Sitting Here in Limbo

January 21, 2007

Only two more weeks of work and we’re off for Boston. Right now we are sitting in limbo; wondering where we will be going next. It could be anywhere in the world. We have seen many good openings in places like Switzerland, Turkey, India, Vietnam, Argentina, and Ethiopia. We haven’t actually been offered any of those positions, they are just vague possibilities; reminders that we have absolutely no idea where next we will live. In three weeks I will know.

Although I’m not sure I really want to know. I mean half the fun is in the speculation; exploring the possibilities and trying to imagine what the next place will be like. I can’t think of one single instance where anything has turned out as I imagined it. I know Mali hasn’t, but what else do I expect? In most ways it’s better than I imagined.

Many folks here have lamented the fact that we are leaving. Some profess to secretly hoping that we will be offered no positions and be forced to return to Sadiola. That sounds like fun huh? Trying to get out, working to get out, telling others that you are leaving, and then…no! no one else wants you! That would have to hurt. Hopefully there is no future blog on that particular topic.

Anyway, Boston will be good. It will be cold, but I think that will be refreshing. I read with great interest about the errant weather striking the US; tons of snow in the Northwest and hardly any in Michigan. Ice storms, and record snowfall while here the weather is cold as well; every morning this week has found the old mercury hovering near seventy. It makes the walk to work a little faster so that we don’t get too chilled. I’m not kidding; seventy degrees is cold here. Boston will be a refreshing slap in the face weather-wise. I can hardly wait.

Boston will also be the first time we get to meet our new boss. We have emailed back and forth but have yet to actually see him face to face. How bizarre; we’ll meet our new boss while he is at a job fair trying to find replacements for us. He hasn’t even seen the place. He has no idea what the school or the village is like. I’m waiting for Rod Serling to pop up…

I will genuinely miss this place. For all its shortfalls, Sadiola is a nice place. I am comfortable here. We have established our spot and developed a community of friends. In New York I could hardly wait to leave, but here I want to put off thinking of the inevitable. I know it’s the best thing to do, I know that three years here would be way too long, I know that newer adventures await, and still I will be very sad when our final day arrives.
MJR

I Was Never Like That

January 13, 2007

Ah, the weekend at last!

This week has been nothing but challenging. I predicted it and it was true. I spent Sunday preparing my classroom for three new students. They have arrived, been assessed, and even disciplined a few times.

Every student I have had enter my class tries to sit and do nothing and get away with it. Usually I have to get really upset, embarrassing them in front of their schoolmates before they realize I am serious. I mean I only have eleven students in the room; do they think I won’t notice if they’re just sitting, staring into space?

We have reviewed rules, renewed routines, and established new ones. It’s harder than the first week of school because most of my students already know what my expectations are. I have to direct most of the discussion at the three new ones, but keep the other eight properly occupied so as not to lose them completely.

Needless to say it was a long week. I’m glad it’s over. Everything is running fairly smoothly, although there still seems to be some question as to who is in charge. These issues should be resolved this week.

Thursday night I went to a tremendous concert in the village. A fellow named Moullibally (sp?) Keita performed at the civic auditorium. The balafons were amazing even if they were overshadowed by the djembe player. The folks that play the djembe always seem to think that everyone has come only to hear them. It is a very loud drum and tends to drown out the rest of the band. While the talking drum is an amazing instrument and mesmerizing in its sounds, it is often overshadowed by the djembe.

At this show there were two balafons (Malian marimbas). They sat in center stage. One played a rhythm line while the other played lead. I love to watch the hands of the players. It astounds me that they can play that fast. Unfortunately, the djembe player stood right in front of the lead player with his back to the audience. Instead of watching the guys play, I only got a good shot of the drummer’s ass. He had a very nice ass, don’t get me wrong, but what I really wanted to see was his hands! At any rate the show was magnificent. When I find a CD by them I will definitely buy it.

Tonight there is another show close to the mine village. It is actually an employee party that takes place at the Malian club right outside the main gate. Last year we had the privilege of watching Habib Koite; a superb musician. Tonight we will see Abdouliy (sp?) Diabate; I’ll let you know how that goes.
MJR

Isn't Air Travel Great?

January 8, 2007

We started school today, but that wasn’t our first headache.

