Wake up Call

Todays blog is short and sweet.

I forgot to mention that while staying with Joshua we were awakened in the middle of the night by the Muslim church leader (pastor? preist?) who began screaming a sermon into a bullhorn. He would shout and sing songs into the ampliphier. It was too absurd to get on my nervs. It was 5 am on the dot, at least an hour before the sun came up. It was pitch black outside and this guy was just going on. Do people not thnk this is strange? Is this really allowed? Not everyone here is muslim, why don't people protest this? So many times we have experienced moments like this where you think, "what the ? are these people doing?" That is Africa.

I saw my first Masaai people. I am already convinced that they will be one of the highlights of this trip. The Maasai are a people that have preserved thir culture, continually refusing to give up their traditional lives. They stick out because of their size, they are all VERY tall (as tall as me in some cases, and sometimes taller) and extremely thin. East Africans in general are tall and thin but the maasai are even aller and thinner. They also wear red blanket type garments that they wrap around their body. They do strange things with their hair and wear strange jewelry, sometimes stretching their ears. The men often carry weapons, like clubs or spears. It is srtange to see a maasai walking in a market carrying a club. Even though there is no need for a club, they still carry it. I really can't wait to get to learn about the maasai. I even think that my story will center around the maasai in an important way.

Joshua was such a fantastic host and I am so excited that he will be going to Fort Lewis college next year. I look forward to visiting him and following his time in the US. He has such a good heart and is such a firework of energy. I can't wait to post the photos of him, you ill be able to tell how enthusiastic he is all the time. Be Free!!!! He was anxious to show us his family and after meeting his mom and I know where he gets his enthusiasm. She met us with joy and started jumping up and down, just out of pure joy of getting to meet us. It was wild.

Nathan and I took a ferry to Zanzibar, a small island off of the cast which is full of tourists. I got sick on the ferry and for a while thought I migh hurl. The island is another little paradise and tomorrow Nathan and I will rent scooters and cruise the island. So far it is a fun place but again, it is less Africa and more tourist trap. After this weekend, we will be on our final leg of the rtip. A trek through Arusha (maasai land and Mt. Kilimanjaro) and then begin our adventure for lake turkana, the highlight of the trip. In the meantime, it is sun and clear ocean, monkeys and a full moon party tomorrow night where traditional food and music will be the entertainment (and proabbly a lot of drunk tourists).

Footnote: I bought a shirt that says Mzungu (white person) on the front.

Be Free

In the olden days, when a white person remained in a British commonwealth country for longer than 4 or 5 years without visiting England, they were at risk of "going African." It was like by being in Africa for too long without returning to Europe for some frame of mind, you would become distorted and you would become Africa.

Now it is official. I have gone African.

No disrespect to the people of these beautiful countries, but I have become completely accustom to the idiosyncrosies of African culture. When a bus begins to drive off with me hanging out the side, I don't flinch. When I haven't showered for days, (and I do mean about 6 days) I dont notice. When I wear the same outfit for over a week (and I do mean, mroe than a week) it is hakuna matata. "I've gone to the motherland, and I'm coming back a brothaman." 

We arrived in Dar Es Salaam after a 26 hour train ride that took us through some beautiful Tanzanian countryside. Including, a wild game parkwhere from our window we could see giraffs, warthogs, and wildabeast. It was very cool. We met a guy named Chris who has begun an NGO in Malawi, right where we were jsut staying. The sad thing is, this guy's programm is inthe travel book that we use. You can volunteer fora day or twowith this NGO and learn a lot about Malawi. I already mentioned that Nathan and I didn'tlearn anything about Malawi but that it was a "break from our travels." The sad thing is,this Mayoka village was so much fun, it was too efficient. It has such a monoploy on the tourism in Nkhata bay that great programmslike Chris's hardly stand a chance. (That is an exageration, I ams ure Chris willbe very successful,but I continue).

In Dar es Salaam we met Joshua. Joshua and I met online... that sounded awful. I eailed Joshua a few months back and asked for some traveladvice in tanzania. He immediately began working on accomodation for us. He assured me that we would be staying with him and visitinghis church and pastor. After waiting in line for an hour after gettingoff the train (look foran upcoming blog about the innefficiencies of business here) Joshua greeted us and quickly told us "Be Free!."

Joshua has such an animated face. He cracks me up in theway he talks andhis blithe spirit. I am so glad to have met him. Be Free! Make yourself at home.

He introduced us to his pastor and other members of the church. He has such a golden heart. Today he has takenus on a tour of the city. I am completely free! Dar es Salaam would not be nearly as interesting without him!

Thanks for the comments from my friends. Dave, you message was hilarious in every way.

The toilets here are just a hole in the ground. It takes a yoga master to use it. I am learning.

Reflection

The last several posts have been very sloppy and not at all the way that I wanted this blog to go. I apologize but in my defense, internet is very slow, expensive and difficult to find. On top of that, I must find time out of a very busy travel schedule to write down thoughts, or in most cases, events that have occured on the trip. But now that I have a bit of time and a fast and cheap internet connection, I want to offer a bit of reflection.

Last night I couldn't sleep because of this knot in my stomache. I am not sure if it was because of homesickness, or missing Sheila, but my mind was racing at a rigorous speed, too fast to let me fall asleep. From the start, I wanted this trip to change me, to ignite some sort of motivation or call to action that would give me the drive to acheive something great. Both in screenwriting and more importantly, to somehow improve the lives of the people of Africa.

Going through 7 countries in 7 weeks is not the most efficient way to learn about the challenges and histories of these countries. Nonetheless, I feel that I have gained a lot. Most of my thoughts have been very discouraging. In the last 7 weeks we have run into countless people that have explained to us the hardships of their daily lives. Mind you that many of these people are very happy, very grateful and I don't want to make it seem like I pity them in any way. But there are so many stories of injustices and hardships, racism and poverty, disease and sickness.

The light that I hoped would be ignited in me, has thus far, just been a knot in my stomache. The problems are so big, they go back hundreds of years, and there is so much ambiguity surrounding what can and should be done. Spurring these mixed feeling and adding to the confusion is the biography on Che that I have been reading on this trip. Che was so motivated to begin revolution in the 3rd world countries. He sacrificed his life for the people of the Congo but ultimately was useless to them. In a way, I wish that I had this conviction, as Che did, to fight for something that I believed in. But I do not.

Last night a 31 year old man named Josefat escorted us from the bus dropoff to our hostel. For no reason at all he walked about 1 k out of his way to make sure that we were safe. He explained that life in Tanzania is very difficult. When asked if life is good he says "50-50." His tone tells you that he is being generous in that estimation. He has no job. His wife and kid have left him because he cannot support them. It reminds me of Donovan, the Tanzanian that we met in South Africa who left his home "in search of a better life," clinging to a porous suit jacket and a small bag.

