South Africa

I’m on my back to Burkina after a week in South Africa. As I’m writing this I’m sitting on a plane to Accra. I’m seeing a lot of Ghana natives on this flight (naturally) and boy is it a sad day for them. Yesterday Ghana lost to Uruguay in a shoot-out; it was an exciting game, but after Gyan missed the penalty shot in OT, forcing the game to be decided by five pk’s, I was pretty certain that Ghana would lose. They were too jittery and hyped-up, whereas the Uruguay team was calm and collected. It’s easier to control and guide your shots when you’re calm and collected. So Ghana lost, and the Ghanaians (and practically all of Africa) are le sad. It’s hard to listen to my iPod while all around me my fellow Ghanaian neighbors are arguing loudly about the game.

Anywho, South Africa! What an amazing week! Thank you so much, Dad, for a spectacular vacation; it was great seeing you!

I arrived in Johannesburg around 5 AM and took the Gautrain (commissioned solely for the World Cup) to Sandton. Dad and I stayed at Sandton Towers Intercontinental, a hotel I highly recommend. Though considering where I’ve lived the past year I’m sure I’d also highly recommend a Motel 6 in Compton. I arrived and was given orange juice and a warm towel, how lovely! While I waited for Dad to arrive I went to the shopping center connected to our hotel through a skywalk. Now I know what volunteers (who’ve returned to the States or somewhere that’s not Burkina) mean when they say they were overwhelmed by all the “stuff.” I stood outside what looked like an upscale grocery store and stared in through a window until a guard approached me and told me that if I desired it, I could actually go into the store. I must’ve been standing there for a while with my mouth hanging open. I didn’t go into the store; I’m saving my grocery shopping experience for when I’m in Albuquerque in August. Costco, here I come!

Anywho, I walked through this shopping center in Joburg feeling somewhat detached from it. Oh Burkina, what have you done to me? The first thing I bought was a pre-made sandwich of turkey, ham, salami, cheese, tomatoes and cucumbers on ciabatta bread, and it was the best darn sandwich I’ve tasted. Dad scoffed at my pre-made sandwich when I told him about it, but I told him that my food standards are impossibly low. Another exciting purchase I made was a bra. The clasps on my old ones broke off a while back, and so I’ve been holding them together with safety pins. But no more!

My first night in Jo’burg Dad and I met up with some of Dad’s South African attorney buddies (who were incredibly nice and funny) for dinner. I had sushi and I watched USA lose to Ghana. The important part here is that I had sushi! California rolls, salmon, tuna, crab. And to top it all off I had chocolate mousse and brownies for dessert. At night I slept on clouds. It was a warm heaven of fluffy white pillows and high-thread count sheets, which is quite the change from my sweating the night away in Burkina on my lipico (think lawn chair). And thank goodness the airline gave Dad earplugs in business class. The whole sleeping on a bed of clouds experience would have been dampened by all the loud snoring. Love you, Dad!

Sunday brought us the Argentina vs Mexico game at Soccer City Stadium. The stadium was beautiful and our seats were great. From the outside the stadium looked huge, but inside it was actually quite cozy. Dad and I were seated next to Mexico fans, and I found myself cheering for Mexico alongside them. They were the underdogs and there were a lot more Argentina fans present. By the way, Dad and I were almost directly in line with the goal line and we saw Tevez when he scored that offsides goal. Holy frijoles he was off by a mile! I thought that I’d be annoyed by all the noise of the vuvuzelas (because on TV the noise is horrendous), but inside the stadium the vuvuzelas are a part of the game. I didn’t mind them at all, and I even considered buying one. However, I came to my senses. And I thank the soccer gods for not seating a person strapped with one directly behind me, because then I’d probably feel a lot different about them.

Before I forget, here’s a fun odd fact: South Africans call traffic lights “robots.” When I asked for directions to the hotel, I was told to “turn left at the second robot.” Robot is a cooler name than traffic light.

Monday morning Dad and I took a plane to Nelspruit, which is about an hour east of Jo’burg. Dad scheduled a safari for us in Kruger National Park at Inyati Private Game Reserve. Again, I highly recommend this place, as does Dad’s Capetownian colleague. So I was back in the bush, but it was a different kind of bush. While driving to Inyati we were greeted by a troupe of elephants and we had to wait for Mom Elephant to finish eating and move off the road before we could continue on our way. Inyati is placed smack dab in the middle of Kruger National Park and has 11 “huts.” A hut to me means a bare mudbrick or concrete house with a shower and a lovely latrine, complete only with cockroach companions. But an Inyati hut means furnished rooms with electricity and running water, with tiled floors and thick rugs and a cleaning service, with chocolates on your pillow and heating pads to warm the beds. No sign of cockroaches or even mosquitoes, because it’s winter there. Yup, I much prefer Inyati’s definition of “hut.” Thry did have an outdoor shower (in addition to the indoor one), but I didn’t use it because it was freezing. I was so cold and oh so very happy about it! Temperatures in the 60’s—what a blessing!

