5,000 Miles in Africa

The Long Goodbye

2007-07-19T04:39:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been a mere formality - waiting for my plane to arrive. Nathan was able to change his flight so that he would go home a day before me and so last night was our final night together here in Africa. It was a lucky break for Nathan because he feels (and looks) terribly sick. But that didn't stop him from going out for a final drink or two at the nearest pub.

It was our final salute to this continent and a surprisingly good time. We planned on having just one but one turned into four or five. Who's really counting? Nathan's Bowels (get it?) held up well enough for him to brave a few beers and we smoked a cigar, something we had been planning to do for the last 10 weeks. It was a nice moment that was a fitting farewell to a very good trip to Africa. Nathan and I reminisced over cheep beer while listening to Tupac's California Luv get mixed with Backstreet Boys in what was probably the worst DJ'ing performance I have ever witnessed. Pair that with the big screen TV's showing 12 year old womens Karate compeition and... well... welcome to Africa. I really don't get the entertainment industry out here. I really think that there is a market here waiting to get exploited by some creative minds. Topsy, if you are reading this, get started.

While Nathan grabbed his bags I hailed him a cab and soon enough he was off. Our journey together was over.

I had a bit of energy so I decided to go out for a bit and just relax with my thoughts. I found a club that was playing some good American Rock N Roll and posted up for about 45 minutes.

SHORT RANT: It is an "African-American" thing to like Hip Hop. In Africa, the most common music is reggae, followed closely by Pop, Rock, and even a bit of country... seriously. Last night at the club the locals were going absolutely crazy for Linkin Park, Chili Peppers, and other Rock bands. I mean, jumping up and down, as if they were at a concert.

I mysteriously got very tired and decided to just go home and fall asleep. While walking home, I finished the cigar that Nathan and I had split and wouldn't you know it, smoking in public is a crime. Eager to tell me this were 3 "police" who quickly cornered me. It was like I was in my little bubble in my mind, walking not noticing anything, then suddenly I am cornered against a wall.

"Did you know smoking in Public is illegal in Nairobi? Come with us, you are going to jail."

I have been in Africa for too long to fall for this charade. All these jokers wanted was a small bribe which, given that I was 24 hours from my flight, I was happy to give. I knew that I had a 1000 bill a 500 bill and about 6 or 7 100 bills in my pocket. The odds were in my favor that if I just reached in my pocket, I would grab a 100 and this would all be over. So I reached in and tried to grab the 100. Of course, as luck would have it, I pulled the 1000. But I refused to give it to them. I was pulling a bit of a tough guy with them although I probably should have just run away. I tried a second time and of course, I pulled out the 500. What are the odds? I had all those 100's and of course I pull out the only big bills.

They smiled, laughed even, and took off with their 500. Back to serve and protect the streets of Nai-robbery. For the record, I was never robbed in Africa by anyone other than a police officer. This was the 3rd time that I was robbed by a cop. God bless Africa.

While at the bar I had this feeling and the correlating thought: I am 8,000 miles from everyone that I know. No one in this country, on this continent, in this hemisphere, knows my name or who I am. I am completely alone. It was a pretty interesting feeling, one that I am glad to have experienced, especially since it has only lasted for less than a day.

Today I tried to occupy my time by going to a library to read HEART OF DARKNESS but THE library in Nairobi was very old. I asked reception where I could find Joseph Conrad and she gave me a blank look. Then I asked for fiction books and she said, "oh, fiction is the 3 shelves over there." Really? The 3 shelves? 3 shelves of fiction?!? I ended up finding a few short stories by Kafka that only occupied me for about 2 hours. The rest of the day will be spent online and possibly watching... God forgive me... NEXT starring Nicolas Cage.

I am not sure whether I will write a reflective blog once I am back in the states, but there is one thing that I would like to mention. One little rant that will require you to stick with me.

While finding ways to waste time the last 4 days I have been re-reading my blogs from May and June. Especially with the early ones in Cape Town, I couldn't believe what I was reading. I was so ignorant to life here in Africa. In one blog I refer to Zulu dancers that sang in Afrikaans. It is sad because they were not Zulu's they were Xhosa's and they were singing in Xhosa. How little I knew about life here. My first few blogs were filled with misinformation and errors on my part. Harmless? Probably, but still a reflection of how little I knew. But to my credit, these things must be learned through experience. And the last 10 weeks have provided countless lessons on life in Africa, the people, and the problems.

But like most things in life, the more you learn, the more you realize that you know very little. And the more you look for answers the more questions seem to come to the surface. Each year millions upon millions of dollars are poured into Africa in aid and relief. NGO's occupy every corner of the countries that I have visited. People filled with the grandest intentions arrive willing to help a continent that is in need of a helping hand. Honorable people, often very courageous, hard working, selfless and inspired.

Now, I am too simple a mind to offer anything of significance. And I certainly don't wish to take anything away from the people that sacrifice their comforts for a far and fleeting goal. But one of the most troubling things that I take away from this experience is the seeming futility of such efforts that are so common here in Africa. Before I sound like a nihilist, what I mean is that I hoped to come to Africa and find some small answer, some small inspiration about how to help this continent. But the trek has only opened my eyes to all sorts of new questions.

It only serves to reaffirm my belief that I can only focus on the personal. I have met many people on this trip that will stay with me forever. Some, I hope, will remain in close contact for a long time to come. It is in these relationships that I find some sense of purpose. I am pretty confident that I can help many of my new friends with their personal ambitions, advise them about their current problems, and prepare them for their upcoming challenges. But I am also pretty certain that it can only be done on a personal level. Not from any religious dogma or political propoganda, but from the personal friendships that I have been able to establish.

And I am done. I still have about 6 hours before I need to find a taxi for the airport, and from there another 24 hours of "airtime" before I am home. But this is the conclusion of my 5,000 miles in Africa. Thank you to my readers. If you want to do a very cool thing, send me a comment on this blog letting me know that you have been following the posts. It would be neat to see who has actually kept up with them. I promise that when I arrive in the states, and Nathan sends me my copy of the photos, you will be treated to some amazing photos. Seriously, you will want to check back in about 2 weeks.

Tired and Buffed

2007-07-15T23:27:00.000-07:00

We woke before sunrise and took off on our final leg back to Nairobi. We once again caught the sunrise as we drove, making it 7 straight sunrises that we saw on our 8 day trip, a sort of medallion that we boast for packing each day with at least 18 hours of adventure.

Our tires were in terrible shape, as was the engine but after calling the rental company they assured us that we must drive the car in ourselves, a stark contrast to the promise that they made when we left that they would come get us if the car broke down. We drove halfway and the hole in the side of the tire began to widen. Since we payed 20 dollars for the tubing inside the tire to reinforce it, we didn't want to risk blowing the tube so we swapped the tubing in our one blown tire with another, slightly less blown tire that we had as a spare.

Once in the city the real challenge began. Driving in Nairobi is a free-for-all, it's like Nam, there aren't any rules. Since our car stalled anytime we idled, Nathan would have to keep the car constantly moving. Whenever we could not move Nathan would pop it into neutral and rev the engine, then pop it back into gear. It was terrible for the car. We dropped off Abdi, drove across town to drop off some gear that Louise had given us, then back across town trying to find a hostel, then finally, back across town to drop off the car.

We were prepared for a fight with the rental company since we were returning a busted car, missing two tires, and covered in dirt, inside and out. In the US, this would all be fine given that they gave us a spare that didn't work, a jack that didn't work, and we called a day earlier explaining that the engine was slipping but were told to drive dangerously anyway. But this is Africa. The rental guys were shocked to see the dirty car and I could tell that they were displeased. Then when they saw the condition of the engine, I knew they would try to pin it on us, regardless of the fact that this car had 220,000 kilometers on it. They called a mechanic who called a mechanic who finally called another mechanic and the final mechanic discovered that there was a problem with a sensor, a relatively minor problem. When I asked him what causes such a problem he said, "these are like light bulbs, with time, they just stop working." Not our problem right? Wrong.

First thing they did was lock us in. The guards closed the gates on us in case we decided to run away, something I had strongly considered since we paid in cash and didn't give them any significant info. Then they started finding superficial problems with the car. Like the brake pads being worn. How is that our fault? It doesn't matter. The reasoning goes, "All I ask is that you return my car the way I gave it to you." Eventually he would ask for about 50,000 Kenyan shillings, nearly double the price of the rental. I told him that it was an impossibility.

After nearly an hour of arguing I gave in to the fact that we were locked inside a guarded compound and would either be leaving with the police escorting us to jail or by paying some unfair amount. In the end, we got it down to about 220 dollars, which he argued was the price of 2 new tires and a buff. Nevermind the fact that we already paid nearly 100 dollars on tire repairs and lost 100 dollars in returning our car one day early. I wrote up a release of liability and made the guy sign it upon our paying him. My only hope now is that they find something worse wrong with the car and that they lose a lot of money on the deal. And then of course that they become infertile and their lines are removed from the gene pool. Any future travelers to Kenya, steer clear of HYPER CARS LTD.

Nathan and I made it back to our hostel and had a nice meal at hooters. Again, shops use American names but actually have nothing to do with the original, American chains. The journey was complete and had brought us nearly 2,000 kilometers in 8 days. It was a great journey filled with adventures and of course, problems and challenges. But it was certainly a highlight of a very long trek through Africa. It is a short downhill race now till Thursday night when I leave. We will spend this week in Nairobi, a very busy and modern city with a lot to offer in the way of entertainment and culture. Hopefully some photos in the next day or so, so check back!

Payin dues (revisited)

2007-07-15T09:38:00.000-07:00

Because our car was in such bad shape, bad tires, and the engine was starting to stall whenever we idled or reversed, we decided to spend a day in a tiny town called Isiolo while we made a plan.

Isiolo was a depressing little town that was all too African. It was very poor and there were so many homeless kids in the streets, day and night, following us around asking for money or food. With so many kids, you really feel like nothing that you do will help. These kids are helpless. And we have run into situations like this everywhere we go but Isiolo seemed worst given that it was a one horse town... or one donkey town as it were. Actually there were lots of donkeys running around the streets. I woke up in the moprning and there was a donkey eating trash in front of our hostel. No joke. Does anyone own this donkey?

We threw way our meat that had been rotting for 6 days in the only dumpster in town. In Africa, people just throw their trash on the street. The streets are covered in fowl smelling trash, sometimes they burn it when the piles get too high. It is really disgusting. But what is worse is that ten minutes after we threw away our trash we saw a young boy standing inside the dumpster eating our rotten meat and eggs. It was so sad. He was literally squashing a rotten, uncooked egg into his mouth. Africa is a very sad place sometimes.

