Buffalo, Baboons, and Beetles, Oh My!

April 15, 2006

Tax day! We get an automatic extension because we are overseas; we don’t even need to think about it for two more months. In the meantime we are exploring the beauty of SA.

We had a peaceful time at Malala Lodge. We explored Hluhluwe, where we saw giraffes, buffalo, warthogs, impala, nyala, kudu, baboons, zebra, and a dung beetle. They were all wandering freely through the park. The giraffe walked right in front of our car!










We also spent a day at St Lucia. This is a little town on an estuary of the Indian Ocean. We visited a snake and crocodile park where Zman got to touch a snake! We played on the beach and enjoyed a boat ride through the estuary where we saw numerous hippos and birds.






It was a melancholy day when we had to pack and leave Malala. It was a beautiful place, well worth the price of admission. Next we hung out in Durban. Here we hooked up with a friend of a friend. He drove us around, helping us procure some items we needed, and even had us out to his house for a braai. We visited a water park that was tons of fun, although Zachary wasn’t so sure about it. Beyond that we organized our things, repacked our bags and prepared for more flying.

We touched down in Johannesburg in the afternoon. Mom met us at the airport with our host; Willy, and his six year old Claudia. Willy is German. He has lived in SA for thirty-eight years. He had an interesting take on the place he calls home. He provided us with a beautiful room, a well stocked bar, and excellent food. Perhaps the best part though was Claudia. She and Zachary got along famously. They ran around the house, playing and chatting well into the night. We saw some interesting things and had some interesting interactions, but those are stories for another day.



MJR

Malala Lodge, part 2

April 6, 2006

We are back at Malala Lodge. We have a cozy little cabin here with its own kitchen and lots of beer. The birds are amazing. The brochure claims over 250 identified species. It is extremely peaceful

Today we went next door to see a Zulu village and dancing. It was quite interesting. We were led through the place, shown traditional dress (or lack thereof) and traditional ways of accomplishing tasks. It was like a museum; nothing at all like our trip through the Dogon villages. The Dogon still live the same way their ancestors did. The Zulu have been integrated more into society. Their traditional forms exist merely for the spectacle, although I understand they do rely heavily on tradition for weddings and rites of that nature. Another important thing to remember is that Zulu is an official language of South Africa (there are thirteen).






The tour was interesting and very entertaining. They demonstrated how they made spears and other metal works, the making of clay pots, traditional healing methods, the stringing of beads, and a dance. At the end of the dance they dragged members of the audience up to try their luck. I was one of the victims.








We came home, lunched, and napped. Now we sit on our porch gazing at a great hairy beast that looks a bit like an elk except with stripes on its back. You know Z man is still asleep or we would never see any wildlife. I never would have believed that one human being could actually talk that much! You may go ahead and laugh at the irony here, but he talks way more than I do…

At any rate we seem to have bought way too much booze and I must now focus on making sure none gets wasted.
MJR

Simplicity

March 16, 2006

Decisions here are simple.

I don’t have to think about where I can get the best produce or where soap is on sale because there is only one place to shop. We don’t have to choose what type of food to eat or what restaurants to eat in, there is only one choice. I never worry about what fashions to wear, or that my clothing suits the weather – it’s always hot.




There is certainly something to be said for simplicity. We have peeled away so many extraneous pieces of our lives simply by moving here. I don’t have a lot of “stuff” (it’s all in storage) and I find I don’t need it. We don’t have a car that is reliable, but there aren’t too many places to go. There is a certain freedom in this simplicity.




There is also a sense of “missing out” on all the rest but it feels okay to miss out for a while after having so many choices to make in New York.

Another Benefit:
Last month we went to a Valentines dinner and dance at the club here. After ‘shaking his booty’ and then a good dinner, Zachary fell sound asleep under a speaker on two armchairs pushed together to make a little bed. After a lot more dancing, some adult conversation, and a couple cocktails, we all went home. Mark carried Zachary the three blocks to his bed and he never even woke up. So easy!




