The Great Trek, part 2

Welcome to part 2 in a ?? part series…I’ll let you know how many parts it is once I finish saying what I got to say ;) Oh yeah, the “Great Trek” is an allusion to the long journey the ancestors of the Afrikaans people in SA took in the early 1800s. It was like their version of pioneering into the wild lands of “here be lions” Africa. There was a group of Dutch farmers that did not dig the rules imposed by the government in the Cape (I think mostly the disputes revolved around paying taxes and not being allowed to keep slaves anymore) so they left and headed inland…eventually ending up in the area where I live now. These pioneers were called “voortrekkers” which I think means forward trekkers/migrators or something in Afrikaans. There is a Voortrekker St in just about every town around where I stay and even a monument to the Voortrekkers in Pretoria…a massive stone tribute to the ancestors. I thought it was appropriate to rip off this phrase in describing my own voyages of the last month or so…

Last we left off I was in Swaziland visiting with Rotarians and giving speeches…

So I visited 3 clubs in Swaziland: Manzini Club, Malkerns Club, and Matsapha Club. I spoke at all 3 and also gave a speech at a high school for girls. I spoke about myself mostly, but also gave a speech on radio in honor of my baby radio station’s (in the USA) (WRFU, Radio Free Urbana) 2nd birthday. WRFU turned 2 years old at 5pm on November 13th…the first time we went live in 2005. Congrats!!!!! The radio speech was the best because people were really interested in the topic (a testimonial to radio’s weight around the world) and I got into a lot of good discussions and received a lot of good questions. None of the clubs had powerpoint ready for me, so I had to give free form speeches…but it was all good. I just wish I could have shared my photos! They really are worth a thousand words!!!

In Swaziland a custom I observed w/respect to Rotary meetings was a toast to the king, King Mswati III. Swaziland is one of the last remaining monarchies in the world. I don’t really know how that plays out for the people, although I’m guessing that the King doesn’t do much for the people as he seems to be very very wealthy and his people seem to be extremely poor. PS: The King uses DeKalb corn in some of his fields…Midwest represent! And you KNOW I got a photo of that…

Manzini is one of the main towns (although still fairly small) in Swaziland, besides the capital city of Mbabane. Manzini is the place I called home for most of the week when I stayed with Julian. Julian’s a young Rotarian (I would guess late 30s/early 40s) who has her own business doing environmental impact assessments (something done in conjunction w/building and developing). As I said, she has 2 kids: Letu (13) and Phephiswa (1½)…both boys. There is also a housekeeper/nanny that stays in the house, Jabu. It was really great to stay with Julian. It was nice to be a part of a good family for a week and to hang with young kids. It was particularly cool to spend time with Letu because he’s really smart, inquisitive, and eager with the questions. And you can tell that the way his mother raised him is very open to the world such that when you speak to him you don’t have to choose your words so carefully. I mean he’s still 13, so you can’t necessarily speak to him like an adult, but he’s been exposed to a lot so you don’t have to worry that maybe you are corrupting a youth. You don’t have to think in the back of your head “Is this something I should be speaking about or is it something that only the parents should speak to their kids about.” I really like that in kids and in parents because sometimes I think kids are so sheltered that when life happens to them they don’t know how to deal with it.

The Manzini club was a good sized club and mixed as far as age and race. In fact, most of the Swazi clubs were very mixed with respect to age and race…which reflects how Swaziland differs socially from South Africa. This is the club I gave my radio speech to and I think it was my favorite speech that I gave. I love to talk about radio and it was nice to get feedback about radio in Swaziland (100% government controlled) and to hear people’s impressions of radio. Manzini Club meets on Monday and during the day Julian showed me some of the projects the club is involved with. We went to an orphanage that is on a farm. The Manzini Club took this orphanage as their Millenium Project (a project done thru Rotary in honor of the 100 years of Rotary, which was celebrated a few years ago) and the club sponsored the building of some dormitories there, a tractor, and an irrigation system. It was a really nice place and I wouldn’t mind being an orphan if I could live at a place like that. They had huge tracts of fruits and vegetables planted: papaya, corn, cabbage, sweet potato, spinach, tomato, green beans, and probably more. We also checked out a preschool that the Manzini Club helped to build. And we went to a hospital where the club sponsored sitting room furniture, a TV for the children’s ward, ambulances (2, I think), and maybe some other things that I have now forgotten.