Everyone in this town sat around eating this drug leaf that made them high. I wondered why in such a poor town everyone seemed to be just laying around but our friend and road companion Abdi (slave) said, "you have not observed? These people are all sitting getting high on those leafs that they chew. By nightfall they will all be mad."

Sure enough, that is what happened. All day these people sat around in the shade eating leafs and by night time they were all walking around like madmen. One guy, a Muslim, told me that he doesn't hate Americans, just Jews and Israelis. Nathan told him that I was Israeli, which is believable since I look very Israeli with my beard, and the man laughed and sort of apologized, saying that what he meant was that "we" the Islamics, should have finished off the Israelis by now.

The best part of this slow, depressing day was going to watch a youth soccer game. Nathan had made friends with a couple of nice guys that were surely just looking for money but they were nice about it, hard working, and not pushy. Nathan had them wash our cooler (which reeked of rotten meat), change our tires, and do other odd jobs. They didn't ever ask for money but it was assumed that they would be paid. Because they were nice people Nathan gave them each 7 dollars and a book. They seemed very happy with that.

The youth soccer game was amazing. For starters, the field was all dirt with large stones and bushes spread out on the field. Players would literally have to avoid these things. Some players didn't even have cleats or shoes. It is amazing how tough these kids are. There were about 150 people gathered watching the game that took place at 4 in the afternoon, letting you know how much these people like soccer, but also how little there was going on in this town. No one was working except for the dozen or so shop owners. Everyone plays soccer out here in Africa. The kids play without shoes or a ball. They improvise a ball by getting trash and plastic and spinning it into a sort of rubber band ball. You can usually tell how old a kid is by how big a ball of trash he has. Older kids have a soccer ball sized ball that is fairly round. The younger ones have a tiny little ball with lumps all over. Poor is playing soccer barefoot in a thorny field with a ball of trash. Mom, tell the kids at the mission this next time they go outside and play soccer. I imagine it is a bit of perspective.

It is sad to see how this town spends their time getting high and drunk all day while dozens of homeless kids run around, half naked, filthy, begging for food, literally starving to death. Kids no older than 5 or 6 in some cases. The town is only one block long, maybe 5,000 people at most and at night there are anywhere from 30-100 people sleeping on the ground, most are children or women with children.

I spent most of my day here in Isiolo writing these blogs about our great adventure to Turkana. By night, we went to bed and Abdi left us, saying that he wanted to find some leaves. I was disgusted.

Lake Turkana Day Six - Deja Vu

2007-07-14T01:48:00.001-07:00

That night spent in the desert heat, cramped in the car, underneath the stars was really not that bad. The thought I kept having was how lucky we were. Had this happened on day 3, between Liongolani and Sibiloi, we might not have been found for weeks. Had it happened on Day One in Samburu, we might have been killed. So to be in this desert where occasionally cars pass through was the best of bad case scenarios.

The sun woke me up and Abdi's assurance that a car would be here by 6 was long lost. By 8 he just rolled over and said, "hmmm, they must be running late." He was so much calmer than we were. It is really pretty funny.

Finally a land rover drove up and Abdi and I loaded up the tire and hopped in the back. Since we couldn't risk our car being stolen or the stuff inside, Nathan stayed back and watched the car. I would ride 1 hour into town in the back of a truck with 7 other people, two tires, a 50 gallon container and tons of rice. Oh the things people go through in Africa as part of their daily lives.

In town I got the mzungu price for two tire repairs, about 20 dollars, and then got a ride back to Nathan. I asked the man how much it would cost for a ride and he insisted that we settle later. I told him that we settle it first but he would not. His loss.

We got back, put the tire on and then the guy, a real sleeze ball, called me over and said, "10,000." I laughed. That is 150 US dollars. Our car rental per day is 90. The petrol he used was about 7 dollars. I offered him 1,000 and he got pissed. I told him we should have settled it first. Finally we met in the middle, or at least at 2,000, way too much if you ask me but he was pissed off. I hate people that exploit other peoples problems like this.

I should note that Abdi opted to stick with us rather than take another ride to Nairobi. Partly because I think he is having fun with us but also because he is a good guy. And we are very happy to have him with us. He is a lot of fun and usually a good source of info. Usually.

We rolled into the tiny town of Marsabit where we would connect with the highway that runs from Cape Town to Cairo. However, it is not paved and it is quite a dodgy road. By 3 in the afternoon we took off en route for Isiolo, once again picking up a hitcher, a woman that Abdi knew. She gave him company and Nathan and I just listened to music. Nathan was pretty beat from driving and so I took over for the first time on the trip. I cruised us at a fast pace and soon it became dark. Abdi assured us that we would be in Isiolo by nightfall but by 6:30 (SUNDOWN) we were less than halfway. Usually he is good for info.

Keeping with tradition, about 40k's from Isiolo we heard another pop and another tire had gone. This was number 5. Fortunately, 5 minutes later a truck came, helmed by the governor of the region, accompanied by 10 men with assault rifles. He asked me how I found the country and I said I found it well. He told me not to worry and to let him know if we have any trouble ahead. Then his guys quickly and efficiently fixed our flat. The entire stop lasted less than 30 minutes.

We rolled into archers post, a small town 30k's from Isiolo and had our spare repaired by a drunk guy. We were watched by dozens more drunken guys. I met a really nice sober guy that really helped keep things okay. The drunk repair man did a horrible job and then requested 15 dollars. We offered him 4 which is the going rate, by this time we know how much a tire repair costs. He stumbled off without a fight.

Filthy, covered in dirt from head to toe, tired, and looking absolutely insane, we skidded into Isiolo and found lodging. We had a quick meal and crashed asleep. Before sleeping we all shared a laugh at the crazy adventure and our pathetic appearance. I wish we had a picture to offer. We looked like animals.

You are now caught up on the events of the last few days. I feel that I need to mention this feeling that I have that this is a sort of swan song for me. I only have one Turkana, one Africa adventure in me. And while it has been soooooo very sweet, it is the closing chapter of one life. I drove through the desert for 6 days and came out closing the chapter on a very fond set of memories. Memories that will ferment over time I am sure. In another life I would spend several years as a traveler but I really feel like this is it for me. I wish I would have come to traveling sooner. There is something great about going someplace dangerous, completely recklessly. I am sure that I will have many more adventures in my life but this is the end of this carefree, vagabond, caution to the wind of a journey.

In less than a week I will be back in the states and ready to start a new life. It is like a right of passage that could have come with graduation from college. Instead, for me, it came with 5,000 miles throughout Africa, culminating in a final trek through the desert. Although there will be more blogs ahead and more adventures, this trip is a capstone on a very interesting 10 weeks, and a very interesting 23 years.

Lake Turkana Day Five - Punctured

2007-07-14T01:24:00.002-07:00

That morning we woke once again to Jim Ross, "this is your 5:30 wake-up call!" We said our goodbyes and followed the trucks into Sibiloi. They stopped and we kept on going. We estimated that we had just enough petrol to get us to Marsabit, the nearest town with petrol, some 400 k's away. We were prepared for a full 12 hour drive.

We got lost a few times in Sibiloi. It is really the worst national park to visit as a tourists, the roads are not marked at all. We probably went 30 k's too many to leave the park, a nearly devastating mistake given our short supply of petrol. We hoped the rest of the trip would be smoother. It wouldn't be.

The road to North Horr was marked by desert and once again we didn't see a single car. Louise mentioned that we were "very lucky" not to have had a puncture this far into the trip with the poor, tubeless tires that we had. So in the desert heat we were sweating a puncture. We reached North Horr without any problems and, as happens in all tiny towns out in the middle of nowhere, we got hounded by the locals. MZUNGU! MZUNGU!

We found a guy that needed a ride to Marsabit (atually to Nairobi) and so we picked him. His name is Abdirahman (Slave of god), or Abdi (slave) for short. I think it is really funny to go by slave but that's just me. We would be very lucky to have him with us.

The desert that we had been crossing for 3 days was only a mild desert compared to the Chelbi desert,a sandy desert that looks very intimidating. You cannot see the horizon because of the thick mirages that occur. The heat must have wore our tires and at roughly 4:30 we hit the wrong bump and POP, something burst. I opened my door and saw that our weakest tire (the one with a slow leak) had completely burst. No big deal, I thought, lets just replace it. But then Nathan said, "this ones gone too!" Sure enough, both back tires were gone. One a blowout, the other a nasty leak that would deflate the tire in about 20 minutes.

We estimated that we were 30 k's from town and might be able to make it if we changed the blowout. Nathan grabbed the jack and started going but no sooner and our jack broke. So we started digging a hole improvising a jack. It was a futile effort as the other tire had slowly leaked its way to a flat. We were screwed. We hadn't seen a car in days.

Abdi told us not to worry, that a convoy of trucks was coming tonight and that they would be able to repair the tires. I liked his confidence but it was not what I had experienced in the last few days when no one came through. We hung out till dark and then after dark until we could see some lights coming in the distance. The SOB was right. A convoy of trucks were slowly making their way toward us. I've written about how I enjoy these misfortunes when they give you opportunities to get closer to the people and this was one of those times.

The convoy showed up and the guys went to work on the tire. They repaired only one tire (the other was beyond repair) but they didn't do such a great job and after putting it back on the car we could hear another slow leak. Some suggested that we turn around and follow them into the nearest town. We refused, not wanting to backtrack and took off for Marsabit, nearly 50 k's away.

About 20 k's down and we heard it. A pop that turned into a hiss that turned into a thud. It had blown. And we would be spending the night in the desert, hoping for another truck. Thsi time, Abdi was not so certain that one would come within the next few days!

I got out and sat on the hood watching the crystal clear night sky. My thought was, in one week, I will be home with Sheila. In one week. Surprisingly, we all 3 slept in the tiny car seats and I slept just fine. Probably because of the bad sleep I had the two nights before. I woke up once when Nathan asked me to roll up my window and then again as the sun was coming up.

Lake Turkana Day Four - The Leakeys

2007-07-14T00:52:00.001-07:00

Jim Ross woke us up with a cheerful and fatherly (if not humorous) "this is your 5:30 wake up call!" It was still dark and I had only gotten about 1 hour of sleep. No time to rest, I had to prepare myself for a busy and important day.

It began with an hour long drive along with Fred, Meave Leakey, and the two students toward the site of todays field research. The long drive provided me with time to pick the brains of the two students. Both girls were very sweet and nice and it was much easier to talk to them at first than the others. I really enjoyed the few days we spent with them.

When we arrived at the site we immediately saw how rich the site was with fossils. They are literally more common than stones! The difficulty of being a fossil hunter in Koobi Fora is not spotting fossils, but identifying which ones are worth taking. There are literally millions of fossils to choose from.