Similarly last night we went to a spontaneous BBQ at Reg’s house. Yummy food, good laughs, and lots of S. African history. After dinner and playing with the bunnies in the yard, Zachary first played among the 6 giant pillows on Reg’s big bed, then fell sound asleep under his speakers playing Stevie Ray Vaughn. A couple hours later, I carried him the three blocks home and he slept soundly through the night. So simple!

I imagined this is what it might be like to live on a commune. I have always wanted to have all my dearest friends living within a 3 mile radius (easy bike ride) of me. Preferably on a tropical island, but a little patch of the Northwest would be just as nice – with a little river running through it! Maybe this is a rehearsal for that dream.




Now all I have to do is get my dearest to be nearest!

CSN

Kosi Bay

April 4, 2006

Wow, it’s April fourth already! I have lost track of the days. I had to ask someone what day it was yesterday. He was a little astounded that I would not know.

We are in a cabin at a place called Kosi Bay. It is a stone’s throw from Mozambique. Our lodge sits at the end of a sand road. We were unsure if our little Nissan sedan would make it, but here we are. It’s a bit of a disappointment this place. Malaria is a big problem here. The advertising boasts screens on all the windows. This is true, however there are also big gaps in the flooring, the siding, and the eaves. The screens provide little comfort at all.

The brochure also has beautiful pictures of the bay. The lodge is nowhere near the bay though. It costs an extra $35 a piece to get there; so much for four leisurely days hanging out on the beach. We went yesterday. It was truly beautiful. The Indian Ocean is really warm here. There are several estuaries as well that make for some okay snorkeling and a good place for Z to paddle around in his floating turtle.




The first day here we hiked the quarter mile to the lake. There are signs that warn of hippos, crocs, and snakes, but we didn’t see any of these things. The manager advised us not to swim.



Once we observed all of the local boys taking the plunge, we got our suits and dived in. it’s shallow for a long ways. It turns out that this lake is part of a series of lakes that lead to the bay. As a result, the water is somewhat salty. The locals laughed when we asked about crocs and hippos.

Zachary has insisted on learning to play cards. I taught him first Slapjack and then War. We have played several times and I am sure that there will be many thousands more. He keeps telling me he wants to learn cribbage, but I think I’ll wait a little while before teaching him that. I think we’ll wait even longer before he gets to play the cousins. They can be pretty ruthless at a good game of cribbage.

Today we relax and hang out. Tomorrow we drive back through Sodwana Bay and then on to HluHlue. It will be a challenge to enjoy myself today as my skin is burned and the sun is shining, but I will persevere.
MJR

Malala Lodge

March 31, 2006

It’s so quiet here. There are whistles and hoots and an occasional train in the distance. We are the only guests until this evening when others will invade.

This morning I woke up at six. I could sleep no longer so I got dressed and took a long walk. I saw many tracks and fresh scat. At several points I heard crashing in the bushes beside me. I rounded one bend and scared off a squat deer looking thing. I collided with spiders, marveled at birds, and wandered aimlessly for over an hour. Upon my return to our cottage I surprised a monkey that quickly scurried off into the bush.
MJR

Off We Go

March 30, 2006

Bamako was good, but I’m glad to be gone. I bought a balafon for my sister. It was packed into a box that looks exactly like a coffin. I bought a bunch of fabric to pack around it, I even ordered some tailor made shirts to go in there too. The shirts didn’t get done in time so I had to pack them in my suitcase.

We got to the Bamako airport around six for a 7:30 pm flight. We bumped into some South African okes that were on their way home. They had been working on a mine in Guinea for six months and now had some time off. I managed to befriend one drunken fool who proceeded to bug the shit out of me until we got on the plane.

We loaded into a half empty plane for our seven hour flight to Nairobi. It’s interesting, actually, after you check in, you go through a security check to get to the departure gate. When it’s time to load up you have to place your bags on a table where they are visually inspected and a metal detecting wand is run over you, then after identifying your checked baggage, you walk across the tarmac, up the stairs and onto the plane.

We picked our seats. Carrie got one row and I got another. Zachary bounced between us, eventually passing out next to me. Good food, good movies, and one drunk, obnoxious idiot bugging me every twenty minutes. At one point he invited me to step into the bathroom for a smoke. I politely declined.