Tuesday I went to Malkerns Valley and stayed the night with another Rotarian, Angela. She stays out in this beautiful valley surrounded by pineapple fields. Her property borders a game reserve, so I saw zebras and Nguni cows (an indigenous speckled breed) chowing grass together on the other side of her garden…nice! Angela lives by herself with a few people that work in her house and gardens. She has a gigantic great dane and a tiny terrier. It was nice to get a change of scenery and Angela is a very nice lady, so it was a good time in Malkerns. I like staying with older people sometimes because it grounds me a bit in a different reality. It’s sort of like visiting a grandma, aunt, or uncle. You need to be on your best behavior and remember to not act like a crazy 26-yr old. It’s good (as a young person) to be put in this situation because sometimes I don’t have to buckle down and act right. Staying with older people makes me remember that not everyone is living the unbuckled life I am and that I need to respect them too. It’s a good lesson I guess…and if you are listening, people different from you always have something to teach you. Especially older people.

Angela set up the high schooler talk for me, so I gave that speech during the day and at night visited the Malkerns Club. Malkerns is a small farming community, so the club was also very small. But, as I’ve found here in Southern Africa and at home, the best clubs are the ones that are outside the big cities. They are usually the most informal and jovial. Good-natured teasing and friendly. Malkerns definitely fit this model. I think it’s one of the best clubs I’ve been to in D9250. And they actually cook dinner (Angela’s house lady cooks the meal) and eat together. Many clubs that I’ve visited here do not have a meal together. Some of them share snacks and drinks, but it’s just not the same as sharing a meal with people. I understand that it can be very expensive to have a catered meal here, so many clubs opt out of eating together…but there is something so nice about having a meal with your colleagues. The clubs I’ve been to that have a meal are: Pretoria W, Hatfield (Pretoria), Malkerns (Swaziland), Matsapha (Swaziland), White River (SA). So that’s 5 clubs out of the 10 clubs I’ve been to here in D9250 that eat a proper meal together during their meetings.

I visited one of the projects that Malkerns Club sponsors, a “care point.” A care point seems to be a place where kids from the community come to get some learning as well as a meal. There was a small building with 2 classrooms and a separate outside cooking area. The cooking area featured a special oven setup designed by one of the members of the Malkerns Club. The Lion Stove is a stove that takes less fuel and creates less smoke (I think). One of the members of the Malkerns Club is an inventor from Canada. An interesting guy to say the least. I’ve never met an inventor before and it was certainly a pleasure to hear about this guy’s projects. Dad and Ben, you would love this guy! I also met a really nice older man from Pennsylvania, in the horticulture business, that has since relocated to Swaziland. It was great to talk USA shop with him ;) Sometimes it’s refreshing to meet people from home cos I don’t really meet that many Americans here…although most people here know something about the USA due to our incredibly good ability to spread our culture around the globe. Ice cold Coca Cola anyone?

Quick on the USA tip…I was in the grocery store w/Angela buying some food for the Rotary dinner. There was a guy walking around and when he spoke I thought I detected an American “twang” to his voice…sure enough a few minutes later he came by and asked if we knew where to buy turkey in Swaziland. Dead give away…an American celebrating Thanksgiving. It was a few days before Thanksgiving at this point. I didn’t celebrate because I didn’t plan ahead and I don’t really need to celebrate my holidays here. I need to celebrate SA holidays, right? But I hope you all digested enough pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes for me too J

It was also nice to visit Malkerns because it’s my Swaziland name place. Years ago when I was in Swaziland with my dad I visited a Swazi friend I knew from university. We took him back to his house and met his family, who only spoke siSwati. Grandma had a hard time saying our last name (Melchi) and so she just called me Malkerns…close enough I guess! So it was nice to finally see my Swazi name place J

