Summer In Africa 2013: Tanzania and Kenya

Apparently I'm not good at keeping this updated.  I had every intention of writing this last blog for Africa the second I returned home, but there always seemed to be some sort of task, laundry for instance, or washing the hardwood floors as a stretch, I could use to delay the inevitable.  I think at one point I even rationalized that my time would be best be utilized by thinking about the blog instead of writing it. 

Anyway, summer quickly evaporated like they always do and school weaseled its way in.  It's easier to put off the blog when you are desperately trying to put off grading at the same time.  However, with school comes eager students and a few special ones that inspire you to start dreaming of new adventures and how you might be able to include them on said adventures.  I guess this is what is prompting me to finish up the Africa blog.  I need to start on a new adventure blog for 2014!  

More on this later:)

For now, let's go back to Africa.

My experiences in Kigali left a deep impression.  Trying to reconcile something I taught in an academic setting and then bearing witness to the actual locations and remnants of what happened in 1994 is something I am still wading through.  I went on a reading binge shortly after leaving Kigali.  I think despite knowing the story quite well, I still desperately cling to some vain hope that knowing just a few more facts will help me understand that big red stain on the wall of the Sunday school at Ntarama.

Unfortunately, clarity on this has so far eluded me.  

We took off from Kigali early morning without incident and arrived in Dar Es Salaam a few hours later after routing through Nairobi.  A beautiful view of Kilimanjaro was about the only highlight of the day.  Dar Es Salaam was unpleasant.  Traffic was pretty bad through the city and I was ripped off by the cab driver, which was compounded by the near death experiences along the way.  Unfortunately, this would be emblematic of my experiences for the rest of the trip.  Prices would ultimately always be higher than quoted.  We learned to ask for a price, then ask, "Really, though?  So at the end of the drive, it will be this?" Holding up the exact cash just to announce that we had already been ripped off and had no intention of doing it again helped out, too.  Luckily, Dar was not our destination and really just a jump off point to get out to Zanzibar, the former slave trade, cultural melting pot, spice island, aqua blue water tourist hotspot.  We took the two hour ferry on smooth seas to the beautiful island and in no less than 15 minutes had us lost in its labyrinth like maze of streets looking for out hotel.  I eventually let one of street guys who gives "tours" help me find the spot.  After paying him for the help, I spent the next two days avoiding him at all costs so as not to get the hard sell on why I needed to book a tour with him.  

Zanzibar was pretty cool, despite the constant pressure of sales and tours.  It was a bit weary to constantly have to ward off aggressive sellers, but overall, the architecture, food, and history of the place was enough to keep my mind busy. Catching a sunset on top of one the many rooftop restaurants, or sharing wine with a couple from New Zealand at tables set up on the beach provided ample time for reflection.  I felt like we had to do some sort of tour while we were there so we decided to do a Spice Tour.  Since Morberg can't smell, I was put on the spot more than I like and was embarrassed not to be able to recognize all the spices we use so often in the wild.  Even when the guy cut some root off of some seemingly random green plant growing along the path and shoved it in my face, I was unable to identify it as ginger.  It was pretty cool to see where pepper, vanilla, cinnamon, and many other common spices, actually came from.  

From Zanzibar we had to brave a bit of a choppier ferry ride back to Dar Es Salaam and then brave the choppy taxi ride to the airport before we were able to head to our last destination, Kenya.  

Once we arrived in Nairobi, we both slumped down in the hotel tired and a bit travel weary.  We had boarded some dozen different flights in the previous three weeks and it was beginning to show.  We didn't have the exploratory, itchy feet we had in Cape Town, and were more prone to find some pizza and retire to the room for a movie, or two, or three.  Nevertheless, we did venture out.  We made a trip out to a wonderful museum and reptile center that involved a walk across the city and we even tried one last time to see a lion out in one of the parks just outside of the city.  No luck.  I just have to accept that the mighty lion and I will have to meet some time in the future.  On the last day, we checked out of the hotel early in the day and needed an activity to keep us occupied before catching a night flight to Switzerland and eventually back to the States.  My suggestion was to take a bit of a walk and head towards the Westgate Mall, where we could catch a movie.  Of course, what was a stupid excuse to hang out in air conditioned buildings and watch western movies, a terrible one at that, is overshadowed by the events that happened at that mall a month or so after we were there.  Apparently the terrorists rented a shop there where they smuggled weapons and posed as businessmen.  Not sure if we walked past that store, but we could have.  Quite honestly, it is a bit chilling and really quite sad considering the vast majority of Kenyans we talked to were excited about the ever increasing opportunities in Kenya, the relative peace, and how they are starting to feel as though they have a hand in their own destiny. 

And that was that.  We had spent nearly a month in Africa, but really it seemed like much longer.  Like any good trip, your everyday experiences, even the mundane, take on extraordinary characteristics and leave indelible marks on your memory.  But I must say, this trip was filled with activities that went far beyond the mundane.  How about a short list:  I pet a cheetah, hung on an elephant's tusk, visited Mandela's prison cell, met kids at school in a township, got sprayed with mist from Victoria Falls, ran off a baboon, biked to the Cape of Good Hope, talked politics with Zambians, cruised the Zambezi, watched a sunset over Zanzibar, and witnessed the beauty of Rwanda and its people, and saw the potential evil that resides in us all.  It would be easy to say that I need to travel back to Africa to see that lion that never appeared for me, but really, it will be the beautiful people, the multitude and diversity of cultures and languages, the varied landscapes across the countries and ultimately that sunset that truly doesn't look like anything else out there that will pull me back.  I can't wait!