With everything that I have I wanted to be able to offer Josefat some sort of advice. I wanted to give him something that would help him in some small way. I wish that I had some sort of answer about how he could take control of his life. But I have nothing to offer. No insight. No advice. Most of the walk home is done in silence. It is a very uncomfortable feeling. Josefat has an education, speaks english, but there are so few jobs and such a poor economy.

In between the great adventures, laughs, beers, pictures, and good times, there is this constant nagging feeling, this knot in my stomache that has not yet manifested itself yet as a real motivation or conviction. NGO's in Africa are often corrupt or strongly go against my values and beliefs, and in the end, usually don't do anything positive. Education programms teach a very "western" curriculum, missionaries spread the gospel, choking the people of their own heritage, and money pumped in only builds a dependancy on foreign aid.

An English man explains to me how the NGO he works for built an internet cafe to help "introduce" the Tanzanian people to the web but the price is so high that only the white NGO workers are able to use it. Thousands of dollars went into buying computers and building this cafe and it is used by foreigners only.

The best that I can say for myself is that this trip has made me grow up a lot. I have become very motivated to educate myself, to prepare myself for the situations that I will come across in the future. I feel very unprepared for this trip. I want to be able to offer Josefat some small token of advice. One thing that I have found to be true is that culture plays such a huge role in the way a society views the world. Out here, religion and witchcraft help shape some rather strange views on how the world works, a history of corruption and poverty have demolished the people's hope for any sort of progress. People live day to day because it is all that they know.

Example: Another NGO worker tells me the story of how the NGO gave a group of rural Tanzanians some seeds for planting hoping to help start them on a course of profitable farming but instead the Tanzanians just ate the seeds.

In America, consumerism drives the people. One of the best things about being out here, thousands of kilometers from the US is that I can clear my head of all of the distractions. The idiot box, the advertisments, the pop culture, the traffic, all of those things, those cultural demons that distort your mindframe and distract you from self reflextion. I have gained the focus to improve myself and the motivation to at least prepare myself for the future. So that when this knot in my stomache grows, I will be able to act. Not with the sloppyness of these well wishers and corrupt NGO's that offer good intentions at best, but with a real, useful, meaningful effort.

Hello Goodbye

There isn't enough time to tell you all about Malawi but just know that it was a beautiful, peaceful little paradise. It was a break from Africa in a way. I say that with an ironic tone because Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the world and my experience in the country, sadly, was a week of relaxing by an amazing lake with a bunch of Europeans. But I forgive myself because it was only 4 or 5 days and it was right in the middle of the trip, sort of a breather week.

Sidenote: People, especially Europeans, really dislike the US. I have run into this a lot on this trip and it is really a shame. People that know me know that I disagree with the US foriegn policy a lot but to travel and have to see how much people disagree and generally dislike our country is really tough.

However, we met a lot of interesting people, all Europeans that were staying at this little hostel. We talked a lot about African politics and it was very interesting. The hostel itself was strange in that all of the white tourists were staying at this one hostel, even though there were plenty others. One reason for this (and be careful not misinterpret this) is that it is run by a white man that has trained his staff to serve in a very western way. Because of this the hostel is a huge draw. It is a perfect place to come to a lake and relax. At most hostels that are run by locals the service sucks, they act like you are in the way and they treat you very coldly. While this hsotel had many locals running the show, they all were obviously very well trained in western hospitality, meaning they knew how to entertain and communicate in a way that made you feel comfortable. It is a bit of a shame that this hostel has such a monopoly on the tourism in this area. But it is something that I have been thinking about a lot on this trip. One white guy runs a bar/hostel in Nkhata bay and does 50 times the business that every other place does. On top of that, it was filled with white europeans. I might as well ahve been in Germany, or London, or any other place and not Africa.

Nathan and I spent an entire day traveling from Nkhata bay to Mbeya tanzania. We took 5 or 6 of the worst busses to get here. 18 people, 2 chickens and 5 bundles of sticks (are there not sticks where you are going?) crammend into a tiny minibus. Once we crossed the border the busses got worse. I climbed in thinking I was the last one on. The bus was overflowing. Then about 5 people ran and jumped on, holding on to the side while the sliding door stayed open and the bus cruised off at about 100 kph. People literally hung out the open door holding on to a wobbily rail while we cruised down the interstate, hitting giant potholes and dodging semi's. It is nuts riding the transport out here. I am not afraid of anything in these countries except for transport and sickness. I feel lucky that I have not had too horrible of experiences with either.

One thing I am not sure if I mentioned last but is something that will stick with me for the rest of my life. While we were on a long hike last week we came across a group of women and as soon as they saw us they all ran away in terror. It was so strange. They thought that us white guys were going to hurt them or take them away and so they literally ran away from us, carrying their things with them.

We are taking a train across some of the most beautiful landscape in Africa tomorrow, we are told that we will see wildlife out the window, and most importantly, the great rift valley which is home to some of the most important deposits of human evolution fossils!

Lake Of Stars

Nathan and I are in Malawi. For those of you that are wondering, Malawi is a country in Africa, not a hawaiin island. It is funny (and sad) that people from America are terrible with geography. Every European, and most africans, know every major city in the US. including Denver, Seatle, etc. It is crazy, especially since |I can barely locate most European countries. And again, I'm off topic in the first paragraph.

Nathana nd I arrived in Malawi and spent two days in Lilongwe. We had a great host in Frauke but the city itself was a bit of a dive. Nothing special about it. We went to a nature reserve that was in the middle of the city ( a very poorly planned city) and were asked if we wanted a guide. We asked if it is recommended and they said yes. So Patrick, our guide, came over to us and loaded his M16. It was strange going into a nature reserve in the middle of a city and needing a guide with a fully automatic rifle.

There are supossed to be a lot of crocs but we didn't see anything. At the end of our nature walk we went by some animals that the reserve keeps in cages. One python. There used to be two but apparently one escaped and is now somewhere in the reserve. One Hyena. There used to be two but the wild hyenas broke into the cage one night and ate the caged one. And a leopard. There was always only one leopard but he growled at us and it was very cool. But it is a rush going to a zoo where 40% of the animals have escaped. There was a group of school children there and as soon as Nathan and I walked up the kids started staring at us. We were more interesting than the hyena! Mzungus are interesting to the people out here, it is crazy.

