. But they're
an ethnic group unto themselves with their own customs and music and culture."
    Clearly she hadn't read enough books about South Africa
before coming here (or had read all the wrong ones). "I see," said
Jaz, a little confused, and finding it hard to separate the racial connotations
she'd always associated with the word 'colored' and now the fact that she was
expected to use it as the sole descriptor for an entire ethnic group.
    "Anyway, you'll get the hang of it all soon enough. And, as I
said, few people really get offended by things down here. There are so many
more important things to worry about."
    "I hope I do get the hang of it."
    Sandile smiled and a brief silent moment passed. "So, excited
about the trip on Monday?"
    "Yeah. Yeah, I am," she said quietly. "It'll be good
to meet some of the other local kids. Thandie was the only 'local' who went
with us to Soweto today."
    "Yeah ... she generally gets her way." They laughed again.
"Well," he said, "I'm another one of those locals." He
extended his hand out again, but this time he gave her a three-part shake and
explained that it was a traditional African handshake.
    "Yes," he continued, "I'm also in the IHRE program."
    "Oh, really?" Jaz's mood brightened. Somehow she liked
Sandile. "That's awesome!"
    "No, it's lekker ," he said.
    They sat in silence for a while, looking out at kids in various
colors of shirts walking on the grass and making their way home, some of them
milling about, one trying to kiss a girl who promptly pulled back and ran, the
failed suitor then extending his arms out to his side in dismay.
    "So, what's with the pencil?" she asked, breaking the
silence. She took another sip of the mango and orange LiquiFruit she'd bought
earlier (something which tasted not unlike Juicy Juice back in the States).
    "Ah, that!" He grabbed it and looked at it. "I'm a
journalist wannabe. Oh, that's not why I'm talking to you." He waved his
hands defensively and then stopped. "Well, actually it is ... but it's
not. God, I sound like you now." Jaz laughed (also through her nose, some
of the juice making its way up there and burning it). "No, look. I've got
like a local news-blog and I do articles on different things. I did come and
talk to you because Thandie said you're pretty cool and I was hoping we could
all be friends. But I also wanted to ask if
you'd mind being interviewed for an article I'm doing about all the Europeans
and Americans here."
    "Sure. I could introduce you to some of the other girls from
the US as well. What's the blog address?"
    " Sandilesaysitatwits.blogspot.com ," he said. "Yeah, I'm hoping they'll give me a column in
the Times Live or the Mail & Guardian one of these days. Maybe
when they see my brilliant writing skills online they'll take me up." He
stood, getting ready to go. "Although, part of my problem is I write and
write and write and write and never post anything. I have about three years of
material on my computer that I haven't gotten the guts to put online. Maybe I'll
put it all in a book someday."
    "You should."
    He shrugged.
    "The … Times Live and Mail & Guardian —are
those newspapers?"
    Sandile nodded.
    What happened next was something that left Jaz shocked, and a little
afraid.
    As Sandile had stood there (half-standing, half getting ready to go)
minding his own business, a basketball—out of nowhere!—came out and hit