Wednesday I went to the Matsapha club in the morning and then left for South Africa in the late morning. Matsapha is an industrial area in between Manzini and Mbabane…I guess smack dab in the middle of what could loosely be construed as the Manzini/Mbabane megalopolis. Not exactly a megalopolis, but probably the most populated section of Swaziland. Matsapha was another friendly Swazi club. I wasn’t able to see any of their projects because I had to get back to SA, but I’m sure I’ll be back in Swaziland soon! You can bet on that. It was nice to go to the Matsapha club because I saw a guy (Bheki) that I spoke with a lot at conference. I forgot he was from Swaziland, so it was a nice surprise to see his smiley face in Matsapha…especially cos the club met at 7am before my morning coffee. I also gave a speech at this club.

Wednesday I also went back to Pretoria via kombi as there is not really any other way to get from Manzini to SA. I had to go back to Pretoria to take my last final exam in Genetics. The sick test. I wanted to get back in order to have some more cramming…I mean studying…time. I stayed with a guy I’ve been “kickin’ it” with, Charlie, cos I had moved out of my dorm room. “Kickin’ it” is the best phrase I can bring from the USA. It’s super expressive and vague at the same time, which is precisely why I love it. You can kick it with friends (meaning you are hanging out with them, relaxing with them). You can kick it with a cute boy you like (meaning anything from hanging out, kissing, and more). You can kick it alone (hanging out). The phrase just has a nice vibe to it…relaxed, chillin’, maybe getting some lovin’…it’s all covered with “kickin’ it.”

I’ve been kickin’ it with Charlie for maybe a month now. I had been meaning to get to know him better since the beginning of the year, but for various reasons just never did. I remember the first time I saw him in my dorm (we lived in the same dorm complex this year)…it was at the welcome braai (bbq) at the beginning of the year. He was wearing an army helmet and cape made out of a South African flag. I just thought “this is a guy I need to meet.” I got lost in a swirl of freaking out and being upset and away from home, so I never talked to him. Shoot, even that night at the braai I was so upset (for reasons I do not remember now, thankfully) that I almost started crying while I was in line waiting for food. Months later I spoke to him, exchanged pleasantries, but didn’t get his number til a few months ago. By that time I was thinking so much about Raoni that I didn’t want to think about other boys…which in retrospect sort of sucks. All that time I was living a few houses away from Charlie and now we are provinces apart…the timing of life is just wack sometimes.

So we’ve been kickin’ it…movies, dancing, chilling. It’s refreshing to meet a guy like Charlie cos he’s a lot of good things: smart, funny (hilarious, actually), loves hiphop (good hiphop), and a nice guy. He seems to care about me, so that’s great! White guys rarely talk to me here, which is no problem. I like guys, no matter what shade they come in. Black guys always talk to me, but they usually got nothing but a lot of game…which is not something I’m too interested in. Also I can’t tell if boys just want to talk to me because I’m from the USA or because they are actually interested in me. I would hope that they are intrigued only at first because of the USA thing, but that my personality and all that kind of stuff keeps them interested more as time passes. Who the heck knows. But, at any rate, I’ve been very choosy here because there are a million guys “falling on my head” (as Raoni put it) and if I just wanted a guy I could have one. I don’t know if that guy would be worth it though. Oh yeah, and there’s this little epidemic called HIV/AIDS that is pretty prominent in this part of the world, so it’s good to be choosy.

The other dilemma w/black guys is that I’m a nerdy white girl. Sometimes here there are a lot more “black” things that I relate to compared to “white” things…but at heart I’m still a nerdy white girl. At home these white vs. black things don’t seem to matter as much, but as this is SA, they make a huge difference. I guess when I say they don’t matter at home I mean that the things I like and activities I engage in at home are drawn along the lines of interests as opposed to specifically drawn on the lines of race. Admittedly if you go to a rock concert in the USA you will most likely encounter a predominantly white crowd. If you go to a hiphop concert you will encounter a predominantly minority crowd (depending on the venue/artist/etc). And if you’ve ever taken the Red Line from the North to the South of Chicago then you can see where the race lines divide people getting on and off the train. Don’t let me paint the picture that everyone in the USA is holding hands and singing “Kumbaya,” cos I would be lying to you. But it has been possible for me to gather a posse of all sorts of people and experiences at home without feeling too out of place at any time. There’s some common ground somewhere such that people from different backgrounds can come together (bless hiphop for this!!...UC Hiphop, represent!!). But here’s it’s like the line is drawn in concrete and is life and death…where as at home I don’t feel the division as much…even if I’m kickin’ it on the South Side of Chicago w/the Thornton clan. Clara…bathing in your positive vibes as I type ;)

