Delay in postings

Greetings all~

I made it back alright on Saturday and have been in a whirlwind of studying and catching up due to the last week of classes coming up next week. I've got only a few days worth of postings to finish writing and then I'll be able to post everything until the end. So please be patient and I'll hopefully get to it soon if I have spare time or if I want to procrastinate on doing actual homework!

Thanks...

Reagen

April 20, 2007 - Crocodiles, Sharks, and Pirates...Oh my!

Writing this entry in retrospect, since I obviously didn’t take my computer with me, is something I’ve been dreading and looking forward to with equal abandon. Dreading because there’s so much that we did in one day that I will be typing forever, but looking forward to because there’s so much that we did in one day that I want to share with everyone. So with that opening remark, here for your viewing pleasure is the first of our three days in Durban.

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Awaking to the alarm beeping beside my head at 2 a.m., I reluctantly roll out of bed and begin my morning ablutions. Never having been a morning person, I am seeing this hour from the wrong side. Normally I’d be up until now and going to bed soon, instead of getting up now and not going to bed until God knows when. Finishing packing, I step out my door to note that I have the largest bag to take with. Feeling a bit self-concious (when did I become the girl who can’t go anywhere without her flat iron?) I comment on the fact, and while everyone assures me that there’s nothing wrong with that, it still doesn’t do much to assuage my inner turmoil.

Our rides arrive promptly at 3 a.m., Kenneth and Peter Broli, who with Zwia load us into two cars (there’s no way that the tiny things here could hold all of us and our luggage) and we’re off to Jo-burg to fly to Durban. Alissa and I are situated with Kenneth and while he keeps up the conversation, I’m just marveling at the fact that I’m actually up for a sunrise. Arriving at the airport we head for the domestic terminal of Mango Air. Although it was extremely generous of Kenneth and Peter to drive us to the airport, there’s some concern on my part though in the fact that we seemed to have breathed in petrol (gas) fumes the entire trip and I have the beginnings of a large headache. Confirming that it just wasn’t a figment of my imagination, Alissa stated that she experienced it too.

Checking in and awaiting our aircraft, I’m surprised at just how many people there are traveling from Jo-burg to Durban this early in the morning (5:45a flight), but Rebecca B. reminds me that they may be a lot of domestic business travelers who are commuting between the cities. Making our way onto the plane I’m reminded of a sardine can – our society complains about the tightness in coach seating often enough – but I can tell you that the compact nature of the Mango aircraft was something to behold. Having a middle seat, I barely fit from front to back as my knees were smack up against the seat in front of me. As I don’t consider myself extremely tall (5’8”) I can’t help but wonder what other individuals are dealing with. Luckily the flight isn’t completely full and I manage to switch to another row with a little more room. It’s only one hour in the air and we’re there.

Flying into Durban one is immediately struck by the differences between the provinces that contain Pretoria (more desert-like) and the one that contains Durban (more tropical). Lush vegetation is abundant here and is emerald green in comparison to the autumn-turning tans of Pretoria. There’s also a difference in the air. Durban being located on the coast, the Indian Ocean airs a heaviness of humidity to the air. Oh yeah, by the way, I said the INDIAN OCEAN! On this trip, not only will I have experienced my third continent, but my third ocean.

Making our way to the Budget car rental area, we await our Toyota Corolla which is our run-around vehicle for the time we’re in the city. It having apparently rained earlier in the morning all of the vehicles have their windshield wipers up as the attendants wipe down the exteriors to a polished shine. Rebecca H. and Zwia come out with the keys to our royal blue Corolla. As we’re loading ourselves in I notice that we’re missing a windshield wiper, more specifically the driver’s side wiper, which if we run into bad weather isn’t something we’d want to be without. After the attendant adds the new wiper, we’re off.

Having learned that we’re not able to check into our hotel until 2p and it’s not even 7:30a, we’ve got a lot of time to kill. As we head north to Durban’s center from the airport, we again marvel at how green everything is. Flying in gave us a glimpse of the coastline but driving gives us an even better view. Cruising down the road, we come across an overturned semi for the opposite side. It’s flipped itself is such a way that it lies across all three lanes of traffic causing vehicles to back up for what seems to be ever.