We touched down early in Nairobi. We were on the wrong side of the plane to see Mount Kilimanjaro of course, but we got some nice views of the city. We were delayed at the gate waiting for security to arrive. When I saw the drunken fool escorted to the back of the aircraft I realized why security had been called. We walked across the tarmac, up some really whacked out slanty stairs and into the terminal. It was now about 6:00 am local time (three hours ahead of Mali, eight hours ahead of NYC, eleven hours ahead of Seattle). All of the shops were opening up, but we were not allowed to enter our gate waiting area. We found a public area and stared at the wall for half an hour till they let us in.

When we finally lined up for the gate, we bumped into drunken fool’s friends. I asked them what had happened to him. They said that security had taken him off and good riddance. While his buddies rode with us to Jo’burg, we didn’t see him again. He has my email, maybe I’ll get the rest of the story and we can all have a laugh on him. We had our bags x-rayed again, went through the metal detector again, and sat in a little room with more people than chairs until they called our flight. At that point we walked out the door, down the whacked out slanty steps, crossed in front of two jets waiting at gates, through the extra loading stairs, past the baggage trains, out to the middle of the runway where our plane was parked.

This plane was filled so no choice on the seats. We occupied one row, Zachary at the window and me on the aisle. It was a four hour flight to Johannesburg. May I just take this opportunity to say that Zachary is the best traveler ever? The boy rocks. He kneels on the floor, playing quietly with his toys. When he gets bored he recruits Carrie or me to walk the aisle with him. He smiles at everyone, slaps high fives when asked, walks to the back of the plane and back to his seat and sits again to play some more. We all got a little sleep…in the last ten minutes of the flight.

The flight was excruciating. We were all tired of flying after twelve hours and just wanted to arrive and be done. Unfortunately, there was more to come. The Jo’burg airport is divided up into different terminals. International flights have one terminal and domestic flights have several others. We exited the plane, waited in line to present our passports and immunization information and proceeded to baggage claim. We went to the carousel marked with our flight, but our bags weren’t there. We finally spotted the “coffin” lying to the side and asked the fellow where our bags might be. He directed us to the carousel marked “Paris”. Of course, why didn’t we think of that?

Customs didn’t even ask about the box. We breezed through and headed out. A porter caught up with us and took us to long term storage where we deposited the coffin and headed for our next plane which departed in, what time is it?, oh shit thirty minutes! There are no shuttle busses so we ran down the sidewalk to the next terminal.

We stood in line, watching the minutes tick by, hoping we wouldn’t miss the plane. They expressed us through. Fortunately, there were several folks in line for the same flight. We checked our bags, blazed through security, and made like O.J. Simpson to the gate. Of course ours was the last gate in the terminal, but we made it! They sat us in business class even! Free drinks, a tremendous breakfast, newspaper, fresh bread, too bad we were only in the air an hour.

We rented a car and drove (on the left) to our hotel where we promptly passed out for three hours. We woke, had dinner, and slept the rest of the night. Closer inspection in the daylight revealed that we were staying in the Bronx with a beach. The fellow at the liquor store warned us not to wander far. We bought supplies and blazed a trail. It was a beautiful drive if just slightly disconcerting being on the left. Tonight we are in the woods (I saw a zebra!). We are finally relaxing after the trials of travel.
MJR

International Women’s Day

Today was the first day of the Harmatan Winds (very warm winds that sweep across the deserts bringing a fine dust to cover the West of Mali with it!) It just so happens that today is also the International Day of Women!
I was pleased to receive an invitation and agenda for the days events organized by the Malian Women of the mining village. (Sadly a separate celebration was being held in nearby Sadiola Village.) The activities began at 9 am while school was still in session but I feel pleased to be able to attend the program in the afternoon.

The morning activity was a street clean-up! While this may seem like a nice community effort, shouldn’t this be a day off from work of any kind for women? Not here, instead the women swept the streets, with small wicker brooms, from one end of the village to the other! These Malian women stooped over brushing away dirt (no real trash in the streets here) and surrounded themselves with great clouds of dust. Hmmmm, how is this honoring the women exactly? Frankly, I’m glad I missed this part!