There were 4 of them and 2 of us. My thought was that I would hang back and watch as scientists did their science thing and for the most part that is what happened. But Meave was so sweat and would occasionally come and explain little things to me like why they chose this fossil and not that, and what this or that meant. With such a small group in the field, it was a very intimate setting. And as I find to be true more and more each day, people are just people. You just have to get down below the things that make seem so different.

Meave is so impressive in how she can see a tiny piece of fossil and without even picking it up identify both what part of the skeleton it is and what animal it comes from. "That's an M3 molar from a Deinotherium." I could watch her work all day, she has such an eye for fossils and is obviously smart as can be.

There were two occasions in particular that were neat. Both came when a partial fossil was exposed on the ground in fragments and Fred and Meave would begin assembling the pieces to form a very complete fossil. Then they would look at the surrounding areas and before long, a jumble of stone-like fragments became a very clear fossil. It was amazing. Meave could take a 1/4 inch piece of hip bone and know exactly where it should be placed amongst the other tiny fragments.

After about 5 hours or so we went back to camp. The field team is divided into the prospectors, made of local Kenyans that have a keen eye for fossils, and scientists like Meave that follow behind them determining what to take and what to discard. Back at camp, we had lunch and then they went back to work, this time at camp, cleaning fossils and preparing the next days field maps. It is a tedious project and you really have to love fossil hunting to do it. One half day is the extent of my fossil hunting career.

Instead of sitting and watching Habiba creating maps, I joined Louise as she took her two young daughters to the lake shore. She was very sweet in inviting me to the lake and I figured that this would be as great of an opportunity as I would ever get to pick her brain and learn about field work. It was just us two, her kids and her nanny. Not to spoil the details but we spent a couple of hours just wading in the lake and talking about fossil hunting, the area, and everything else that I wanted to know. Louise is actually very nice and very personable. It is so amazing that I could spend this time with her. It really made me feel so much better and less anxious being able to shed the formalities of field life and just talk by the lake. We watched some locals catch some fish with giant nets. Finally, on the way back, she took me to Ileret, the town, where I saw how these people live, hundreds of miles from anywhere. They ran around naked, some of them and lived in tiny bomas made of whatever materials available, cardboard, sticks, grass, etc.

That night we had dinner and I felt like we were truly welcome. Meave even commented that we were the easiest guests that they had ever had. I think that everyone enjoyed a few new faces, even though we were much different than the usual faces that come through camp.

That night I said my goodbyes to Louise. I was really glad to meet her. She asked me to keep in touch and to let her know about the progress of the story. She gave us a tire repair kit as one last little thing to help. Turns out it wouldn't be such a small token of help after all.

In the end things went pretty well. I wasn't as impressive as I would have hoped to have been but we had a great time and, well, it was like I was friends of the Leakeys. How cool is that?

Lake Turkana Day Three - Middle of Nowhere

2007-07-14T00:16:00.000-07:00

After buying a small curio from a local we set off. I buy small curios from people that help me without expecting return or at least without pushing the "pay me" issue. This guy helped me try to find a freezer for our spoiling meet and so I bought a little container/drum from him. We never found a cooler and so our meet spoiled. About 40 dollars wasted!

We were on the road as the sun peaked over the horizon. It quickly became even more desert than before. I have great photos to share. You could look for 100 k's in each direction and not see another soul. We went this entire day without seeing another car on the road. Not one!

In the morning the desert has a cool breeze that feels perfect. By about 10 it is hot and sweaty. My left arm is really dark!

Besides the occasional shepherd that hangs out around the small rivers and water holes, we didn't see anyone or anything all morning. It was so much fun to be lost in the middle of nowhere in the desert of Northern Kenya. While looking at a map I realized how close I was to Darfur, Northern Uganda, and even a short flight from Iraq. It is strange to be so close to these places.

We arrived at the gate to Sibiloi around 1. Sibiloi national park is a large area of land made secure by Richard Leakey in an attempt to preserve the many fossils in the area as well as the diminishing population of wildlife in the area including Lions and Leopards. Elephants and Rhinos used to call the land home but poachers have eliminated them from the park.

The park is so far from civilization that no one ever goes there. So the gate guy was shocked to see us drive up as tourists. For the next 3 days, we would be the only visitors in the 100k by 100k park. The guard had to call his boss to figure out how to fill out the proper paperwork for visitors. The boss, a soldier, arrived with his South African model assault rifle. Nathan and him talked guns and military for a while. It was nice, even though I hate guns and the military. But it seemed to strike a chord with these two. It is so neat to interact with people that live such different lives than you do, especially when you find the common ground.

After an hour they finally wrote us a receipt and let us in to the park. We started seeing some neat wildlife like hippos and some beautiful antelope. We drove to Koobi Fora, the site of Richard Leakey's expeditions and I recognized some things from books that I have read. We paid 30 dollars for a tour of the museum that promised fossils from the site but to our surprise it was nothing more than small room with silly displays. We were soooooo pissed. The guy at the desk had no idea about anything to do with Koobi Fora. I would later lean that Richard handed the museum over when he went into wildlife conservation and that it would be taken over by incompetent idiots that can't get their act together.

As we approached the camp at Ileret where I would meet Louise Leakey, I became very nervous. I always get nervous with these types of things but especially now since I was exhausted, filthy, and showing up 2 days before I had said I would. We found the camp and told the guards (armed guards) that we should be expected by Louise and the team. They walked us down to the camp and there stood Meave Leakey and the team. She didn't smile but instead gave me this look of, who are you and why are you here. I told her that I was a writer and she said, very matter of fact, yeah, we were expecting you but not until two days. I just said, yeah, sorry, we got here faster than we thought.

When Louise arrived she gave us a quick tour but seemed very distracted and a bit annoyed. i wasn't sure if it was me or just with something else but it made me feel very anxious. The camp was made up of the smartest, most established scientists in the world. There were two students that were there as part of a grant. One a Masters program student from NYU, the other a PHD student from Harvard. Combined with Meave, Louise, Jim Ross, and others, these people were very accomplished.

We were warned about scorpions and snakes and then escorted to our beautiful canvas tent. Then told that dinner was in an hour. Were they really cooking dinner for us? I caught my breath in our tent for a moment and then went down to sit and chat with Sarah and Habiba, the two students, while waiting for dinner. Eventually we would walk down to watch the stars for a while. In the desert, the stars are better than anywhere I've seen in the world. We were joined by a joy of a man named Jim Ross. He is an old man that was there testing out a new method for dating rocks and fossils. But he was the only one of the senior crew to be so warm to us from the start. He was genuinely interested in who we were and why we were there.

Dinner was served and it was an elaborate meal. The Leakey's employ local workers to serve them, creating jobs and getting the local community involved. It is really cool the way they pay so much care to the Kenyan people and the people of Ileret.

Meave sharply asked me, "So, what is... why are you here?" I was on the spot. I knew that meeting these people would be intimidating but it was something I wanted to put myself through. So, choking up, I began. I explained that I was a screenwriter, from Hollywood, and working on a story about human evolution. I explained the rough idea of the story but I am afraid it came out much less focused than what I really have laid out for the script. But they all seemed fairly interested. All of these people are scientists, and academics. Like most academics, they are a bit quirky and not the easiest to talk to. They often speak very matter of fact and employ a very scientific vernacular.

I would grade my effort that first evening as a C-. There were a few awkward moments and I did not do a good job of making myself seem worthy of being there. But that is the pressure I put on myself.

As I laid in bed that night I couldn't sleep. I woke up every 5 minutes, eventually falling into a panic attack. It was the first time that I have ever had this happen. I had this painful feeling of anxiety and this fear of making a fool of myself. It was undoubtedly spurred on by a number of things. For one, I was aware that I was by far the least intelligent person at the dinner table, something I have never felt. Second, I blew my opportunity to make a strong first impression. While I didn't do or say anything awful, I didn't inspire anyone or gain anyone's interest in my story. Lastly, and probably most importantly, the medicine that I've been taking for Malaria prevention has a side effect of anxiety and depression. The entire night would be filled with sweat and heavy breathing and this knot in my heart like I was a kid that had been crying so hard as to wear myself out.

Lake Turkana Day Two - The Volcano field of Mt. Kulal

2007-07-13T23:52:00.001-07:00

We woke up before sunrise and debated whether we had enough petrol or not. We had a full tank and 60 spare liters in containers in the back of our SUV. Since we still had about 700 kilometers before we would be able to fuel up, we weren't sure if it would be enough. We went to the petrol station to see what they thought and they let us know that we had a flat tire. Sure enough, the back right tire was very low and needed repair. So much for leaving before sunrise. It was a bit of a blessing in disguise.

2 hours and 3 dollars later we had a repaired tire when a guy asked us where we were going. After the killings the night before, I didn't want to tell complete strangers our whereabouts so I said to Nairobi. He said, "too bad you weren't going to Lake Turkana cause there are 2 French rastas that need a ride." We said, "Sweet, we will go that direction then!"

These two French Rastas (one guy had dreadlocks) came walking over and sure enough, we headed our direction. They could offer about 15 dollars a piece for the full day drive. We would enjoy the company so 15 dollars would be enough. Plus, extra people means more safety.

The day was great. No further problems. The landscape slowly became more and more desolate. The entire day we would see about 6 vehicles. We passed through a huge valley that stretched for as far as the eyes could see. It reminded me of south park Colorado. In the valley we saw wild ostrich, which, along with the camels we would see later was really funny and interesting to me. Wild ostrich? No way!

Further and further and it became more desert. One of the highlight of the trip was the feeling you get when you are hundreds of miles from the nearest town or village and you come across a Samburu, dressed in red paint, shukas, a spear, a mohawk, countless beads and decorations, just walking his ground. It is so strange and wonderful to see these people, completely different than anything you can imagine. I am told that young Samburu boys will go out and tend camels or sheep, alone in the desert, for weeks at a time. I can only imagine how lonely it must be.

We came to a small town, the last one before our night stop in Liongolani, and to our surprise there were old women waiting by the road with jewelry. Only 4 or 5 cars per week could pass through this remote village and yet these old women would wait by to sell things.

After this village it would be 100 k's and 4 hours before we arrived. The landscape became Martian as volcanic boulders the size of bowling balls began to liter the fields. The road was covered in sharp volcanic stones and it was a bit worrisome to drive through the hot desert thinking about a puncture. Finally, we got our first glimpse of the lake. It was beautiful. They call it the Jade sea but at this moment it was blue surrounded by a giant desert. Old volcanoes formed perfect cylinder around the lake.

We climbed slowly down the volcano field toward the lake. There wasn't a single tree anywhere in sight. As we got lakeside we saw a few Turkana people (they look similar to Samburus) pulling in nets and doing their daily things. The women go topless, and cover themselves in red paint. Some started running after the car asking for food or money. It was very sad. I have no idea how anyone can survive out here in the desert. There is very little to sustain them. We would later learn that the staple foods are camel milk and camel blood.