After lilongwe we went to lake malawi, the main draw for tourism. lake \Malawi is the 9th l;argest lake in the world and home to tons of unique fish. We stayed at a place called Cool Runnings and while the hostel was a dive, Lake Malawi is a little peice of paradise. The lake is warm, beautiful and a lot of fun. We agreed to go on a boat tour with these "beach boys", young guys that hassle you trying to sell stuff, and for 30 bucks (15 a peice) we got food, snorkeling, and a wicked boat ride to an island. When they told us that we would take a boat, we assumed it would be a regular, safe boat. But the boat we took was basically a 50 year old peice of wood. It took 5 guys just to get the thing going. One guy spent the entire ride emptying water from the hull. It was an adrenaline rush. The lake has some massive waves and we felt like we were going to tip the entire ride. It was fun in a scary way.

We also met a rasta names Blackseed and played some pool and hung out with him for the two days in Senga bay. He was a cool dude and cooked us a barbque one of the nights. It was so great!

wE SPENT AN ENTIRE DAY TRAVELING NORTH TO A hip spot on the lake called Nikhata bay. There is a rasta colony here but it is also the biggest spot for tourists. We arrived late at night at the hostel called Miyoka village. It is quite possibly the greatest, most perfectly run place of all time. The staff is super friendly and somehow thye know every single guests name. People come here to relax by day and party by night so the staff knows how to entertain. Last night we drank for 6 hours and only spent about 15 dollars. Incredible!

I DJ'd for most of the night, hooking my Ipod up to the stereo and playing some cat stevens and some classic american rock n roll. Sidenote: nobody here has heard of Dave Matthews. Not even the Europeans. That blew my mind. The hostel ran a pool tourney and everyone was in. I dont have time to explain the whole night but this hostel knows how to accommodate. Everyone had a great time.

And the lake is just beautiful. Photos will show you. It is a dense forest around the bay and the water is perfectly blue. The highlight with the lake was swimming with these local boys that swear that they can catch fish with their bare hands. It is awesome watching how good these little kdis are at swimming and diving. They dont need equipment, they jsut dive down, 10 feet, eyes iopen, and catchfish.

I am sure that I am missing a lot of stories but that is the problem with having just a little bit of time. We are leaving for Dar es Salaam, tanzania very soon and there I hope to catch up on stories, as well as start writing my script a lot more than I have. :)

It's ova, ova (don't forget me)

Topsy is the man.

Every week nathan and I decide on a new "best part" of the trip. Which is a great thing. It started out great and has gotten better since. This is due mostly to the people that we have met along the way. Two posts ago I mentioned Patrick in Zimbabwe. Last post I mentioned Topsy. But those are only the big highlights among many smaller highlights of gret people.

We spent 5 days in Zambia in total, much too few if you ask me. We arrived with the plan to stay for only 2 nights but changed our plans once we got here and met all of these wonderful people. Zambians are the friendliest in the world. Someone called lusaka a big city with a small town feel. I think that is about right. Everyone talks to passerby's, even in crowded city streets. By the last days, we would hear quite frequently someone shouting across the road, "Hey Nathan and Adam!" And then giving us the thumbs up. This is partly due to our celebrity status as Mzungus in an all black city, but also due to the fact that Zmbians are just plain happy, friendly people.

On our second night in Lusaka we met sydney and his wife martha (I think) whon invited us for dinner. Sydney (as well as Topsy) is an artist, a writer and actor to be exact, and was anxious to talk about screen3writing. I offered him a few helpful tips for outlining a story. He listened very carefully, as did Topsy, and I could tell that they were taking some serious notes. Both Topsy and Sydney are very active in their hobbies. I think that they will be very successful in their craft sometime very soon.

They served us a traditional dinner that was much like the night before only instead of fish we had beef. unlike the fish, I couldn't even try the beef. It had a smell that I would like to forget. I hope they didn't take offense.

In Zambia it is the custom that women greet men by getting on their knees and offering their handshake. It is also not allowed (or at least not proper) for women to be in the sme room as the men while eating. So in the cold night (actually it was about 60 but to them that is near freezing) Martha ate outside while we sat and talked about film, writing and politics.

The ngiht was great and finished with us discussing the mindframe of Zambians. It was an excellent discussion, one that shed a lot of light on some interesting things for me. Mostly, the Zambian, and for the most part the sub saharan African, does not have any faith in government or even progress. Politicians are all the same. They promise change, and promise improvement but as soon as they gain power they steal money for themselves and ignore their people. No one is immune to this corruption. it is Impossible to imagine a leader that could govern Zambia without becoming corrupt. In this sense, there is no use in even hoping for anything better. Africa will always be Africa.

I mention that the people do not feel a strong urge to rebel against the government when it is corrupt or to try to form any type of revolution. "But why would we? After a revolution, someone new would just take power and they would become corrupt." It is a fair insight, given the amount of leaders to come through and create empty promises.

After the fourth day with topsy, and fifth in Zambia, we boarded a bus for the Zambian/Malawian border. Topsy escorted us via minibus and dropped us off. It was a sad farewell. I really hope I see him again.

After a fairly uneventful bus ride (every busride is eventful in Africa but this one doesn't have a worthwile story) we arrived in Chipata and went straight to the bar to watch the soccer match, Chad v Zambia. We ended up meeting 3 brothers that were one of the joys of this trip. 3 little guys, two of them no heavier than 120 lbs. They were a riot! As friendly as can be. And funnier than that. We hung out with them for hours just having beer and eating bar b que lamb sausage and t-bone. It was so much fun!

In Zambia, the popular song right now is called "It's over." I am told it is about a guys fiancee dying but the song is a very happy. Ironic? or strange? I'm not sure which. I can't really understand the words but it has a nice beat and you can dance to it. Which is exactly what Zambians do, over and over and over again. In 4 hours, we probably heard that song 500 times. The younger brother, probably the funniest, served the rest of us non stop. He was the one that ran to get the beers, the food, got chairs, did everything. And with a smile. These guys were so cool.

"It's a pity that you guys are leaving so soon. I would love to take you to our ranch, show you our river, take you fishing. It would have been so much fun." These guys were awesome. They even walked us home. At 230 lbs, 4 beers hardly dents me. But these guys were sauced. Doing jumping jacks in the street and singing Zambian songs. "Zambia, the real Africa! Beautiful zambia, the real Africa!" Then, to top off our week in this great country, the youngest one drunkenly turns to me before we part and says, "Don't forget about us." With all seriousness. It was almost sad. Of course I wont. If I were a better writer you could all know how friendly these people are and how much i will remember every second of my trip here.