Our trip back to Johannesburg was uneventful. We stayed in another hotel, swam in another pool, ate at another restaurant, and slept in a different bed. We killed some time at a mall, picking up some last minute items to take home with us. When we arrived at the airport we met up with one of my students. She was staying with her dad; her mom had already flown back to the mine so she was traveling with us. Our flight left at 12:40 am from Jo’burg and arrived in Nairobi around 5:50 am (local time; 4:50 SA time). Our next flight left at 8:50.

At 8:00 we learned that our plane was delayed until 11:30. Fortunately, there were a dozen folks from the mine also on the plane. We sat around a coffee shop and ran all over the airport for the next three hours, boarding our plane at 11:30. We sat on the runway for awhile and then headed off on our seven hour journey back to Bamako. Three hours later we landed in…Nairobi: technical problems! After two hours on the runway we took off again.

This time we were headed straight for Dakar. Normally the plane would stop in Bamako and then go to Dakar, but the delay meant that the pilots had to get to Senegal before their flight time ran out. We flew right over Bamako and landed in Dakar. Two hours on the runway and then off for Bamako, landing a scant 1 hour and 35 minutes later. We arrived in Mali at 12:30 am; twelve hours after our scheduled arrival.

We were carted off to a hotel where we grabbed a few hours sleep, piled into a van, drove back to the airport, and loaded the small plane for the last leg of the journey.

The big news is this: our boss no longer works for the main school. For reasons unknown he was asked to leave back in December. The whack part of the whole thing however, lies in the procurement of this knowledge. Anna met a woman on the plane who turned out to be a fifth grade teacher at the main campus. We had never met her as she had been hired late. She told us James was gone; our own office had neglected to inform us of anything! Talk about feeling left out of the loop!! You would think that if your boss got fired, somebody would have the decency to at least tell you, but apparently that’s not the way things work here.

At any rate, I have three new students, all girls. That brings the total to eleven ranging in age from six to nine with ability levels to match. It’s going to be a challenging week…
MJR

Wow, Cool, Now Run

January 2, 2007

Today we drove about 400 kilometers from Pandamatenga to Francistown. It’s the same stretch of road where we got the flat tires. We took it slow.

Yesterday we encountered two elephants grazing in the bush by the side of the road. Today we stopped to gaze at one that was practically standing in the road. He paid us little mind as he grazed, finally wandering off into the trees. We were awestruck that we should encounter such a sight. I mean I have seen plenty of deer, rabbits, opossums, and coyotes hanging by the side of the road; but never an elephant.
A short time later we came across another one. This one was right out in the open, picking leaves off of a tree. We stopped alongside to get some pictures. When it caught sight of us, it turned, flapped its ears, stomped its foot, and let out a loud blast. I didn’t wait around to see what would happen next. I think I left more than a little rubber on the pavement as we sped away.


Needless to say, I didn’t stop to observe the next two elephants we saw. Oh sure, I slowed down a bit, but there was no way I was going to stop.
MJR

Bye Bye Zimbabwe

January 1, 2007

Today was a sad day.

I have mentioned the sad state of affairs in Zimbabwe; let me elaborate. The official exchange rate is 250 Zim Dollars for 1 U.S. Dollar. This rate has been set by His Excellency, the president and it can only be changed by him. In the meantime, Zim Dollars are printed with an expiration date and suffer from 1,000% inflation per year. Since every other major currency is more stable than that, the street value of the American Dollar is actually 2,000 to 1.

If you go to the ATM and withdraw $100 (US) you get Z$25,000. If you take a one hundred dollar bill and trade it on the street, you’ll get Z$200,000. The problem is that everything is priced according to the street value so if you got cash from the bank, you’re getting royally ripped off. To further complicate matters, many places forbid foreigners from spending Zim$. VISA is virtually unheard of, but that’s probably a good thing because you’d get charged at the bank rate for all purchases. The bottom line is this; if you’re planning on traveling to Zimbabwe anytime soon, you must plan on bringing all the money you plan on spending while you’re there. If you keep your trip short, you may only need $1,000 or so in cash.

We made two trips into Botswana in order to replenish our cash. At six to $1 the Pula is one of the strongest currencies in Africa and certainly the strongest in southern Africa. Unfortunately, the cash machine controls how much one can withdraw at a time. As a result, we arrived at Sikumi Tree Lodge with limited funds. Everything had been paid for in advance except drinks. Knowing that they would not accept VISA, we drank very little; juice for Z, occasional Cokes, and a few beers on New Years.