We gave 2 Turkanas a ride into town, about 10 k's. One, a woman that was topless. I have a great photo of our French guys in the back seat with this topless Turkana woman. She didn't speak any English except "give me money." I gave each of them a piece of bread which they devoured. The girl left paint on the back seat of our car. They both smelled horrible.

We arrived in the tiny town of Liongolani, a small village surrounded by palm trees. It was a tiny oasis in the desert. We would stay for the night but not until buying petrol at double price that it was in Maralal. Lesson learned, never cut it close with petrol. We would part with the Fenchies and thh next day would be all alone in the most literal sense.

Lake Turkana Day One - The beginning of an adventure

2007-07-13T23:28:00.000-07:00

At 6:30 AM we left the comfort of our dingy hostel bed for the open road en route for Lake Turkana's North Eastern shores. We left early because we wanted to make good time, possibly arriving in a town called South Horr by nightfall. We didn't know what to expect of the road that we would take, only that it was going to be remote, difficult to navigate, and potentially dangerous. Our car rental salesman, Hallelujah, was convinced that the car we had was safe, the equipment that he rented us worked, and that we would have no problems. Of course, I never believed him.

The first several hours we spent on a tarmac road through some fair but not breathtaking scenery. The highlight was coming across the Great Rift Valley, a giant rift that overlooks a seemingly endless valley below. With hardly any traffic on the road, Nathan and I cruised out of town and into the more remote areas of Southern Kenya.

By early afternoon we reached the small town of Rimuruti, where the tarmac ended. It would be 5 days before we saw it again. We were greeted by a giant step back in time as the villages became more traditional and the people more colorful. The road was decent for a dirt road and every half hour or so we would see another car passing by. It was such an exciting and wonderful feeling, being in the middle of nowhere in Kenya. Little did we know that each kilometer would bring us further and further from civilization, and further from safety!

About 1:30 I noticed some large animals on the left side of the road about 200 meters out. We stopped and saw that they were Zebras! We had seen them before in protected parks like Kruger, but to see them out on the range in the wild, in this unprotected area really gave us the feeling of being in Africa. We would see hundreds of giraffes, zebras, antelope, and other animals walking right on this deserted road in front of us. It was amazing.

Near 3:30 we ran into a school bus that had braved the dirt road. This 50 year old bus carrying dozens of teenage girls somehow made it this far on the rough road but had broken down in need of some minor repairs. We offered our tools and the driver thanked us. The he told us to wait for him. He said that just hours before a group of "Texas cowboys" had raided the village ahead and killed 16 people, including children, stealing goods and cattle. The fear in his eyes was very real. "We will be safer as two than as one," he says. Our excitement quickly became fear. Later we would learn that the slaughter was a clash between Pokot and Samburu people and that it was a tribal thing, never ever directed at tourists.

When we arrived in the town of Maralal it was approaching nightfall and we decided that we would stay here for the night, not wanting to drive at dark. We ate at the Hard Rock Cafe. No not thee Hard Rock Cafe. Just some tiny disgusting restaurant that served some type of unidentifiable meat, either a reddish fish or a pinkish beef. In Africa, you always see stores that have popular names like "Wal-Mart" even though it is just a small local hut, or "Applebees" even though it is just the same as every other restaurant.

We camped out at the safety of a place called Yari Camel Club, a nice hostel 3 k's from town. There we met some local Samburus, one of the many traditional groups of people in Northern Kenya. Most were getting wasted at the bar. Samburus are like Maasai in that they are tall, skinny, wear red and traditional decorations. But the Samburus seem even more traditional. More wild.

For 2 US Dollars we were able to sleep in our tent, outside beneath Billions of stars and the sounds of Northern Kenya's plains. It was a full day of beautiful drives and no problems! That would quickly change.

Mimi Ni Maasai

2007-07-07T02:13:00.000-07:00

After a few sub par experiences leading to a few sub par blogs, allow me to pick up the tempo a little bit and fill you in on some great adventures!

To begin, the Maasai people are some of the coolest in the world. I first learned about them a few years back and thought "wow, it would be cool to get to meet them." So when I was planning this trip, I made sure to mark down Arusha, a Maasai hub, as a place to stop and experience their culture. Arusha is known mostly for being the base camp for Tanzania's Safari curcuit. The serengeti and Ngorogoro only 50 K's away, host some of the best wildlife veiwing in the world. Everybody goes to tanzania to visit one of the many parks at the doorstep of Arusha. Consequently, the prices are ridiculously high and out of the range for yours truly. It is a new goal of mine to return here one day and visit one of these famous parks.

But our trip to Arusha was all about the Maasai. We arrived late at night and stayed in a real hole in the wall place named "menjas hotel" 20 Meters away from "Menja's hotel," and "Menja's hotel." We met a guy named "biggie" who is no doubt one of the millions of scams in Arusha who sold us a cultural experience tour with the maasai. Our original plan was to go to the maasai market, talk with some maasai and offer money in exchange for letting us hang out with them for a few dyas, but we were pressed for time and so "biggie" took advantage.

We met our guide, Godfrey and to my surprise, he was not like the maasai that we saw in Dar es Salaam, dressed in red blankets (shukas) and with piercings and weapons. Instead, he was a modern "larusa" maasai. Basically a mixture of traditional culture and modern ways of life. The larusa farm and dress modernly and seem like almost every other group of people in Africa but still keep a few traditions, like the circumcicion ritual that takes place when a child is 15!

One of the things that you read about the maasai is how they fight to preserve their culture. So when our first day involved a walk through a very modern neighborhood and a very modern guide, I was a bit worried that this would not be what I hope for. Speaking with Godfrey I learned that he, and many larusa's are now Christian, thanks to the several groups of missionaries that come through preaching the gospel. Add this to the mcDonalds t-shirt he was wearing and you can see where I was disappointed. The problem I have is in the way that our guide, Godfrey, talks about the maasai culture. Their creation stories and folklore is told with a hint of shame and embarrassment. I find these stories very interesting but Godfrey almost has a bit of shame, quickly letting me know that he no longer believes these and that he is christian. For me, it seems out of place for a maasai to be christian, at least culturally. Maasai have such a different way of life, or at least the nomadic, traditional ones do. To show how the cultures clash, I saw several signs that read "Mgaga wangu ni Yesu" (Jesus is my witch doctor). It is upsetting for me to think that a culture is ashamed of their culture and religion. But that was the feeling that I got.

But let me say that Godfrey is one of the joys of our trip. He was not only a guide, but a true friend. I hope to keep in contact with him for a long time and hopefully see him again, either in Tanzania or in the US.

The next day Godfrey guided us to a crater that was very lovely but the highlight of the day and the trip was going to the maasai market, also called the colorful market because of the sea of red that you see. Maasai wear red shukas and so everything is red. Nathan and I decided that the maasai look so cool in their shukas that we had to go ahead and get some for our selves. It started with buying a sword (machete) for about 5 dollars. Then we went and got 3 shukas each (the typical amount that one wears), a belt and a stick.

Immediately, we were the hit of the market. Where before people gave us cold stares (the maasai are intimidating people), now everyone, old men and women, children, everyone, greeted us with enthusiasm. They were so happy to see that we too could dress as maasai. I told everyone "mimi ni maasai, mimi ni morani." I am a maasai, i am a warrior. And they all love it. Old women would come to us and sing for us, encouraging us to dance and also jump. Maasai men jump to see who can get the highest. For a good 5 hours, everyone came to talk to us, in some cases, followed us around. They were very pleased that we embraced their culture so.

It was truly a highlight of the trip. A much needed one after the sub par days in Zanzibar (although I am not complaining, I have nothing but fun, if not bitter sweet memories). The maasai are truly beautiful people. Despite the fact that the women make holes in their ears big enough to fit a baseball, they shave their heads, tattoo their faces, and neither the men nor the women brush their teeth, they are still beautiful. It is truly the feeling that drives you to understand that our differences are what make us beautiful. I could spend a year with the maasai, I enjoy them so much.

The following day Godfrrey took me on a hike to see the colobus monkeys. Nathan could not go because of blisters on his feet. I dressed in full maasai gear. Godfrey, like all maasai, is very tall and very thin. Probably 6'3" with a 26 inch waist. Together, we walked at a ridiculously fast pace, covering 5 miles in about1.5 hours, mind you that it is uphill, on a rough trail. When we got to the top of the hill where the colobus are, there were many maasais and the monkeys were no where to be seen. So Godfrey led me into the jungle. We would have to use my machete (how cool is that?) just to blaze a trail. Finally we saw them. They are amazing animals, monkeys that are black and white. They look like skuns only really hairy and they jump around the tops of trees. No pictures to show but it was great to get to see them.

We walked back, again to the amusement of the maasai as they saw their mzungu maasai morani. Godrfry told me that the women are "tempted" by me. It was fun!

Again, the trip is something that I will always remember. A perfect guide, a great experience and millions of great memories. It was once again sad to leave a place that we got so used to and enjoyed so much but that is the theme of our trip.

We took a bus from Arusha to Nairobi and I thought for sure I was on my death bus. The roads were the worst we've seen and the driver went 120 kph the whole way, passing trucks by going offroad which to be honest was as good as the main road). We would speed up for 40 meters and then slam on the brakes for a peed bump, over and over again. It was crazy. Once I hit my head on the roof because we hit a bump so ahrd.

We arrived and started planning for Lake Turkana, the alst great adventure of the trip, and to our surprise, were told that it would take at least 10 days round trip. since the famous scientist, Louise leakey, told me that I must be gone by the 15th, we will have to leave ASAP. So, without further announcement, Nathan and I will truly be in the bush, on the greatest adventure of our lives, beginning in just a few hours.

I am sorry that I cannot say more about it but I encourage you to research koobi fora and sibiloi national park to find out where we are going. We rented a rav4 and will be driving off road for about 1000 k's. Only a compass and a map as our guide. If you think of us in the next few days, know that we are probably somewhere in the desert taking the adventure of our young lives. Don't expect a blog for the next 10 days.

Lots of love to family and friends. I will enjoy your emails, messages and prayers.

Update

2007-07-03T22:46:00.000-07:00

All it said was:

"Dear Adam, Unfortunately Dr. Leakey will not be available in July."

And my hopes were shattered.

Not much has happened since the last blog beyond reading, writing, and researching. I sat on the deck for the ferry ride back, right on the front of the boat, and got drenched by waves. It was nice because it was so hot outside and the water is crystal clear.

