This is an old post that was written back in December but not posted.
Another couple of inches and we would be skiing.
Two days ago, after a hot day the skies clouded over and rain poured down, thunder clapping right overhead. Quince was looking out the picture window and yelled for us to come look - the rain was pushing all these moths out of the ground. No wait, not moths - it was crickets jumping into the air. We ran over to look, and quickly realized it was hail coming down, hitting the ground hard, and bouncing back up.
Yesterday, same thing, hot, hot day bringing on intense thunderstorm with hail, dropping the temperature at least 20 degrees in a few minutes. The kids, along with two friends over for playdates, watched the rain and hail come down, and then couldn't resist.
They suited up in warm rain gear and went out to play in the hail storm.
I am feeling particularly in love with South Africa at the moment and thus my flurry of blogs. One of the things I have come to luxuriate in are the cut flowers. Since I am not gardening - which I don't miss - I have occassionally allowed myself the luxury of having beautiful cut flowers in our house. I go to Dunkeld Fruit and Flower and wander amongst the buckets of color. I spend 30 minutes putting together a bouquet - just ask Kate who called the process something like epic (I don't think she meant in a good way).
I start with something that catches my eye - usually a flower that is unusual (at least to my American eye), like proteas or these minature birds of paradise. Then I wonder around looking for what might go with it. Adding some, taking away others, determining what is the perfect filler green, until I am satisfied. Then I take it to the guys behind the bouquet counter and they snip and arrange and wrap in cellophane, tie with a big bow, and hand our joint creation back to me.
The Protea-The Giant Protea is the National Flower of South Africa What pleasure I get both in the process and in my days of enjoying them in my house. Even now as I write this, I can't help but occasionally glance over and smile at how beautiful they are.
One challenge of moving to a new place is making friends . For some reason, I guess being a relatively friendly person myself, I didn't fully anticipate how hard it would be to transition aquaintances into friends. In fact, this has nothing to do with South Africans per se, who are by and large extraordinarily friendly, just that breaking into existing friendship circles is difficult. So I go to these school events, for example, and even with the wine that I spoke of in my earlier post, it sometimes felt a little lonely as I have no real go-to people yet that I can hang with. All the work was on my side to break into existing clusters of friends to chat - exhausting. I reached my limit of this and decided to do something about it. So, last night we hosted our first margarita and guacamole happy hour for a bunch of Pridwin parents. (Also served as a fantastic excuse to buy the next wave of items to make our house nice - like pots and plants --I thought maybe I left that obsession behind in the States but it turns out it is just as fun here and whole new kinds of plants to learn about. ) All well and good, you are saying, but get to the Spoiled Rotten part. This was a party for about 12-14 people for a couple of hours - not dinner - just margaritas, wine and apps. Bill and I have plenty of experience entertaining and certainly could have pulled this off with no help. But then I asked myself why not get help? Why not ask our housekeeper to stay later and help -and it works for her too because she can earn some nice extra money. So, Trica did her usual cleaning of our house - which is one reason I am already spoiled beyond repair, then spruced up our outdoor living area, then she was sous -chef to my appetizer making. And then while I showered (despite all this help I still only had 20 minutes to get myself presentable - what is wrong with me?), she covered and moved all our apps out to the patio. While we were entertaining, she zipped the kitchen back to order and post-party, she cleared everything away and in a jiff everything was done. Can you imagine - I did not put one left-over away (of course, I found out later that most sadly ended in the trash), wash one glass, wipe one counter. Luxury beyond luxury! But as if this weren't enough, I had asked our gardener to come during the evening of the party to let people in and out of our security gate and watch their cars so nothing would happen to them. (I really will get to that blog on security). He then suggested that rather than come his normal day to do the yard work, he do the gardening the day of the party instead so the yard would look its best. And remember those pots and plants I mentioned before - suffice it to say I was not the one who actually potted them. (Efron also was very happy to have the extra work/money too as he sends it back home to Malawi). I am doing my best to keep my head on straight and to be ever so grateful for this luxurious help, and never become too used to it. In fact, as you can imagine, as nice as it is, coming from my solidly middle-class background, it is a little hard to justify having all this help. But, as more than one person has pointed out to us, with unemployment being so astronomically high in this country (some reports put it at 40%!), who are we to not employ people when we can afford it.