New Years Eve was fabulous, by the way. The power went out just before the dancers came on so the staff lit candles. The dancing was amazing, the food divine. Zachary had succeeded in befriending everyone on the staff so he danced and danced. A man named Kosim was particularly fond of the little man and the two of them had a wonderful time together.

Okay, back to the story; our bar bill came to Z$28,000. This translates to a street value of $14. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to pay with Zim$ and the official conversion came to almost $120! A close look at the bill revealed that Cokes cost Z$1,500. When converted at the street rate that equals 75 cents, but when converted “officially” it equals $6.

Carrie and Anna handled the negotiations; they argued that the prices were outrageous and if they were planning on charging us in foreign currency they should have given us the prices that way. They should also have duel rate schedules for foreigners and nationals. We ended up giving them the equivalent of $50. Kosim would not even look them in the eye as they left. We were very sad that such a great experience had to end on such a low note. Edward agreed with us and said he felt that the prices for beverages were way too high.

We drove away with heavy hearts, though we were all anxious to get out of the country. Tonight we rest in Pandamataga, Botswana.
MJR

Deep in the Heart of Zimbabwe

December 31, 2006

We are now staying at a wonderful place called Sikumi Tree Lodge. Our cabin is up on stilts like a tree house. The establishment sits at a watering hole on one end of 151 square kilometers of private land that borders a national park called Hwange. The package one pays for includes food, lodging, and one activity per day. Just sitting, watching the water hole is enough. There is a flock of storks that hangs out there all the time. We have also seen impala, warthog, guinea fowl, and of course the ever present baboons.

We arrived on the 29th and were immediately whisked off on a game drive. We saw many birds, zebra, wildebeest, jackal, and two lions. It was magnificent. There is something about stumbling onto creatures in their natural environment that just cannot be beat.




Yesterday we took a tour of the local village. We have had the same guide throughout. Each guide is assigned to a group and they stick with that group for the duration of their stay. Our guide’s name is Edward. He is Zimbabwean and is very knowledgeable about the wildlife in the area. He showed us the clinic, the store, two schools, and even the home of one of the employees of the lodge. The clinic currently has one nurse and no electricity even though the power lines run within fifty feet of the building. The nurse told us that few of the villagers utilize the facilities because they generally cannot afford to pay for treatment.
Schools used to be free in Zimbabwe, but now everyone must pay. Class sizes are kept at a measly forty students and they have glass in the windows. If you ignore the fact that many of the windows are broken, the furniture is falling apart, there are cracks in the floor the size of the Grand Canyon, and there is no electricity; the school is just like schools in the U.S. The high school we visited was a much different picture. The science teacher let us into his classroom; it had electricity, running water, and gas for the Bunsen burners. He told us that most of the rural schools offer housing for their teachers. If they don’t, they have great difficulty finding staff. He is quite happy at the high school, but then most folks who actually have jobs are ecstatic that they can feed their family.


Indeed, Zimbabwe is in a sad state. The economy is in shambles, unemployment is through the roof, and people are very unhappy. Most agree that the president is to blame, but they try not to say that too loud as dissenters tend to disappear. Robert Mugabe has been in office for some time (twenty+ years) and shows no sign of giving up his place any time soon (he’s 85). He rigs elections, kills the opposition, and basically does whatever he wants. In the meantime his constituency is starving; scraping whatever they can to get by. It’s very sad.

Anyway, today we went on a morning game drive at 5:30. We saw giraffe, kudu, steenbuck, crowned cranes, painted dogs, and more impala than we cared to count. We were disappointed that we saw no elephant, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Tonight is a party complete with native dancers. We are excited and attempting to rest up after our early morning.

There really are painted dogs in this picture...look harder!

MJR

Crazy Water, Crazy Driving

December 29, 2006

Fourteen guys showed up on day two to load boats and tear down camp. Carrie was in heaven.

They wouldn’t let us do anything. We just had to sit and watch while the work got done. Finally we loaded into the boat and headed downstream. Now we had an oar rig to haul gear and our boat for us. Jackson showed up to take a boat. Since he is sort of a boss, he took over from Quiet and controlled our raft for the next day and a half.

He was okay, but we missed Quiet. Instead of saying “paddle”, Quiet would say “packie”. Back paddle turned into back packie. At first we had no idea what he was saying, but by day two we genuinely missed it.