Summer in Africa 2013: Kigali, Rwanda

Kigali, Rwanda

Our flight out of Lusaka was uneventful, though a bit surprising to land in Zimbabwe really quickly before heading north to Nairobi and then over to Kigali.  I was also a bit surprised to find a guy standing there with my name on it after making our way through passport control.  I completely forgot that I arranged for airport pickup for our lodging at Heaven Hotel and Restaurant.

We only had a couple of days in Kigali, but there really was only one reason why I wanted to stop here.  I teach about international intervention and humanitarian issues and the 1994 Rwandan Genocide is one of the case studies we use heavily in class.   I wanted to see if my experiences visiting the country would alter the way I taught the course. 

 Just a short taxi ride away from our lodging was Genocide Memorial and museum.  Clark and I went straight over after dropping off our bags.  The museum was very well done, informational, and emotionally engaging.  After going through the building you end up outside peering over a series of concrete slabs cut into the hillside.  Though unassuming, these slabs mark the mass graves where over 250,000 people are now buried.  As emotionally draining as this museum visit was, it paled in comparison to what I saw on the second day.

About 45 minutes outside of urbanized Kigali are the towns of Nyamata and Ntarama. Both were traditionally heavy Tutsi minority villages and consequently  the sites of horrific massacres that took place at Catholic churches.  Both sites have restrictions on pictures so I didn't take any.  I don't think I would have anyway.  I will describe what I saw and the stories I heard, but it is a bit graphic sooooooooooooo.......you have been warned.  One can easily google the churches for official pictures.

The first stop was at the large church in Nyamata.  About a week after the massacres started in April 1994, over 10,000 Rwandans took refuge inside and around the St. Francois-Xavier Catholic church in Nyamata.  There was precedence to this as Tutsis found safety in the churches during similar attacks against them in 1992.  They thought no one would harm them in a "house of God."  When Hutu militias arrived, they threw grenades at the doors and inside the windows.  The metal doors were twisted from the explosions and light seeps through the roof where there are holes from the shrapnel.  Gunfire followed the grenades and the militiamen then used machetes and any other weapons at their disposal to kill off anyone in the church that survived the initial assault.

  

When you walk inside, the first thing the guide points out are the bullet and shrapnel holes in the ceiling, but your eyes immediately catch sight of the clothes.  There was a musty smell from the piles and piles of dirty, blood soaked clothes that were seemingly everywhere, the floor, the pews, on the alter.  I thought about all the Catholic churches I spent time in during my trip across Spain two summers ago.  You couldn't help but be inspired by their beauty.  Here in Nyamata, there is a machete lying on the alter, the stained glass windows are shattered, and the holy water font has been cracked from a grenade.  

Behind the church is the mass grave and I was invited down into the crypt where to this day, they're still collecting bones.  In all, there are 40,000 people here waiting to be buried.  As you descend the steep stairs, you are confronted with rows and rows of skulls.  After the initial shock of the sheer number, you inevitably start looking at them individually.  It is then you realize that you don't need to be a forensic scientist to see how these people died.  Bullet holes, machete marks, crushed craniums are all visible.  The small skulls are obviously children.

I was next shown a casket that held the body of a 28 year old woman who was allegedly the last person killed.  The militiamen subjected her to repeated sexual assaults and the used a sharpened stick to impale her through her body and out through her head.  Her body was found like that and apparently this was not an isolated incident.  

Despite the absolutely horrific nature of the stories and the sheer gravity of being in the spot where it happened, I held myself together pretty well.  However, I was only halfway done with the visit as I had one more church to see.

The next stop was the Catholic church in Ntarama, where a similar tale emerged.  5,000 sought refuge at the church and were eventually slaughtered. The church here has a huge metal roof over the site preserving what is left of the church that is barely standing.  The grenade attack by the Hutu militia weakened the walls and allowed the killers to get inside.  This church is much smaller and consequently all of the clothes and materials left in the church are hanging from the rafters and the caskets filled with bones line the pews.  The guide took me over to the alter where there were stacks of household items and even a big bag of beans.  It was obvious the people arrived here bringing stuff they would need to survive a few weeks.  All this was piled next to weapons used in the killing.  I must admit, it was chilling to be in this church alone with a Rwandan guide as he picked up a machete to show me what the killers did.  I was happy to drop the weapon and head outside to the fresh air, but we immediately went into another building, and it's here that I nearly lost it.  The room, probably 25'x25', was a Sunday School for small children.  The guide led me to a huge spot on the wall in the front of the room and very quietly told me it was the blood and brain stained spot where the babies and children were swung by their feet and smashed up against the wall.  It was a bit much to handle and I didn't complain when we didn't linger.  

I returned to the hotel thoroughly exhausted, but really glad I was able to see and experience those places.  As horrible as they were, I couldn't help but notice the birds chirping and the laughter of kids playing in the schoolyards during recess just across the street from the massacre sites.  According what I know about the genocide, Rwanda should be in shambles still.  But the opposite is true.  People are friendly, the streets are clean and safe, and everyone is eager to show a new Rwanda while openly acknowledging the past.  

