12/17 Digression from Q, the Elder: On our drive to Pilanesburg on Friday, Alexander and Quince got into a very interesting discussion about “the soul.” It is necessary to put the “soul” conversation into context, filling in several pieces of background information: Alexander, as Caroline has said, seems to really like his school and has made good friends there. Caroline had also mentioned to at some point after my arrival here that Quince wasn’t as happy at her school partly because some of the girls at her school are pretty mean. In addition, you may recall Caroline’s earlier post about Quince’s school being a Catholic school, and Quince’s frustration at not being as “artistic” as her classmates -- with Caroline discovering that what Quince was referring to was a color-by-number Jesus assignment. Then, on our drive to Marepanga the day prior to this conversation about the soul, we go into a discussion about Alexander and Quince’s respective schools. On that drive, Quince’s complaint wasn’t the mean girls; rather, her complaint was expressed the following way, in a very irritated and insistent tone of voice: “I don’t LIKE my school. It’s always ‘God THIS. And God THAT. And Jesus THIS. And Jesus THAT. Six hours a day. I don’t LIKE it.'" That’s the background.
So, on our drive to Pilanesburg on Friday, Quince and Alexander get into a heated dialogue about the nature of the soul. Quince started the discussion, wanting to talk about how “hating” someone impacts you negatively. Alexander jumps in: “Your soul is an imaginary thing. It’s your personality. If I die, my soul comes out.” Quince resolutely returns to her chosen subject: “It is harder to put an impact on your own soul than someone else’s soul. So, if you hate someone, it will impact that person’s soul.” My St. Johns College Great Books self REALLY wanted to ask her more questions, because I really didn’t yet understand what she was conveying, but given the dynamic between her and Alexander described in the previous-blog-post about the Pilanesburg Game Reserve, I chose not to engage in Socratic dialogue with her at that point. But I am still very very curious....
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Interloper Blog #4 – Pilanesburg Game Reserve and Rhino-Totems
Friday, 12/17, Quince The Elder again.
On Friday, Bill took the day off and we all set off on another family outing at 5:30 in the morning, this time for the Pilanesburg Game Reserve. It is located in the Northwest Province of South Africa, about three hours from Jozi (I love that the long name of Johannesburg has been so cleverly shortened in so many fun ways!). Keep in mind that we are travelling, all five of us, in a sub-compact Peugot, aka The Blue Lion. This makes for some very cozy driving, particularly when the little car must accommodate a 6 foot X Bill, a 5 foot 11 Caroline, a not so shabby 5 foot 7 inch me, and an almost as tall 5 foot 2 Alexander. And little Quince is rapidly catching up at 4 foot X. Caroline very very kindly sandwiched herself between Alexander and little Quince for the outbound 3 hour trip plus the 6 hour tour through the park. At one point, Bill leaned over to me and said: “Left. Right. Black. White. Yes. No.” – referring to the fact that every time Quince said something, Alexander would insist that the opposite was true. Once it was about whether Xhosa was a “click” language. Quince: yes it is! Alexander: no it’s not! Other times it was about history (Quince: “I KNOW MY HISTORY!). And at other times it would be something about nature -- even the nature of the soul (see subsequent blog post), and so on and so on. In any event, surely this earned Caroline either a pair of wings or sainthood, or perhaps both.
And then, the Game Reserve: Alexander had been telling me about “weaver birds” for a couple of days, but we hadn’t come across any of their woven nests yet. But he spied a tree full of them as soon as we arrived. Perhaps a good omen for the animal watching to come?
The dirt roads in the game reserve were a bit worse for the hard rains that had been coming down, and the ruts sometimes were deep enough so the poor Blue Lion, bearing the weight of 3 adults and two children, touched bottom briefly. And some of the lower lying areas were still flooded. We just held out breath hoping that we wouldn’t either stall out or get stuck in the mud because the signs everywhere warned us not to get out of the car, that one should expect to encounter dangerous animals etc. But fortunately, we were never forced to risk sacrificing one of our party to the lions. (I was particularly relieved, since from the rumblings in the car, it sounded like I would be the one voted out of the car to push….)
Fairly quickly we began to see gatherings of Wildebeast, Zebra, Impala, Waterbuck, Reedbuck, Springbok, and the like. Even a jackal, and I could SWEAR I saw a cheetah or a leopard -- there was a distinct flash of spottedness. All pretty amazing for me, but little Quince was very soon bored (she didn’t understand why there were no animals on HER side of the car, and why is it that she NEVER gets to see anything??!). Alexander wasn’t so much bored, as he was jaded about these creatures: “It’s JUST a Zebra.” And later regarding a Springbok: “It’s JUST an Impala with horns.” In trying to understand what Caroline meant when she referred to him as “jaded,” he did learn a second new word, though: blasé. He said he’d seen the word in books, but had thought it was pronounced with a long “a” like “blaze.” At least that made him laugh. And once we began seeing all of the baby animals (it’s summer here, after all), he warmed back up to the animal watching. Alexander filmed one of the babe wildebeasts nursing, and we will try and post that clip later.
We were ALL fascinated with the dung beetles. Two beetles, each about an inch long, working together in the most amazing way to move – and very quickly! – a two inch in diameter perfectly round ball of dung off the road and into the shrub grasses. We were too entranced to even remember to take a picture. And we were all also fascinated with the animals on the other side of the size spectrum: the hippos. They are huge creatures, but mostly they stayed submerged in the water so you’d just see them floating around looking like big flat rocks.
We stopped for a picnic lunch in a safely fenced in area next to a group that was having a jolly time barbecuing up a feast.
At one point, we saw a couple of cars stopped on the side of the dirt road – almost always a sign of an animal sighting of some sort. And there it was: a RHINO. Unfortunately it was walking away from us, so all we could see was its butt.