Anyway, day two was slower than day one with long flat stretches between rapids. Some of the whitewater was still huge, don’t get me wrong, but there was more time to enjoy the scenery. The currents were amazing; huge water funneled down into tiny little narrows. This created giant boils of swirling water appearing and disappearing. Apparently at higher water these boils become big enough to suck a boat under. For us they were big enough to impress, but not so big as to terrify. Our captains guided us expertly through it all; even the last two of the day which were two of the biggest rapids I have ever seen. We camped between two monsters; the upper one huge, but run without a hitch, and the lower one unrunnable by anyone’s definition.



In 1905, G.W. Lamplugh encountered the above falls and formed this impression: "Insignificant in height, it is true, but when one stands on the brink and sees the whole volume of the great Zambezi converging into a single pass only fifty or sixty feet in width, shuddering, and then plunging for twenty feet in a massive curve that seems in its impact visibly to tear the grim basaltic rocks asunder, one learns better then from the feathery spray-fans of Victoria Falls what force there is in the river, and one wonders no longer at the profundity of the gorge."

Day three was short; only about an hour on the river after the first portage. The take out was a rocky beach set right at the spot where a dam was supposed to have been built. Fortunately, the Zambians backed out and Zimbabwe couldn’t afford to continue. We de-rigged the boats and helped cart gear about a mile to the “road”. There we loaded all the equipment and fourteen people into a Toyota pickup and traversed the worst forest service road imaginable. More than once I swore we would topple off the edge. After an hour of hair raising adventure we came to a more sensible dirt road. Shortly thereafter we were delayed by a flat tire.



To their credit, the folks at Frontier had come equipped with three spares. Everyone piled out and the porters set about putting on the spare. It was only a stroke of luck that the bottle jack snapped in half after the spare was already on.

After an eternity we came to the tar road, turned right and headed for Vic Falls. We arrived home two hours later than planned. Zachary had just awakened and was lying in Anna’s arms screaming, “They’re never coming back!” it was heart wrenching. Carrie got him calmed and we all settled in for a relaxing night at home.

It was a stupendous trip; one that both of us desperately needed. We came back relaxed and invigorated. We need to do that more often. I am now sufficiently tired of traveling and ready to head back home.
MJR

In the Shit

December 28, 2006

The day started with Hershey squirts.

When we booked our trip to Zimbabwe, we went through a booking agent called Afrizim – The Flame of Africa. They took our money for accommodations and activities, including three multi-day rafting trips.

We arrived in Victoria Falls and were directed to redeem our activities at a company called Shearwater Expeditions (a huge American company in the middle of abject poverty…but I digress). Shearwater informed us that in fact there were no multi-day trips happening, but they would be happy to hook us up with other activities. Carrie and I didn’t want other activities so we hit the pavement searching for someone to take us down the river for a three day trip.

As a Christmas present Anna had told us that she would take care of Zachary for the time that we were on the river. It was a marvelous offer and one we couldn’t pass up. Not to mention the fact that a trip down the Zambezi is the primary reason for coming to Vic Falls at all. There was no way in hell I was going to leave here without doing an extended trip on one of the hairiest rivers in the world!

We finally found a company that would accommodate us. They agreed to take the two of us down the river for a two and a half day trip. I was skeptical, but after interrogating the man in the office (Jackson), I decided that it might work out. He assured me that our boat would have a stern frame and two extra guides to paddle along to assure that we had enough power to brave the rapids. He also told me there would be an oar boat and a safety kayak along with us. After wasting one full day of our holiday, I agreed to let Frontier Adrenalin take us down the river.

They arrived at our lodge on the morning of December 26th in a tiny little Toyota pickup rigged up with an expedition cage on the back. We piled in with the gear and headed off to the office. There we met: Quiet, our guide; Steve, the safety kayaker; and David, the videographer. There was no oar rig and there would be no one else in our sixteen foot boat with us. Quiet would have a stern frame, but there would only be us in the boat.
As I pondered this thought, I grew increasingly nervous. I had heard about the Zambezi and it didn’t seem like two paddlers and a stern frame in a sixteen foot boat was a prudent way to attempt such a trip. I’m not sure whether that’s why I got the runs or maybe it was just the chicken I had for dinner the night before; either way, there it was. I was just standing there talking to Steve, learning about the trip when I felt a little gas. The next thing I knew there was a warm liquid running down my leg. Maybe it was an omen, but I chose to ignore it. I excused myself to the restroom and cleaned myself up as best I could with no TP. Then I marched back out and headed off for our trip.