Uncertain of what our destination is to be for the mornings entertainment we pull off the freeway to try and find an information office to get more…well…information. After locating a sign for a tourist office, we then proceed to not be able to find the darned thing. Going back-n-forth through the area several times whilst getting caught up in traffic being re-routed around the accident, we found that we had spent over an hour in the vehicle going absolutely nowhere.

With a final decision suggested by Alissa, we veer the car northward again and head towards Crocworld. Alissa’s ideas for things to do seem to be all animal-oriented: riding ostriches, swimming with sharks, viewing crocodiles. I’m more than happy to go along for the ride though as long as my one item of the vineyard is hit along the way.

With the sun shining brightly we are the first visitors to Crocworld on this warm Friday morning. In fact, we’re so early that the poor cleaning woman hasn’t had a chance to finish sweeping yet! Purchasing our tickets in the curio shop, I ever so briefly consider if I should select a crocodile head as an item for my home décor. Deciding against it because of the high creepy factor, we start out the door and into the croc park. Our entrance is paused for a moment as a male peacock is strutting his stuff right in our way.

Finally walking through, we’re greeted with the sight of multiple crocs and croc types in fenced in areas. And when I mean multiple, I mean multiple. The park stretches over quite a bit of land and when you enter you’re only able to see 3 of several pens. In those three combined, I’m fairly certain that there were 75 to 100 crocodiles…all of whom hadn’t been fed since 3 p.m. the day before.

I’m not all into the whole reptile farm thing, but these are certainly curious creatures. They creep Rebecca B. out a bit because of the slithery feature of their nature, but she manages well. As it’s moving towards winter here in South Africa, the crocs are headed into a more dormant activity period in their penned in lives. So while they’re not moving around a lot, they do keep an eye on those things around them. Ever been followed by a crocodile’s eyes? Not exactly the most welcoming feeling.

Our trip around the park lets us see different varieties of crocodiles from the cuter dwarf crocs to the most deadly variety of those from the Nile. These, apparently, are the ones who take more human lives than all of the other types put together. Reading the boards scattered throughout the park that reveal facts about its residents, I learn that a crocodile doesn’t have sex chromosomes. There’s no X or Y to speak of, and what actually determines the sex of a crocodile is the temperature of the heat during the egg incubation period. See, you can learn something new each day!

Making our way around, it’s become extremely humid, and I’m losing my eagerness to be here. Not being a fan of the humidity due to the fact I get heat exhaustion easily and end up fainting, I slow my pace behind the group. After we’ve made the first rounds, we’ve ended up back at the beginning just in time for the feedings at 11a. An employee with a wheelbarrow full of red raw meat stands just outside the fence. Speaking of fencing, we’re not quite sure how sturdy these things are if a croc were to actually charge at it. The fencing is similar to the type you’d put up in your backyard, so your guess is as good as mine as to it’s capability to keep giant reptiles in check.

Back to the feeding. Just on the other side of the fence a 15 foot crocodile has it’s nose pressed against the links as if he could inhale the meat with just one sniff. His teeth gleam an ivory white in the sunlight as he eagerly awaits his afternoon meal. Surrounding him are approximately 20 or so other crocodiles of various sizes piling one on top of the other, wrestling for the best spot at the table. Figuring that the crowd of people and crocodiles has waited long enough, the employee begins to toss chucks of meat into the pen. The percussive “thwump” of many jaws takes place as each animal tries its best to gain its gastronomical reward. Tossing meat in alternate directions enables the employee to try and reach numerous crocs so that one single creature doesn’t monopolize the whole thing.

Another small fact we learned was that crocs, while being able to catch larger animals once they reach a certain length, aren’t exactly the biggest eaters. While they may catch something large, their trick is to drag it away and hide it so that they can pull the meat from the bones of the carcass as it rots. Thus sustaining themselves for several meals with only one kill. (My apologies to those who are reading this while eating…sorry if I spoiled your appetite.)

After the feeding a guide showed us some of the areas we weren’t allowed into without one. Taking us back further into the park, we were able to overlook the smaller pens where crocs are bred, specifically for their hides. As we passed a smaller building, there were other employees actually stripping the skin from one of the reptiles.