We truly thought that all we were going to get was Rhino Butt on this trip. Rhino poaching is apparently a serious problem in the Reserve. There is a myth that their horns have medicinal properties, but it is a myth that has developed "legs" and thus has unfortunately created a very lucrative black market for their beautiful scary horns. Despite our worries, lo and behold, we then saw another pair of them, and much closer to the road this time.
And a little while later, a trio of them. And finally, towards the end of the drive: seven of them all together. At one point, they were so close you could actually hear them grazing, hear the tearing of the grass. When they would turn towards us and STARE, it was truly intimidating! We will try and post the video of this. It was an all-Rhinos, all the time kind of day – a very special rhino day. Bill pronounced: big Quince’s specialty is RHINOS. And I decided that perhaps my personal totem is the Rhino. They are awesome but strange looking creatures, with those huge foreheads stretching between ears and eyes, and with those double fierce looking horns.
Towards the end of the drive, we realized that we hadn’t yet seen any elephants or giraffes. Caroline was bemoaning the lack of giraffe sightings – her favorite animal. She acknowledged that perhaps SHE had been a bit jaded by the many many giraffes they had seen on their first trip to Pilanesburg, and had taken that embarrassment of riches for granted. And then we saw one lone giraffe, a bit off the road, but close enough to get a good look. All was right with the world.
On our way out, we made one final stop to see what a little sign said was an historical marker. It was in a little cul de sac at the end of what was barely even a road. The historical marker made it clear that even this place – this game reserve – is deeply marked by the ravages of apartheid. The Reserve was established in 1979. On tribal lands. Which means that the people were forcibly removed from their ancestral lands in 1980. And given economic “restitution” for the theft of their lands in 2008, only two years ago and almost 20 years after the supposed end of apartheid.
For the drive home, Caroline had reached her limit on being snuggled up with C & Alexander for hours, and Bill swapped places with her. I wonder if either of them will ever recover from folding up their long legs into pretzels to fit in that middle back seat. Things of note from the drive home: rival gangs of goats. Informal settlements. People walking along the side of the highway. But more about those in another post.
On Friday, Bill took the day off and we all set off on another family outing at 5:30 in the morning, this time for the Pilanesburg Game Reserve. It is located in the Northwest Province of South Africa, about three hours from Jozi (I love that the long name of Johannesburg has been so cleverly shortened in so many fun ways!). Keep in mind that we are travelling, all five of us, in a sub-compact Peugot, aka The Blue Lion. This makes for some very cozy driving, particularly when the little car must accommodate a 6 foot X Bill, a 5 foot 11 Caroline, a not so shabby 5 foot 7 inch me, and an almost as tall 5 foot 2 Alexander. And little Quince is rapidly catching up at 4 foot X. Caroline very very kindly sandwiched herself between Alexander and little Quince for the outbound 3 hour trip plus the 6 hour tour through the park. At one point, Bill leaned over to me and said: “Left. Right. Black. White. Yes. No.” – referring to the fact that every time Quince said something, Alexander would insist that the opposite was true. Once it was about whether Xhosa was a “click” language. Quince: yes it is! Alexander: no it’s not! Other times it was about history (Quince: “I KNOW MY HISTORY!). And at other times it would be something about nature -- even the nature of the soul (see subsequent blog post), and so on and so on. In any event, surely this earned Caroline either a pair of wings or sainthood, or perhaps both.
And then, the Game Reserve: Alexander had been telling me about “weaver birds” for a couple of days, but we hadn’t come across any of their woven nests yet. But he spied a tree full of them as soon as we arrived. Perhaps a good omen for the animal watching to come?
The dirt roads in the game reserve were a bit worse for the hard rains that had been coming down, and the ruts sometimes were deep enough so the poor Blue Lion, bearing the weight of 3 adults and two children, touched bottom briefly. And some of the lower lying areas were still flooded. We just held out breath hoping that we wouldn’t either stall out or get stuck in the mud because the signs everywhere warned us not to get out of the car, that one should expect to encounter dangerous animals etc. But fortunately, we were never forced to risk sacrificing one of our party to the lions. (I was particularly relieved, since from the rumblings in the car, it sounded like I would be the one voted out of the car to push….)
Fairly quickly we began to see gatherings of Wildebeast, Zebra, Impala, Waterbuck, Reedbuck, Springbok, and the like. Even a jackal, and I could SWEAR I saw a cheetah or a leopard -- there was a distinct flash of spottedness. All pretty amazing for me, but little Quince was very soon bored (she didn’t understand why there were no animals on HER side of the car, and why is it that she NEVER gets to see anything??!). Alexander wasn’t so much bored, as he was jaded about these creatures: “It’s JUST a Zebra.” And later regarding a Springbok: “It’s JUST an Impala with horns.” In trying to understand what Caroline meant when she referred to him as “jaded,” he did learn a second new word, though: blasé. He said he’d seen the word in books, but had thought it was pronounced with a long “a” like “blaze.” At least that made him laugh. And once we began seeing all of the baby animals (it’s summer here, after all), he warmed back up to the animal watching. Alexander filmed one of the babe wildebeasts nursing, and we will try and post that clip later.
We were ALL fascinated with the dung beetles. Two beetles, each about an inch long, working together in the most amazing way to move – and very quickly! – a two inch in diameter perfectly round ball of dung off the road and into the shrub grasses. We were too entranced to even remember to take a picture. And we were all also fascinated with the animals on the other side of the size spectrum: the hippos. They are huge creatures, but mostly they stayed submerged in the water so you’d just see them floating around looking like big flat rocks.
We stopped for a picnic lunch in a safely fenced in area next to a group that was having a jolly time barbecuing up a feast.
At one point, we saw a couple of cars stopped on the side of the dirt road – almost always a sign of an animal sighting of some sort. And there it was: a RHINO. Unfortunately it was walking away from us, so all we could see was its butt.
We truly thought that all we were going to get was Rhino Butt on this trip. Rhino poaching is apparently a serious problem in the Reserve. There is a myth that their horns have medicinal properties, but it is a myth that has developed "legs" and thus has unfortunately created a very lucrative black market for their beautiful scary horns. Despite our worries, lo and behold, we then saw another pair of them, and much closer to the road this time.