The drive up from Dar es Salaam to where we are now in Arusha was beautiful. One of the more breathtaking moments was driving along side Mt. Kilimanjaro. The mountain is very impressive. 19,000 feet basically coming up from sea level. It is VERY tall and very beautiful. It is the only mountain around so it stands out, rising from the plains.

We will be spending the next 3 days with the Maasai people, in their village. To learn mroe about these people see the link on the right.

Bad times

2007-07-01T07:37:00.000-07:00

So much has happened since the last blog that it will be very difficult to fill you in on everything. But let me begin, and trust me, so many crazy stories, I swear you wont believe it all.

The first thing we did in Zanzibar was swim in the Indian Ocean. The water comes down from the equator which makes it some of the warmest water in the world. It is really very nice. But the first night we stayed in Stone Town, which is the "urban" piece of the island, and anything urban in Africa often also means filthy. The beaches were very narrow and honestly, not much to look at.

Our hostel was 200 meters from the beach but it would take us 20 minutes to find our way. Stone Town has got to be the most interesting city I have ever seen. The streets are only about 5 feet wide and every building is conected to its surrounding buildings (no spaces). On top of that, the streets are all windy and fragmented so the small city is literally a maze. I should bring you the map of Stone Town, it takes you a few minutes just to find your way out of the center on a map!

We went out after dark and walked down to the market place. There were thousands of people, probably 30% tourists, enjoying street cooked seafood and local dishes. It was really good but everything in Zanzibar is very expensive. There is no such thing as a good deal. We ran into some people that we met in Malawi and we were excited that we were going to get to hang out some more. That first night was fun but very melo because we knew that the next day was going to be big since there was a "full moon party" on the north side f the island. We walked home and got lost and Nathan asked a guy where "Jambo guest house" was. Jambo means hello, and the guy just kep saying "Jambo!" with a big smile, thinking Nathan just kept saying hello to him. It was hilarious.

The next morning we arranged to rent mopeds and ride around the island. We got up and around and told the moped guy to meet us at our hostel at 8. He arrived at 8:30, took our money and then went to get the bikes. He returned at 10 but our friends (the ones from Malawi) wanted to join and so we had to wait for one of the most annoying girls in the world to get her moped. She swore that she had riddin one before but when her bike arrived the first thing she did was crash it into the curb after riding it for about ten feet. I knew that we would be babysitting her the entire time.

Finally, at noon, we set off. Now, to drive this heap of junk I would have to teach myself bpth how to ride a motorcycle and also use a clutch (it was a 4 speed) all while driving for the first time on the left side of the road. In africa, roads are wide enough for two cars (one in each drection) but the people manage to make it a 4 lane free for all. Within 30 minutes of stalling, jerking around, and nearly crashing, I had the biggest scare of the trip. I went to make a right turn and as I turned right the car behind me passed me on the right side. I began to turn as it whizzed by at about 80 kph. I was literally 2 inches from the car. I had to pull over and take a deep breath. I was 2 inches from a very messy accident.

The first 2 hours were very nerve racking. Nathan had teased me about not knowing how to ride a motorcycle but from the start I was much better at it than him. He kept salling and could never get his bike to start. I thought that was really funny.

After we left the busy part of the city, things calmed down. The road became completely vacant and the scenery was beautiful. I am not the type of guy that gets off on adrenaline sports or things like moped riding but it was fun enough to see this island. If it were just me I would have taken more time to just explore the beautiful landscape and villages, instead of racing passed them at lightning s[peed. But oh well.

The island is smaller than oahu but we spent most of the day trying to figure out where we were. Right before nightfal we arrived at our new hostel in the north. We had to stay 3 k's from the full moon party becausse accomdation was sold out everywhere else. It would prove to be a real drag. We rode one bike (dumb and dumber style) over toward the beach with the party and it was 100 times better than our beach and 100,000 times better than stone town. Actually, it was picture perfect. White sand, beautiful resorts, clear water, calm water, palm trees, it was beautiful. And there were young people everywhere. We were very excited.

We ate dinner and met some canadians that invites us over for some hookah. It was a good 2 or 3 hours of interesting conversations. The canadians were muslims, there was a jewish brit and then myself to offer some christian theology. Of course, I always enjoy religion convesations. And these people seemed to as well.

Around 11 or so we headed over t the party and started tossing back a few beers. I only had 3 the whole night but it was enough to get me dancing (just a bit). Nathan somehow got smashed and couldn't stand up straight. We partied until about 3:30 and then started going back. Our friend was going to drive us back but his car was blocked by some asshole that doesn't know how to park properly. So we went back to our friends' room to make a plan. We feel asleep but when they all came back to go to bed we were kicked out. We hired a taxi back for 10 bucks and then when we arrived Nathan realized that he forgot the key. I was so pissed. The hostel didn't have a backup key and we had no way of getting back there. It was 3 k's the way the crow flly's but probably 7 k's on the road. I was so angry that I just went to the beach and layed down. I got bitten by 100 mosquitos. Nathan went walking (in his drunkenness) rtying to right his mistake. I'm not sure what happened but he rreturned with blood on his legs. By 6 the sun was starting to come up (that gave me about 1 hour of mosquito bitten sleep) and then it was enough. Nathan said that he was sober enough to ride the moped over (on a 4wd road) to get the key. It took about an hour and a half but finally he arrived, like don quixote, with the key. I was filthy, mosquitos had feasted on me from head to toe, and I just crashed on my bed. I woke up at 11 and it was time to get out of there. I was in such a bad mood.

We went and grabbed a bite to eat but not before Nathan's moped broke down. We had to walk it about 1k in pouring rain. We were completely soaked. I'm not sure what happened while he went to retreive the key but whatever it was, his bike was never the same. We had to take it to a mechanic and wait for him to fix it. We ate lunch at a restaurant, getting attention from everyone since we were soaked and looked pathetic (once again I was wearing the same outfit for 4 days). The mechanic fixed the bike and we were off. After driving about 2 k's we were stopped by one of the many roadblocks. Only this time, the cop found some superficial flaw with my license, an "offense" and was threatening to write a ticket. Then he mentioned bribe. We offered 5,000 (about 5 bucks) and he said to just act like we dropped itin case someone was watching. I was so pissed at this S.O.B. He was an insult to the human race.

We were off but shortly after my bike ran out of gas. There aren't gages so we had no idea how much was leftt. I had to sit at the side of the road while nathan fetched some gas. It was about 30 minutes or so.

After that we were off again and once again we ran into a roadblock. This cop was even more of a prick. Another superficial problem with the bikes and he took the keys and our licenses. He told us that he was an honest man and that he doesn't take bribes, but... if we were willing to give him some money he would pay the ticket. What a nice guy, huh? It's not a bribe it's a payment. We offered 5,000 and he laughs, not nearly enough. It is all we have. After about 30 minutes of interrogation, and mind you that this guy is uneducated, can't talk straight, think straight, or even speak english, he lets us go for 5,000. 20 minutes later the clutch on my moped broke. My bike went down like a ship in sight of land. Just 1 k from our hostel. I walked it the rest of the way.

I can't explain how frustrating this trip to zanzibar was. It had so much potential and it was all wasted. What's worse, it was by far the most expensive leg of the trip. By far. This blog is too long and i am getting upset just remembering these things. Hopefully I cheer up by tomorrow.

Wake up Call

2007-06-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-28T07:45:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-25T00:08:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-23T04:24:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-06-17T06:49:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-14T01:51:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-13T01:15:00.001-07:00

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

2007-06-12T08:22:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-07T02:53:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-07T02:42:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-06-07T02:25:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-07T02:06:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-07T01:49:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

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.

Urgent cry for help

2007-05-30T10:42:00.000-07:00

I arrived at my hostel and did my usual routine. When I got a chance to check the internet, I visited a few sites that I haven't seen for a while. Myspace, bbc. I wanted to blog about the exciting day that I have just had. But let me paraphrase it: We met up with some really cool Germans, we are doing Kruger park with them in a very cool microbus, and we are in the bush.

But something more urgent has come up and I need to blog and let my friends and family know I need their help.

Is Kobe asking for a trade?

Zach, Dave, Jeff, Sheila, even Patrick (although I'm warning you Patrick, be gentle, our friendship is on the line), write me a few very long, detailed emails about what is going on. I need facts, rumours, details, etc.

Kobe, if you are reading this (and I did send him the link)... WTF? And if it is true, and I believe that if it is true you must have a good reason for asking out, than consider... just consider, the Nuggs. We need you.

Yes, I am in Africa, with my friend and sister, but this... this is as big as it gets for me. I don't know if I can enjoy the rest of my trip, knowing what is going on in the mother city.

Vacancy

2007-05-29T13:35:00.000-07:00

I am listening to Neil Young while riding across the Eastern province. In the same way that hotdogs and hamburgers taste better when cooked over a camp fire, Neil young sounds better as a soundtrack to this beautiful drive. His voice sounds sadder and of course, this I like.

Tiffany has arrived but her bags have not yet. They shou8ld get in tomorrow. Fortunately, the hostel that we were recommended to has not only been helpful, but an experience all its own. The owners are Bruce and Gerdie, two beautiful people that are eager to both accommodate us and shoot the breeze over a bottle of wine. Or in their cases, 3 bottles of wine. And as is always the case, wine opens the heart and the mouth.

After several enjoyable hours of what would seem to like small talk amongst old friends, the wine drove the conversation to more personal matters. Africa, apartheid, race, poverty, pessimism, and the more ambiguous points of life. Bruce has lived in South Africa his entire life and worked as a transportation engineer for 38 years. He has seen a lot of things happen in his country throughout the years. Undeniably, he is pessimistic about the future.

For most, the conversation would become uncomfortable. Bruce has some interesting perspectives, some which I strongly disagree with. The wine provides a great deal of political incorrectness.

But I like Bruce. And I respect him. And I can tell that he feels the same way about me. And I believe that he has a good heart. But anyone that has grown up in South Africa, in Johannesburg (Jozzie) for the last 50 years will have a different perspective than my own. Tonight, for the first time, I get to listen to this perspective.

And after a trip to the moving museum of Apartheid, and a terrifying drive through central Jozzie...

Gerdie wanted to show us the "real" Jozzie and so after picking us up from the museum she drove us through central Jozzie. Explaining that through the apartheid years, downtown (or central) Jo'berg was a beautiful metropolis. Business was booming, and the city was decorated with wonderful architecture. From the highway, this is still the impression you get. Come closer and notice that the buildings and skyscrapers are all abandoned.

Jo'berg is bigger than downtown Los Angeles. Imagine that every building is vacant. Most with broken windows and boards to patch vandalisms. The only space that is used is the ground floor of each building.