Besides the five of us, there’s a small family on the tour with us, with two little boys and an even littler girl. I’ve noticed that South African parenting is much more relaxed than the US. Children are allowed to wander further and are more free wheeling than those back home. During our short hike the two boys fell a bit behind and I could hear their calls of “ouch” and “ouch!” As I glanced behind me, I saw that they were giving each other “snake bites” – that childhood game of grabbing a person’s arm and then twisting each hand an opposite way thus pinching the skin. Their engagement in the obligatory sibling annoyance of each other made me grin and think back to my own sibling rivalry days of yore (or maybe they're not quite of yore yet, recalling recent trips home).

Passing some smaller animals kept in the park, like meerkats, we arrived at Henry’s cage. Henry is the biggest croc on the Crocworld block, and was the partial star of Prime Evil. Being 2 meters (6 feet) round in the middle, his length was quite impressive. And though he looked harmless enough basking in the sunlight, I definitely wouldn’t want to meet him in any swamp.

Seeing as how we hadn’t eaten yet in the day, we opted for a brunch at the restaurant on site. Situated on a bluff overlooking the ocean, we were treated with sweeping vistas of an expansive blue sky, dancing waves, and the deep green of the palm trees and brush about us. In the distance you could see the storm making its way out to sea, and it had left in its wake a bi-colored ocean, deep blue where the floor dropped off but a murky tan where the shallow bottom sands had been stirred.

After lunch, we made our way into the heart of Durban in search of The Palace, which is where we were to be staying for the duration of our trip. Without comprehensive directions, we relied on the multitude of semi-helpful maps that would get us to the general location but didn’t contain the minute details we were looking for. After cruising up and down several blocks along the shoreline, we luckily found ourselves behind a police vehicle. Zwia flashed his lights at them and they pulled over. We Americans being uncertain of what he was doing were a bit startled that you could simply pull a cop car over. Turns out that Zwia pulled them over to ask for directions. The policeman was quite nice, joking that he could take us to The Palace as long as we didn’t give him a fine. With our official escort, we managed to find the place in no time.

Our attempt to check-in however was not as easy. Although our confirmation stated that we were booked in at The Palace, when the hostess at the desk went to verify the information, it was stated that we were actually to be in the Durban Sands. The Durban Sands had been the original choice for our venue but we had been told that they wouldn’t have room for us for both nights of our stay, hence the reason that we’d been put up in The Palace. Double-checking once more, the hostess stated that the printed reservation was wrong and that we did have two self-service apartments at the Durban Sands for both nights. So it was back to the car and back on the road for us.

Finally locating the Durban Sands, after a brief mistaken stop at the Silver Sands, we checked ourselves in and lugged our luggage up to the 9th floor (hmmm…is that where the term luggage comes from?). It was then that I discovered just how much that Alissa and Rebecca B. disliked heights. Our room having floor to ceiling glass windows and a balcony with a view that lasts forever didn’t give them the same sense of awe that I experienced. It being humid, I was ready to throw open the windows and let the breezes blow through, but being conscious of not wanting to make my roommates uncomfortable, we compromised. With no AC, I turned up the ceiling fan, we did throw open the windows and balcony door, but shut the shades to give the illusion that we weren’t up high.

Perusing the apartment, we found that there was a double bed and two large chairs with fold-out beds in them. Rebecca B. and I opted for the chairs, which left Alissa with the bed. With our keys we’d been given a checklist of items supposedly contained within our apartment to review. Playing the game of “Find That Thing”, I called off each item and Rebecca B. located them so that we could confirm or deny their existence. There were a few things on the list that we weren’t sure what they meant, though the names escape me now, but since we had items unaccounted for, we just checked them off anyway. Another discovery was the European shower in our bathroom; that being the handheld showerhead and no shower curtain. Having experienced these things in Europe we were at least familiar with how to operate them so as to not completely soak the entire bathroom. Something I learned quite quickly while abroad for the first time in Italy.

While we were checking things out and semi-settling in, Alissa made inquiries at uShaka Marine Park about the possibility of arranging an appointment to dive in the shark tank. Uncertain as we were to the popularity of this activity, we were pleasantly surprised when they had an opening for her later in the day at 4 p.m. She booked it and was all smiles.