And a little while later, a trio of them. And finally, towards the end of the drive: seven of them all together. At one point, they were so close you could actually hear them grazing, hear the tearing of the grass. When they would turn towards us and STARE, it was truly intimidating! We will try and post the video of this. It was an all-Rhinos, all the time kind of day – a very special rhino day. Bill pronounced: big Quince’s specialty is RHINOS. And I decided that perhaps my personal totem is the Rhino. They are awesome but strange looking creatures, with those huge foreheads stretching between ears and eyes, and with those double fierce looking horns.
Towards the end of the drive, we realized that we hadn’t yet seen any elephants or giraffes. Caroline was bemoaning the lack of giraffe sightings – her favorite animal. She acknowledged that perhaps SHE had been a bit jaded by the many many giraffes they had seen on their first trip to Pilanesburg, and had taken that embarrassment of riches for granted. And then we saw one lone giraffe, a bit off the road, but close enough to get a good look. All was right with the world.
On our way out, we made one final stop to see what a little sign said was an historical marker. It was in a little cul de sac at the end of what was barely even a road. The historical marker made it clear that even this place – this game reserve – is deeply marked by the ravages of apartheid. The Reserve was established in 1979. On tribal lands. Which means that the people were forcibly removed from their ancestral lands in 1980. And given economic “restitution” for the theft of their lands in 2008, only two years ago and almost 20 years after the supposed end of apartheid.
For the drive home, Caroline had reached her limit on being snuggled up with C & Alexander for hours, and Bill swapped places with her. I wonder if either of them will ever recover from folding up their long legs into pretzels to fit in that middle back seat. Things of note from the drive home: rival gangs of goats. Informal settlements. People walking along the side of the highway. But more about those in another post.
Interloper Blog #3 - A Day of Arts and Education
Interloper Blog, Thursday 12/16. December 16th in South Africa is a national holiday, the Day of Reconciliation, formerly an Afrikaaner holiday (Day of the Vow) remembering the Battle of Blood River during which many Zulus were killed by a smaller number of gun-toting Boers (Voortrekkers). After the end of apartheid in the early 1990s, the holiday was changed to the Day of Reconciliation, a day to focus on "overcoming the conflicts of the past and building a new nation." A few weeks ago, Caroline asked a few Pridwin parents what the holiday was and they couldn't remember - though one of their daughters did know -- perhaps a generational thing. In any event, Bill had the day off.
And so, with the weather much improved, we embarked upon a full family trip to The Cradle of Humankind and the related Marepang Center, about an hour or so outside of Johannesburg. The ride through the countryside was beautiful. It is hard to describe what it is like here, but it strikes me as somewhat of a cross between northern New Mexico, northern California, and southeastern Pennsylvania, but nonetheless unique and truly not like any of those places.
The Cradle of Humankind is actually a fairly large geographical area, in which are some of the caves where some of the oldest remains of human predecessors have been found. The Marepang Center is a wonderful, interactive, educational center about the origins of humankind. The front of the Center is designed to look like a large grass covered mound resembling an ancient burial site; the rear of the center is, by contrast, very modern in design. See the website at http://www.maropeng.co.za/
After a lunch consisting of burgers & chips (fries) with tomato sauce (ketchup) and toasted sandwiches (grilled cheese) at the Marepang Center café....
we entered the Center itself.......
I confess that I freaked out on the mini-water-ride-tour about the elements – earth, air, wind, fire. After almost tipping us over, which made us all laugh in (naïve) glee, the little round inner-tube-ish boat immediately headed for the opening of a cave the size of a mouse hole. Those who know me know that I am slightly claustrophobic; okay, a lot claustrophobic -- recall post #1 and the climbing out of my airplane coffin-seat? That was a walk in the park compared to this. I literally almost jumped out of the otherwise perfectly safe watercraft to bolt back to the sadistic man who had smilingly gestured me towards my seat on the deceptively innocent looking torture device. But I did not. Instead, I bravely stayed in the boat, with my head squarely clamped between my knees, hands ever-so valiantly shrouding my eyes which stayed courageously focused intently on the hemline of little Quince’s pink dress as though it might unravel if I dared look away. I hear the water tour was fascinating. I couldn't say. But I was told, for instance, that the walls within the cave that was devoted to ice were, in fact, actual ice.
The interactive museum was very enlightening and engaging for all of us – kids and adults alike (although Alexander insists that, as good as it is, it is nonetheless not as “interactive” as the Exploratorium in California). The things we learned and were particularly struck by include:
1) All human beings derive from one common ancestral DNA strand
2) Speaking of that strand: Africa is indeed the birthplace and nurturing “cradle” of that strand
3) Speaking of the early hominids: some of them were very SMALL; Lucy, for instance, was under four feet tall.
4) Speaking of Lucy: she was named for the Beatles song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” to which her discoverers were listening when they found her remains.
5) Speaking of remains: often the remains that are found are just tiny fragments of a skeleton, and it is from those fragments that scientists have been able to deduce all that we currently know about the Origin of our Species (with help from The Beagle and Charles Darwin, of course).
6) Speaking of our species: there have been five previous mass extinctions of living creatures since Earth was first formed. Each of these was caused by something other than human activity: asteroids, massive lava eruptions, etc. We humans are likely to be the cause of the sixth mass extinction. Global warming, here we come...