Endnotes: We missed Luangwa and Vic Falls (the tourist spots) and still I can crown Zambia as my favorite place!

The bus to Chipata was over booked by about 5 people. Of course, the extra people sat right next to me. The sign "Be careful when opening the over head bin, items might shift during the flight" is funny to me now, since there is no door to the overhead bin in these busses which means in a 8 hour flight, bags fall on my head every 10 minutes.

The Malawi border took us about 1 minute and 30 seconds to cross, making it 320 times more efficient than the Zimbabwean border.

We are now in malawi. A tiny country beside a supposedly beautiful lake. Wish us luck. I got the news about the spurs. Glad I am not in the states.

American, Like Jean Claude Van Damme

Lonely Planet (the travel guide) writes that you should not be surprised if a local Zambian invites you over for dinner or if complete strangers go out of their way to welcome you.

We arrived in Lusaka after a hellish time in Zimbabwe hoping to find just that hospitality. To celebrate Nathan's belated birthday, we walked around for 2 hours trying to find a restauraunt that served some nice food and a tall glass of beer. After two hours we found nothing except for a place call "L.A. Takeaways." This place served burgers and fries, pizzas, and a beef stick. Since it had been enarly 24 hours since our previous meal (which was a bread roll with peanut butter), we gave in and had dinner at L.A. takeaways. Nathan had the beef stick. (Air Force guys, feel free to make jokes). It wasn't the nicest birthday dinner he had ever had but it was fine enough. We went to the hostel, blogged, and then had a few beers at the local bar while talking with a rather interesting guy (half Malawian half British) and a beautiful model (Zambian). It was a great night that ended at about 9 PM.

The next morning I phoned a guy named Topsy who i had met through couchsurfing. He agreed to host us for a few nights and also escort us around town. So far, it has been the most unique experience of the trip.

First off, Topsy took us to the markets, a place that wasn't even on the tourist map that the hostel gave us. The markets are divided into a first class, 2nd class and third class market, all side by side. In the markets people trade and do business, everything from tomatoes and maize to blacksmiths, beer, etc. For the next 20 hours, we would not see another white person. What's more, people were excited to see us and would give us the thumbs up. some came to shake our hand and some asked for us to take photos of them. Zambia is ngiht and day compared to South Africa. People here are more friendly than anywhere I have ever seen. If a 20 year old man says how are you to me and I respond, he is excited by it. So I have waved and said hello to about 5,000,000 people in the last day.

Topsy is a local actor and participates in a TV program here in Lusaka that is like a roundtable discussion/debate about local issues. Because of this, he has earned a sort of mini-celebrity and people will come to him and say hello. So between the three of us, we NEVER go unnoticed. One of the many highlights from the markets was going to a local recording studio and playing guitar with a local musician.

After the markets, Topsy phoned a few friends that run a minibus who would take us to Topsy's home for the night. In South Africa, you NEVER take a minibus after dark and never go in an empty minibus. So i was a bit, just a little bit, nervous when I saw this minibus roll up empty. but they were friends of Topsy and so we loaded our packs in.

We left Lusaka and entered the neighborhood. Pictures will only do it justice but lets just say this. Topsy said that the only time white people come here are when government officials escort them to do census type stuff. We arrived at his house and the drivers refused payment from us. Then we went out and explored the neighborhood. The housing in Africa is much different, of course, than the US. Some homes do not have electricity, some do not have windows, some do not have roofs. All are built side by side, no roads, and people do business from the crowded streets. A barber shop, one where nathan got a haircut today, is a closet sized room, right beside a closet sized store, and a bar.

Mzungu is the African word for White Person and almost all of the kids say it as we pass. Most want to wave. We definately get attention everywhere we go.

The most exciting thing for me is that this is an experience that no one else gets. We aren't staying in the city hotels or hostels, this is the real Africa. The real Lusaka. We played pool with the locals, making fun of us of course and taking pride in beeting a couple of mzungus.

Waliing through the markets you have to breathe lightly because the stench of fish is overwhelming. So when Topsy informed us that his family had prepared dinner for us, I immediately thought, "I hope to God it isn't fish." Sure enough, it was the staple food. Maize meal, veggies, and fish. Traditionally, Zambians eat with their hands. The maize was good, and filling, the veggies were delicious. The fish..... oh the fish. Neither my tounge nor my stomache liked the fish.

This blog could last hours if I were to explain what I have seen in Lusaka. All, or almost all, are great stories. But, this blog is only a sample. But just try to picture me and Nathan in a crowd of 1000 Zambians, walking down a market selling shoes, fish, and everything else, being called mzungus by the kids, waving to the people that can't stop staring, and big goofy smiles on our faces.

Endnote: Thanks again for the messages. However, make sure to sign your name to your comment. I have no idea who some of the people writing me are but I would really like to know. Reading comments makes me very happy! I only read Sheilas emails and my parents so if you comment, make sure you sign your name at the end.

Also, another attempt at uploading photos will take place today. So..... maybe this time?

People keep saying that I look like John Cena. Apparently he is a famous wrestler that wears shorts. Since I am the only person in Zambia that is both white and wearing shorts, I must be John Cena. people yell it out, "Hey, John Cena!" One guy said I am "American like Jean Claude Van Damme." That mmight be the best thing I've ever heard. I've also been called, Mzungu, bush, and long long man.

chicken bus

A chicken bus is what locals call the cheap seat buses because they jam pack people into them like chickens. Our 7 dollar bus ticket from Harare to Lusaka was not quite a chicken bus but it was pretty far from the greyounds that we got used to in South Africa. Let me begin a timeline of our trek, keep in mind that the total distance traveled is about half that from our 15 hour drive from Pretoria to Lusaka.

7:30 PM: Slyvester drops us off at the bus stop after escorting us with the protection of a slingshot. The bus is scheduled to arrive at 8. Nathan and I pop a few sleeping pills to help make the trip seem faster.

8:00 PM: People begin to form a line (a queue, as they say) at the gate. We are about 5th in line. We make friends with a Congolese guy named Moki and a local Zim named Rowan. Both are very nice guys.

8:40 PM: The bus finally arrives. Upon seeing the bus, people rush out of the gate toward the bus door. Why even form a queue? Then it is pure mayhem. Pushing, pulling, pinching, punching. People getting pummeled and trampled. Old ladies getting shoved. Then shoving back. I don't get it. There are just enough seats for everybody right? So what is the big hurry to board? It was literally a dog pile at the tiny door to the bus. We finally get on (almost last) but Rowan has saved seats for the three of us. The seats are tiny. The butt is about 12 inches wide, side by side, 3 on one side, 2 on the other. My butt is about 20 inches wide, which means I will only have one cheek on the seat for the entire ride.