Perhaps given my last post, this one may be ill-timed. Be that as it may, let me share with you one of the many things I find delightful about life here.
For those of you who have or have had school-age kids, you might especially appreciate this feature of South African life. At almost every late afternoon, evening school event there is wine. Before the school play, buy a glass of wine at the cash bar (serving also as a fundraiser for the school or PTA), and if you like take it into the auditorium with you. At the Back to School Parent Night, bring a bottle of wine, put it in the communal ice bucket and sip away as you listen to the headmistress talk about the coming year. Going to your son's waterpolo tournament, bring a cooler with a few bottles of wine and some glasses and share around. Now mind you, no one is getting drunk, or really even tipsy. We just sip away and enjoy the evening so much more.
My one disappointment is that they did not have wine at the parent-teacher night. Now wouldn't everyone have been so much more relaxed and found it so much more enjoyable if we could talk about our son with his teachers over a glass of wine?
Let me add, this feature only applies to events post 5:00pm. Prior to that, like at these endless cricket matches, the hosting school provides tea for the parents. A lovely table set up with china cups and saucers, perhaps a few cookies and serve yourself coffee or tea.
Since I can't bring the weather, I think I might figure out a way to at least bring this custom back to the states.
The other day as I was enjoying my little bottle of pinotage on a domestic South African Airways flight - yes that is right, complimentary wine and snack even on my 75 min flight, gotta love this country - I glanced at the warning label as one does and guess what it said? Don't Drink and Walk in the Road - You May Be Killed.
One thing I think this illuminates, besides the high rate of alcohol abuse in this country, is how many people rely on walking as their mode of transport. People walk on small roads, highways, on-ramps, across fields. . . When we first got here, it was so weird to be zooming down the highway and see people walking along the breakdown lane, or more disconcertingly, running across the highways to get to the houses on the other side.
Given this high rate of walking, you'd think sidewalks (or pavements as they are called here) would be plentiful and in good shape, but of course, the exact opposite is true. So people walk in the road. And cars, by custom though apparently not by law, have the right of way. When I wave a pedestrian to go ahead and cross, she will look somewhat bewildered and then scurry across perhaps afraid I was only kidding and plan on running her over. Or sometimes when I am lucky, I get a big smile like I have done a Mother Teresa kindness. I like those times.
Now, let me be clear. There is a certain segment of the population that hardly ever walks - and if they do, it is for exercise and then best done in a group. I belong to this latter category. A combination of affluence allowing us to own cars and then afford the petrol, and fears about crime drive us, no pun intended, to rely on our cars for every little errand. One parent of a Pridwin boy was joking that her son would get killed trying to cross the road because he has had no experience with it. Maybe we just need the warning, Don't Walk in the Road - You May Be Killed.
Last month when we went to Madikwe, we came across a Bull elephant in "musth": suffering from severe testosterone poisoning--up to 60 times greater than normal levels! This bull was watering itself at a pond. Our guide mentioned that he was quite excited and you can see that in the video when he is peeing. I guess he didn't like us filming him as he gave us a charge to let us know who was boss! This was probably a "fake" charge as an elephant will pull back its ears to protect them in a real charge. Fake or not, you don't want to stick around when a 5 ton behemoth is moving your way.
Later in the video you will see two young male elephants showing who is stronger and tougher by banging into trees, trying to topple trees and whacking each other with their trunks. This is standard behavior among young male elephants, but they are not likely to cause each other injury because they have nothing to really fight over. They still can do a number on the trees!
South African Currency is colorful and instead of displaying dead presidents it has wildlife much like Canadian Currency. In fact, the five animals on the currency make up the famous Big Five. The interesting thing is that the size or power of the animal doesn't correspond to its value. The mighty rhinoceros is pictured on the lowly 10 rand note.
Rhinoceros
Elephant
Lion
Buffalo
The rare Leopard is found on the elusive 200 Rand note
Quince’s recent obsession has been Moshi Monsters.Moshi Monsters are Japanese anime-styled cartoon monsters which have different personalities.There are Moshi Monster books and a web-site, of course.There is the free version of the web-site and then the paid subscription part where you get more monsters and can do more with them.