7) There is a zebra-like extinct animal called something like a Quagga that some scientists are currently trying to re-create using DNA from a stuffed Quagga combined with some living DNA from a similar non-extinct species. Check out Wikipedia's info on the Quagga: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quagga
In the evening, Bill graciously let us (Caroline and me) go out for a night on the town with Caroline’s friend, Zed Tshabalala, for dinner-theatre in the newly revitalized arts area of downtown Johannesburg. The dinner was a small buffet consisting of salad and some surprisingly deLISH-ioso lasagna with rosemary in it, of all things – very traditional South African fare. Dinner was followed by a production of Songs of Migration starring two of South Africa’s performing artist “gems”: Hugh Masekela and Sibongile Khumalo. A number of the songs were in various African languages and were about African miners who relocated away from their families for work, and the families they left behind, there were several African-American spirituals and even one song in Yiddish. Caroline and I gamely laughed along when 2/3 of the audience would laugh at the jokes that were in Zulu or Xhosa. Here's the Artslink info on Songs of Migration: http://www.artlink.co.za/news_article.htm?contentID=23699
Another great day in uMzantsi! That's the name for South Africa in Xhosa -- a big shout out to Tanya Naomi Cruz Teller for teaching us that! Don’t I just sound like a native Johannesburgian?! We have all - with the exception of Bill who wasn't with us at the time -- now learned exactly how to do the "click" required to actually pronounce "Xhosa" correctly. But more about that in another blog....
And so, with the weather much improved, we embarked upon a full family trip to The Cradle of Humankind and the related Marepang Center, about an hour or so outside of Johannesburg. The ride through the countryside was beautiful. It is hard to describe what it is like here, but it strikes me as somewhat of a cross between northern New Mexico, northern California, and southeastern Pennsylvania, but nonetheless unique and truly not like any of those places.
The Cradle of Humankind is actually a fairly large geographical area, in which are some of the caves where some of the oldest remains of human predecessors have been found. The Marepang Center is a wonderful, interactive, educational center about the origins of humankind. The front of the Center is designed to look like a large grass covered mound resembling an ancient burial site; the rear of the center is, by contrast, very modern in design. See the website at http://www.maropeng.co.za/
After a lunch consisting of burgers & chips (fries) with tomato sauce (ketchup) and toasted sandwiches (grilled cheese) at the Marepang Center café....
we entered the Center itself.......
I confess that I freaked out on the mini-water-ride-tour about the elements – earth, air, wind, fire. After almost tipping us over, which made us all laugh in (naïve) glee, the little round inner-tube-ish boat immediately headed for the opening of a cave the size of a mouse hole. Those who know me know that I am slightly claustrophobic; okay, a lot claustrophobic -- recall post #1 and the climbing out of my airplane coffin-seat? That was a walk in the park compared to this. I literally almost jumped out of the otherwise perfectly safe watercraft to bolt back to the sadistic man who had smilingly gestured me towards my seat on the deceptively innocent looking torture device. But I did not. Instead, I bravely stayed in the boat, with my head squarely clamped between my knees, hands ever-so valiantly shrouding my eyes which stayed courageously focused intently on the hemline of little Quince’s pink dress as though it might unravel if I dared look away. I hear the water tour was fascinating. I couldn't say. But I was told, for instance, that the walls within the cave that was devoted to ice were, in fact, actual ice.
The interactive museum was very enlightening and engaging for all of us – kids and adults alike (although Alexander insists that, as good as it is, it is nonetheless not as “interactive” as the Exploratorium in California). The things we learned and were particularly struck by include:
1) All human beings derive from one common ancestral DNA strand
2) Speaking of that strand: Africa is indeed the birthplace and nurturing “cradle” of that strand
3) Speaking of the early hominids: some of them were very SMALL; Lucy, for instance, was under four feet tall.
4) Speaking of Lucy: she was named for the Beatles song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” to which her discoverers were listening when they found her remains.
5) Speaking of remains: often the remains that are found are just tiny fragments of a skeleton, and it is from those fragments that scientists have been able to deduce all that we currently know about the Origin of our Species (with help from The Beagle and Charles Darwin, of course).
6) Speaking of our species: there have been five previous mass extinctions of living creatures since Earth was first formed. Each of these was caused by something other than human activity: asteroids, massive lava eruptions, etc. We humans are likely to be the cause of the sixth mass extinction. Global warming, here we come...
7) There is a zebra-like extinct animal called something like a Quagga that some scientists are currently trying to re-create using DNA from a stuffed Quagga combined with some living DNA from a similar non-extinct species. Check out Wikipedia's info on the Quagga: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quagga
In the evening, Bill graciously let us (Caroline and me) go out for a night on the town with Caroline’s friend, Zed Tshabalala, for dinner-theatre in the newly revitalized arts area of downtown Johannesburg. The dinner was a small buffet consisting of salad and some surprisingly deLISH-ioso lasagna with rosemary in it, of all things – very traditional South African fare. Dinner was followed by a production of Songs of Migration starring two of South Africa’s performing artist “gems”: Hugh Masekela and Sibongile Khumalo. A number of the songs were in various African languages and were about African miners who relocated away from their families for work, and the families they left behind, there were several African-American spirituals and even one song in Yiddish. Caroline and I gamely laughed along when 2/3 of the audience would laugh at the jokes that were in Zulu or Xhosa. Here's the Artslink info on Songs of Migration: http://www.artlink.co.za/news_article.htm?contentID=23699
Another great day in uMzantsi! That's the name for South Africa in Xhosa -- a big shout out to Tanya Naomi Cruz Teller for teaching us that! Don’t I just sound like a native Johannesburgian?! We have all - with the exception of Bill who wasn't with us at the time -- now learned exactly how to do the "click" required to actually pronounce "Xhosa" correctly. But more about that in another blog....
Monday, December 20, 2010
Interloper Blogger - Small Adventures
Interloper Blogger, Q the Elder, Installment #2 – Adapting.
The days are whizzing by way too fast, but full of great adventures. First full day, Wednesday 12/15, was errand day. Sounds mundane, but was lots of fun. It was clear that Maria – see Caroline’s “The White Egg” post from Dec. 10th – was happy to see our backsides heading out the door. Caroline to Maria: “We’re going to go out for a while.” Maria to Caroline: “Good. I can’t clean when you are in the house.”