9:30 PM: The bus leaves the gate. An hour and a half behind schedule. The congolese guy next to me has 0% body fat and is used to warm weather so the 80% temp in the bus makes him cold. He closes the window. The body odor in the bus is suffocating, but I haven't showered in 6 days and so I am sure that I am contributing to the stench.

10:00 PM: The sleeping aid is kicking in harccore and I am exhausted. My eyes literally hurt from being tired but I am way too uncomfortable to sleep. Both legs are numb. 11:00 PM: We stop at a "take aways." Take aways are Africa's version of fast food. But it is best compared to 7 Eleven food. I stay on the bus assuming that this is a 10 minute break.

11:45 PM: We depart from the Take Aways.

2:45 AM: We arrive at the Zambian border post. However, the post does not open until 6 am. Now, I am not sure why we didn't just leave Zim a few hours later but Rowan lets me know that we are here for 3 hours. I follow some people out of the bus and we all just lay on the ground, literally at the footstep of the border gate. Honestly, it was the happiest moment of the trip. It was Nathans birthday and I think that he was very bummed out about spending it in a chicken bus. He has certainly worn his feeling son his sleeve the last few days. For me, it is all part of the experience. I actually smile to myself right before falling asleep on the dirt thinking, this is bizarre, but something I will remember.

4:45 AM: I wake up shivering cold. Nathan is beside me sleeping like a baby in his blanket.

6:00 AM: The bus starts up, waking us all up and we get back on the bus.

6:15 AM: We form a queue at the "check out" point. Moki quickly hands me a bag of sugar and says, "here, put this in your bag and say it is yours. I', only allowed to take a few." I didn't want to agree but for some reason, probably sheer tiredness, I did.

8:15 AM: The queue of about 80 people finally makes it past check out. Since check out means a guy just stamps your passport, I have no idea how it could take 2 hours. But before we leave, every bag must be searched, which means for some, unpacking all together. Moki's bags are checked and the guy tells him that he cannot take sugar out of the country. He loses 3 big bags of sugar. Nathan and I aren't checked.

8:30 AM: We cross the Zambezi river and stop at the Zambia border post for check in. We form another queue.

10:00 AM: We finally make it to the customs counter. The guy tells us that it is US 100 dollars for a visa. We tell him that we thought it was only 25 us dollars. he gets angry and says 100! We say that we do not have that much (a lie) but that we were told that a one week visa is 25. He says, in a very angry, evil voice, "then we will send you back!" This is the low point of the trip. Paying this guy 200 US dollars, a price that I am pretty sure is not right. Nathan and I hadn't eaten more than a roll with peanut butter in nearly 24 hours, and no sleep. My back aches, my legs ache and it is starting to get hot again.

10:30 AM: Right before we leave, one of the girls from our bus gets robbed 100 US dollars. She is in tears.

11:30 AM: We get a random inspection by a police officer and we must show our passports. It is the 100th time I have shown my passport in less than 6 hours.

2:00 PM: We arrive at Lusaka.

Now, it is all something that I will remember, but to say that the last week has been fun would be incorrect. They have been rough nights, very little food, no shower, a lot of worrying, and in the end, a relatively expensive week. Nathan especially is upset. I think it is just the feeling of having your birthday and hoping for something nice and getting a chicken bus. So I will be trying to make it up to him in the next days. Not sure how yet, but Lusaka has already been a very friendly town, We will be here for about 4 days. Then.... another chicken bus. This time headed to Malawi. There is a couch surfer there that we will be stying with, hopefully.

Endnotes: I am going to try to play basketball today. I hear there are pickup games at a park nearby.

We will be couchsurfing with a guy named Topsy tonight.

Patrick - Thank you for the emails with links to youtube and other sites. Note that to pull up hotmail.com takes about 5 minutes and that each email I read is about 5 minutes to upload. A youtube video would take about 30 minutes. At nearly 4 dollars per half hour, there is no way I could watch the vids. But I do like getting emails and such. But I am in Africa. Youtube is impossible.

Thank you to everyone that has written me. I miss you all and am excited that it is almost half way!

Into Africa

The last 5 days have been a bit miserable. A lot has happened since my last blog and it will be difficult to catch you up. Let's begin with leaving South Africa.

I found it interesting that the locals, the white ones, refer to other African countries as "Africa," as if South Africa is not quite fully Africa. This is pretty accurate in that there is a very western infrastructure and a heavy non-african influence. But there is still plenty of Africa in South Africa. But I'm already off topic.

Nathan and I spent about 60 US dollars to take a first class bus to Harare, Zimbabwe. It would be night and day from the wealthy, beautiful city of Pretoria, and we were prepared for it, or so we thought. The Greyhound bus arrived a half hour late and was laready full to capacity. Our bags didn't fit into the basement compartment (although the driver tried violently to force them) and so Nathan was forced to carry his bag inside with him and lay it in the already full aisle. The bus driver read my ticket to me, "Seat 9C," as if that mattered. Nathan and I grabbed the only two seats available, and they were only available after moving dozens of bags full of produce, groceries, and consumer products, as well as spare tires out of the way. The exit row was barricaded by piles of baggage. Thsi bus had a much different feel than any other bus that we had taken yet.

Fastforward to the boarder. Nathan and I read in our travel guide that the black market currency rate was "a bit" more favorable than the bank rate but that using the black market was a risk, as it is illegal. So we arrived at the boarder with only our visa chack cards and about 40 US dollars combined. To our surprise, the entry visa for Americans costs 30 per person and there was no exceptions that could be made. Fortunately, Nathan had made friends with a friendly looking Pakistani (no, that is not an oxymoron) and he offered to lend us the extra 20 us dollars assuming we pay him back in Harare.

Sidenote: Also on the bus, I made friends with a man named Patrick. Patrick is the father of 7 and grandfather of many more. He has a farm in Zim and travels to South Africa frequently for work. We sit next to each other and soon enough we are talking theology and exchanging bible stories. I tell him that I am not exactly a christian but he doesn't seem to mind, he just enjoys exchanging our favorite stories from the bible and ideas on theology. He is a very smart man. He also has a voice and presence of James Earl Jones (sandlot, not Vader). Very fatherly and warm.

We arrive in Harare and Nathan runs to an atm and tries to pull out cash but his card is rejected. It wont work. The friendly pakistani doesn't look so rfiendly anymore. To add to the challenge, it is noon on Saturday and the banks and embassy's are closed.