I can't say for sure how I will alter what I do in the classroom based upon my experiences here.  I for sure want to include more on reconciliation efforts and the post genocide recovery, but at the bare minimum I want to frame the unit around the quote that I saw on a banner near the alter at Ntarama.  

It reads:

"Iyo umenya nawe ukimenya ntuba waranyishe"

"If you knew me and you really knew yourself, you would not have killed me."

Up next on our journey is a flight from Kigali to Dar Es Salaam in Tanzania.  We will only be in Dar for one day and the we will catch the ferry over to Zanzibar.  Unfortunately we only have a couple of days in this place, but hopefully we can catch a spice tour and run around the narrow alleys of Stone Town, with it's mixture of Arab, African, and European influences.  Take care!

Summer in Africa 2013: Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Botswana

Our transition out of South Africa and into Zambia started off a bit tense.  We arranged for a 3am departure from the lodge to the Durban airport, some 3 hours away.  We actually wanted to leave at 2:30 just to play it safe, but after shivering in the cold until 3:30 wondering if we were forgotten, our driver pulled up assuring us that we would get there on time.  I believed him though I was watching the clock closely and noted that as long as all went well, we would arrive at the airport at 6:30, just 30 minutes before takeoff.  You can imagine our horror when the driver pulled off the highway just 15 minutes from the airport to fill up the very not empty tank.  Our disbelief had to be visible on our faces as our eyes followed him into the store only to stand in front of the drink aisle making what appeared to be an important soft drink decision.  Despite our interpretation of this behavior as severely lacking in the time management department, we nevertheless made it to the airport at 6:37.  Luckily, printing  boarding tickets and security took only a few minutes and we were to our gate before they closed.  

Overall, the game safari at Zulu Nyala went really well.  We met some really nice folks and I, for one, learned quite a bit about the flora and fauna of the region.  At the same time, I am feeling a bit antsy to get moving again.  The game lodge was somewhat closed in and there wasn't much of an opportunity to get some exercise.  The activities were great, but they invariably had me sitting  for the vast majority of the time and combine that with the 3 meals per day and I felt myself getting lethargic.  I usually just eat one big meal per day and because of that, all other forms of caloric intake are based solely upon an opportunistic basis.  Here, there are three buffets per day and my inability to pace myself, judge appropriate portion sizes, and make quality food choices in this system was apparent.  Despite a cognitive recognition of this behavior going on, I was simply unable pass up a chocolate piece of cake if there was one there.  Nor could I pass up the pudding, or really any other treat for that matter.  Opportunistic eaters eat when there is an opportunity, and here, opportunity prevailed.

We arrived in Livingstone via Johannesburg and hopped off the plane in the old fashioned style by simply walking down the stairs and across the tarmac.  Inside, we were granted a multiple entry visa, which was good because we were only expecting a double for $80, and we walked outside to see a guy with a placard with my name on it.  The man holding the sign was a driver for the hostel Jollyboys, which we would call home for the next four nights.  

Jollyboys has a great reputation and they certainly lived up to it.  There were lots of different people here, young and old, and much to our enjoyment, people from many different countries.  We quickly settled into our dorms and signed up for a game drive at Chobe National Park.  It may seem strange that we spend 5 days doing game drives and en immediately sign up for another, but we had several reasons.  For starters, I need to see a lion before I leave and Chobe has lions.  In addition,  Chobe is located across the border in Botswana, and for your passport stamp collecting nut, you don't pass up a chance to see another country when it is that close.  In fact, when we boarded a little boat to cross the river, our guide pointed in four different directions showing us how this was the spot where Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Namibia all come together.  

Once in Chobe, we did two different excursions.  The first was a boat cruise where we caught sight of crocodile, monitor lizards, hippo, elephant, and tons of birds.  The second was a game drive in a 4x4 where we encountered dozens of other elephants, kudu, impala, buffalo, hippos, and giraffe.  The best part was when we took a break and got a off the truck near the river.  The scene that unfolded before us was straight out of a biology textbook where they conveniently place all the animals living in harmony along he river delta.  Turns out they weren't just trying save space.  I tried to take a few pics that showed several animals all at once, but when I look at them, they seem insufficient.  Of course, the one animal that can cause this scene to disband in several different directions at once, the lion, wasn't spotted.  I guess this just means my three days in Nairobi might involve some more game drives!

The game drive was quite fun, but we returned with more than just good pics.  While we didn't make friends with the family of the kid that threw up several times on the way to the drive, we did with a couple from Germany named Ulf and Anke.  We also met Sophia, who along with the German couple satisfied Clark's German speaking bug.  Sophia, in addition to speaking English, German, and Greek, was also able to shed light on all the Australian slang words I didn't know from a tv show called "Summer Heights High." It was with these people that we spent the next few days with doing various activities around Livingstone, and it was a good reminder that the most colorful aspect about traveling is the people you meet.

