Almost an activist, but not quite: The Story of My Life

I spent 3 and a half hours in a queue yesterday afternoon.

I have told everyone this in order to try and get some pity but so far my friends have been less than obliging. It was the first day of university registrations since the office closed for some kind of systems work in early December. I ask you, what kind of ridiculous institution has a huge systems upgrade in the middle of registrations? The spin off of this was that a multitude of students who would have registered in December were forced to register yesterday.

Imagine this:

Place: Room with lines of chairs set up like an auditorium.
Surroundings: Hot. Summer. Africa.

Once every half-hour or so somebody comes out of the registrations office to admit another 7 students or so. There is no water, no food, and if you get up to go to the loo the masses will surely take your spot. At first it was interesting to watch the room. The people at the back were smiling, talking, laughing, griping about inefficient service and 'Africa-Time'. Slowly, as you moved your attention forward they ceased to talk, moved less in their seats and stared ahead with the glassy look of the truly damned. You don't know why...until you've been there a while. For the first hour you are annoyed but in fairly good spirits. The next hour makes you feel like a postal worker just before they drop their bag, pull out a gun and, well, you know the rest. Shortly after, roughly around the time you begin to lose all feeling below the waist, desperation sets in and you lose the will to live. After that is just a blur.

I remember that moment when the guy came in and admitted my group into the registrations hall...I was so happy...until I saw the new block of chairs in there. There was a brief scare when the computers went down and the staff said we would have to return the next day. A group at the front formed a small protest movement (one thing South Africans do REALLY well) but they hadn't even agreed on a slogan or got a decent chant going before the systems came back up and the line started moving again. I will admit I was disappointed, that was the first diversion I'd had all afternoon.

Not long after that, I made the front of the queue and heard that golden word: 'Next!' only to spend a whole 5 minutes registering and sent of on my way. Complete anti-climax.

Thanks to Rebecca the nice nurse from Edendale, Wendy from gym, the guy from Correctional Services and the bloke who gave up his newspaper to us when he left. I miss you all already.