Because this is SA the events I attend, activities I engage in, things I’m interested in mean that I have to decidedly pick what group of people I’m with tonight. And it’s a deep division. It’s really frustrating for me because I’m a person with people in every place/race/whatever. The polarized nature of SA means that I have to swing from one extreme to the other and sometimes being at the extreme is really really weird. And makes me feel really really weird. It’s like you have to be at this end or that end and there is no in between. It makes me tired sometimes and makes me have to give up a part of myself sometimes in order to “fit in” with whatever polar opposite I’m with today. It means that sometimes I feel like I can’t be myself because I won’t be accepted or will pick fights with people over different ideologies. Ambassadors do not pick fights…they just don’t. So that means I just keep quiet a lot and don’t express anything…if those of you that know me can believe that. Which is also a form of giving up a part of my personality.

I’m about to make a bunch of generalizations…so bear with me. I don’t dig stereotypes, but there are often trends that can be agreed upon. As I’ve said before…the problem lies with judging individuals by these trends. And that is really something I try to avoid until I get evidence to the contrary. My judgement of people/places/situations is an ever-morphing creature…able to change with new information as it’s encountered.

If I hang out with white people here then I have to endure a lot of talk about other races that I really don’t like to hear. And believe me, I can’t challenge every little negative (or at least not positive) thing that comes out of people’s mouths here…I would be drained of all my energy in about 48 hours. Sometimes you will be hanging out with people that you think are decent and then someone will cut them off on the freeway and “bloody kaffir” will fly out of their mouth as if it were attached to their normal respirations. Are you kidding me? It’s like shouting “f**king n**ger” in the USA. It’s unbelievable. And confronting people about negative attitudes they have about their fellow human beings usually results in me being accused of being the wrong one. I’m “a foreigner that couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to have grown up in SA.” Well of course that’s true, but it doesn’t take too much understanding to know that racism and hate are wrong…sorry to sound so self-righteous. I don’t care what circumstances you were brought up in. But pointing this out to people usually makes me the bad one. I don’t get it, so I usually prefer to be quiet instead of having the same conversation over and over with people. The white people in this place seem to construct barriers between themselves and the other people around them. Barriers that don’t need to be there. Yeah there are very different cultures in this place. Heck, even the two white tribes of SA are pretty culturally different…but it doesn’t mean that there can’t be some common human ground. If I can have a mother in Honduras, a Brazilian soul mate, a posse of Filipino/Irish/Indian/Puerto Rican homies in Chicago, a lesbian Zulu friend, and many other meaningful relationships with other assorted people that are different from me then I don’t understand why we can’t all create these bridges instead of putting up walls. Maybe I am the weird one after all…

Hanging out with white people here also usually means that I listen to music I don’t really like that much. It means I go to places I don’t really like that much or don’t feel that comfortable in. Of course these are generalizations…so please don’t take offense or think that every single thing I’ve done w/white people has been an absolute horror. And mostly the generalizations I’m talking about above refer to hanging out w/people my own age…but not totally. In Pretoria, hanging w/white people often means that I don’t speak the language and so I often sit and stare blankly/space out a lot and don’t engage in what’s happening around me.