After apartheid the city was invaded by thieves, drug dealers and violence. The city became too dangerous and the businesses vacated the buildings. Today the city is lawless. The police don't venture into the center. It is too dangerous for them. Gerdie locks the doors as we begin to drive through. We are the only white people in sight. The street is flooded with people. One guy looks like he is seriously ill. He eyes are car suspiciously. The street backs up. Something is going on. What are we waiting for for so long? Finally we see. In front of us, some thugs demand payment from a car with out of town license plates. Refusal to pay will result in smashing the windows. We spend nearly 20 terrifying minutes downtown.

... I can start to understand the thoughts and feelings that Bruce has. He is not a racist or a jerk. But he knows that there are terrible truths about the state of South Africa. Apartheid, and every form of segregation, is shameful. But the end of apartheid has only brought on a new set of challenges.

From the beginning of this trip I have noticed something troublesome about this country. From a distance, this country is like Jo'berg central. It would seem that a mix of cultures and a good infrastructure would make for a wonderfully diverse place. But come closer and I see that there is a lot of things that divide the people here. Racism, prejudice and suffering plagues this country. I would love to believe that the end of apartheid is some huge milestone for this country. And it is. But there are growing prejudices and concerns over the direction that this country is going.

My head is very full. I will need a very long time to sort out my thoughts. It is made even more difficult by the violent images that we are confronted with on the drive to Nelspruit. A minibus taxi smashed to pieces. A dead body lying on the ground. Our shuttle (first class) follows the ambulance for 15 minutes. The injured must surely be suffering unimaginably. So many people in this country that suffer, denied the most basic human rights.

Don't expect an update from me for a while. I will be "in the bush" for a week. But great photos are soon to follow. We are headed into Kruger park with a German couple that we met in Lesotho.

Footnotes: We saw a herd of Zebras on the way up. Nathan and I saw a bunch of monkeys. They were awesome.

Jumela Me

2007-05-27T12:51:00.000-07:00

Hopefully the slopyness of the last blog and the spelling errors allows you to understand how pressed for time I am to write these blogs. It is difficult to find internet and when I do finally find a place it can get pricey. But nonetheless, I enjoy it and I hope you do too!

After the traditional healer we all went horse riding. 2 hours cost 7 dollars! What a deal. It was a great way to experience the surrounding villages. Everyone stares at us while we pass but again, just shouting out to them in their language shows them a bit of respect and they almost always repay you with a smile.

I mentioned our guide and the two Dutch girls that we went up with because they really were great to have along. I prefer doing things independently but both times that I have hired a guide I have been happy. One example of our spirit on this trip. On the ride home we started singing pop songs from the last 5 decades and everyone in the car was screaming out to the tunes of the Beatles, Temptations, Eagle Eye Cherry and many more. It was great fun. It was a great cultural experience but also a great time to just have fun with cool, interesting people. This trip deserved two blogs and so much more because the truth is, there is so much to talk about.

In closing, last night a guy told me that he has been traveling for 5 weeks and that the time has just flown by. For me, I have had 16 wonderful days in Africa and it feels like it has been 3 months. It isn't because I am bored, but Nathan and I wake up everyday at sunrise, and pack so much into each day. At night we usually spark conversation amongst the backpackers and dont get to sleep until 11 or midnight. That, along with missing Sheila makes the time here seem very long. But I am glad. So much has happened that I will have plenty to talk about for quite some time. This blog is only an appetizer to the stories I can tell!

Shoutouts: Asian - for writing the best comment on my blog (see Jewsuems blog), David - for writing me, Patrick - for writing me, Abi - for driving us to the hostel today safely, Matthew - for being a great guide, Inga and MJ - for the laughs and good times and also the moose game, Volkmar - For ping pang pong (it will be sweeping the states in 2 months) and of course to Sheila - the most beautiful woman on any continent!

Jumela Dade

2007-05-27T04:03:00.000-07:00

The past 4 days have been spent in an isolated town near the Lesotho boarder. When we booked the night, we didn't realize that Sani Lodge was in the middle of nowhere, that we would arrive without cash or groceries and that there was no easy way to get either of these things. No internet (which is why i am playing catch up) no transportation, and no heating. At the abse of the mountains at the start of winter, it was cold!

The highlight of the week, and possibly the trip, was the overnight cultural trip that we signed up for that would take us into the nmountain kingdom of Lesotho (pronounced, Le sue too). We would be accompanied by 2 Dutch girls who deserve mention, Inga and MJ, and our guide, Matthew. We became acquainted the night before by playing silly card games and we all got along wonderfully!

To get to Lesotho you must pass through the Drakensberg mountains, which are impressive rocky shelves that overlook the flatlands of Zululand. 75 % of the country is mountains and the enviornment is made harsh by the altitude and cold.

The people of Lesotho live very traditional lives. They farm corn and wheat, raise cattle and goats, and live in round huts made of mud and cow dung. But despite the harsh envioronment, the people are very warm and lovely. Calling out "Jumela Dade" (hello father, a sign of respect) to the men, or "Jumela me" to the women, always earns a bright smile and a wave along with a jumble of words I cannot understand. OUr host greets us at his home with a bright smile. His short arms extend to greet us with the 3 part handshake that symbolizes peace, rain and prosperity; the staple of Lesotho life.

He quickly welcomes us inside his home for warmth of a fire that is fueled by cow dung. The hut is smokey and i can hardly breathe but he is very proud to have us.

At night we explore the village played with teh kids, and then were treated to singing and dancing by the women. They all sing and dance wildly. Their voices aren't perfect but it still soudns nice because of the way that they belt it out. Their dancing is VERY impressive. Shoulders move in ways I can't explain. And their butts shake in ways that neither Nathan nor myself could master, although we would try several time, much to the delight of the women of the village. The songs are very personal chants about the village, prayers for rain and homage tot he ancestors.

I should mention that none of this seems touristy. Tourism is new to Lesotho so the people are not very acustomed to people coming into their village and watching them. But it is equally uncomfortable at first as it is unbelievably interesting. Soon, everyone lightens up and we are able to really experience their way of life.

At night we drink locally brewed bear and play a few games with one of our hosts. He is very anxious to show us his marijuana plant, whcih he is very proud of. The next morning I visit a traditional healer. She tells me that I get head aches sometime and sometimes my stomache is upset. She is right! I ask ehr what my ancestors think of me and if they are proud. She tells me that they are laughing and that they are glad that I asked. They always watch over me and will keep me safe throughout my trip. Although I don't believe, it is strangley comforting. I pay her 25 cents.

Time is up. To be continued...

Willy's Express

2007-05-27T03:50:00.000-07:00

Willy's Express. The only shuttle service available for us for the 100 K htrek from Pietermaritzburg (a tounge twister of a town) to our destination; Sani lodge at the base of the Drakensberg mountains.

Having experienced minibus taxis and crowded buses we knew that we were prepared for whatever "willy's express" might entail. We were especially suspicious given the fact that our hospitality guide in Pietermaritzburg is 13 years old. I'm not joking, she was 13. And very smart for ehr age. But it was wierd doing business with a 13 year old. But to her credit she was very professional. Strange huh?

Willy arrives. He looks like RObin Williams on speed. He's got a heavy accent and tiny white shorts on. He's that simple type of fella that always has a (drunken) smile on his face. I know right away that this will be a bumpy ride.

He shows us the shuttle. A 1984 toyota corola that hasn't been serviced for a decade. His wife and grandson are in the front seat. You see, it turns out, Willy's express is just Willy's corola. And Willy lives near Sani lodge and occassionally drives into Pietermaritzburg. But this is Africa, so Willy's express is a tenured shuttle service.

But Willy's express is not a straight shot to Sani. We realize that when we stop at an office supply store, 45 seconds into the trip. "I've just got to pick up a few things in town." Nathan and I realize that we will be running errands for the next 3 hours. 1) Office store 2) Tile Shop 3) Gas 4) Groceries 5) Bathroom 6) Daughter's house 7) Sani Lodge

The car has a terrible gas leak and the exhaust blows straight into my face in the backseat. I can hardly breathe. I'm choking on gas and start to think to myself, a small spark could light this car on fire.

Then Willy asks, "Mind if I smoke?" It is a rhetorical question, the cigarette is already lit.

But Willy is a good guy. We chat for the entire 3 hours and learn a bit about life in his home town of Underberg. How affirmative action has cost him his job as the post master. How the paved roads are goign to ruin this town. He asks, "why is England wealthier than Africa? Africa has all kinds of open land right?" I'm not sure I follow. "I mean, where does all of their money go, anyway?" I have no idea what he is talking about.

We arrive after sunset. Pay Willie 200 Rand, (about 30 US dollars). And tip our hat to the finest shuttle service in Pietermaritzburg; Willy's Express.

Lost in Translations

2007-05-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

First off let me just say that I have an amazing sense of direction. Time and again I have found my way around the trickiest places here in Africa, without the luxury of a map, street signs, or anything else. I must have a GPS somewhere in my brain.

One highlight that I wanted to mention about this trip has been the people that I've met. The blog is mostly events and things but most of the fun is just meeting interesting people. Hanging out at hostels for the last week or so has been neat because we have met people from all over the world. Sitting around a camp fire or a pool table, listening to dozens of accents get thrown around. There is really no need to introduce yourself. It seems irrelevant to mention your name because you'll only know these people for a day or two. Just dive into conversation about whatever. Where you going? Where you been? Some people are funny, some are smart, some are strange, some are rude. It's like one night stands, only no sex.

At the last hostel we stayed at in P.E., it was like a little party of strangers. No one knew the person next to them very well but you wouldn't know it. We just hang out all day the last day talking about things as if we were all great friends. A british old guy that threw books into the fire, had everyone cracking up. partly because he had the heaviest British accent, partly because he was 40 and partly because he was just a funny guy. A couple swiss girls, a bunch of dutchmen, and a handful of P.E. ers and it was a little party. Several accents and perspectives. Hosteling is great fun!

We are in Durban now. The city is large and hectic. People are everywhere and you can't walk without rubbing shoulders with the person next to you. It is a dirty city but I enjoyed walking around it all day. Nathan and I ate a sausage from a street vendor which was probably the least sanitary thing I've done so far on this trip. But it was not bad and cost less than 2 dollars.

Hanging out here for the night with some Germans that seem pretty cool. Then it's off to Drakensburg (dragon mountains)!!!

Through a glass window darkly

2007-05-21T14:03:00.001-07:00

13 hour drive from Port Elizabeth to Durban via the Translux 1st Class bus. My first real chance to catch images of rural South Africa.

I can't stop looking out my window. I am addicted to it. I always have been, ever since the days of riding in the backseat on camping trips, with the constant impulse to look for wildlife. This time I spot a few antelopes but I am not sure exactly what type they were. Probably some Elands and a few bush boks.