Next on the afternoon’s agenda was a lecture followed by a discussion. This piece interested me in particular, as the topics were: Female Genital Mutilation; Women in the Workplace; and AIDS awareness and health issues. These talks were to be followed by related sketches, and the afternoon to conclude with dancing! This looked to be fascinating. Even if I had to challenge my French to understand the speakers, I was willing to try!

Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan. This is Africa, time moves differently so I knew things wouldn’t start on time. I arrived instead at about 5:30 (with a Filipino and a Canadian) to find that the sound system was not in working order. Instead of commencing at the scheduled 4:00, about 80 women were sitting waiting in a large circle while children played in the middle. During this time, 15 or so men fiddled with the sound system, finally solving the problem at about 6:30! Oh dear.

The waiting wasn’t bad actually. The sun was low, the veil of dust providing even more protection. I amused myself by watching the tiny children, practicing my French and teaching the older kids near me how to ‘thumb wrestle’. The Malian women seemed content to chat, dance a little, and relax in the chairs (they had carried from their homes). It did feel nice to be there. I felt welcome, though clearly provided an odd attraction.

Speaking of chairs, this is fascinating. There were two small couches set up on one part of the circle. When we arrived we chose to sit in some of the few remaining plastic chairs behind these soft cushy ones, assuming that they were to be for the speakers or performers. Ha! When a few men arrived in fancy dress, they were led directly to these couches by other men! This is International Women’s Day? These men, it turns out are the mayor, and heads from the company, but……


Well nonetheless, the evening came to a fine crescendo once the audio system finally began to work. A couple brief speeches, in French, were followed by two quite clever sketches. The first message encouraged women not to let their daughters be mutilated through circumcision. Its dangers were clearly depicted. The second skit was about women in the work force. Two women humorously acted as men who were intolerant of their wives’ interest in getting jobs. The women spoke up against this intoleration, and in the end won the ‘freedom’ to try to work. Interesting and enlightening.


The best part of the evening was the last. 40 or so women got up to dance in a line that continuously moved in a circle in on itself. It was simple. A dance, it seemed that everyone had done before and the real reason they had all come and waited so long. I know that moment was what I had really come for. In fact the majority of the women wore bubu’s (dresses) made from a beautiful batik fabric on which had been printed “Jour des Femmes International 2006 Mali, Afrique”. Turns out that the government had had this fabric made and had sent it to any group organizing an event! That’s amazing.

The dance expressed a desire from the women to share a common energy, a moment of freedom; from work, from talk, from home, from children. They sang, they moved, and they laughed a lot. Though we didn’t have to be, we were invited to join. I did, and it felt wonderful to participate, to share in the spirit of freedom and of sisterhood.
Here’s to the International Women ….aren’t we all?!




CSN

Yes We Can Go Now

March 28, 2006

Yea! We’re on vacation! Here we sit in Bamako, waiting to leave for the airport, fly all night and arrive in SA.

We are again taking advantage of the generosity of our fellow teachers here in the big city. We are reminded too of how dirty Bamako is. There is dust, dirt, garbage, and open pit sewers. The smell is unique. To top it off, it’s hotter than the hinges of Hades. Every time we go out we get sweaty and filthy.

Being here does afford us the opportunity of being social with the other teachers. We went out for a night on the town with a group of several others. The food was great. We all laughed and had a good time. No shop talk was allowed.
Our trip to the falls last week was largely uneventful, although we did get to see a hooded cobra! He was down inside a hole and couldn’t get out. We got some pictures and then lowered a branch so he could climb out. It was quite impressive.

On our last day of classes we had a swimming party at the club. This was partly due to the fact that we will be losing one of our kindergartners. A spitfire of a kid and a great friend to Zachary, she will be sorely missed.

We flew out of Sadiola on Saturday morning aboard the smallest commercial plane I have ever ridden; a nine seat turbo prop. We essentially sat in the cockpit since the whole plane is the cockpit. Z-man watched all the gauges and fell sound asleep. We scoped the view, chatted with other passengers and gritted our teeth through the turbulence.


It’s good to spend time in Bamako because it reminds us of how nice Sadiola is. I am forever grateful that we live there and not here…
MJR