If I hang out with black people here it usually means I’m the only, or one of the only white people around. Which hasn’t bothered me in years, but it still means that I stick out, ya know? It only gets easier and easier to ignore ‘all eyes on me’ when I go somewhere. Also this aspect isn’t usually a negative thing, as in people don’t treat me negatively for it. But if you are a black person in an all white room you can probably bet money that there will be at least some negative vibe toward you. But I think that’s also true in the USA…don’t know I’ve never been black in the USA. Hanging out with black people usually means I won’t speak the language that people are speaking some of the time, but usually there is enough English going around that I can still engage a bit in what’s happening. Depends on who I’m with. Hanging out w/black people usually means hearing music I like more and being places where I feel more comfortable. Although sometimes it means that there’s a noticeable cultural gap in my information on how to blend, but to get around this you just have to act extra polite and smile a lot. Greet the elders, lend a hand, and did I mention smiling?? People usually understand that I’m a white girl from the USA and may not know all the secret handshakes and nuances of interaction in their place, so they are usually understanding if I make a faux pas. But the thing I give up sometimes is being a nerdy white girl. Not all the time, but this is usually the part of me that doesn’t translate well. It doesn’t cause people to be rude to me, it is just a part of me that isn’t expressed as openly.

So…I almost lost the point here…but I’m back! One of the best things about Charlie is that I don’t have to give up anything to hang out w/him. I can be a nerdy white girl, enjoy the music I like (all of it…even rock n roll. Mom I even played him “Gonna be an engineer” by Peggy Seeger), and generally be at ease. It’s so cool. Sometimes there’s a small cultural glitch between us, but that happens with almost anyone I engage with here. It’s just part of the territory of being in a different place. But overall, hanging w/Charlie is very very cool. I really want to date him, but I’m not exactly sure how he feels about that. And, geography is working against us for the moment…so we’ll just have to see how things pan out.

So I stayed with Charlie for a few days. Relaxed, failed a test (don’t worry…I passed the class), tried to make sure the lady that runs our dorm didn’t catch me in his room, did some radio stuff, and enjoyed my last few days in Pretoria before shipping off to my new semi-permanent home…Midrand.

Midrand is a place that’s halfway between Joburg and Pretoria. It’s a big sprawl of townhouses and mini malls and in that respect reminds me of some of the less nice suburbs around Chicago. Your Hanover Parks and such. Habitation pods for the urban population to be close to the city. My friend Cliff just got a really nice townhouse there and I have moved in with him and his fiancé, Chido, until the next school year starts. Chido’s away doing an internship, so mostly it’s just me and Cliff. I’ve known Cliff a long time and it’s always chill when we hang out, although we are very different people. He calls me Eminem cos I’m “his favorite white person”…whatever that means. I like when we meet new people cos folks are always confused about how the heck 2 people like us ever came together in a place like SA. And that’s when I can say “it all started in Zimbabwe over the corpse of a donkey…” which really confuses people. Sorry…I can’t tell that story now. It’s best in person. Cliff just moved in and doesn’t have any furniture yet, so that is kind of a bummer…but it’s a place to stay with good people. What more can I ask for? I stayed w/Cliff for a few days and then headed off again for my next Rotary destination…White River.

White River Rotary Club invited me to come and speak at their club about 2 months ago. They are one of the most proactive clubs that I’ve encountered as in they actually called me first. Most of the speaking/visiting engagements I’ve done w/Rotary have been things I’ve sort of set up on my own. It’s pretty cool to be invited first instead of saying “Oh please can I come visit your club?!?” They were having a Foundation evening in honor of the month of November (Rotary Foundation month). My scholarship is funded thru the Rotary Foundation so it was fitting that I was there to enjoy the festivities with the club. There was a nice dinner, some speeches on the programs of the Foundation and the club, and I spoke for about 5-10 minutes about my scholarship and what I’ve been doing in SA.

