Planet Baobab: Chobe National Park, Botswana

I emerged from the bowels of the Delta no worse for the ware, although I was filthier than my dog that rolls around in its own poo. I mean, there was a definitive line of dirt from where my flip flops had been. SICK. Never has a shower felt so good, or rather...a huge running jump into this pool:


After the Delta, I arrived at our next campsite...Planet Baobab. This campsite was Heaven after the hot, sweaty Delta. My return to civilization was marked by the coolest decorations I've seen on my travels thus far! The bar had huge chandeliers made out of Black Label and Castle (South African beer) bottles, and vibe of the bar was Texas roadhouse meets Ikea...so fun, so...Africa.



Planet Baobab is named after the many Baobab trees that are present throughout the camp. The Baobab tree is pretty neat, as it towers above all of the other trees in the African Savannah. The Baobab is called the Tree of Life, and with good reason. It is capable of providing shelter, food and water for the animal and human inhabitants of the Savannah. The cork-like bark is fire resistant and is used for cloth and rope. The leaves are used for condiments and medicines. The tree is capable of storing hundreds of liters of water, which is tapped in dry periods. Mature trees are frequently hollow, providing living space for numerous animals and humans alike. Trees are even used as bars, barns and more!! The Baobab is also featured as the Tree of Life in the "Lion King" (ie: Rafiki's tree!) and is the centerpiece of the entire African Kingdom (in the Lion King, that is)!!!!!!!!! Radio-carbon dating has measured that age of some Baobab trees at over 2,000 years old!!!!!!!!

From Planet Baobab, we ventured into Chobe National Park, by way of boat and overland truck. Although I saw a lot of neat animals, the experience paled in comparison to what I saw during my trip to Kruger National Park. This time, I was able to see different animals--lots of crocodiles, hippos, and even a giant lizard called a "water monitor." My absolute favorite moment was on our boat ride back to camp, where against the setting sun, along the banks of the river was a lone bull elephant. Although the picture defies all conceptions of a "good" photograph (ie: the composition is weak, and it's incredibly back lit) I adore it. In so many ways, it exemplifies what my trip to Africa has given me: serenity.

Franstar: Okavanga Delta, Botswana

I knew I was in for the time of my life when our tour group was told that in order to get to the "boat station" to leave for the Okavanga Delta, we were going to have to undertake an hour long, open-air, overland vehicle drive through the desert. And let me tell you--they made the drive sound appealing. In actuality, while I was sitting on top of all of my worldly possessions, trying not to fly off of the truck, or inhale sand to the point of asphyxiation, I realized that I was actually better off with the Toddler in the Cockpit. Either way, I chalked the truck ride up to just another adventure on my travels throughout Africa.

In order to travel throughout the Delta, you ride in hollowed out, wooden canoes called mekoros. After our hour-long roller-coaster ride throughout the desert, the small dirt road we were driving on opened up, and all of a sudden I was at a bustling hub. I had arrived at the mekoro station! This "station" can only be likened to Grand Central. Overland trucks were parked askew, what seemed like masses of people were milling about, different languages were flying around, domesticated and wild animals were searching for new friends...it was just an utterly chaotic, swarm of activity. And I loved it. While our mekoros were being loaded up, all of us took the opportunity to find a quiet bathroom, and slather ourselves with sunscreen and insect repellent (Look Mom! No sunburn or Malaria!). It didn't take long for our mekoros to be ready to go, and I was off on a two hour ride up the Okavanga to our campsite!

I was a sly little weasel and managed to grab shot-gun in the mekoro I shared with my friend, Haley. Much to my disappointment, karma came back at me when I realized that being in the front meant many encounters with various arachnids and amphibians. These little buddies got knocked off of the reeds and tall grasses they inhabited when we traveled through dense areas. Although I got used to it, the experience left me riddled with many a spider bite which left my legs looking disease ridden for a week post-vacation.


It also did not take me long to establish a love-hate relationship with the pure power of the heat in the Delta. Never, ever, have I been so hot in my life. (This may have had to do with the "sun sensitivity" side effect of my malaria medication, but I'm not sure. It was pretty hot.) Luckily, after we set up camp on a small island within the Delta, relief came in the form of our local "swimming hole." An excited frenzy stirred throughout our camp when our trusted leader and guide, Ruth, came back from checking out the swimming hole, soaking wet. She had given the swimming hole her safety seal of approval, and so off we went. The prospect of cooling water never seemed so fantastic. We took a short mekoro ride to the coveted location, only to realize that our "swimming hole" was merely a break in the reeds and grass. It was quite comical watching everyone slide into the water, without trying to tip over the mekoros, and it was even more entertaining to watch everyone freak out by how slimy the undergrowth of the Delta was. Every time I moved I thought I was getting attacked by hippos or other underwater creatures because the lily pads and other various grasses seemed to attack my legs. (Tangent: The experience was very reminiscent of the 4th Harry Potter book when Harry has to rescue Ginny from the underwater merepeople, and he gets attacked by all of the slimy little evil tad poles) All in all, the experience was more frightening than expected (which seemed to be a common theme throughout the entire duration of my spring break trip) but awesome none the less.


My first night in the Delta was defined by the absolute wonder of the best star gazing I think I will ever see. Before the Delta, I never understood what was meant by the "Milky Way." I mean, I understood the concept, and I could picture in my mind what the Milky Way would look like in the sky, but I had never seen it before. Well, that changed my first night in the Delta. I was overcome with child-like wonder when I looked up to the sky, rather naively, pointed at the Milky Way, and said aloud: "Wow! Look at that milkly band of stars! What is that?!" (I then felt rather stupid and was relieved that no one heard me.) You could see so many other things in the night sky that were just amazing--planets, nearly all of the various constellations...The night quickly became my favorite part of the few days I spent in the Delta. It's cloaking of the heat and unparalleled marvel of the sky was so wondrous. (Side note: I know the pictures don't correspond with my last two little stories, but they were too cool not to post.)