We hiked down this crazy steep staircase to the bottom of the gorge. Once there we scrambled along the rocks and under the bridge. We watched one intrepid soul bungee jumping. I had actually considered participating in that particular activity. When I discovered that the jumpers were drawn back up to the bridge by a team of ten guys pulling on a rope, I decided that perhaps I would forgo that experience. We piled into our sixteen foot boat and practiced paddling by moving upstream to the base of the falls themselves. We bathed in the mist and marveled at the chasm we were floating in. Words cannot adequately express my awe at that moment.

As it turned out the rapids were actually bigger than I had pictured originally. Not only that, but there are no foot straps in the boat and only a chicken line to hang onto. In the middle of the first rapid, as I watched the cockroaches abandon ship, I realized that I haven’t really paddled a boat in quite some time. It is really amazing what a little fear can do for your body. By the third rapid I had been sufficiently thrown around the bow of the boat to realize that we were truly fucked…and only two more days to go.

Okay, maybe I overreacted a little. I was the only one to get thrown out of the boat and that was only one time. We greased everything else. Our camp the first night was reached with virtually no problem. It was a beautiful spot, even if we did have to wait nearly two hours for dry clothes and cold beer. We were alive and that’s all that mattered. So my day started in shit and ended in white sand; well worth the price of admission…


MJR

Flying High

December 22, 2006

We got to ride on a helicopter!
We arrived here on the 20th and were immediately whisked away on a sunset cruise. The following morning we moved rather slowly, getting ready to go downtown and take care of some business, when a car showed up. The gentleman said he was here to take us on our helicopter ride. I grabbed my camera and ushered Zachary into the van.

Carrie and Anna followed us to the launch pad. We checked in, watched a video of someone else’s flight and then walked out to the helipad. We sat in the back; Zachary in the middle and me by the window. We went up and up and headed out over the river. Having never before ridden in a chopper, I was thrilled. I believe Z was also excited as he wouldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. It was difficult for him to see the view, but I don’t think he really minded, because he was in a helicopter!

We circled around over the falls for about fifteen minutes and then made our way back to the starting point and landed. It was wonderful; a thrill for dad and son. We celebrated the event the rest of the day and well into today. Woohoo!





MJR

The Potholes of Botswana

December 21, 2006

Such a lot has happened in the last five days.

We picked up our rental car on the 16th. It was supposed to be a mini van or SUV, but it turned out to be a little sports sedan. It’s a fun little car to drive, but probably not the best choice for driving through Botswana and Zimbabwe.
Our first day’s drive found us in Gaborone; the capital of Botswana and the home of the Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency. We stayed in a nice hotel right off of Tlokweng Road. The next morning we drove around the city a bit and then headed off for Francistown. It was an uneventful drive full of trucks and jalopies on a beautiful two lane tar road.

We stayed the nights of the 17th and 18th at our friend Stan’s house. Stan used to be the mine manager at Sadiola. Now he works at a mine outside of Francistown. We were very comfortable in his spacious accommodations. He fed us pork roast and fresh veggies the first night and took us out to a steak house the second night. We did some shopping and toodled around town a bit, but mostly we watched TV and lounged by the pool.

We set off on the 19th for Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. We knew it would be a long day as we had 600 km (~350 miles) to cover and a border to cross. The drive started out great. As we meandered north, traffic got less and less until there was virtually no one on the road at all. We left Nata and headed off on an isolated 200 km stretch towards Pandamatenga where we thought we might cross over to Zim. It quickly became apparent that that stretch of roadway had not been maintained as well as the rest; there were potholes everywhere. After 90 km, we blew a tire. Fortunately it was the rear one, but the front tire on that side also suffered some damage. We installed the tiny little spare and limped off towards Pandamatenga.
The “town” of Pandamatenga is really nothing more than a gas station, a bar, and an auto repair shop. Needless to say they did not have the tires we needed. We stopped a police officer and solicited his help. He took us to a lodge where there might be the tires we need, but the fellow sent us back to the gas station. The fellow there happened to have a used tire that fit our vehicle. He loaned it to us on the provision that we give it back on our return through town. The auto shop mounted it on the rim of the blown out tire, the damaged front tire was removed and placed in the trunk, and the spare was kept on the back. We learned that there was a tire shop in Kasane (100 km) that could probably help us out.