Soon enough I don't notice the wildlife anymore. Once you get far enough outside of the city it begins to feel like you've gone back in time. White people are no longer seen. Only the faces of people that fight everyday for the most meager life.

Run down huts hardly provide shelter. It is a cold windy day on the "sunshine coast" and old women wrap themselves in rugs and blankets as they stood in line for bread and fruit. Children huddle around a fire in the lawn.

Driving through this, or rather past this, I realize that I can never truly empathize with these people. And thankfully so. In the saddest way possible I feel very lucky.

I look out at a man through the glass of the bus. Like everyone else so far, he spots me right away. I stick out as the only white passenger on the bus. And everyone that spots me pauses for a moment to watch me pass by for just a few seconds.

Looking at me wandering the same things that I am. How did I get this lot in life? And what must life be like on the other side of the glass? Every person that spots me stares and then gives this same stare, thinking this same thing. For just a few seconds and then I am gone.

I came to Africa knowing that this is what life is like for some. But looking through the glass is eerie. It's indescribable, and I apologize if this seems poetic or bombastic. I don't mean it to be but I'm writing this as I ride along.

And then there is this look of shame and guilt, from both of us. From them for the condition of their town, their clothes, their bodies. They look at me like life is just a habit that they can't seem to kick. For me the shame anyone would feel when you look at another human being like this through the window of a first class bus. You feel guilty for being so lucky.

For me I can't stop looking out my window. But there is still 500 miles of this ahead. And thousands more eyes to catch mine, from the other side of the glass.

Footnotes: Tomorrow I will be more upbeat and write a happier blog. We are in Durban and safe. I take back everything I said about South African's knowing how to cook Mexican food. We both smell pretty poor, most of the time. My beard is getting long and sexy. New Photos are up!

Super 14

2007-05-20T05:53:00.000-07:00

The people in Port Elizabeth are as nice as advertised. First we went to a restaraunt and had a "California" pizza that tasted like ntohing I've ever seen in Califronia or anywhere else. Our waitress was very nice. We sat and talked with her and another waiter and got the scoop about what to do in P.E. They were super cool. They even ivited us back for drinks later that night when the restaraunt becomes a bar. We said we'd love to and took off to explore the city.

It so happened that it was the day of the Super 14, the super bowl of Rugby and for the first time 2 South African teams were in the final. We waved down this guy wearing a Manchester United shirt and asked him where a good place to watch the game would be and he laughed at us. "Every bar is showing the game, are you serious?" He invited us to come with him and his 2 friends since they were going to the bar right then. We said of course and so we hopped in the back of their car. Turns out it was the dudes bachelor party and we just got invited!

We arrived at the bar after kickoff and the place was already going crazy. Jam packed bar, understaffed, we stood in the back row watching a big screen. I ordered a round of beers for everyone (for like 5 dollars total) and the party began. These dudes just brought us in like we were best friends for years. Nathan and I didn't understand the game and to be honest, I don't think they really even cared so we just stood around telling crazy stories while drinking giant beer after beer. The guys were hilarious.

Soon a bunch of the bachelor's friends started arriving and we met every one of them. The game was very close adn with one minute to go the Sharks (my new favorite Rugby team) scored to put the game nearly out of reach. All that was left was one play. We started celebrating and everyone was happy. Then on the last play, the Bulls went the entire length of the field for only their third score of the game. They won as time expired. It was crazy. But fortunately, our new friends were not distraught, just needed another beer and a slap in the face, whcih is exactly what happened, they started slapping each other in the face.

One fan for the bulls, a man that was about 6'5'' 280, rugby looking guy, gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Everyone was very happy and so we went to a new bar to catch the soccer game between Manchester United and Chelsea. We were going for Man. United but once again they lost... in overtime. These guys were grade A partiers and they took over the bar, being loud obnoxious and just pure fun. Nathan and I probably spoke with everyone in the bar and we were certainly one of everyone's highlights of the night. We stayed at this bar until nearly 11 and then it was time to go out to the club, which we were promised to get into for free since we had made friends with one of the bouncers.

However, Nathan and I are not in the same class as these blokes and could not handle any more partying. We had been at it since 3 (when the game started) and by 11 we were ready to go crash. They begged us to come along and I said, "yeah, we'll be there in a minute." and then we took off for our hostel. Those guys were crazy, I have no idea how they can party so hard. But it was an awesome night. We were welcomed in to their celebration, met all of their friends, and for no real reason. People out here are really nice. It was awesome. But I paid the price, I have been in bed all day long! I just don't have the stamina for that type of partying. Those blokes were crazy!

Footnotes: Natahn and I have both picked up accents, mine is a surfer accent, nathan's is a bit british. Neither one sounds good, but it is mostly beyond our control.

South African Malibu

2007-05-19T04:32:00.000-07:00

Blogging has been slow, not because I am dead, in prison, or in some remote part of Africa, but because the last few days have been 'a boring. We left Cape Town and headed for a place called Wilderness where we "rested" for about 3 days. Wilderness is a beach town with summer homes and B&B's and noting else. We were the only ones in the hostel one night. The place was dead. The best I can offer you in the way of stories is one day we made a sand castle (actually it was a giant penis) and the other day we stayed up shooting the breeze with a German dude with the coolest slang/accent of all time. He was a surfer and had a combo of south African and Aussie accents with a bit of a German accent. It sounded like Russel crowe if he played a german surfer. We spoke for hours and all I can tell you about him and that he has lived in Wilderness for 3 years, loves surfing and hanging out with hippies.

But Wilderness was boring and I did not pay money to come lay out on a beach. I came to see Africa. That being said, I think Nathan enjoyed the town and so the Bowles family and other members of "team Bowles" should take this with a grain of salt.

Now we are in Port Elizabeth and will be here for just one day. We are ahead of schedule a bit with both our timing and spending and so we need to slow down. Unfortunately, public transport is monopolized by a terrible company called Bazbus. They cater to so called "backpackers" because they provide safe transport directly to hostels. However, they cost nearly 4 or 5 times the price of regular transport. Even by US standards they are expensive. It kind of takes away the feeling of backpacking. But Nathan and I will probably give in because we don't want to arrive in a city at midnight, 3 miles from our hostel like we did in Wilderness.

P.E. is very nice and we have already met some nice folks, locals, who we will probably hang out with while downing pints of jemjam's (a local cocktail) and watching the Rugby championship where for the first time 2 South African teams are in the final!

Footnotes: I saw a wild ostrich. I have learned a bit of Xhosa. We played pool with a cool dude from P.E. that beat me with his eyes closed, literally.

South African Bus Stop

2007-05-16T23:01:00.000-07:00

Two days ago we left Cape Town to travel up the coast on what is called "The Garden Route." Our first stop is a small town called Wilderness. It is a one stop light town built for summer homes and B&B's. We got here by taking the first class bus (like a greyhound) for 110 Rand (nearly 18 dollars). The bus was a lot like busses in the US only it stopped at KFC when the driver got hungry. And also, the driver drove righ pass the bus stop in Wilderness because he forgot we were going there and instead dropped us off on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere at 10 PM.

We had to walk to a gas station where we asked if we could call a taxi. The people laughed and said no taxi's drive this late. So we asked a guy for a ride and he was glad to help out. We were lucky cause it would have been a 3 or 4 km hike in the dark, in the cold, and it was fairly difficult to find.

Backtracking... the people on the bus were very nice. One guy tried to get Nathan to flirt with a beautiful girl right next to him. It was hilarious. I sat next to a young girl that tought me some Zulu and also Xosa (sounds like "click" c/t osa).

We also met a young man named Donovan who had come from Tanzania in search of a better life. It broke my heart to talk to him. He came up to me with the brightest smile you have ever seen. He had this happiness and optimism in his eyes. I must have looked affable because he came right to me and introduced himself. He showed me how to give a proper handshake; around the thumb, the hand, and then snap your thumbs together. I showed him the fist pound and he seemed to like it. I asked him where he was going and he said to George, a tiny city about 5 hours outside of Cape Town, where he will hopefully find a shelter before dark. It was already very cold and hopefully he wouldn't have to stay outside before looking for work in the morning. He only had a raggy suit jacket to keep him warm. I don;t write all of this to make you feel sad, but it is an interesting story of the economic climate for many Africans in cape town. Many people stand on corners hoping for someone to pick them up for a days work. Somedays they get picked up, somedays not. The going rate is 100 Rand per day.

A bit more about cape town. There are so many different groups of people who speak so many different languages. Enlgish is a common language in that most people can speak some English but it is rarely the first language. Afrikaans is a type of Dutch that is spoken by most of the whites and colored( I'll explain later) people. And then there are a majority of the black people that speak either Xosa, Zulu, or dozens of other languages. On our bus ride we were the only white people on board. But the girl next to me spoke primarily Zulu. The driver spoke Xosa along with the majority. But many other people spoke other languages. The language barrier is very strange, it obviously causes divisions among the people.

Colored people are people of mixed blood. Either back from the colonial days or whenever, they are considered colored. Blacks are the full blooded African people.

Today we are off to the beaches of Wilderness. Pictures will come soon but just think of Malibu, without Mel Gibson driving drunk through the streets, and you will know where we are. In a few days we will hitch hike to Knysa, a slightly bigger town and check it out there for a few days. One final quickie: One of the guys that works at the backpackers dorm is a german with a crazy accent and an even crazier slang. Every sentence ends with "boo" which he uses like "dude." He is a surfer, if that helps....

Jewseums, Mexican Food and Asians!

2007-05-14T06:33:00.000-07:00

I really need to stay on top of this blog because so much happens that one day off will force me to write a painfully long blog. So be prepared...

Yesterday we went into the city again and wanted to check out a human evolution exhibit at the Jewish Museum (a Jewseum, if you will). When we arrived we were placed into a small tour that had just began with a small Jewish woman named.... drumroll.... Sheila! She was short and had dark hair (just like my Sheila), but she was 70 years old and Jewish. The tour was awesome, Sheila was a great guide and she spoke with a unique meter (like poetry) and was an encyclopedia of information. In short, Jews arrived in Cape Town to escape the Nazi's and have done fairly well for themselves out here.

We had lunch in the garden park that is in the city and listened to the same musicians as the day before. It must be where they go to write music, as they said it, their 'laboratory.' Then we heard some clapping and singing and, seeing how it was Sunday, we assumed it was church related and went to check it out. We got close and soon we were in the middle of it. Beautiful singing, all men singing, clapping their hands like a sort of gospel chant. Then we noticed a bride and groom and realized it was a wedding, and we were standing right in the middle of it. It was really awesome. Everyone seemed really happy an they sounded great. We watched it for a bit and then left.

I called Sheila and it was great because I had not heard her voice for nearly 5 days and it was a relief to get to talk to her.