Quince has been drawing the Moshi Monsters and sharing them with her classmates at school.When she first started drawing them, she was besieged by her classmates clamoring for a drawing.Things have calmed down more recently.
She has also branched out into Moshi Monster currency and hopes to start a Moshi Monster market economy!
Quince has been taking Karate lessons here through an afternoon program at her school.It has been great to see the progress that she has made.She is a yellow belt and will test for her orange belt next month.She is practicing regularly at home. Hi-ya!
Eyes forward, ready to begin a "kata." Ichi, ni, san...
She especially likes to kick.So far, no object or person has been hurt!
Kate, Alexander, and Caroline enjoying a moment on a game drive.
Kate Ellis was visiting with us last weekend. (Kate wins the prize for first non-family member to visit us on a non-work related trip.) We planned her trip to coincide with Alexander and Quince’s mid-term break, which consisted of Thursday afternoon, Friday and the following Monday.
Lions, and rhinoceros, and elephants: Oh, my! Quince hanging out with two female and one male (you can see his ears visible to the right of the females) lion who had just missed a wildebeest. They were about 40 feet away and ignored us.
We took the opportunity to visit Madikwe Nature Reserve, which is about 4 ½ hours drive outside of Johannesburg, very close to Gaborone, the capital city of Botswana. You can only enter Madikwe if you are staying at one of the lodges in the reserve. Also, all the driving for game viewing is done by guides who are employees of the game lodges.
Just call me Goofy! I should sue Bill for capturing such a silly photo of me and posting it on the internet!
We left early on Friday morning for the reserve and arrived for a mid-afternoon lunch. We were shown to our accommodations: platform tents with metal roofs and canvas sides. The lodge we stayed at was an eco-friendly lodge, meaning, in part, that it had no electricity and no plumbing. While it was rustic, it was also luxurious. All of our meals were prepared for us, our rooms were cleaned in the morning, it had a nice open-air lounge and the nighttime star-gazing was spectacular.
This is us posing with our guide for the weekend in front of the Land Rover. The cover on the top was priceless! It helped keep out the sun and the rain.
Each day consisted of 2 game drives, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. We would be awoken before sunrise to go on a 3 to 4 hour morning drive. We would stop for a coffee and tea break during the drive and we would return for a hearty breakfast. We would then hang out until 4:45 pm when we would go for another 3 to 4 hour game drive. Before we departed we would pack a cooler of drinks for a “sundowner” out in the reserve. Dinner would follow our return and after hanging out a bit to enjoy the stars, we would be off to bed.
Please pass the peanuts. Enjoying a sundowner in the middle of our evening game drive.
This was a completely different experience than our game drives in Pilanesburg where Caroline or I would be at the wheel. First, we were in a large Land Rover with stadium-like seating, so we were high above things looking down. Second, the Land Rover would go off road and along roads that would have stranded our Peugeot. Most importantly, we had a trained guide who would track animals, answer our questions, know where to go, and would communicate with his fellow guides as to the locations of animals. I think game drives are all about serendipitous moments where you round a bend and see a wild animals, and this was absolutely true about Madikwe. However, the number of these moments was much higher on this trip with the guide than our self-guided tours.
The King of the Beasts doing what he loves best: sleeping!
Been forever since we have blogged! Sorry about that. We have moved into a great new house, but we have no cheap internet that allows us to spend Saturday mornings uploading photos and videos. This will all change soon, hopefully.
Last Saturday we had a family effort to put together this video. Alexander was the prime mover on this. We hope you enjoy!
Interloper Blogger Q, the Elder owes one last long blog before the Hopkins/Macleod's return from their vacation, but just one comment for now: I am only one week back to the states, and I am already halfway through my jar of hot mango atchar. And am frantically trying to find a state-side source for it before I run out. Next time I go to RSA? I will still pack a suitcase full of the "necessities" the Hopkins/Macleods require (grape jelly, reese's cups etc.) but it will only be so that I have an empty suitcase to stuff with this amazing spicy tangy condiment that goes as well with lamb curry as it does with eggs and...I'm thinking "melon" at the moment....soon-to-sign-off-guest-blogger-Q
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....
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, 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....
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.
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".
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?