Our only option is Patrick. We have no money on us, no way to get money and we are in a city that we are very unfamiliar with. People keep approaching us offering shady deals, eyeing our bags and noticing our discomfort. Before I can speak Patrick grabs me and introduces me to his wife and his family that has come to greet him at the bus stop. They are a lovely bunch, all seem to have his same warmth. But I cut the party short by telling him that we are in trouble. It was a very strange feeling. The people in Zimbabwe live very difficult lives. The government has driven the economy into the ground and people scrape by to feed their families. And here I have to ask this man for his help. With all of my advantages in life.

But Patrick doesn't even think twice. He will take me and Nathan to the embassy, surely they will help out. He has his son in law drive us and after 20 minutes, we learn that the marine on duty will, not only deny us entry onto the premise, but assures us that we are on our own until Monday. I hate marines. At least 99 percent of the ones I have met in my day.

Patricks son in law offers to take us to his home. He insists. But I tell him that we will find a way. It was just me being prideful and I regret it because I know that Patrick and his family would have loved to have taken us in for a weekend. But I tell him that we will call him when we get money and repay our debt asap. he smiles and reluctantly leaves us at the gate of the embassy.

We walk to a nearby church and ask a few nuns for help, explaining our situation. They probably laugh on the inside. Poor americans need some help. But one nun takes us to a nearby dorm type place (more on it later) and introduces us to Slyvester. Sly is about 26 (or maybe 36 I am a bad guesser) and he offers us a room for 5 us dollars a night on credit. We accept.

The next two days (sat and sun) are spent with nothing but a bit of nasty bread, a can of beans and a 2 litre of water, all given to us by Karein's parents before leaving. I never thought we would use them, but we were very glad that we had them!

Sunday night I told Nathan that our only hope was to write Sheila and see if she can somehow send US cash to us. reason being, if we use the atm or bank we will get 250 zims for every dollar. The black market rate is 75,000 zims for every dollar. A bottle of water cost about 200,000 zims. At the black market rate, it is less than 3 dollars. At the bank rate it is almost 900! That is not a joke, that is real. I told Nathan that if there is a way to get chas, Sheila will find out how. We spent our only money (about 50 cents) to send one email to Sheila.

When we woke up the next morning the embassy let us know that money was waiting for us at the embassy. I nearly vomited. I had not breathed in days I was so nervous that we were not going to get out of the jam without paying hundreds of dollars. It was Monday, the 11th of June, Nathan's 23rd birthday. We were too tired and sick of the coutntry to celebrate, so we just bought a bus ticket to Lusaka for 400,000 zims. 7 dollars by the black market rate.

While it was not a pleasant few days, I am still amazed at the kindness that we received from people that had no reason to trust us or help us. 20 US dollars is certainly a lot by Zim standards and even more so for a man that has a large family to take care of. Patrick must leave his wife and family for weeks at a time in order to provide for his family. And yet, somehow, he has enough love, enough faith, and enough good will to help out some punk Americans who didn't do their research before traveling to Zimbabwe. He had no way of finding us if we skipped town, no way of holding us accountable. But he didn't even hesitate. I told him that my favorite stories are the ones about Jesus coming to serve. The sheep and the goats and so forth. He laughs and tells me that this is his goal.

So long Patrick. I don't know why, you hellped me. Oh but I'm glad, so glad you did!!!!

Footnotes - or lesser serious notes on the same story: I am pretty sure that the "dorm" that we stayed in for two nights was actually a brothel. The first night, Slyvester asked us if we wanted girls, and then made a sexual gesture. We didn't laugh, we were just confused. Then we said, no thanks. Nathan then asked, "Did that nun just take us to a brothel?" But the question sounded to absurd and so we assumed that something was lost in translation when Sly said "girls."

On our final night, we told sly that we must walk to the bus station at 8 pm and he immediately said "I will escort you." I asked if it was dangerous and he said "Yes!" I said, yeah, but do you think we will get mugged? "Yes!" So he goes and gets a sling shot. I laugh but he is dead serious. I ask him what for and he says, "Theives." Then he shoots a rock across the lawn. I ask if he has used it before and he says "Yes!"

Then he tells me that life here is very rough. People are desperate and they do desperate things to provide for themselves. He tells me, "it is not that these girls (poiting to a girl that walks past and who has been staying in the room next to us) want to do prostitution, but they must. - Then the girl hands him a wad of money. I am pretty sure we stayed in a brothel.

Me and Mrs Ples

I think I have a new candidate for best part of the trip. To begin, we arrived at Karein's, a friend of Nathan's house in the capital city of Pretoria, home of the bulls (see the super 14 post). Karein had a hot meal ready for us along with two guest beds complete with a chocolate on the pillow. It was several steps up rfom the cow dung hut we stayed in the night before. To make it even better, I mentioned that I wanted to visit a place called the cradle of humankind, a site with paleontology significance, and her father had all kinds of insights into what to do. He even said that he could set us up with Dr. Francis Thackery at the Transvaal musuem. This would be an incredible honor!

THe next morning we got up at sunrise and had breakfast, prepared for us by Karein! Then we headed off to the city center where he amde a call for us over to the musuem. Unfortunatley Dr. Thackery couldn't meet with us but we were invited to see the famous fossil finds of Dr. Broom! The musuem has them locked up in the basement. When we arrived we met Stephanie, a paleontologist that works at the musuem. We were in for a very neat tour!

We bypassed the admission office and just walked right into the upstairs exhibit. At first, Stephanie was very formal and we went over stuff that was pretty basic. But Nathan was new to human evolution and it is always nice hearing professionals speak about these things so I just relaxed and went with the flow. Eventually, the tour became more informal and after about half an hour, it was basically like we were just talking with Stephanie as she gave us some cool stories about the finds and the people behind them.

Then, we went downstairs. We entered THE BROOM ROOM. Imediately I spotted Mrs Ples. It was amazing. A fossil that I had seen in books and read about for so long was right in front of me. She opened up the display and I actually got to touch and hold the skull in my hands. A 2 million year old ancestor, in my hand! For me, it doesn't get any better. For some people it's the pyramids, for others it's the collesuem. For me, it was this. Holding a hominid that lived so long ago. This peice of pre history. It was undescribable!

FYI - Mrs Ples is the name of a skull of australopithicus africanus, an upright walking ape that lived 2 million years ago. it was very human like in many regards. We also saw an africanus skeleton, and fossil remains of paranthropus robustus, a more robust hominid.

The tour ended two hours later when Stephanie showed us the lab and then talked about life as a fossil hunter. She let me drill her for a few questions that are helpful for the purposes of my screenplay.