We visited the Livingstone museum, took a sunset boat cruise along the Zambezi, visited various curio shops, and said no to countless offers of copper bracelets on the streets, but most visitors to Livingstone come for the falls.  And this is not just any falls, but Victoria Falls.  Whiles others were ziplining through the gorge or bungee jumping off the bridge 100 meters to the river below (yes, it was scary looking), I was content with just looking at the falls.  The problem is that you can't see all the falls at once.  At one point I was taking pictures of the falls and noted that what I was looking at, and really could truly only see at that moment, was a section called the Eastern Cataracts.  The rest of the falls continued for another 1.5 kilometers.  It was crazy.  And crazy beautiful.  Another section of trail descended to the river below and I was anxious to get some blood flow to my trail legs.  We saw several signs on the way down warning us of baboons and it was on the way back up we found out why.  We came across a terrified group of people frantically trying to decide how to react to a fairly scary looking male baboon who had just walked up behind one of the women and yanked her bag from her.  He was sitting up on  a bank above the trail busy going through the bag looking as though this wasn't his first time inspecting the contents of a backpack.  Apparently he was unsatisfied with the bounty and made his way back towards the group with lightning speed and leapt up on a bench amongst them.  I think it was the reaction of the older lady that really scared me, but my heart was pounding a bit when I made a quick move towards him and he submitted a bit and backed off.  I was really hesitant at first because those things have really big teeth, super strong limbs, and otherwise should be able to deal me some heavy damage in no short time, but it became apparent that he responded to males moving towards him and identified females as the ones that bags are easily taken from.  I made him move down the trail a bit which allowed the others to move back up the trail.  There was a female baboon with a really young baby with her at the same spot so while I stood between the male and the trail heading up, I took advantage of the opportunity to take some close photos.  Although my heart was still pounding a bit from the close encounter, we had a good laugh about it back at the top.  

Livingstone and Zambia in general has given us a good time.  We met several Zambians who were keen on late night political discussions, history of the United States, and Zambian history.  Zambians by and large are super friendly, very engaging and willing to let you try your hand at any of their 72 different dialects spoken in the nation. Whenever we seem to leave the store, the backpackers hostel, the bus, the same question gets thrown back at you. "When are you coming back?"

"As soon a I can!" I say, and I secretly wonder if I telling my self the truth.

We bade farewell to Jollyboys but more specifically to our travel the Group of Ulf, Anke, and Sophia.  We especially want to acknowledge the Scottish women from the boat cruise.  They kept us entertained  without fail for the evening. And a bit past when we were trying to get some sleep, but no harm done.  That's the nature of shared lodging.  You get up close encounters with lots of other travelers which can lead to great opportunities, but you can also have up close encounters with lots of other travelers who in turn deprive you of sleep, make you paranoid that your stuff will be stolen, and still act as though they are children who recently discovered the frayed end of the parental rope.

All in all, Zambia has been a blast.  We took a 6 hour buried north to the capital of Lusaka where we found a mall to kill time in while we waited to get a taxi for the airport.  We leave shortly after midnight so we killed two hours by watching White House Down.  Jesus.  That's all I will say.  If you know me personally, 

You will hopefully be able to figure out whether I just gave it a thumbs up or not. Regardless, two hours were done with so we cause a cab and we are now at out gate awaiting the boarding of the overnight flight to Nairobi and then a connection to Kigali, the capital off Rwanda.

This looks like a long entry which means under no circumstances will I look it over for any errors.  My eyes are starting to droop a bit.  Perhaps this will be the first time ever I can sleep one a plane.  Wish me luck!  We will be in Kigali by 8am.

Zulu Nyala Game Reserve: Part Two

Zulu Nyala Game Reserve: Part 2

Janine, our guide, told us to look out for the reflection of light from the eyes as she beamed a flashlight out into the bush in long sweeping arcs.  This was how we were to spot nocturnal animals on our night drive.  We were hoping to catch sight of the elusive leopard, but instead, after an hour and a half of slow driving through along the jeep trails of the private reserve, we came upon a familiar pool to notice the hippos out of the water for once.  Janine informed us that this was normal behavior for the evening and they were known to roam quite far from the water.  We had hippo in mind when we rounded the next corner and spotted 3 objects in the dark right next to us.  What happened next took all but three seconds.  As the light scanned the objects, first across, and then up as if fully appreciating a skyscraper for the first time, one couldn't help but notice that they weren't small animals moving around 100 feet away, but very large elephants a mere 30 feet away.  In no time at all, the larger of the three whipped around and splayed a it's large ears, a sign that we learned just the day before at an elephant interaction tour that the animal means business, and move quickly towards us.  I was sitting in the back corner of the jeep, my foot hard on the imaginary gas pedal, as the elephant charged.  Luckily, Janine had the same idea and sped the jeep forward shouting back to us asking if it was still coming.  We also learned the day before that they can run 35-40km per hour.  

It was at this elephant interaction tour that we met Rambo, a docile bull elephant that has been reared with extensive human interaction.  He was part of a culling operation that fortunately spared him, but not before losing his herd.  Apparently, when numbers of elephants in large parks are thinned, they kill the entire herd because they are so social that they literally can't survive without one another.  Rambo was just a baby though, and it was said that the people just couldn't bring themselves to kill him.  He was eventually sold to other parks, but he exhibited such bad behavior that he landed in his current living situation with the full knowledge that he needed constant human interaction.  Thus, the elephant interaction tour.  We were allowed to feed Rambo, feel his skin, his tusks, and look into his mouth.  He was nice and congenial about the whole thing.  It was a pretty cool experience and one that left me with a profound appreciation for the sheer size and strength of the creature that fit nicely with his gentleness and grace.