First was the local tiny library where Caroline happened to check out a copy of the book I had bought her for Christmas, “Country of My Skull” - a compelling book about South Africa. (Very smooth, Q, bringing a book to RSA that is available for free two blocks away.) Then a trip to the local recycling center. Three things of note: 1) they take pretty much everything; 2) you tip the people staffing the recycling center (and the guys who help you in the petrol station, and the guys who “help” you park and un-park in a parking lot – sometimes helpfully, but often unhelpfully such as gesticulating wildly while standing in your blind spot , and….This is the opposite of when I was living in France last summer where NOT tipping was the norm – always there are cultural adjustments; 3) there is an open question as to whether these folks are hired staff, or if they are random people who have an entrepreneurial spirit and station themselves at various points in the recycling center to help sort and receive tips in exchange.
Mixed into the day was dropping Alexander off & picking him up from Pridwin (his school) for cricket camp. They make the crickets build teepee fires, sing camp songs, and other cool stuff. Okay that’s not what they do at cricket camp, but actually I was a puffed up and proud aunt when his cricket instructor told Caroline that Alexander had done a great job in camp that day. It was also really clear, watching him, that he is very much fitting in with his new friends here.
The rain continued to pour down in buckets. Deliciously moody. Except that C & B’s swimming pool began to reach overflow point, and the rain bashing against the many many windows and doors started to create a small estuary system at various points around the house. (Notice the contrast between the gushing -- yes, broken -- rain gutter on the right which only partly captures the feel of the delusge, and the sunny backyard picture on the left, take the following day.)
This wasn’t a huge big deal – water is just water after all, and all of the floors are tile and virtually indestructible, but I have to say that I was just a little disturbed when-- going to bed – I noticed that the water in the guest bedroom was pooling around all of the electrical wires for extensions cords, the wireless system, my cell phone charger etc., all of which were only inches away from the brass bed on which I was to sleep. Maybe brass doesn’t conduct electricity like other metals, but it did give me pause about Caroline and Bill’s intentions for me, particularly in my continued slightly jet-lagged state. Exert control over my psyche w/a little electro-shock? Or create the “electric bed” version of the “electric chair” so that they could sell (or being the dyed in the wool liberals they are, DONATE) my organs to some place or other? Bill reassured me this was not the case when he came in and plucked the electrical equipment – bare handedly – out of the lake.
So far, we are all still surviving.
The days are whizzing by way too fast, but full of great adventures. First full day, Wednesday 12/15, was errand day. Sounds mundane, but was lots of fun. It was clear that Maria – see Caroline’s “The White Egg” post from Dec. 10th – was happy to see our backsides heading out the door. Caroline to Maria: “We’re going to go out for a while.” Maria to Caroline: “Good. I can’t clean when you are in the house.”
First was the local tiny library where Caroline happened to check out a copy of the book I had bought her for Christmas, “Country of My Skull” - a compelling book about South Africa. (Very smooth, Q, bringing a book to RSA that is available for free two blocks away.) Then a trip to the local recycling center. Three things of note: 1) they take pretty much everything; 2) you tip the people staffing the recycling center (and the guys who help you in the petrol station, and the guys who “help” you park and un-park in a parking lot – sometimes helpfully, but often unhelpfully such as gesticulating wildly while standing in your blind spot , and….This is the opposite of when I was living in France last summer where NOT tipping was the norm – always there are cultural adjustments; 3) there is an open question as to whether these folks are hired staff, or if they are random people who have an entrepreneurial spirit and station themselves at various points in the recycling center to help sort and receive tips in exchange.
Mixed into the day was dropping Alexander off & picking him up from Pridwin (his school) for cricket camp. They make the crickets build teepee fires, sing camp songs, and other cool stuff. Okay that’s not what they do at cricket camp, but actually I was a puffed up and proud aunt when his cricket instructor told Caroline that Alexander had done a great job in camp that day. It was also really clear, watching him, that he is very much fitting in with his new friends here.
The rain continued to pour down in buckets. Deliciously moody. Except that C & B’s swimming pool began to reach overflow point, and the rain bashing against the many many windows and doors started to create a small estuary system at various points around the house. (Notice the contrast between the gushing -- yes, broken -- rain gutter on the right which only partly captures the feel of the delusge, and the sunny backyard picture on the left, take the following day.)
This wasn’t a huge big deal – water is just water after all, and all of the floors are tile and virtually indestructible, but I have to say that I was just a little disturbed when-- going to bed – I noticed that the water in the guest bedroom was pooling around all of the electrical wires for extensions cords, the wireless system, my cell phone charger etc., all of which were only inches away from the brass bed on which I was to sleep. Maybe brass doesn’t conduct electricity like other metals, but it did give me pause about Caroline and Bill’s intentions for me, particularly in my continued slightly jet-lagged state. Exert control over my psyche w/a little electro-shock? Or create the “electric bed” version of the “electric chair” so that they could sell (or being the dyed in the wool liberals they are, DONATE) my organs to some place or other? Bill reassured me this was not the case when he came in and plucked the electrical equipment – bare handedly – out of the lake.
So far, we are all still surviving.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Funny South African Cellphone Commercial
The South African Ma Bell, Telkom, is starting a new cellphone company, Heita, (pronounced 8ta). They had some witty commercials, and one cracked me up! I found it on YouTube and I am sharing it below.
By the way, the Sound Track is Queen-"It's a Hard Life".
By the way, the Sound Track is Queen-"It's a Hard Life".