From the transvaal musuem we went to Sterkfontein, a famous cave site where Mrs Ples was discovered along with several other fossil hominids. The tour over there was very cheesy, including a plasma screen TV short that explained how the caves formed and how the fossils were excavated. The host was much less helpful than Stephanie (although Stepahnie absolutely rocked so that is not saying much), but the caves were a lot of fun and also very neat to see a piece of history. I recognized many things from books and documentaries.

The best part, this day has given me a lot of excitemnt for my story and a lot of new ideas. And some pictures that, while goofy, are very neat to me. Footnotes: I have just written 6 blogs in less than 1 day and I have written each of them on a whim. So please forgive me for the typos and sloppy writing. Hopefully I will have more time in the days to come! Look for new pics. I am going to add them now.

Father Philaemon had many sons

Tiff came to Africa hoping to experience the culture. And since her bags were lost, we spent two days in a suburb of Jo'berg and 4 days in Kruger park. With 2 days to go, we decided to rent a car and visit the kingdom of Swaziland. Not knowing much about it added to the excitement.

As we drove in we noticed children everywhere. Turns out, 200,000 children are orphaned due to HIV and poverty in Swaziland, a high number considering it has less than 2 million citizens. We arrived in Ezulwini and called a guy named Richard who I was told would set us up with a cultural tour. We eventually found him and he introduced us to our host for the night: Philaemon.

Philaemon lives in the mountains and survives a traditional life. This means, he has two wives, and 20 children, and lives in a hut made of cow dung. For 100 Rand (about 15 dollars) we were able to stay with him for the night and enjoy a dinner and breakfast. Since they hardly spoke English, the tour basically meant that we were invited to come observe an average evening with him and his family.

As we arrived we were greated by dozens of kids. It was a baby factory. There were babies everywhere. Children and grandchildren of Philaemon. We spent the first hour just playing with the chilren. I'm guessing it was Tiff's favorite part of the trip. One girl in particular caught her attention and Tiff spent a lot of time with her. We sang songs and watched the kids dance. SOmehow they learned a dance where they tuck an arm into their pants and start humping. It was hilarious. We laughed for an hour and the mother said that they looked like donkeys.

We learned quite a bit about life in Swaziland despite barely being able to communicate. Pictures will tell the experience as well as anything. After a terrible night of sleep, we drove all day to make Tiff's flight. We arrived a bit late but oh well. Tiff's departure was much like her trip, very quick. We pulled up, slammed on the breaks, grabbed her bag, she hit me in the nuts on accident and then she was gone. It was a good visit and I think she had a lot of fun. Look forward to guest blog coming soon.

The Big Five: Don't ever pimp me out again!

The final day we set out at 6 am (when the gates open) with the goal of spotting a lion and possibly a leopard. Talking to folks the night before in camp, it seemed as though everyone was spotting lions. One guy saw 18 of them. Lucky SOB. An old couple, and by old I mean 90, saw 5 or 6. We felt like we must have been the only people that weren't spotting lions. So we left nothing to chance. Sun up to sundown, driving at a slower pace.

Unfortunately, between 6 am and noon we only saw Impalas, and a guy that said he just saw a caracal (a rare, small mountain cat). It was very discouraging. The afternoon was more of the same. The only hihglight was that we saw a Rhino very near the car. They are very intimidating creatures. They look like dinosaurs. They weighed more than our microbus. It was very cool.

We left the park and before finding a place to crash we went to the grocery store deciding that we would celebrate our last night with our new friends by cooking a delicious meal over a bar-b-que. We bought steaks. Unfortunately, the hostel that we went to was terribly run down. The kitchen had not been used for years and whoever used it years ago failed to clean up after themselves. On top of that it was pouring rain. It was the most ghetto hostel we have been to so far.

But, we made the best of it and even enjoyed nathans creative cooking schemes. I should note that all of Nathan's cooking schemes have been "creative" and by creative I mean disgusting. But not all his fault. The ingredients here are few and often poor and Nathan prefers complex meals. SO complexity + poor ingredients usually results in funny meals. But he's a good shit so I don't give him too much trouble.

The highlight of this night was that this tall guy came up to me and said, "this, long long man. me, long long man but this, long long long man." Then he looked at Tiff and Helena and said, "which one." I said that they were my sisters and he said, "how much." I said "30 rand." He didn't understand, and I have a feeling I didn't understand what he was saying. We all laughed, except for Tiff who made me promise that I will never pimp her out again. She was dead serious. Whcih only amde it funny.

But for the record. I will never pimp Tiff out again.

The next day we had to leave the Germans. It was very sad because it was such a joy to meet them and spend so many days with them. The greatest part about this trip for me has been the way that we have been able to meet people and become such intimate friends for a few days. I really hope to meet them again some day. As we left they gave us a gift. A postcard with the big five on it, only the leopard was crossed off because we did not see it. On the back they said that the ROAD EXPERIMENT (a reference to a sign we saw) was great due to THE BIG FIVE: TIFF, ADAM, NATHAN, FLO AND HELENA. I couldn't have said it better my self. Adios Kruger. And safe travels to Flo and Helena!

Sir, there's a Rhino over there

Day 3: Floand Helena slept every night in the back of their microbus. I think that they prepared the perfect trip for a couple. I am very jealous of them and I would love to go on a similar trip with Sheila sometime soon. They bought a microbus in Cape Town and they just camp in it and travel along at their own pace.

Anyway, we were only able to book one bedroom with two beds and so my choices were either to cuddle closely to Nathan or take one for the team and sleep in Nathan's hammock. The night was cold but I was well covered in blankets. I slept well enough but woke up with my but hanging on the ground (the hammock sagged throughout the night) and I had a sore throat. I feared right away that it was the first day of strep throat. I know what that feels like and it felt like this. Helena has had a lot of experience with strep and said that she could tell me what to expect if I showed her my throat. She took a look and then the look on her face was priceless. It was this face of, "oh my god!"

I took some medicine and decided to just take it easy, maybe even sleep a bit in the car. Fortunately, it never got worse. But I was very worried for the next two days. Strep throat hits me like a sack of bricks. But I guess I dodged a bullet. No more hammocks in cold weather for me.

Our goal on day 3 was to spot a Rhino. There are over 1000 in the park and we figured that we should have seen one by now. It took the work of the eagle eye - some of you don't know but I have something that the apache's call the eagle eye - but I saw what looked like a rhino about 200 meters away entering the bushes near a river. We stopped and looked as hard as we could see. An Elephant emerged so we assumed that it was just an elephant. Then a buffalo emerged and so we figured it was probably a buffalo that I saw. Right before we moved on, Helena screamed, "It is a Reeno" (reeno = rhino).