I was staying with a really fabulous lady named Cheryl, her very German and large-moustached husband (Horst), their 19 yr old daughter (Karin)…although Karin just left to go work at a spa as a chef’s assistant, their house lady (Josie), the garden guy (Alec), and 2 little dogs (Da Vinci and Mokewe). I arrived here thinking “oh I’ll just stay a few days to see what the Rotary Club is up to.” Cheryl is a person who hosts people and she was under the impression I was staying for much longer. So, since I didn’t have anything else I needed to be doing, White River is pretty cool, and the invitation was open…I stayed. The countryside is fantastic (the Lowveld) and the people I’m staying with are really nice, fairly open-minded for SA, and relaxed. They show me cool stuff (Horst took me to a taxidermist) and are flexible enough that a girl with her head in a cloud can still move along without causing too much bother to her hosts. Cheryl’s a very outgoing and friendly person although she sort of threw me for a loop when I first met her. Within the first 30 minutes of meeting her she joyously proclaimed that she was “colonial” and that her husband was a racist. The combo of these 2 traits left me a bit nervous as to whom I might be spending the next few days with…but I understood her descriptions a bit better in time spent with the family. “Colonial” just means that Cheryl likes to have her tea brought to her in bed in the morning by the house lady. But it’s still a sort of a scary way to start a stay with someone you don’t know. I don’t know…South Africans are just complicated like this.

My week in White River was really fun and filled with Rotary. I went to a total of 2 Rotary meetings (the Foundation night and a regular meeting). Had chats with old men about ‘the war,’ saw some wonderful people receiving awards for uplifting their community, and lost a few wine draws. Having Christmas parties for orphaned or disadvantaged children is a really big thing here in SA. It is sort of like the “Toys for Tots” program the US Marines sponsor. A lot of Rotary Clubs seem to have some party that they sponsor each festive season (as the holiday season is called here in SA) and it seems like other organizations do similar parties as well. White River Rotary had about 3 parties for kids in the week I spent there. I helped sort presents, distribute presents, and at one party I ended up cooking with some ladies. That last party was the best one…

I went to a party in a rural area with some Rotarians. The organization running the party set up a tent, had music and food, and overall it was a pretty cool party. I think the kids had fun. The Rotary Club brought presents and cake. A lot of times when I’ve been out to Rotary projects I just end up standing around…which I don’t like. It’s a different form of being a tourist and also just bogus to come check something out and not help…or at least offer to help. At this party I asked the lady in charge if I could help and she directed me to some ladies chopping vegetables. I asked them if I could help out in any way. One lady said “Can you cook?” I said I could, so she said “you can cook the cabbage.” This was scary. I have never really cooked cabbage before. I have never really cooked cabbage in an iron pot on a wood fire before. About 50 odd people will be counting on this food, so I don’t want to screw it up. But I said okay and asked if someone would help me. So I took turns stirring cabbage in an iron pot over a wood fire with another lady. It was SO fun!!! It took a long time cos there was a lot of cabbage. Our spoon was too small. The smoke was insane. Your arms get tired from stirring cabbage that doesn’t want to move around. I was so worried that I would knock the pot over cos it was sort of perched on this homemade metal thing over the fire. But it was still fun. I cooked with the ladies all morning and into the afternoon. Chopped vegetables, served food, cracked jokes. It was great. Mumbley, I even told them about the myth we have that if the campfire smoke is following you then you are the prettiest girl. Everyone thought that was really funny. Apparently now, according to these ladies, I will be able to find a nice African husband because I can cook. Whew…what a relief…my sleepless nights of worrying that I’d never find a good husband to cook and clean for are OVER!!!

The party I went to the day before was really freaky. It was put on in partnership with some missionary people that were there from North Carolina. They told the story of Jesus’ birth, but because the lady couldn’t speak siSwati she narrated and a guy translated. And she made sure to tell all the little kids that if they wanted to, they could “give their heart to Jesus” if they hadn’t done so already. I’m sorry…but that is freaky. I went to a few vacation Bible schools in my days and I took Jesus into my heart cos I felt pressure and also that it was the thing to do…but it hasn’t meant anything to me. I just don’t see how a 7 year old kid can make a conscious decision to take in Jesus. I couldn’t appreciate that decision as a 13 year old.

As I sat there watching this story being told, and then re-enacted by some confused kids that were moved around by the missionaries, I’m sure I must have caught some flies in my mouth as it was totally agape. Absolutely shocking. I just sat there thinking “people seriously still do this? This is some ‘Dr. Livingstone, I presume’ shit!!” I really couldn’t believe it. That’s one of the greatest things about Rotary…no strings attached. No politics, no religion, no nothing…except goodwill towards humanity. I really respect that and think that is probably one of the reasons Rotary has lasted so long. Those religion/politics issues are really the things that tear people apart and also cause people to view their fellow man as foreign. The greatest dividers of our time… I guess it’s good that the kids got presents, a party, and cake…but at what indoctrination cost?