The same could be said about the cheetah.  We did another tour of a cheetah rehabilitation center where we learned about the fastest animal on the planet and then posed for a picture with one.  At first it just felt like a big dog, but then you realize that you have now seen two cheetah kills on the reserve and that this animal, along with the elephant, is not merely capable of killing you, but is more simply allowing you to live.  It was as if his purring was saying, "It's okay, you may run free.  Go, be happy.  I grant you more days."

We saw other cats at the rehabilitation center, but unfortunately we didn't catch sight of any lion on this section of the adventure.  I did an extra tour out to another reserve while Clark did a boat tour of the estuary, but despite a nice showing of the endangered wild dog and an animated troop of baboons, still no sight of lions.  Perhaps Chobe Game Preserve in Botswana will give us a glimpse of the big cat.  We will get our chance in a couple of days as will bid farewell to South Africa.  We have arranged for a ride to the Durban airport at 230 in the morning so we can catch our flight at 7am.  It will be a long night, but it is cool to think that in less than 24 hours, we will be in Livingstone, Zambia, right next to Victoria Falls.  

The safari drives have been fun.  I am already thinking of the letdown that is coming when I hop into a car at home.  I think I will have the natural instinct to lean out the window in hopes of seeing something extraordinary only to be sorely disappointed.  Enjoy the animal pictures.  Next up: Waterfalls!

Summer in Africa 2013: Zulu Nyala Safari

Zulu Nyala Game Reserve

Cape Town to Durban was an easy two hour flight that gave us the afternoon to explore the "Golden Mile" of beachfront in the city.  During apartheid, many of these beaches were infamously whites only, but now they are as multicultural as it gets.  Even for a winter afternoon, the promenade was packed with men, women, and children of all ages and ethnicity.  It made for great people watching in a way that Cape Town was not.

Our hotel was right on the beach overlooking the Indian ocean so I was up early the next morning looking to get a quick run in and hoping to get a pic of the sunrise.  I certainly wasn't alone.  Despite it being 6am on a weekend, loads of people were already out.  After my run, I met Clark back at the hotel for a quick breakfast before being picked up by the game lodge.  We had a three hour drive ahead of us, but first we needed to swing by the airport to pick up the other guests who would accompany us for the remainder of our time at the lodge.  We were eager to meet these people.  I had premonitions of awful American tourists who would embarrass me consistently throughout the week, but secretly I had a feeling they would be interesting people and that they would more than likely make good company.  Pretty soon, they arrived and they are actually really nice people, a couple of them teachers or retired teachers.  For the drive though, and I admittedly have very little patience for being around people in general, but for the love of god they talked nonstop about food the entire way, and I was hungry.  We were passing increasingly foreign terrain with the African bush and all I could hear was yapping about custards and delectable treats.  As soon as we checked in at the lodge, we were greeted by our guide, Janine.  She informed us that our first drive would be that afternoon and to meet her at the jeep at 5.  As soon as we piled in there, the talking continued.  There was seemingly not one moment of peaceful silence the next morning either.  They probably thought I was a mute, but I suppose it has to do with the way in which we all take in new stimulation.  To me, in new situations, I tend to go into keen observation mode, usually quiet and contemplative.  Others seem capable of matching the new stimulus with profound energy, usually manifested in non-stop chatter that would thouroughly exhaust me if I were to attempt it.

As far as the game drives go, they were pretty cool.  The first animals we saw were kudu, Nyala, impalas, and warthogs.  Apparently they are in great number so pretty soon we were passing those as one passes by a deer back home.  It was cool to learn about the differences in males and females of the different species though.  For instance, the Nyala males look way different than the females.  Pretty soon we came upon our first zebras, elephants, and giraffes, and then were treated to a nice showing of hippos at a water hole.  The best was yet to come though, because not only did we happen upon a cheetah sitting in a clearing, but upon second look, she had a just recently taken down an impala.  Panting and with her ears perked, mindful of having her prize stolen from her, she was checking all around before diving back into the feast.  Even the giraffes that were close by were curious enough to come over and crane their necks in from the trees to have a look at what the cheetah was having for dinner.  It was really interesting, albeit a bit gruesome.  

We woke early the next morning for another game drive spotting two more cheetah lazily resting in the road.  Later in the afternoon, we had our first sighting of rhinoceros with a young baby of four months old.  The game drives have been quite fun and we will have more, but the reserve we are at is quite small so there are limited in their carrying capacity of some of the predators and large animals like elephants.  For instance, in order to see lion, we must book a tour with one of the larger game parks nearby.  This is kind of how they empty your wallet here.  We basically have an all expense paid trip with lodging, food, and game drives, but the side excursions, which are must unless you want to keep seeing the same giraffes, are extra.  We narrowed down a few options,  but it looks like we might take one trip to a game reserve outside of the this one in hopes of seeing lion, and we will also try and visit a cheetah rehabilitation center and take a tour that specializes in elephant interactions.  If pictures appear of us feeding elephants and posing with purring cheetahs, you will know we made it.