Leaving perhaps a little later than we should have, we drove over to uShaka, which was only about 5-10 minutes away. A gigantic commercial area, uShaka not only has a Marine Park with daily animal shows, water slides, and aquarium, it also houses a plethora of shops and is smack-dab next to the ocean. In a bit of a hurry to make her appointment, we dashed to the Marine Park area and while Alissa went on he way to the meeting point, the rest of us made our way into the aquarium so that we could see her dive.

This aquarium, by the way, is quite possibly the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Designed as a gigantic ocean liner shipwreck, you make your way down through the cargo hold and wander the “halls” of the interior which have surprisingly enough multiple tanks filled with all manner of fish and ocean life.

Locating the shark tank, we settled in for the activity. They’re really quite graceful animals. With a floor to ceiling pane of glass between us the glided around in circles next to some gigantic fish (which was larger than some of the sharks and whose name also escapes me). Some time later, the first individuals partaking of the shark diving experience entered the water in a clear container which was left open on the top. The trick was that you had to bob up and down for air, as all you were given was goggles for your eyes. Even though the lone tiger shark skimmed the surface the entire time, it’s dorsal fin cutting through the water in that telltale manner, there was no time at all that the open top could have been dangerous. The gentleman in charge stated that the sharks would be unable to jump so as long as everyone keep their arms in all would be well.

With her first shark diving experience over, Alissa really needed a change of clothing. We had thought that they would provide her with some sort of wetsuit and towels, as the gentleman in the brochure had, but to no avail. Armed with only her bathing suit and the clothes she arrived in, she had nothing to dry off with. Heading back to the shops we were she was fortunate enough to be able to pick out some new threads.

While making her decisions, discussion led to the inevitable conversation of where were we going to eat. Alissa and I had spotted a placard on the sidewalk whilst heading to the shopping area that had listed a pirate show taking place later that evening at the Top Deck restaurant on the wrecked cruise ship. Mentioning this, all agreed it sounded like a good idea but we needed to check it out. Arriving at the restaurant, we were initially turned away because they didn’t think they had enough room for us and we didn’t have reservations but as we were leaving, the “Captain” of the ship found us and said that they had made room for us.

The total experience was great. There was live music, a dancing Pirate (in a sort of mascot costume), other dancers, and regular pirates who juggled swords and swung these, I can only think to call them maces, that were lit on fire at the tips. A large buffet was available for us to pick from with a whole host of options from around the globe. As the day grew dim, the sky lit up with stars and a crescent moon so clear it seemed as if you could pluck it from the sky. We all had a wonderful time.

Our evenings revelries completely exhausting us, we finally paid the check and found our way back to the hotel. After a very long day, we opted to not get up early for the game park drive the next morning as we would have been too tired to enjoy it, and crawled ourselves into our respective beds to dream of crocodiles, pirates, and sharks…oh my!

April 19, 2007 - Lesson learned

So apparently I didn’t learn my lesson last week with the green tea. I had thought the combination of the meal I had with the green tea is what upset my stomach, but as I found out from last night and most of today, it’s the green tea itself. I’m not exactly sure why because I drink Lipton’s Green Tea Citrus all the time back home. I’m thinking it’s just the brand I’ve got.

I’m disappointed though in being sick. We had plans to attend a choral concert today that was being given on campus consisting of traditional South African music. As a member of veteran of high school and college choral programs I was looking forward to hearing their music. Rebecca H. had stopped back at the apartments to check on me and stated that she would take some pics if they were allowed. I hope that they’re able to.

Since I wasn’t’ feeling my best, I didn’t do anything outside of my apartment today. As my stomach settled, I did manage to accomplish some other things though like quiz prep, ironing, and packing for tomorrow’s trip to Durban. Or should I say this coming morning.

Our ride is picking us up at 3:15 a.m. for the 45 minute trip to Jo-berg. We then have an approximately 1 hour flight at 5:45 a.m. and will arrive at our hotel very early. Since we’re leaving at such a crazy time, I’m gonna be headed back to bed here in about an hour – 6 p.m. That’s because the intent is to put in a full day of sightseeing in Durban once we arrive, and there’s no way I’m going to want to traveling around if I don’t get some sleep beforehand. So with that in mind, this note is going to be very short, but expect big things to be written about in the days to come…

April 18, 2007 - Reagen's Rosetta Stone

Another overcast day brought the blah blues. Alissa is still sick from the day before so it’s just the Rebecca’s and I turning in a full day’s work today.