Most of the rest of the time I spent in White River was spent chilling out. Reading, watching TV, sitting outside, writing this. I went out with Karin (the 19yr old daughter) one night. It was nice to get out and be with people more my age, but it was one of those situations I described earlier that made me feel a bit weird to be white. If that’s possible. These are supposed to be my people, right? We went to a 21st bday party for a bit (nice…there was an open bar!) where I met some really interesting girls. Had some good conversations. Karin seems to have pretty cool friends overall. Then we went to some bar in Nelspruit called “The Keg” and then we went to the coup de grace…Stables.

We walked into Stables and I saw people “shooting the kudu” and soekking (sorry I don’t know if that’s spelled right…) like their life depended on it. Wow! I just thought to myself “Oh god, I’m going to shoot a kudu tonight…” “Shooting a kudu” is a really great phrase I heard used in order to describe a type of very typical Afrikaans dance that is done here in SA. It’s normally called “soekkie,” but “shooting a kudu” is a phrase I can not pass up. A kudu is a really huge antelope here. It has huge horns and a beautiful marking pattern…google images, baby! The dance seems to resemble a Texas two-step sort of dance, but it involves sticking one arm straight out like you are shooting something…probably where the other nickname came from. It’s a dance done between 2 people, usually a man and a woman. I’ve never done it, but if someone asked me I would. Soekkie music is usually not music I would prefer, so I didn’t enjoy Stables per se (in the music department)…but in the gauntlet of cultural experiences I can definitely say that it was an experience in itself. I had a decent time (thanks to the previous open bar) but mostly just felt out of place.

Karin also took me out to this cool place called Kaapsehoop (or something like that) which is maybe 30 minutes-1 hour away from White River. They have wild horses there (which we saw a few of) and it’s sort of just a quaint little spot with a great view. It was SUPER misty and foggy that day, so we didn’t see that view, but the mist was really cool in its own right. We went with 2 of Karin’s friends and we had a really nice walk up to the lookout spot…where we just saw more fog. I really enjoyed this little trip.

Because Karin has just moved to KwaZulu-Natal (the Midlands) for the next few months and is then going on to university, she was getting rid of a bunch of clothes. We are very similar sizes, so I got a bunch of new clothes…hurrah! Thrift store shopping fix sort of indulged. I’ve been sporting new threads ever since. And it’s a good thing she gave me these clothes because I only brought enough clothes for 3-ish days on my trip to White River. Or more like clothes for 3 situations: dress up, dress down, and multi-purpose.

On Friday of my week in White River, Cheryl, Karin, and I went to a small town called Chrissiesmeer where Cheryl has a house that also doubles as a self-catering country lodge-y place. It is in the middle of nowhere and has a stunning view of a lake…Lake Chrissiesmeer. The house is up on a “hill” of sorts and the land slopes down in a wetland-y sort of way (they called it the “moor,” a term which I’ve heard before, but don’t really know what it means). There are lots of neat rock formations that are subtle and just calmly stick out of the landscape. The rocks sort of look like cowpies that were deposited via the placid movements of a migrating herd of hoofed herbivores. We took a walk, with the 5 dogs Cheryl’s sister has, down to the lake one day…a nice walk with some mud and rocks to navigate. The best part of the house is the porch…sending one up to my High Street porch haven!!!! The porch looks out on the lake and the moor…gorgeous. The sky is big there just like the Midwest prairie sky. The security system is a pack of dogs and a lock on the door which is really cool compared to the laser beams, razor wire, armed guards that you find everywhere else in SA. The security situation here is something I understand, but still keeps me feeling a bit caged in at times. Like when I stay at someone’s house that has a certain security system it usually means that once they go to bed I have to stay in my room or else I will set off the security system’s laser beam detection system. Yuck. But I guess it has its place here…

Cheryl’s sister, Heather, just built a house next to the lodge (they just moved in this month), so we spent our time with them mostly. Her husband works on contract for a sugar plantation in Kenya (so he wasn’t there), one son is in England, and the other son (Callam) is there helping out his mom and “finding himself” (if I had to classify his life path right now…I guess). He’s in limbo now while he waits to go to Thailand to teach English. In limbo…now that’s something I know a little bit about ;) There is also a grandma there that has suffered from a stroke and is having her last few days in a country paradise.