Wish me luck with my touring companions, or at least wish me some patience  that I could probably use more of in the first place. 

Summer in Africa 2013: Cape Town #2

Cape Town 2

At least a few times per day, either one of us will launch a conversation by saying, "Cape Town is such a cool city." Our schedule has been quite busy the last three days so I will try and recap the best I can and why we keep saying this.

After doing the city hop on/hop off tour the day before we managed to book a tour through a company called DayTrippers.  What this little adventure entailed was a drive over to Hout Bay where we were allowed to board a boat bound for a little place called Seal Rock.  Basically it was a rocky outcrop with some seals, go figure.  As we have both seen plenty of seals in our lifetimes, we didn't feel particularly engaged with the activity, but the boat ride was nice and the views of the harbor and surrounding mountains were spectacular.  After piling back in the van with our group of about 12, we drove further south to a beach where there were a few hundred penguins nesting.  They were cute, but the real adventure lay ahead when we pulled off the side of the rode some 15km from the Cape of Good Hope, the most southwestern point in Africa, and we were told to grab a bicycle.  Testing the bikes on the side of the rode, I came across a wallet and promptly gave it over to our guide who assured me it would find its way home.  With my good karma I took off down the road, which was mostly downhill, and did my best to not instinctively ride on the right side of the road.  This was really hard not to do when going around a blind left turn in the left lane.  Eventually we made it to the end where we jostled with bus loads of other tourists hoping to get a picture with the sign indicating the Cape of Good Hope.     

The next morning, while Clark was enjoying breakfast, I decided to go for a run in the early morning darkness.  I was hoping to catch the sunrise by climbing the second most prominent landmark in Cape Town, the Lions Head.  I ran from our hostel for 50 minutes straight up until I couldn't run anymore.  After that, I was surprised to find a path requiring much more dexterity than I anticipated.  With very hind winds that morning and the extremely exposed slopes, I found my heart in my stomach more often than not.  Chains and ladders assisted in some of the sketchier sections, but eventually I found my way to the top.  I didn't linger to long since I was expected back at the hotel shortly so I carefully made my way back down to where I could pick up a jog again.  It was a wonderful way to start the morning!

For the rest of the morning and afternoon, we elected to join the alternative city hop on/hop off tour called the "blue route."  On this route was a wine tour, which was quite nice, but ended, for me anyways, on a sour note.  As we were leaving, not only did I dump the contents of my water bottle in my bag soaking my passport, maps, phone, and kindle, I ended up leaving said kindle on a bench when the bus unexpectedly showed up early.  In a panic, I grabbed my stuff leaving the kindle behind.  I discovered my error within 15 minutes, but the buses runs circular route and would be back for another 2 hours.  Luckily, the woman working for the bus as an assistant was able to phone another working for a separate bus and they found it.  I was told to simply go to their ticket office at the first stop and it would be there.  I feel very fortunate for that, but unfortunately my phone is another case. It remains to be seen whether that will work.  It is currently in a bag of rice.  

Our next stop on the sightseeing bus was a topic of conversation for me and Clark from the beginning.  We had the opportunity to visit one of the townships outside of Cape Town.  The only reason this gave us pause was because we weren't  entirely sure if the activity would be exploitive, and we were quite simply uneasy with a tour of someone else's poverty with a camera around our necks.  We rationalized our positions as teachers and that we teach lessons pertinent to poverty and it's various causes and implications as a safeguard to our trepidations.  Once we hopped off the bus, we were met with Patrick, our guide and we set off up the road, just the two us in the tour.  I can definitively say this has been the best experience so far on the trip.  We had open and honest dialogue with our guide, the people were friendly, especially the kids, who happen to be out of school on break at the moment, and we got to see some of the inner dynamics of a community in change.  We of course saw dilapidated shacks and squalid living conditions, but we also saw renovations in progress, a very popular computer lab for school children learning computer literacy, a vibrant children's library, preschools, and newer homes with electricity.  We left the tour on a hopeful note.  Obviously there was much work to be done to alleviate the terrible poverty, but the was an undeniable hope for the future.  Perhaps it was all the kids playing in the streets, or the smiling faces at the library and the preschool, but you get the sense that although conditions may be poor, they are not permanent and the people can feel empowered to enact that change.

On our way out, we had the chance to stop by The Original Tea Bag Designs.  http://www.tbagdesigns.co.za/  This was a fantastic organization that in the last few years has transformed the lives of several families in the area.  It started as an income generator for families in the townships by making art out of used tea bags.  We told the women there that we were teachers and that we teach a class that looks into sustainable development and community driven projects to alleviate poverty and they immediately gave us a tour of the building beyond the storefront where men and women were making the products.  It was a great day and I can't wait to share the stories I heard today with my students next year.

As I sit here now and type, we are counting down our hours in Cape Town.  We enjoyed our last morning here by taking a ferry out to Robben Island, the notorious prison that held political prisoners, like Nelson Mandela, for years during apartheid rule.  A bus tour around the island gave us an overview and the history of the place, but the big impact came when we were given a tour of the maximum security prison by a former inmate.  He was engaging and told some incredible stories of their survival before showing us the way out and back to the ferry for a "short walk to freedom."