More research (so tell me, how sick are you of my writing about this?) brought more online travels. Today my ventures were to Fiji, The Holy See (Vatican), Indonesia, and Israel to name a few. In locating and/or correcting contact information for the national libraries for the nations I again wish that the USA had more stringent rules in teaching the nation’s children a second language. My rusty French can help me out when pages of Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian pop up but I am lost when a non-Latin based language like Hebrew or Indonesian flashes across my screen. The symbols that make up their lexicon are things that I know are supposed to have meaning but to me are just beautiful scrawls across the page. Running into pages of information in languages I’m not familiar with certainly can put a long pit stop in the schedule of the research race. I need some sort of library Rosetta stone, that has the translations of all of the world languages and whose subject consists of contact information.

We learned today that Peter Broli, Cathy’s brother, who was to be our native chaperone and driver for our Durban trip can now not make it due to other work obligations. There is talk of Zwia, the student who carted us to the Lion Park, going with us. I certainly hope that something can be worked out, because for all my boastings of wanting to drive on the other side of the road, I would not be the best candidate with the lack of knowledge on the downshifting skills.

Another item added to our schedule was the mention of a choral concert being given by the UP Choral group, consisting of several songs in the South African tradition and in several of the national languages (there are 11 total). I’m stoked for that as I always look forward to experiencing all that another culture has to offer.

Rebecca H. and I left a little early to check on the new chaperone details and stated that we would meet everyone to get our laundry. I guess our signals got crossed because while our business with Cathy and Peter was resolved quickly, Rebecca H. and I waited for a quiet a while for the others to join us. In that time, I decided to unwrap a Snicker’s bar that I had brought back from the Lion Park. While shedding it’s wrapper I discovered that my Snickers was crumbling in my very hands. Apparently Alissa and I had selected some bars from the wrong batch and ended up with these crumbly counterparts. Not the Snickers satisfaction I was looking for.

Since there was still no sign of the girls and the closing time of the laundry service was rapidly approaching, I offered to trek over to the laundry place whilst Rebecca H. waited for our erstwhile companions. I was moving a bit more slowly than normal due to pain caused by unbroken in shoes, or rather I should say not-broken-in-enough shoes. Hobbling my way to the Hatfield Square who should I find but Alissa and Rebecca B. already waiting at Le Patt Café with all of our laundry at their feet. I joined their table, and as we waited for Rebceca H. to make her way our direction, I reveled in the sensation of fresh laundry.

While most people complain about having to do ironing and laundry as a chore, I find it soothing. Folding items straight out of the dryer and inhaling that warm soft scent is something that makes my day a little bit better each time it occurs. I enjoy placing clean clothes to their proper homes, and putting fresh sheets on the bed. It gives me a sense of domesticity, something that I don’t always feel I have a lot of. Keep in mind though that this is me doing my own laundry, I don’t know that I’d wax quite so rhapsodic if I had to take care of everyone else’s as well. But for at least tonight I’ll rest easy in that Downy fresh feeling.

April 17, 2007 - Fun & Games with Zeus

Tonight I’ll start with the end. As I sit here composing this, Mother Nature is pouring down buckets of rain. The sky lights up with flashes of lighting and I count…one Mississippi…two Mississippi, CRASH! The storm’s moving closer and closer and I can’t get enough of it. When the heavens bring forth thunderstorms I am overjoyed, as there is nothing I like better. While some people feel their hearts grow light at the sight of a clear blue sky, mine favors the silvery grey of a rainy day. Perhaps this is the reason why I feel that I should make my permanent home somewhere in the UK, where the overabundance of stormy weather cultivates lush green fields.

My window once again open wide, I sit on my bed and stare outside at the gift that I’ve been granted. The city lights cast a golden hue on the clouds passing overhead and people beneath multi-colored umbrellas pass by on their way home. I breathe in deeply and the clean smell of the earth fills my lungs bringing a smile to my face. Tiny rivers of water sluice their way down the pavement of the street below. Thunderstorms always bring to my mind the scenes in Fantasia where Zeus tosses down bolts of lightening hand forged in the clouds above, wrecking havoc on the peaceful scene below. His joy echoes mine own.