There were eight people in our safari excursion group, including Dad and me. Our fearless tracker was Nelson, who sat on a seat that looked like an appendage off the hood of the car; and out knowledgeable guide was Piet. These guys were terrific, and they always had coca cola stocked in the cooler for me. Ash and Angela from Manhattan and Alan and Lora from Atlanta were in our group, and I had a terrific time with them. Ash was especially amusing, and I look forward to watching Lora’s videos and listening to her informative commentary (eg “This is an elephant”).

Our safari vehicle was a monster, one of those beasts where you wouldn’t notice if you ran over another car because it would feel like a speedhump. But the car was necessary for the terrain. We went out on excursions twice a day, from 6 AM-10AM and again from 4 PM-7PM. It was spectacular! We saw the Big 5 (elephants, lions, leopards, buffalos and rhinos) and then some: giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, mongoose (is it mongeese?), warthogs, zebras (a dazzle of them!), and a crapton of antelope and birds. We saw a leopard hunting impalas while her cubs waited in a tree for her. We saw lions feasting/sleeping on a buffalo. We saw baby lion cubs playing with mom and their older brother. We stalked a lion until it started stalking us. We thought an elephant was going to charge our car. Piet and Nelson weren’t worried, but the rest of us nearly crapped our pants. All the animals were so close to us—uncomfortably close at times. One elephant stopped within 6 feet of our car and I instinctively scooted to the far end of the seat. It was scary! Even the lions were right next to us, but one pride was feasting on buffalo so they paid us little attention. Yet I couldn’t help shivering when a lion pulled his head out of the buffalo’s stomach, looked right at me and licked his chops.

The rhinos were shy, the giraffes galloped gracefully away from us and the hippos were noisy. Nature called during one of our excursions while we were next to the hippo pond, but before I could relieve myself Piet had to inspect the area for predators. What a way to go: death by hippo while squatting in a bush.

On our trips we also saw homo sapiens standing outside their own monster vehicle drinking beer and wine—wildlife in their natural habitat. Did you know that elephants make a growling noise? It sounds like a growl, but it’s not a noise they make when they feels threatened. It’s actually a mode of communication with their fellow elephants.

Back at the lodge baboons and monkeys run amock. A baboon tried to get into our hut, but the door was locked. I watched as a baboon opened the sliding doors to the lounge, ran into the kitchen and came out with a handful of crackers. The kitchen staff chased after him, running and screaming. It was hilarious.

The day after our first night at Inyati a group of doctors from the U.S. joined our party. I met three of them (sisters) in the bathroom where we introduced ourselves and they asked me what I did for a living. When I told them I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, one of the sisters looked at me and said, “I knew it!” Should I be offended? I wasn’t wearing any PC paraphernalia, and yet she had me down for a PCV. It must have been the way I carried myself—confident, open, like a lived a hard-core life and I could take anything. Either that or it was my overall homeliness—my worn, stretched out and holey clothes (Dad informed me that there’s mold on my Puget Sound sweatshirt), my spotty complexion and my uneven haircut (I’m giving up hairdresser as a potential career).

Anywho, the food at Inyati was delectable. Cold salmon, meat pastries, ostrich, kudu, ox tails, kiwis, bacon, sausage, cheese, croissants, muffins, soups, puddings. I didn’t have rice once! Save for the sushi in Jo’burg, but that doesn’t count.

Dad’s and my last night together we spent at Cybele Forest Lodge and Spa. It’s another amazing lodge with spectacular food, warm and cozy rooms and our own private pool. I’d go back to South Africa just to spend a few days there.

That was my South African vacation, and I simply can’t wait to go back. Dad, I’m so glad that you wanted to spend your vacation with me and I can’t thank you enough for that wonderful week. And thank you for the chocolate and the five jars of peanut butter! That’ll last me a few months!

I’ll most certainly post pictures, but I’m going to wait until I’m back in the States. And that’ll be next month. Sweetness in a can!