All I all, I have really enjoyed the trip so far.  I have learned a lot, eaten some really good food, and met some amazing people.  For the next leg in the journey, we will head to the airport in the morning and catch a flight to Durban, another port city on the eastern side of the country.  However, we won't be long there, just enough time to dip my toes in the Indian Ocean for the first time.  We will then get picked up by the Zulu Nyala Game Reserve for our weeklong photo safari.  So expect some animal photos in the next batch of uploads!  Until then, enjoy a little bit of Cape Town.

James

Summer in Africa 2013: Cape Town #1

South Africa is a country of contrasts.  One almost wants to use the terms "black" and "white" to describe it, but they carry the obvious racial implications.  But I suppose that is appropriate, too.  

We had a short flight to Cape Town yesterday.  I knew we could hop on a relatively cheap city bus from the airport to the city center, but I wasn't prepared for the extensive townships that sprawled seemingly without end from the edges of the highway.  At one point, we were so close to the tin roofed shacks that residents's free roaming  livestock, mainly goats and pigs, grazed on patches of grass mere inches from the highway and speeding traffic.  In modern societies, extreme poverty is sometimes well hidden, but here in South Africa, it is unavoidable and even the most hardened to its existence can't deny it.  So, like a stark contrast, day and night, rich and poor, black and white, Cape Town is a beautiful city surrounded by bleak township poverty.  For those unfamiliar with South Africa's history, a long history of discrimination by European colonists created deep racial divides in the country, culminating with decades of Apartheid rule.  Apartheid was a series of laws designed under the system of thought that the various races within in South Africa could not and would not live together.  Eventually, through courageous homegrown activism and international pressure, Apartheid was eventually dismantled leading to a pendulum swing of politics towards a very progressive constitution and free society.  That was twenty years ago.  However,  despite a change in laws, the marginalization of blacks still continues and no more is this so evident than in the squalor of the townships.  

Once you are in the city, if not for the periodic African trinket shop, you might mistake it for a European city.  It is flanked by the beautiful beaches of the Atlantic Ocean and the imposing Table Mountain, a rocky feature that would most assuredly be the first image that pops up if you google "Cape Town."  We arrived somewhat later in the day so after getting settled, we went over to Long Street, an aptly named street lined with bars, backpacker hostels, shops and restaurants, and looked for a bite to eat.  Soon we found ourselves in front of Mama Africa, a popular spot specializing in game meat.  In addition to what I considered a safe chicken curry, I tried kudu, springbok, and crocodile. It was a fantastic way to start my eating habits right after reading and being inspired by Eat and Run, which largely advocates a vegan lifestyle.  Maybe I will start tomorrow.  

The next day had us using the same city sightseeing bus company in Johannesburg.  It was understandably more popular here as it weaves through the city and along the stretches of coastline.  We stopped several times for beach walks, waterfront parks, and something called the District 6 museum, which chronicled the forced removal and razing of a largely black part of town.    The city is beautiful and throughout the day we met wonderfully kind and engaging people.  However, the streets could have been lined with gold and it still wouldn't have made me forget about the people on the edge of town.  Actually, come to think of it, there is some sort of gold museum where you could drink wine and they would sprinkle the drink with gold dust, or something of that nature.  That made me think of the townships even more.

Tomorrow, we wake up early to catch a little bus with a guide that will take us down to the Cape of Good Hope.  There, we will see the penguins that live there, and if we are lucky, the aggressive and sometimes amazingly bold baboons of the region.  I have heard stories of purses, lunches, and articles of clothing stolen in plain sight.  

I hope everyone in Oregon is finding ways to escape the heat.  The heat wave is even on the news here!

James 

Summer in Africa 2013: Johannesburg

Joburg

I figured my body was not going to appreciate the 24 some odd hours of flight and airport time to get to South Africa so I was pleasantly surprised to feel limber and energetic while waiting to clear the passport queue at Tambo Airport in Johannesburg.  That is not to say I enjoyed every minute.  Our original 5 hour flight from Portland to Washington DC took 6 because of weather.  We circled over the same West Virginia hills for what seemed like forever, every so often catching a glimpse of the massive afternoon thunderheads keeping us at bay.  Because of our delay, there was no time to take care of my appetite before boarding the 2nd of our three leg journey to Johannesburg.  Our DC flight took us 8 hours, 2 of them hungrily, to Dakar, Senegal, where upon landing, I had the immense pleasure of whispering to myself, "I'm in Africa."  The romanticism was soon lost realizing that 1) I couldn't leave the plane, 2) It would be an hour before we took off again, and 3) Once we took off, it would be another 8 hours before our arrival to South Africa.  But, like I said earlier, I felt pretty good once we arrived.  It certainly wasnt because I was well rested.  I can't sleep on airplanes and unless I considerably lose some height over the years, I never will.  I'm thinking it had a lot to do with the book I was reading on my birthday Kindle.  I was able to get lost in Scott Jurek's Eat and Run book.  If you are into athletics, nutrition and sports psychology, it's a good one.  After finishing that, I started on Nelson Mandela's Long Walk to Freedom.  Given the rapidly deteriorating health of the anti-apartheid icon and locales in which we would be visiting, I figured it to be required reading.  I'm only a few chapters in and I'm already enthralled.