To go back to the beginning, today was just another Tuesday. It began as the others have at 7:30a, but this time my trip out the door wasn’t just off down the street to UP. Nope, today was laundry day. But not like any other laundry day that I’ve ever experienced. Having been here a week and a half now, it was time to have things come clean, so our group had been looking for a Laundromat in the Hatfield area. The one that Rebecca H. knew of from her last visit is no longer there as a new housing complex is being constructed on its old premises. Yesterday we stumbled across a great idea. A dry-cleaner that will wash and fold your laundry for you! It’s a concept that still seems a bit strange to me since I’ve been doing my own laundry since about the age of 10. Mom made sure that we all knew how to do that early on. But for R 15 per kilogram we’re able to pick up our laundry all fresh and new less than 24 hours later.

Alissa wasn’t feeling well due to a sore throat so she stayed in bed today. I wasn’t quite ready when the Rebecca’s were off so I told them I catch up. On my way out I slung my blue laundry bag over my shoulder, feeling a bit like Santa Claus, and set off into Hatfield. When I reached the corridor for the cleaners, I saw Rebecca H. waving to me from La Patt café down the way. Apparently we had misread the sign and the cleaners didn’t open until 8:30a so we had a little time to kill; a cup of hot cocoa for me and some time to enjoy the fresh air.

After dropping off my laundry, I stopped across the way to mail off the last set of my postcards. Final count I believe was 53. Messages might seem a bit similar on some but after about 20 or 30 it’s hard to be original and clever. I’m interested to see how long it will take them to travel home. I’ve been on two week abroad trips before and though I’ve sent things within the first few days, they’ve still arrived after I have. I’ve friends all across the US, in Lima, Peru, and Scotland as well, but I think the card that must travel the longest distance will be to Honolulu. Although that may depend upon which way the plane leaves from here.

Work brought more research. After locating information for countries that weren’t on the original list, we’re now working on verifying information for countries we do have but haven’t gotten any response from. You’d be very surprised at the difficulty or ease of some places. For instance, Canada gave me a hard time, locating the correct name, but Estonia was done in two seconds flat. I also found that translating Portuguese isn’t so simple when your French is fairly rusty.

Lunch found us back at our usual spot Café at Burgundy’s. We’ve enjoyed our times there and at all of the places we’ve gone to for lunch and dinner, but our American sensibilities are showing a bit as we’ve grown a tad weary of the leisurely manner in which meal times are conducted. We’re not used to having to take 2 hours per meal, as it seems to me that it’s cutting into our work time. It’s not a bad thing but when one’s hungry it can be a bit of a bother.

We finished up work and then were off to the travel office once again to pick up the final Durban details. With flights, cars, and accommodations confirmed we are officially a go for Friday. I’m very excited. I believe we’re flying on an intra-country airline called Mango so that should be different as well as the fact that it’s supposed to be a prop airplane. That I’m really looking forward to – flying is another thing I’m crazy about. I’d eventually like to have my pilot’s license for planes and choppers but I’m not sure when I’ll be able to take up that dream. I took a one-hour test flight a few years back and it only added fuel to the fire of that passion, so any time I can leave the ground I’m all for it.

Dinner was spent on our own back at the apartments and that’s about where you’re finding me now with the rain in the background. Lunch was later in the day so I’m not tremendously hungry at the moment. So I’ve popped open a bottle of Coke and settled in to write this. The last thing I’ll leave you with for this entry is my endorsement of Coke in glass bottles. Another of my loves (This missive seems to be filled with a lot of love, huh? Maybe I’m channeling more of Eros than Zeus after all.), I feel that Coke can taste no better unless it comes out of a glass bottle. I think my adoration of this particular style stems from my childhood. I remember my dad taking me down to the local gas station where there was a glass bottle pop machine, and my summer camp had all of their canteen beverages in glass bottles as well. Nothing seems to taste better. Fortunately for me, here they have pallets full six-packs of Coke in 250 ml bottles. So between the chocolate milkshakes and the Coke in bottles I’m well set to spend my remaining time here existing off of those. Until next time…

April 16, 2007 - The Electronic Age

Today I have internet that works when I want it to! Rebecca B. having traveled with multiple items for her computer, has taken her internet cord that she brought and replaced the one at the office that had been giving me so much trouble. It was a delightful thing to arrive to.