Saturday, December 18, 2010
My (Q, the Elder's) arrival in Johannesburg
Interloper Blogger, Quince (the Elder), here. I arrived in Johannesburg after the lovely 19 hour flight, only slightly worse for wear. Loved the window seat. Did NOT love having to climb over my middle-seat-mate’s sleeping self several times during the trip; I swear she did not get out of her seat even ONCE during the entire flight. I, on the other hand, once freed of my confines, found a lovely narrow little crossover between the two sides of the plane, in which I could sit on the floor and stretch, or get my feet over my head to keep them from swelling like puffy sausages as they now seem to do on long flights, and just in general contort myself into all sorts of positions just so long as they were nothing like the position of a person sitting in an airplane seat. I was eventually joined in this tiny space by two other women who immediately saw the genius of my discovery. One was an “English-Rhodesian” by birth, who lived much of her life in South Africa after her family fled the Mugabe regime, eventually married an American and moved to Seattle, and who was now returning to Johannesburg to care for her dying mother, and the other was an American Kundalini Yoga Instructor. The latter proceeded to put us through our paces. (Just kidding on the “paces” part, but she did make the case for KY (the yoga type, you silly people).
I flew through immigration like it was nothing, and my luggage was among the first bags out of the shute – all 90-100 pounds of it, the contents consisting almost entirely of things for the Hopkins/Macleod clan, although I did manage to squeeze in a few scraps of clothing, a few essential toiletries for myself, and a couple of pairs of shoes – one of which turned out to be a left foot of one pair of brown sandals, and the right foot of a completely different pair of brown sandals. The entire clan was at the airport waiting, standing tall over everyone else and waving, alongside Bill’s boss, Jon, and Jon’s daughter. Bill’s boss had graciously scheduled his layover in Johannesburg to coincide with my flight so that he and Bill could have a meeting at the airport while awaiting my arrival. So very nice of everyone to work their lives around me.
Perhaps this was karmic, but Mother Nature, by contrast, was not so compliant. It’s SUMMER in South Africa, right?? You sure couldn’t tell by the weather. It was cold and rainy rainy rainy. But it didn’t matter: it was so nice to have my feet on the ground (rather than propped up on a wall), and heck: I was on the continent of Africa for the first time in my life, about to embark upon a Great Adventure with absolutely great peeps! What could be better than that?
I flew through immigration like it was nothing, and my luggage was among the first bags out of the shute – all 90-100 pounds of it, the contents consisting almost entirely of things for the Hopkins/Macleod clan, although I did manage to squeeze in a few scraps of clothing, a few essential toiletries for myself, and a couple of pairs of shoes – one of which turned out to be a left foot of one pair of brown sandals, and the right foot of a completely different pair of brown sandals. The entire clan was at the airport waiting, standing tall over everyone else and waving, alongside Bill’s boss, Jon, and Jon’s daughter. Bill’s boss had graciously scheduled his layover in Johannesburg to coincide with my flight so that he and Bill could have a meeting at the airport while awaiting my arrival. So very nice of everyone to work their lives around me.
Perhaps this was karmic, but Mother Nature, by contrast, was not so compliant. It’s SUMMER in South Africa, right?? You sure couldn’t tell by the weather. It was cold and rainy rainy rainy. But it didn’t matter: it was so nice to have my feet on the ground (rather than propped up on a wall), and heck: I was on the continent of Africa for the first time in my life, about to embark upon a Great Adventure with absolutely great peeps! What could be better than that?
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Alexander's Social Life - The Last Two Weeks
Sunday, Nov. 28 Thanksgiving dinner at the Irwins
Thursday, Dec. 2 Andrew Sampson's end of year party at his house
Sunday, Dec. 5 Friend Alexander Roy over for playdate
Monday, Dec. 6 Movie outing with friends, Rahul Shah and Peter Irwin, to see Harry Potter 7 (for the second time)
Tuesday, Dec. 7 Friend Peter Irwin over for playdate and sleepover
Wednesday, Dec. 8 Friend James Lavor over for playdate
Thursday, Dec. 9 Friend Mbali Tshabala over for sleepover and playdate
Hannukah 2010
Every year, we have a wonderful tradition of celebrating Hannukah with our dear friends, Lisa and Kate and their families. I had braced myself for Hannukahless years for the duration of our stay in RSA, but was so pleased when Tanya invited us to celebrate the first night of Hannukah with her as her stand-in family. And then also to come to her bigger celebration on the 5th night.
As we always count on at Tanya's gatherings, those who came were a wonderful collection of folks representing so many cultures and countries. For this night, Tanya had especially invited those of her friends who are open and eager to step in as her family and share her culture and traditions.
Many things were the same as our wonderful Grace, Ellis/Cragg, Hopkins/MacLeod tradition in the states -- the latkas with apple sauce and sour cream, the telling of the story, the lighting of the candles, the great food, and mostly the feeling of being so blessed.
And a few things were different. Tanya had materials available so anyone who was so inclined could make their own hanukkiyah (which I have always incorrectly called a menorah). The table became filled with beautiful handmade hanukkiyahs, and once all were lit, the room positively flickered and glowed with magical light.
Tanya also asked us to write , in the spirit of Hannukah, something we were grateful for, a miracle in our lives, or a freedom we enjoyed. After the lighting of the candles, we could share what we had written and then we all hung our papers on a line strung across the room.
After we ate, the dreidel table was opened, and soon the peaceful, blessed feeling was replaced by the adrenelin of intense competition. The stakes were high - chocolate and fizzy pops. Laps were filled and depleted of booty as the dreidel spun. Civility went out the window. We thought best to make our departure when both our kids had a bag each full of cavity producers, and only a few tears had been shed. As Donkey says in A Shrek Christmas, it isn't Christmas until somebody cries, and I imagine the same applies to a Hannukah well celebrated.
Let me end by saying, thank you universe for putting Tanya in our lives to give us family here in South Africa.
Many things were the same as our wonderful Grace, Ellis/Cragg, Hopkins/MacLeod tradition in the states -- the latkas with apple sauce and sour cream, the telling of the story, the lighting of the candles, the great food, and mostly the feeling of being so blessed.
And a few things were different. Tanya had materials available so anyone who was so inclined could make their own hanukkiyah (which I have always incorrectly called a menorah). The table became filled with beautiful handmade hanukkiyahs, and once all were lit, the room positively flickered and glowed with magical light.