After an hour long  line at the passport control check, we were waived through to the baggage area where I was able to exchange US dollars to the colorful SA Rand and locate a pay phone to call Greg, our host at Shoestrings Airport Lodge.  We were picked up a scant ten minutes later joining two students from Germany already in the backseats.  While relishing the opprtunity to speak German, Morgerg engaged the students while I sat up in front marveling at the fact that I was in the drivers seat with no controls and that we were driving on the opposite side of the road.  There is no way I could have rented a car here!

At the hostel, we quickly settled into the bunks and joined a few others around the fire in the living room watching the news.  Obama is  in town and combine that with uncertainty over Mandela's health and there didn't seem to be much else on which to report.  Hanging around the communal area reminds me of the Camino de Santiago walk across Spain and all of the people you meet.  It makes me miss it all that much more.  Just like in Spain, we get to travel to a foreign country, but the people we meet are truly from all around the world.  I even went to bed laughing at the absurd reminder that everyone snores in the same language.

However, unlike the Camino, there would be no rousing of sleepy bodies at 5 in the morning, packing their bags and making those loud clashes and bangs made only by people when they are desperately trying not wake anyone up.  Instead, it was me, who by 5:30 in the morning and definitively awake, slid off the top bunk to go shower and read in the communal area.  After a couple of hours, more and more people awoke and readied themselves for whatever they had planned.  Morberg and I have just one day in Johannesburg to explore so we asked for walking directions to the Gautrain, a new commuter train linking some of the more affluent neighborhoods to the city center.  We found it without much trouble, hopped on at waited for the Park Station stop.  Our main objective of the day was to visit the Apartheid Museum and it just so happens to be one of the stops on the City Sightseeing Hop On/Hop Off buses.  These double decker buses come equipped with audio tours and it was perfect way to get introduced to the city.  It was a Sunday, but still pretty vibrant as we weaved in and out of inner city areas that were in various states of regeneration, stagnation, or just plain disrepair.  All told, it was really interesting and we were soon dropped off at Stop#6, the Apartheid Museum.  Cameras were not allowed so I can't show any pictures, but it was easy to lose yourself for a few hours here.  From the dual entrance, one for whites and one for non-whites, there was an immediate gut response that set a tone of unease for the duration of the experience.  That tone still resonated long after we hopped back onto the city tour bus.  The audio tour was speaking about some notable alumni at a city university, but my mind was still pondering the apartheid history.  It was not that I couldn't believe it. After all, we had and continue to experience similar racial injustices in the United States, but I have trouble comprehending the amount of time it takes for a change in ideas, or the amount of time people are stubbornly willing to cling to world views that are so fundamentally wrong and morally corrupt.  

We are now back at the hostel.  A group of American high school students from Colorado are expected tonight so the host moved me and Morberg to a room with just two beds to make room in the dormitory.  That is a nice little upgrade!  Tomorrow is a travel day as we board a plane to Cape Town.  The two hour flight seems an insignificant amount of time after the length our initial journey.  We are expected to spend about 5 days in Cape Town, which is considered one of the best places in the world to visit.  The only dilemma will be trying to decide what to do first?  Will it be visiting Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for many years?  Perhaps the hike up toTable Mountain?  The Cape of Good Hope?  Or maybe just a fancy tour of the famous vineyards?  Who knows?  But we do want to say thanks for all the well wishes and thoughts.  We will have more exciting pics when we travel through Cape Town.  

Take good care for now,

James

Summer in Africa

Millers on the Way was originally intended to give our friends and family back home a sense of what the Camino de Santiago, a 500 mile pilgrimage walk in Northern Spain, was like.  The trip was a wonderful adventure and rather than let the blog lie dormant, we used the site briefly to post some pics from last summer's John Muir Trail hike through the Sierras in California.  So here I am again awaking the travel blog from its slumber by frantically typing, packing, cleaning, and panicking, just hours away from embarking on another adventure.  Something tells me this trip will be a bit different, though.

For starters, we are traveling to Africa.  We will visit several countries starting in South Africa and if all goes well, will eventually find ourselves in Nairobi, Kenya.  All my travel research seemingly leads me back to the often referenced "TIA" or "This Is Africa."  In other words, as amazing as it is, it is advised to pack some extra patience when traveling through Africa.

In another way, this trip will be different just for simple fact that for the first time in 4 summers, I will not be packing any of my students along.  Instead I will be accompanied by a well read and well traveled colleague of mine at Springfield High School.  He goes by Clark.  Or Morberg.  Whatever one you fancy.  I'm sure you'll meet him at some point.

While I look forward to not carrying around the heavy load that is responsibility for someone else's kids whose parents, though undoubtedly enjoy their time off from them, would like them back someday, I also feel a bit sad.  I know at the first moment of exposure to something unique, I will look around and wish we had some students to share with.  I suppose that is what we will try and do with this blog, just share some of those moments the best we can.

Internet will be a bit spotty in many of the places we will visit (TIA) so expect intermittent posts.  Pics will be uploaded via the Facebook page of the same name.  There is a link to that on the right side of the page.  In the meantime, check out breehikes.com.  Bree, who helped me out tremendously on the Camino, is blistering her way up along the PCT.  She is hiking strong, her posts are honest, her pics are amazing, and the only thing she is guilty of is living my dream.

---James