The Rebecca’s had headed to work early today to catch up on e-mails and such as we had had the weekend away from the internet. Our reliance so much on technology now for everything scares me a little and I wonder how we would ever cope if things changed and we lost those convenient electronics that we so desperately rely on now. Take for instance the cell phone. I only bought one myself about two years because I was moving around so much and it was easier to keep track of myself that way. Traveling here, I left the thing at home and haven’t bought a calling card at all. I left instructions with the family that no news was good news, so that they would only hear from me if something went very wrong. And I can tell you flat out that I don’t miss the thing at all. I tend to chuckle at those people who panic when they’ve left their cell phone at home. It wasn’t so long ago when you couldn’t take your phone with you, and frankly sometimes nowadays it’s a pain to be reachable all the time.

Most of the day was filled with small things, turning in a Organization of Information exercise (which I’m hoping I did correctly), knocking out more postcards, figuring out what laundry to send off, and an evening back at the News Café so that Rebecca H. could experience the delectable deliciousness of their cuisine. With nothing high on the revelation scale, I’ll leave off for now. A small entry for a small day.

April 15, 2007 - The Mane Event

You finally will get to read something more stimulating. Today was our day to venture out and about. Knowing that the market hadn’t been open on Saturday, we hit the square at 10a, and each went our separate ways. A rabbit’s warren of tents, one is able to meander at their will discovering a new trade or craft at each turn; everything from the faux Gucci and Fendi purses to hard-carved ivory tusks and woven baskets.

My purchases were only a few, a gift or two for the folks back home and something for myself. Souvenir shopping for little ol’ me is a bit harder nowadays than it was when I traveled when I was younger. I now no longer yearn for that cool t-shirt which will only be worn for a little while. Now I search for something tangible that can be displayed and enjoyed for multiple years to come. Seeing as how I’m quite into giving every new place I live a homey feeling, I’ve started collecting décor items in my travels, so that the objects I surround myself with have meaning. With that particular explanation in mind, I picked up a hand-carved wooden mask to hang in my hallway. I have a similar one from Ghana, a gift from someone a while back, so this will fit right in. I’m still hoping to locate a painted cloth that I can frame as artwork. Although there is a superfluity of cloths available, no one in particular struck my fancy. Perhaps I will fair better in Durban. A quick chocolate milkshake at a local café and then we’re headed back to the apartments to meet our ride for the Lion Park. (Tangent: South Africa has the BEST milkshakes – they’re just so incredibly smooth!)

Cathy was able to hook us up with a UP Radiology student named Zwia, who uses his car on the weekends as a sort of taxi-service to make money for school, so he was our appointed driver to Lion Park. Because Rebecca B. still had some homework to do and she’s a more diligent student than I, she opted to stay home and finish up some more projects. So it was just Rebecca H., Alissa, and I.

Zwia is a nice guy who took us a little round about in the city before we departed for the Lion Park. Driving us up to the Union building we were able to look down over the whole of Pretoria, which was quite the impressive view. A few seconds later we were whisking our way through traffic and onto the interstate towards Lion Park.

Along the way we saw settlements of people who have put up corrugated steel shacks. Not formal towns per se, although you could tell where road and yard deliniations were. It’s quite the juxtaposition of worlds. Where traveling one way out of Pretoria you see a flush economy with giant stucco mansions completed with ice blue pools and in another direction lies abject poverty where the homes are battered and covered in rusty tin with no running water. It’s not limited to one area either, these settlements were scattered all along the way we traveled. We passed people walking along the side of the roads that were looking for work or headed to the nearest store for supplies; that nearest store being a few miles away.

One thing to do here in South Africa that we won’t be seeing is to travel to the town of Soweto, which has similar conditions to the places I mentioned above. It’s become a destination of choice for people visiting here from other countries, but I for one am glad we’re not going. While I feel that the experience would be one that would be important, I would also feel strange making a tourist trip out of someone’s neighborhood and home, especially since I’m so well-off in comparison. Perhaps if I was part of a larger mission bringing help, maybe, but my comfort level would not be so good otherwise.