Tanya also asked us to write , in the spirit of Hannukah, something we were grateful for, a miracle in our lives, or a freedom we enjoyed. After the lighting of the candles, we could share what we had written and then we all hung our papers on a line strung across the room.
After we ate, the dreidel table was opened, and soon the peaceful, blessed feeling was replaced by the adrenelin of intense competition. The stakes were high - chocolate and fizzy pops. Laps were filled and depleted of booty as the dreidel spun. Civility went out the window. We thought best to make our departure when both our kids had a bag each full of cavity producers, and only a few tears had been shed. As Donkey says in A Shrek Christmas, it isn't Christmas until somebody cries, and I imagine the same applies to a Hannukah well celebrated.
Let me end by saying, thank you universe for putting Tanya in our lives to give us family here in South Africa.
Quince's Christmas Cookie Cooking Class
As mentioned in the last post, Quince didn't have a lot lined up for these first few weeks of the summer holiday. But just before school ended, we learned that one of her classmate's mothers was offering a cooking class for kids. So we jumped on the opportunity and got Quince signed up for two classes. She came home with beautiful crafty cookie creations.
Quince and Mom Go to Tea
As of December 1, the kids have been out of school. For months, we've known that Alexander would do a 1/2 day computer class for the first week of the break, but really didn't have anything in particular lined up for Quince. A couple of weeks ago, I had been to a very sweet cafe for tea, Patisserie, and immediately thought Quince would love it. So, I decided a special Mommy-Quince outing for tea was in order to kick off the summer holiday.
We spent Monday and Tuesday morning shopping for a special tea outing outfit. And then Wednesday morning we went to Patisserie for tea and scones. Quince and I talked about what she missed about America (friends and our house) and what she liked about being in South Africa. Her answer was more Mommy time -- what a good reminder for me to relax about not working much and just to enjoy the luxury of time with my kids.
Friday, December 10, 2010
The White Egg
As Bill took Maria, our housekeeper to the taxi stand (don't picture a yellow cab, but rather a 16 passenger van transporting those without cars to and from work stopping whereever a passenger waves them down), she told him she had taken one of our eggs - a white egg. She had taken the egg to show her niece because neither Maria nor the niece had ever seen a white egg! She asked Bill suspiciously, "What kind of chicken lays a white egg?" And then asked him if he'd ever seen a snake's egg - perhaps suspecting that it was in fact a snake's egg.
She told me today that she still had the egg in her fridge and she showed it to everyone who came over - not one of her friends or family members have ever seen a white egg. Who knew white eggs would be such a novelty? I guess in a country with 80 some percent brown people, it makes sense to have brown eggs as the norm.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Milestone
1) The other day in the car, Alexander said to me, "We're going after the 2020 Olympics." Curious as to whom he meant by "we", I asked him. Response: South Africa!
2) Recently, I noticed that Alexander wouldn't wear his Red Sox baseball cap. At first he said it didn't really fit him anymore, but then confessed that he actually wanted one with a South African team logo. (not to worry though, he still follows all American sports and was just estatic this morning when he learned of some player that the Red Sox had acquired.)
3) In another car trip, Alexander said something about someone "having to go to hospital," -- notice the lack of "the" before hospital. This annoyed Quince, who was in a very bad mood to begin with, and she complained, "do you have to speak African when there are no Africans around??" Alexander calmly replied that is was good to speak like people here do in order to get used to it. (to give the full story on Quince - she is constantly correcting me when I say napkin instead of serviette.)
And to think, he was the child whose adjustment I was most worried about.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Indoor Outdoor Living in SA
One of my most favorite things about South Africa is this concept of indoor/outdoor living spaces. Picture your living room opening onto another room that has 1-3 walls open to the outside. In this space you put real furniture - not deck furniture. You might have a living room space and a dining room space. Many people equip this space to serve them year-round, because on most days, even in winter, it is warm enough to enjoy a cup of coffee out there, and at night you can put a heater or two, and even drop down some bamboo mats to make it keep the warmth in.
I took these photos at a house we went to for a braai (b-b-que). I realize it doesn't really do the concept justice but taking pictures from the light into the dark or vice versa is too tricky for my amateur skills.
I took these photos at a house we went to for a braai (b-b-que). I realize it doesn't really do the concept justice but taking pictures from the light into the dark or vice versa is too tricky for my amateur skills.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
What I Do All Day Long
Now I know many of you have been wondering what the heck it is I do all day long. Well you're probably not really wondering because you're probably not spending a lot of time thinking about it at all. But I know I keep scratching my head about how I can go from working nearly full time to now barely working, and still be so super busy. I've thought about just publishing my to do lists, which would probably make me feel like less of a slacker, but would probably be kind of boring.
There are/were lots of logistics to attend to - like figuring out health insurance. We have good solid Blue Cross Blue Shield which doesn't do us a lick of good here. So I looked into South African Health insurance. It seemed like a good idea - and then seemed like an exceptionally good idea when I learned that a private hospital here will not treat you unless you can show you have SA insurance or can pay a huge amount up front. They will stabilize you and then move you to a government hospital unless you show the goods - yikes. B, Gordon and Anne, and Marie - you'll be happy to know we now have SA hospital insurance (in addition to our useless blue cross blue shield - which we're keeping just in case).
Okay that was a digression. Other logistics - figuring out how phone contracts work here, registering family with state department, gym memberships, finding household help (worthy of a blog entry itself), getting us library cards, figuring out how to recycle and . . . yawn, yawn - but that was my life.
And as you might remember from earlier blogs, I spent inordinate amounts of time making sure the kids were properly kitted out for school and sport. And my goodness, the amount of time I spend cultivating and managing their social lives. Alexander in particular has a thriving social life (again, worthy of its own entry) - invites all the time, which is part because he just fits in, and part because Pridwin families and boys are really friendly. And I am inviting the kid's friends over all the time too to help Alexander solidify his friendships and Quince to develop hers. Can I put Social Secretary on my resume?