Staying at Chrissiesmeer was fantastic. We just went up for a few days, but I’m going back there later this week. Heather is a self taught veterinarian (she holds clinics for people in her area and in Swaziland where she’s lived for the past few years) and a kindred spirit to be sure. She actually had a pig (Angelina…named after the Jolie w/the big lips) that she recently rescued from a culvert. Angelina was in quite a state, but was starting to perk up after getting some food, some meds, and some satisfying mud wallowing. Heather and her son are into what might be labeled ‘new age’ stuff like yoga, raiki, astrology, and the like…but like many ‘new age-y’ people…they aren’t flakes. It’s just the stereotype, man! Dave Mockaitis you would dig these people so much. Mom, you would feel right at home…it kind of reminded me of visiting your friend in Mountain, Ontario.

On a random food tip…I ATE CORN ON THE COB!!!!!!!!!!! I know that’s random, but I’m from the Midwest, dammit! I haven’t had corn on the cob since I’ve been here and I ate 2 ½ cobs at Heather’s place. I could have eaten all she cooked, but I had to be at least a sort of polite guest so I cut down my consumption to 2 ½ cobs. Watermelon and corn on the cob are 2 things I can absolutely gorge on…even if my stomach is about to explode. They are just associated with good summer times and they taste fresh and wonderful. And with watermelon you get to spit the seeds without getting yelled at for spitting. How can you go wrong? I also had tortillas at Heather’s place. Man, she really hit my food spot!

Now I’m back in Midrand with Cliff. I came back here for a few days/week to touch base w/the homies and get some more of my clothes. I’ll be going back to Chrissiesmeer to hang w/Heather and her son until around the 20th. Because Heather just moved in, she has a lot of small work to be done and it will be nice to help out and use my muscles a bit. I’ve been sitting around like a bump on a log for a span now and it’s just not my style. I’m too restless for such sloth activities.

I’ve been chilling with Cliff for the last few days…doing nothing. Getting my things together and having lots of chats. I thought I would be hanging out w/Charlie here cos he’s in a township just next to where I stay…but he’s so far been elusive. Oh well… It’s pretty boring here cos I’m isolated and Cliff’s car is messed up so we have no transport…a crucial thing in the ‘burbs. So I’ve been hanging at the house for the last few days hiding from the rain.

It’s been a good ride so far…living the vagabunda lifestyle. Although being a vagabunda has been stressing me a bit (it would be so nice to have a home of my own right now)…I have to count my blessings that I’m here and able to eat and do some of the things I want. I have just been getting a bit stressed w/feeling out of place lately…the things I was describing earlier in this post. The great SA race debacle is something that gives me a lot of stress. I don’t know how to care less about it because it really upsets me when people say and do things that are not good to other people. I just don’t understand it. The unnecessary walls constructed here are just trouble in the end. Not having my place here and not having my true people around me (wherever/whoever they are) has been sort of weighing on me because it means I haven’t been able to really be myself and really at ease for quite some time. Although I’m feeling MUCH better since when I first arrived!!!! Maybe this is something I’ll always have to deal with if I’m away from the USA…don’t know.

Many thanks to all those that have helped me along the way. I only hope I can return the favor one of these days!! I’m really hoping to come home before I go back to school at the end of January, but with my resources and family’s resources scraped together it still doesn’t look like there is enough money to come back and hug you all and eat tacos. But I’m keeping the faith until I must keep it no longer…

Much love to all of you readers! I have tons of pictures to post, but no reliable internet connection so these things will have to wait for awhile.

As always…keep the faith and spread it gently.

Love Lynsee