It was far away but it was still exciting since we had a pretty dull day of spotting wildlife. But the best part came when a British guy pulled next to us to ask what we saw and Nathan replied in the heaviest British accent "Sir, they's a Rhino ova ther'." Tiff and I cracked up for about 10 minutes. He sounded like a 10 year old boy. I'm sure the British guy was like, WTF? You're not british. It definately goes down as one of the funniest moments of the trip.

To end the day, we had to go about 140 k's in one hour. The park booklet suggested that the drive we needed to take would require 3.5 hours. Helena had to get us there, on a dirt road, in about 1 hour and 15 minutes. We hauled balls. It was great because evening is the best time to spot wildlife. We passed another Reeno, elephants, a huge heard of Kudu, Zebra, and Impalas, and nearly gave a Girraff a heart attack. Girraffs are the most awkward runners and this one got scared when our car came screeching to a hault. It started running full speed and looked like it was going to collapse on itself when it tried to slow down.

We passed an old couple (and by old I mean about 40 years old) that was eager to point out this colorful bird. He waved us down and said, "Look, there's a blue spotted guinefowl!" With great excitement in his voice. We looked and then said, "Cool, man." Then he said, "No, look a blue spotted guinea fowl." Then he pulled out a bird book to show us a picture and we looked, smiled and then floored the car to 120 k's, trying to make it to the campsite by ngihtfall. We laughed about that for the next few days.

The Big Five: Day Two

The next day we followed a river south. We saw tons of hippos, kudu's and crocs. Kudu's are large elk sized antelopes with beautiful spiral horns. They stand with their chests out which makes them look like the kings of the forests.

We came around a corner and saw a bunch of cars huddled around a dead Giraffe carcass. Inside the belly of the mangled Giraffe was a lion. We parked and watched the lion for an hour. It was such an intimidating creature. It was not bothered at all by the dozen cars full of people snapping photos. It had blood on its lips and would literally rip flesh off of the dead carcass. Every now and then it would quickly raise it's head as if it heard something that it didn't like. When it gives that look of suspicion, you realize that they are powerful and dangerous animals. I've seen bears before but Lions take the cake for scariest animal to see in the wild. But the excitement for me is spotting the animals and then feeling like you are really in the wild. It was hard for me to feel this way when you have a dozen cars gathered around a lion that doesn't seem to care about being watched. So in that way, the lion was not as exciting as I hoped it would be.

The highlight of the second day, and possibly of the entire park visit, came as we stopped at a viewpoint and spotted a few vervet monkeys. We turned off the car and got out for a stretch - something that is, for the safety of the visitors, illegal except in designated areas of the park. The clan of monkeys would come close but run off if you made a loud noise or put your arms up in the air. But they wouldn't run far and they would each time try to get closer to the car. Finally, I ran after one of the monkeys that had gotten too close, only to find that it was a sort of decoy. Right when I stepped toward the one intruder, another jumped into the car through a window, ran toward the food, grabbed an apple and hurried out. It was a bit scary but mostly hilarious. I officially got outsmarted by a group of monkeys. Once we regained control of the car, we closed the doors and rolled up the windows. But then the monkeys just climbed on the hood and roof and stared at us. It was awesome! I made a face at one monkey and then he made a strange face back. It was like he was messing with me. Monkeys are just awesome! We all cracked up for about 15 minutes watching them. The pics wont do it justice.

One problem that we came across was that we did not book our rooms or camping sites in advance. So every morning we had to try to find a place to stay for the night. The first night was no problem. The second night, every site was full. The only place that we found accommodation was about 100 k's away and we had about 30 minutes to get there. The speed limit is a fixed 50 k's per hour because of the massive amounts of wildlife on the roads. That night, Flo drove a steady 60 kph to get us to the site on time. We passed about 100 elephants and countless other animals as we blazed down the road.

The Big Five

Approaching the eastern part of South Africa you begin to get acquainted with terms like "The Big Five." I don't know why but that term disgusts me. It's a touristy term that game parks use to show that they have the 5 most important animals, Leopards, Lions, Elephants, Rhino's and.... Buffaloes? It bugs me because there is so much to see in these parks and people act like a park is not as nice if it doesn't have the big 5.

But, the term has been completely redeemed for me by two great people that found a new meaning of the term. The big 5, Tiffany, Nathan, Adam, and Flo and Helena.

Nathan and I met Flo and Helena a week ago in Drakensberg (far away from Kruger) and found that our paths are heading in the same direction toward Kruger Park, the largest game park in South Africa. We got along well and decided that it would be cheaper and probably more enjoyable if we joined forces, their microbus and our... gas money.... So after Tiff arrived we took a bus out to Kruger to meet up with them.

It was an early candidate for best decision of the trip. Not only did it save us money, and not only was the microbus the coolest car that I have ever stepped inside (even cooler than my ol' hermit), and not only was the park one of the greatest outdoor experiences I have ever had, but these two Germans were two of the sweetest and most interesting people that I have ever met. In fact, the two of them and the dozens of other germans that I have met in the last few months have made me decide that the Germans must be the greatest people in the world. Seriously, I have met so many great Germans in the last few months. Guten Schletzin!

But now about the park. There is really no explaining adequately the experience that I had. So I will just give highlights. We arrived in the park and spotted a few Impalas. We stopped and took soem photos and marveled over them. Little did we know that we would see approximately 5,000,000,000,013 Impalas in the next 4 days. In fact, for the first hour and half, all we saw was Impalas.

But the wait ended when I spotted an Elephant trudging through the bush about 30 meters away. Elephants are amazing! They are so huge! And seeing them in the wild is unreal. We spent the first day driving through the northern part of the park (about 100 k's or less). We saw Girraffs, dozens of Elephants, warthogs, and hippos. By lunch, we found a campsite and picniced in front of 4 Elephants splashing in a nearby river. (queue the jurrasic park music).

In the evening we saw a giant Elephant walking beside us on a remote road. We rolled down the dirt road and came across his clan. Nearly two dozen Elephants, including a few baby's! As we got nearer, the adults formed a circle around the baby. It felt very wild. They were protecting it from us.

We returned to camp at sundown and had a delicious dinner (rice bowls). Since our camp was right by the river we could hear animals just on the other side of the electric fence that kept us safe. Here is where I cannot write enough to explain this experience. Sitting by the fence for hours. Just hearing the animals move around in the night. Hippos, elephants, lions, everything! They were literally right on the other side of the fence. It is one of the best exeriences. I know that my parents and family would all love this!

Arrrrrggghhh... Time is up. To be continued. Pictures coming soon.