We finished the night with a 5 K walk up a beautiful beach side that reminded me of San Diego. We paid a boat load to take a taxi back because the mini taxi's become very sketchy at night. For dinner we found a little Mexican restaurant and decided to check it out. I had nachos and let me tell you, the South African's really know their Tex Mex. You wouldn't guess it, especially since our waitress didn't speak English or Spanish but rather Zulu, Zutu, and other languages.

Today we hired a tour guide to take us to Cape of Good Hope. It was by far the most 'tourist' I have felt but it was worth it. Our guide was a white man named Warren who was just a cool guy. He has lived in Cape Town for 40 years and he knew his stuff as well as just letting me and Rootbeer be ourselves.

To start, Warren suggested that we take a short boat ride to see some seals and stuff. It sounded lame but we did it because we felt like he wanted us to. First I should mention that his Mercedes van was built for 8 but we were the only ones who booked for today. So we boarded the boat thinking we might be the only ones on it. Enter Asians. About 30 of them, all women. It was like an episode of MXE. We sent out and the Asains started going crazy. Giggling, and taking photos of the silliest things. Each other, the boat, the water, it didn't matter, they were hilarious. Nathan and I watched them for the majority of the 20 minute tour and at the end I asked if I could take a picture with them. They went nuts. Immediately they all wanted individual photos with us. One on each side. Nathan and I posed for about 100 photos. I am not sure why they were so excited about us but they loved it. Everyone was gathered around for about 15 minutes. It was hilarious. Somewhere in China there will be about 100 photos of us circulating. I really wish I knew why we were such an attraction.

Finally, we saw the cape and it was beautiful. Steep cliffs, crashing waves, and clear water. But in an instant, the sunshine turned to pouring rain and we became drenched as we walked the quarter mile back to the tour van.

This tour also marked a couple of firsts for me. First monkey, a baboon, first African ungulate, a BantoBak, and also the mighty Eland, a giant antelope about the size of a moose. It has been an expensive week but we only have one day left in Cape Town. Tomorrow we will go wine tasting and check out the wine country, supposedly very green and beautiful. Thank you for the comments and to let you know, there are plenty more pictures online now. The uploading process is very slow but today has been the first major break we have had since arriving.

Love,

Adam

Singing and Dancing

2007-05-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was another great day. Beautiful weather! Nathan and I decided to go to the Waterfront and check out what was going on there. The waterfront is a lot like 3rd street in Santa Monica with performers and shops.

We spent most of the day in silence with our jaws dropped. The city can have a very strong vibe to it. One group of performers in particular were amazing. They were young Zulu dancers. They sang in Afrikaans (dutch mixed with native African languages) and danced like I've never seen. I kept this part in there even though it makes me sound like an idiot. The dancers were actually Xhosas and the language that they speak is Xhosa. It is amazing to me how little I knew about South Africa before I went there. Afrikaans is spoken by the Afrikaners and the so called coloured people. What an idiot, huh? Their voices were not perfect but they sounded great anyway, they sang with such power, belting out every word. Their dancing was even more energetic. 6 or 7 women and 7 or 8 guys, each dancing together in a sort of traditional dance that looked like freak dancing mixed with tap dancing, mixed with drumming dancing, mixed with 1000 grams of caffeine. It was amazing.

In fact, dancing and singing seems to be a large part of South African culture. people seem very free to dance and it seems to bring them such joy. We saw many people dancing in the city and all over the city parks.

We left the wharf after about 3 hours. 2 mini highlights, I saw about 10 jellyfish and now I am terrified to go in the water, and also the Nike store is the only store that is equally as expensive as the US.

Back at Cape Town city we walked around some more. The city is just fun to walk around. We spent some time in a giant garden in the middle of the city where they have 1,000 of exotic plants and trees and also some amazing birds. People just go to the park to relax and unwind. One group of guys must have been a musical group cause they were sitting around a guitar playing a song and just singing whatever came to mind. One guy had a paper and pen and would write down the words that came out. And they were amazing! Beautiful voices, in perfect harmony, singing in Afrikaans and it just sounded so good. I sat and listened to them for maybe 20 minutes. I really wish music and dancing were a larger part of American culture. As I write this, I can hear singing from outside where church has started. It sounds like gospel music.

Today we are off to Cape Town again for museums and apparently here is live music at the wharf tonight.

Love,

Adam

Planes, trains and minibuses

2007-05-11T14:02:00.000-07:00

So, I'm in Africa! A ten hour flight to London felt like 5 minutes. I boarded the plane, fell asleep, had a dream that I was in a plane crash and then woke up as we were flying over Ireland. It was strange. Moral of the story, 2x the does of sleeping pills will really knock you out.

Rootbeer was waiting for me in London and after 3 hours of hanging out in the airport we boarded for another 10 hour flight. Oddly enough, the time change worked out so that my second flight took off at exactly the same time as the first flight, 9:00 PM. We were serve a meal and everyone fell asleep. I had only been awake for about 4 hours so sleep was out of the question, even with 2 more sleeping pills. Fortunately, for yours truly, Nathan only slept for about 4 hours and the rest of the 6 hours were spent giving each other high fives and pumping ourselves up for the trip.

Finally, the arrival.

At first Cape Town looks like any other city. But not long after we left the airport (by a private taxi, 10 miles, 20 US dollars) you start to see the townships. They are mixed into the developed parts of the town, kind of like L.A., where rich and poor neighborhoods are separated by only a few yards. But besides the very clear presence of slums and shanty towns, Cape Town is a very gorgeous city.

We arrived with our host, Van Zijl (Fan Sale), a fellow couchsurfer who is hosting us for this first week in Cape Town. He is a very neat guy, fellow film maker, and a great host. Gave us a key to his house and has made us feel at home. We were pumped to "experience Africa" right away so we took off to catch a taxi into the city center. Van had advised us to take the minibus taxi's as they were the cheapest mode of transport.

So we walked to the street and a minibus (looks like an old VW hippie van) skidded across the busy traffic street to see if we wanted to go to Cape Town. The van already had 8 or so people in it, including a breast feeding mother, but for 6 Rand (about .90 US dollars) both Nathan and I could ride the 4 km's or so to the city. The ride was awesome! Packed into the bus like sardines, going 50 mph through traffic. Of course, we were the only white people on the van and we had tourists written all over us (camera's, backpacks, lost look on our faces) so the people on the bus started asking us where we were from. The 10 minute ride to the city was filled with friendly chit chat. our immediate thought was, people here are so nice.

When we arrived downtown, an old woman, about 60, overheard us talking about going to table mountain. For no reason at all she offered to show us where to catch the right minibus that would take us to the top. I could only understand about half of the words she said and we followed her for 5 minutes o so and I thought, "this must be a scam," but sure enough she arrived us at a minibus that took us up to the top. The minibus, once again overcrowded, cost a steep 15 Rand (2 bucks) and the woman just took off after helping us. We couldn't believe how helpful people were, for no reason at all!

Table mountain is amazing. Cape Town is between the ocean and the foot of Table Mountain, a giant rocky flat top shielding the city from the rest of the continent. Once at the top you can see for miles. The pictures don't do it justice (because I suck as photographer).

Back in the city Rootbeer asked what time it was. I said, "probably around 4 or 5, we should head back." He said, "I bet it's closer to 1 or 2." Turns out it was 11:45. Neither of us had a clue. So we stopped at a delicious pizza parlor and split a nice big pizza, 28 Rand (4 bucks).

The rest of the day was spent walking around the city. The city really lively. Hundreds of people line the streets, doing business, hanging out, doing whatever. It is awesome. We walked around for nearly 4 hours before really hitting the wall and nearly passing out. A coffee shop employee gave us a few pointers (everyone was so helpful and nice) and then we went t catch a minibus back to Observatory, a small suburb where we wil be staying.

Again, the bus was packed, this time with about a dozen people, and this time the driver was insane. He honked the horn 4,596 times in 23 minutes flat. A new world record. The horn meant: 1)get out of the way, 2)I'm not stopping' 3)anyone else want on? and ) screw you. He drove on the shoulder just to pass cars at a red light. It was unbelievable. We would approach a red light behind 6 cars and somehow be the first ones to cross once it turned green.

You should also know that minibus driving is a team sport. One driver and one guy on crowd control and promotion. The driver drives and doesn't talk to anyone while the backseat guy hangs out the side yelling at people to get on the bus, collects money, and pushes people out when they approach their stop. It is hustling at it's finest.

Unfortunately, we were the ones getting hustled. Not knowing our way around, we asked to be taken to UCT (univ. of Cape Town) where we could find our way to Van's house. The guys said okay and drove us for 30 minutes. then demanded more payment because it was so far away. Payment meant 1 more dollar so I said whatever. 20 minutes later we were in the middle of nowhere and I said how much further to UCT and he said not far. I turned around and asked a fellow passenger if they knew where UCT was and they said, "about 4 km's behind us, we passed it a long time ago."

I asked the driver if it was behind us and he just said, "yeah, way back there." We got out, hopped on another minibus, it got dark and eventually we got dropped off on campus. Unfortunately, it was the wrong campus and we ran around asking people if they knew how to get to the medical campus. We had to pose as UCT students and hop on the free shuttle which took us 4 km's to Van's house. It was... awesome!

Rootbeer and I laughed, came home and nearly passed out right then and there. We shot the breeze with Van for a while and now we are exhausted. Anyway, sorry for the rant but it was such a funny day that I felt the need to share. Tomorrow we are going to a few museums and probably explore Cape Town some more. XO to Sheila.

Love, Adam PS - note to Tiff, British Airways is the nicest airline and the flights were both the nicest flights I've ever been on.

5,000 Miles - Itinerary

2007-04-17T13:44:00.000-07:00

Date	Location	Total Miles Traveled
May 9th	Depart from Los Angeles
May 11th - May 16th	Cape Town, South Africa	less than 100 miles
May 17th - May 26th	Cape Town to Johannesburg	1,000 Miles
May 27th - June 5th	Kruger Park and Pretoria	1,550
June 6th - 10th	Pretoria to Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, to Victoria Falls	2,270
June 11th - 19th	Livingstone, Zambia to Lilongwe, Malawi	2,877 Miles
June 20th - 25th	Malawi to Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania	3,648 Miles
June 26th - June 30th	Dar Es Salaam to Zanzibar island	3,698 Miles
July 1st - 8th	Dar Es Salaam to Tanzania's Northern curcuit, Olduvai, Laetoli	4,106 Miles
July 8th - 11th	Arusha, Tanzania to Nairobi, Kenya	4,263 Miles
July 12th - 21st	Nairobi, Kenya to Lake Turkana	4,700 Miles
July 22nd - 25th	Last days in Nairobi	5,110 Miles