By this time it was 4:00. The border crossing at Kasane closes at six and everyone; and I mean everyone has told us not to drive that stretch of road at night because of animals. Not cows, donkeys, and goats, but buffalo, giraffe, and elephant (can you imagine hitting an elephant?). We debated whether or not we should give it a go, but finally decided to stay put for the night. It’s good we did as our spare was flat by bedtime! I had it repaired the next morning and we embarked on another slow journey to Kasane.
Tires were ordered (they arrive today) and we headed for the border. It took a while to get through and it was sort of expensive, but eventually we broke free of the gates to have a beautiful drive down a wandering two lane road. We had to stop once to allow a family of Giraffes to cross, but we arrived in Vic Falls unscathed. We rolled into our lodge to learn that the bus was waiting to take us on our sunset cruise on the river. We dropped our bags and jetted off for a wonderfully relaxing evening.
We returned to our lodge to fix dinner and discuss some pressing issues. The quaint cottage with exclusive pool we paid for is actually half of a house with a shared pool. There are others staying here; in fact there is a strange man asleep on the couch in the lounge right now. To compound matters, we discovered last night that the two and a half day rafting trips we’ve already paid for aren’t guaranteed and in fact currently they aren’t happening at all. For me, all else is secondary to the rafting; it’s the main reason I’m here. If I am not able to get on a boat and spend several days on the Zambezi, I am going to be really upset.

In the meantime we shall explore the area, get some new tires, check out the Falls, and try to relax…
MJR

Sandy Bottoms

December 16, 2006

We flew out of Mozambique yesterday. It was easier leaving than entering.

We had a really good time. We made friends with a few of the folks staying there. One oke even let us ride his Sea-Doo; it was a blast. You can really get some good air off the ocean waves! By the time we took our last swim yesterday morning, however, I realized I was ready to go. I am sunburned and itchy and still cleaning sand out of places it shouldn’t be.

Our restaurant bill was the equivalent of one night’s stay. When the owner of the resort took us to the airport, Carrie listed off a litany of complaints and then informed him that we would not be paying that bill; he would comp us for those things. He was pissed!

Our last two mornings there we were awakened before 6:00 by the outboard motor on the resorts boat. They fired it up to work on it, but it sits right next to our bedroom. There were several other mornings as well where we were jarred awake by noises generated by the resort itself. Furthermore, our self catering lodge did not provide sugar, salt, pepper, soap, or dish towels and they still charged us $130 a night! The staff was great and so was the beach, but the “resort” pretty much sucked.

Now we are back in Jo’burg. We are staying at a lovely little guest house near the airport. This morning I will journey back to the airport to pick up our rental car so that we can begin the next phase of our adventure. Tonight we should be in Gaborone, Botswana. It will be very cool.

I must say one of the things I appreciate more is the idea of traveling state to state as opposed to country to country. Mozambique is only a one hour flight from Jo’burg, but there are visas to be bought, airport taxes to be paid, passports to check, immigration stamps to get, and customs officials to talk to. This makes the trip that much longer and that much more of a hassle. It almost makes me miss JFK and O’Hare.
MJR

Curse of the Chickens

December 11, 2006

It’s raining. We are still in Mozambique. The rain is cool and refreshing, a nice respite from the heat of the sun.

We are all sunburned and sandy, enjoying the beach and all that it has to offer. While the mosquitoes are bad, the chicken pox is worse.

One of the reasons we chose to stay at Willy’s Chateau is that he has a six year old daughter who gets on well with Zachary. She is in school now. She finished up for the holidays the day we arrived. Her mom told us at that time that she had just finished a bout with the chicken pox. Apparently her entire class had it at one point or another.

We said, no big deal, Z man has been vaccinated against that. She informed us that Claudia had also, but she still suffered from it, although not as badly as those who had not been vaccinated.

At first we thought it was bug bites that appeared overnight all over his face. We were a little alarmed when more appeared the next morning on his ears, elbows, and ankles. We were even more distressed when we picked him up and discovered that he was on fire! Our first thought was Malaria as this is a heavy Malaria region. We decided to wait it out and see what happened. This morning he awoke with less red spots and a lower fever. Hopefully the worst is over.


We took a nice walk up the beach yesterday. Apparently ours is the cheapest hotel on the stretch. Our cabin is situated so that we are privy to all traffic coming and going. There are many South Africans showing up every day. They come complete with motor boats, sea doos, and ATV’s. They park their extra rigs right outside our place and fire up their toys at all hours of the day and night. Today we finally managed to convince the owner that we should be moved to a different unit. It will be a little better.