Added to thriving social lives are thriving extracurricular lives. Alexander had cricket and tennis lessons, and Quince had karate class. Fortunately all at their respective schools, but researching and signing up and coordination involved none-the-less. More on this in another blog perhaps.
As you also know from earlier blogs, there were days and days of house hunting. Landing the house brought on furniture research and shopping - (we finally bought beds this past weekend. Yay. We move in with a few sofas, a bed for each of us, and dining room table and chairs. And if all goes according to plan, we will have also purchased our dishwasher, washing machine and fridge by move-in time too.)
I think I may have mentioned somewhere along the way what an ordeal food shopping was - not knowing where anything in the store is, or even if they carried the particular item I wanted. Not to mention the on-going stress of food prices. Shopping used to be a 2 hour ordeal. Well, I have turned a corner on that - I now know my store well enough that I can make my lists in the order of the store aisles. What do you think of that exciting development???
To continue the housewife theme, for the first time in our married life, I am doing all the cooking and meal planning. I really feel like a 50's housewife when I look for new recipes to break up the routine - though I have Epicurious rather than Good Housekeeping. Truth be told, I can't say that I am gracefully embracing this part of the stay-at-home role as I never have pictured myself as the happy homemaker, and this seems the closest to it.
Okay - on a bit more exciting note: I've been a travel agent too - planned our half term trip to Mpumalanga, planned sister Quinces two-week visit here (yay - she'll be here in one week!!), planned our January holiday to Wilderness, and am soon to begin planning for Kate's visit in February - YIPPEEEE!!
Are you noticing how I am doing a lot of spending money, but not a whole lot of earning it? I sure am. I've told Bill he must get a second job!
(In fact, I have been doing a bit of work for YouthBuild International which has been great! Reminds me that I do know a little something beyond how to manage a schedule and cook up Moroccan Lemon Chicken. And helps me pay for a tennis lesson or two.)
There are/were lots of logistics to attend to - like figuring out health insurance. We have good solid Blue Cross Blue Shield which doesn't do us a lick of good here. So I looked into South African Health insurance. It seemed like a good idea - and then seemed like an exceptionally good idea when I learned that a private hospital here will not treat you unless you can show you have SA insurance or can pay a huge amount up front. They will stabilize you and then move you to a government hospital unless you show the goods - yikes. B, Gordon and Anne, and Marie - you'll be happy to know we now have SA hospital insurance (in addition to our useless blue cross blue shield - which we're keeping just in case).
Okay that was a digression. Other logistics - figuring out how phone contracts work here, registering family with state department, gym memberships, finding household help (worthy of a blog entry itself), getting us library cards, figuring out how to recycle and . . . yawn, yawn - but that was my life.
And as you might remember from earlier blogs, I spent inordinate amounts of time making sure the kids were properly kitted out for school and sport. And my goodness, the amount of time I spend cultivating and managing their social lives. Alexander in particular has a thriving social life (again, worthy of its own entry) - invites all the time, which is part because he just fits in, and part because Pridwin families and boys are really friendly. And I am inviting the kid's friends over all the time too to help Alexander solidify his friendships and Quince to develop hers. Can I put Social Secretary on my resume?
Added to thriving social lives are thriving extracurricular lives. Alexander had cricket and tennis lessons, and Quince had karate class. Fortunately all at their respective schools, but researching and signing up and coordination involved none-the-less. More on this in another blog perhaps.
As you also know from earlier blogs, there were days and days of house hunting. Landing the house brought on furniture research and shopping - (we finally bought beds this past weekend. Yay. We move in with a few sofas, a bed for each of us, and dining room table and chairs. And if all goes according to plan, we will have also purchased our dishwasher, washing machine and fridge by move-in time too.)
I think I may have mentioned somewhere along the way what an ordeal food shopping was - not knowing where anything in the store is, or even if they carried the particular item I wanted. Not to mention the on-going stress of food prices. Shopping used to be a 2 hour ordeal. Well, I have turned a corner on that - I now know my store well enough that I can make my lists in the order of the store aisles. What do you think of that exciting development???
To continue the housewife theme, for the first time in our married life, I am doing all the cooking and meal planning. I really feel like a 50's housewife when I look for new recipes to break up the routine - though I have Epicurious rather than Good Housekeeping. Truth be told, I can't say that I am gracefully embracing this part of the stay-at-home role as I never have pictured myself as the happy homemaker, and this seems the closest to it.
Okay - on a bit more exciting note: I've been a travel agent too - planned our half term trip to Mpumalanga, planned sister Quinces two-week visit here (yay - she'll be here in one week!!), planned our January holiday to Wilderness, and am soon to begin planning for Kate's visit in February - YIPPEEEE!!
Are you noticing how I am doing a lot of spending money, but not a whole lot of earning it? I sure am. I've told Bill he must get a second job!
(In fact, I have been doing a bit of work for YouthBuild International which has been great! Reminds me that I do know a little something beyond how to manage a schedule and cook up Moroccan Lemon Chicken. And helps me pay for a tennis lesson or two.)
Alexander's Grade 5 Teacher
We love that Dougie Van der Westhuizen (whose name I still cannot pronounce with the proper Afrikaan's accent.) And he loved Alexander. Thought he was a very bright (true enough) well mannered (really???) boy. Couldn't have asked for someone better for Alexander for his intro to school in South Africa. Dougie (as fortunately we parents were allowed to call him) loved these boys and their antics, and clearly loved teaching. Alexander called him Sir -as in "Sir told us today that if we were good he would take us to the movies."
This week, Sir is running a week-long 1/2 day computer camp for the boys - which starts at 7:30 and ends at 11:30 every day. Alexander told me today that it really ends at 11, but I've been picking him up at 11:30 and I think I'll keep that up. Really - what kind of camp starts at 7:30 during the summer holidays and then ends at 11:00 - what help is that to parents! I paid good money for this camp, and I might even pick him up at noon tomorrow so I get my money's worth.
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