Showing posts with label journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label journal. Show all posts

Monday, April 16, 2007

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…

Friday, March 30, 2007

Travel = the search for illumination

Tick, tock...tick, tock... Time winds down ever more quickly as my departure rapidly approaches. Last minute details are added to the checklist, which still seems only to be increasing rather than diminishing. Two minor assignments are left to complete and how much I dread them, as they represent that last bastion between the academic ties of my life here and the journey beyond.

I've been bombarded by a singular question as of late..."Are you excited?!?" The answer is yes, of course, but the true feeling of excitement still eludes me. I don't think that the full impact of what I'm actually embarking upon will hit me until I touch down in Johannesburg and step into a new world. I am however, vitally aware of how privileged my participation in this project is, and again I believe the full importance of it will only reveal itself to me once we actually begin work.


My thoughts will receive proper organization as I picked up my travel journal at Barnes & Noble yesterday. With the plethora of types and choices available to me, one would think that selecting my journal would be a simple decision. Journaling means you write on paper, journal contains paper to write on, therefore pick journal with paper in it. Fairly straightforward. But no so for me. I have the tendency to surround myself with items that, even in their minutia, represent me or an aspect of me. My journal had to be functional but still represent the essence of my journey. As a closet romanticist I have always been drawn to the travel images of those from the early 20th century. Old leather suitcases in tobacco brown laden with travel stickers, ladies in their crisp linen travel suits, the steam rising from the coal black trains engines, the gleaming silver wing of a prop airplane...all of these are what I still see when I think of traveling. I know that things are much different but this is what I envision - and as such, my journal should reflect that. I was pleased that the final choice embodies that feeling and will also suit my purpose well.

As it is my understanding that we will not have continuous access to the Internet the entirety of the time that we are in South Africa, I will do most of my journaling by hand and then transfer my entries to this venue. For those who think that I won't be able to keep up a daily rhythm of my days there, I say to you "Fear not!" I have done this type of writing before on separate trips and I find it helps not only to capture in ink my impressions but to remind me of great memories that I may have forgotten. And as the days pass by where more time needs to be filed away within the confines of my brain, I know I shall look to these pages as testaments of the great experiences I was able to partake of.

My coming weekend will be spent finishing the travel prep as well as my apartment prep. In the true spirit of spring-cleaning I am overhauling my dwelling and am determined to have it spic-n-span for my return, thus making my arrival home easier. That...and the fact I'm tired of living out of Rubbermaid containers. I am determined to keep the drudgeries of everyday life at bay as much as possible during this trip, even if it means planning quite the ways ahead.

Postal correspondence becoming a relic of past communication, I've the mind to reinstate it's romance by collecting roughly 60 addresses from friends and family for postcards. The librarian in me looked up the cost of postage from South Africa for an internationally sent postcard and has calculated how much I might need to set aside in my travel budget. One might assume that attempting to send that many postcards smacks of insanity, but I beg to differ. As a lover of postcards myself, I understand the simple joy they bring to others once they're received, even if it is only for a moment. Postcards are a tangible reminder that someone was thinking of you. That such a small thing could bring such happiness seems silly, but I've found that it is usually the most simple things that will matter the most.

You should know that I have a separate "journal" that I've been keeping for years now. In it are my confessions during moments in my life ranging from good to bad, but it also contains quotes and passages from books that have spoken to me in some way. Being an avid fan and reader of travel essays, I've collected quite a few pertaining to journeys and coming home and thought to end this entry by sharing a few with you.

"He who does not travel does not know the value of men." ~Moorish proverb

"I think I would be happy in that place I happen not to be..." ~ Baudelaire, Any Where Out of This World

"Territory, you see...is not necessarily the place you feed in. It's the place in which you stay...where you know every nook and cranny...where you know by heart every refuge...where you are invincible to the pursuer." ~"Lorenz" in Songlines

"But at times I wondered if I had not come a long way only to find that what I really sought was something I had left behind." ~Thomas F. Hornbein, Everest: The West Ridge

"And there was a restlessness: a desire to know better the outposts of my limitations" ~ Riding the Demons

"The things I wanted to happen were things that only happen if you don't plan them" ~ Where the Pavement Ends