Our arrival at the Lion Park was fortuitous as Zwia dropped us off just in time to make the latest guided tour. Climbing into a khaki-colored safari truck, we find ourselves in a covered cage. Our guide, Phillius, spoke about the history of the park and its original parameters. Although it’s called Lion Park because the lions were the reason that it was established. It has expanded its boundaries and now houses cheetahs, hyenas, springbok, antelopes, zebras, ostriches, giraffes, and oh yeah…lions. The tour took roughly an hour or more. We navigated our way through the open lands where the ostrich, zebra, and antelope play to begin with, and then venture further into the park for a glimpse at some hyenas and cheetahs. Unlike Kruger or Pilanesburg national parks this is more of a preservation area so the animals aren’t allowed to just roam freely amongst each other. Areas are cordoned off so that each species has its space. The hyenas were next on our tour, but seeing as how they had just been fed (evidence left at the front of the cage confirmed the suspicion) they were more than happy to just lounge about inside their dens and not perform for the strange humans in a cage. The next area was designated to the cheetahs. They too had just been fed, but Phillius let himself into the area to try and get them to play a little. His swinging a dead chicken around didn’t do too much but when he made his way their direction, they decided to get up and move about a little. Keep in mind that these animals have been raised in captivity so they’re used to human presence, but one must still always be cautious.

The main event (or mane event if you prefer) consisted of four separate areas where white lions and regular African lions roamed freely. They were amazing to see and with the digital camera I could get close without actually getting close. Most of them were content to gnaw on their horse legs

I must tell you that not only could you take a guided tour but if you so chose you could drive your own vehicle on a self-guided tour through the park. This is great for most as you’re basically at eye-level with the cats and they’ll walk right around or next to the car. Specific instructions are given not to exit the car, roll down the windows, or do anything to aggravate the animals. However, some people aren’t exactly the brightest crayons in the box, and were being quite loud and obnoxious, calling out to us from their vehicles such things as “Are they feeding you?” and “Do you get to leave your cage?” They were startling the cats to know end and although it may not have been charitable, I thought it may serve them right if a lion had taken a swipe at them. Have them get a little of that whole “reap what you sow” thing.

Overall, viewing the big cats up close was really cool. They seem such placid animals lounging around and lapping at the water-hole, but the tightly coiled strength lying beneath their tawny coats is something that I would not want to experience first hand. Another plus with the digital camera is that I didn’t have to worry about how many shots I had left and could click away at will. Viewing them both with the naked eye and through a lens, they truly are magnificent creatures. Back at the main site, there were smaller areas that you could walk to where the younger lions were being held. We even managed to go inside an area where you can play with baby lions. Although calling them babies would be stretching it. Even at 4 months of age, they had tremendous strength. I was able to pet one for a little while and their fur is much rougher than I thought it would be. Perhaps when they grow larger their pelts grow softer, though I’m not willing to find a larger specimen to test that theory at the moment. Nonetheless they are completely adorable.

We wandered around trying to locate the giraffes, but they were no where to be found. I can’t imagine how a giraffe could just disappear into thin air but that seemed to be the case. I was hoping to get some good pictures for my younger sister who requested that I bring her back an actual giraffe from my travels, despite my constant reminders that a giraffe, even a baby one, could not fit in my suitcase. She’ll have to be content without.

As we arrived at 1p and were to be there until 6p when the park closed and our ride arrived, we had some time to kill. There was a kiosk with snacks, where I won the Snickers treasure hunt – Alissa always brings her dad back a Snickers from a foreign country and we were having trouble locating some. A quick perusal through the gift shop and we were done fairly early. With an hour or so to kill we had supper at the restaurant there and finished just in time to meet our ride.

As we traveled back to Pretoria, the sun was setting over the hills casting a fiery glow onto the earth and setting the sky ablaze with colors. Traveling on tiny lights would appear across the land like fireflies marking homes and cities settling in for the evening. Arriving back home, we thanked and generously tipped Zwia who assured us he was available again whenever we needed his assistance. Knocking on Rebecca B.’s door we regaled her with the day’s escapades and then each turned in to our own little worlds. The abundance of fresh air breathed in over the day brought sleep more quickly than usual and I fell into a deep slumber to await the dawn…