I see a lot of Kansas farm boys here. Baseball caps, cutoffs, and red necks. They play their music loud, stick to themselves, and ignore the fact that there are others around. They are friendly enough until they discover that we don’t speak Afrikaans and then they don’t have much to say. It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to put up with their music and motor toys.

Oh well, we’re in Mozambique, on one of the most beautiful beaches I have seen. I need to focus on the positive.
MJR

Mozambique

December 8, 2006

Ah Mozambique at last! It was a bit of a pain in the ass to get here, but how beautiful it is.

The charter leaving Sadiola was late arriving. That’s okay because we had plenty of time until our Air Kenya flight to Jo’burg. We hung out in our living room and watched TV and such. When we finally went to the airport we discovered that Zachary wasn’t on the passenger list. We had to do some wrangling, but eventually they let him on.

Off to Bamako, Nairobi, and Johannesburg. We zipped through customs and were met by Willy, our host. We stayed at Willy’s Chateau, a place we stayed the last time we were there. It didn’t take long for us to remember how much we dislike Willy. The guy is negative about everything; no matter what choices we made, he pooh-poohed them; a comfortable place, but a very unpleasant man.

Our flight to Maputo was uneventful; an hour long with a meal. The Maputo airport is smallish, but pleasant. We lined up for immigration. After about thirty minutes we got to the front of the line to discover that we should have bypassed that line and headed off to a different place to buy our visas. We turned over our passports and $25 each and were told to find our bags. We watched all the bags go by, but ours were nowhere in sight. I finally asked and was told that they were in Lost and Found. Bags found, all we had to do was wait for our visas. At this point we have fifty minutes until our next flight. Fifteen minutes later we had Zachary’s visa and my visa, but the ladies were still waiting. We went on ahead so we could hold the plane if necessary. Z and I checked in and told the woman that two more were coming. She told us to go pay airport taxes. Finally, Carrie and Anna showed up; we had thirty minutes left till flight time. We marched up to the counter and were told that there was one seat left; someone would have to stay behind. We hemmed and hawed and complained loudly until a gentleman secured one more seat for us…in the cockpit. Anna and I threw odds and evens; she won.

The plane was a twenty-five seat dual prop job, complete with flight attendant and snacks. We landed an hour later in Inhambane, a small coastal village. Now we are at the Palm Grove Lodge. Our “self-catering cabin” is a palm thatched hut with two bedrooms and a three burner camp stove; quaint, but comfortable. We are steps away from the bar/restaurant and steps beyond that is the beach. The water is emerald green, the sand is white and clean, and we can get the sense that we are the only ones here. The water is like bath water; it is magnificent! I am here with two lovely ladies and nothing to do but swim, relax, drink, and get sunburned…life is good.


MJR

Catching Up

November 19, 2006

Ah life on the mine. November has been an interesting month. We had a visit from our boss, James, last week. Of course he didn’t actually tell us he was coming; we had to find out from someone else altogether. The flight schedule now prevents him from coming and going on the same day, so he had to stay three.

Last week was also the week report cards came out, as well as the week that two of my students left. I had two conferences, my ESL class, and after school activities. On top of that, the boss decided to observe us. That required two separate meetings and then he wanted another general staff meeting too.

I told him I thought it was a bit ridiculous for him to observe me. Not only is this the first observation in two years, but he gave us no guidelines or criteria to follow. I still have no idea what his expectations are. And he still has no idea what I do in my classroom.

The best part of the story came at the end. My kids have been working on a newspaper. It’s part of their writing work. On Friday we had scheduled an appointment with Terry, the acting GM, to conduct an interview regarding some break ins that have been happening. Well, James decided he wanted to have a meeting too so he rode with us to the office. Our appointment was for 2:15. James plane was scheduled out at 3:30. Terry was late for the meeting and didn’t show up until almost 2:45. Regardless, he invited me and my students in, ordered a round of Cokes and proceeded to be interviewed while James waited outside. By the time we were done, there was little time left for the boss.

He is gone and now life is back to normal. We had a few friends over last night for chili and homemade tortillas. Today we went to the club for a craft fair and lunch. We were all thoroughly exhausted by the time we got home. Now here we are. We have two more weeks of school before we go out on break. I am psyched to raft the Zambezi and maybe ride in a helicopter. I am also excited about the prospect of hanging on a beach for a week. It should be a good break, but first we have to make it through the next two weeks.
MJR