The majority of our time in the Delta was taken up by various mekoro rides to neighboring islands, as well as lots of nature walks. This is what a typical day consisted of:



I was so excited to see a hippo foot print! My other favorite nature encounter was the discovery of "monkey balls", which are large tree nuts that elephants swallow. Because the digestive system of elephants is rather weak, they poop out these nuts whole!! The cool thing about monkey balls getting pooped out by elephants, is that after they have been digested, the outer skin of the nut becomes weak. This allows one to carve neat patterns and designs into the monkey balls. So, at camp that night, my fellow trip mates got to try to carve our very only monkey balls that had gotten pooped out by real live elephants. I really don't think anything can beat that.

All of these experiences would not have been possible without one very important person. And that person is my little man, Francis. Or, as I lovingly called him: Franstar. Franstar embodied his nickname...he was a star. A true gem. As the Lieutenant Commander of the mekoro fleet, Francis out shinned his counterparts in his ability to "pull" our mekoro the fastest. He also had an unparalleled sense of direction, often taking Haley and I along the "back" routes that no one else seemed to travel along or through. Above all else, Franstar was a true legend because of his willingness to show us traditional African dances. Allegedly, these dances gave thanks to frogs. This "dance" consisted of us jumping around on the ground, pretending as if we were frogs. Franstar may have made up this "traditional" African dance in order to make fun of ignorant Americans, but if so, he never let on. So to Franstar: Cheers. You rocked.

Toddler in the Cockpit: Maun, Botswana

Quick recap: My adventure to Botswana started at a bright and early 3:45am. In typical African style, our transport to the airport was late...so much so that we almost missed our flight! (This was further compounded because some idiot forgot his passport and we had to turn the bus around.) When we arrived at the airport, the airlines had a whole counter ready for us. Luckily, we made it one time. After arriving in Joberg, we boarded our huge overland truck and trekked across the border to Botswana and we camped for the first night in the middle of nowhere. The second day, after 6 hours in the truck, we finally arrived in Maun.

We arrived in Maun in the early afternoon. We had lunch, set up our campsite, and did the daily run to the bar for ice cold bottled water and diet cokes. (This ritual became a frenzied rush every time we arrived at a new campsite.)

After lunch, we went on a scenic flight over the Okavango Delta. The Okavango is a labyrinth of lagoons, lakes and hidden channels covering an area of over 17,000 square km and is the largest inland delta in the world. Trapped in the parched Kalahari sands, the Delta is created by the rainfall it receives from Angola.


The Maun airport was officially the smallest airport I have ever been in (one of my many African firsts). My 4 friends and I eagerly awaited for our pilot in the "terminal" which was about the size of my living room. When Paul came in and introduced himself to us, we were overcome with giddy girl excitement. At first glace, we were smitten with his good looks, overall charm, and disarming (read: sexy) accent. But those feelings slowly dissipated when we realized that Paul could have easily been 15 years old, and definitely weighed less than us. And no one wants a pre-pubescent boy zipping them around in mini planes. That's just reckless and terrifying. So before he strapped us all in and sealed the door to the plane--we just had to ask: "Paul, um, I'm sure you get this a lot, but how old are you?" Well, what do you know, Paul just so happened to be 21, and had been flying for 5 whole years. Although our feelings of fright did not dissolve with this information (hello, the plane had 6 seats and looked like a slightly larger version of what little toddlers play with) it did justify all of the wildly inappropriate comments we were muttering behind his back. Check out Paul and his beauty of a plane:



And here's all of us smashed into the back of the plane, smiling to hide our nervousness about flying with some hooligan:



Paul somehow managed to take off, fly for 45 minutes (without turbulence I might add) and land us safely back on ground. I'm still skeptical that he was a licensed pilot. He just looked so little. All in all, it was really awesome to see the Delta from the air and know that in less than 24 hours I would be camping on its banks, swimming in its channels, and traveling throughout it in mekoros!

Spring Break 2k10 [squared]

 

I never thought I would be so excited to see paved roads or have clean water, that is, until I went on my second Spring Break trip of the year (lucky me!) throughout the African wilderness of Botswana, and Zambia (with a small afternoon in Zimbabwe, but I feel like I'm cheating when I claim to have "visited"). This will be the first post of many detailing my adventures over the week, as there were so many!

If I may be so bold, I believe this toilet exemplifies the many continued ironies I observed throughout my trip, and I would like to use it as a segway to discuss some interesting observations I made over my break. First, what's with this toilet? It is literally just in the middle of the wilderness, which in itself is quite contradictory. The fusion of modernity and the wild gone all wrong, really. While going potty, I could only feel confused. I wanted to be in a safe, warm, enclosed bathroom but alas, mosquitoes were landing on my bum and frogs were jumping around my feet. It was as if the proprietors of the campsite couldn't make up their mind as to the aesthetic of their lodge: "Shall we go for a rustic, hole in ground approach? Or maybe some sturdy, standard bathrooms? Naw, let's just stick a toilet in the open. Given our guests a little bit of both." Anyway...

A List of Things That Don't Exist in Africa:
1. Speed limits. Which becomes a problem when the only paved road is the main "highway". Our overland truck really should have come with a disclaimer: "Free roller coaster rides when on unpaved roads!"

2. Trashcans and/or means of trash disposal. Litter is EVERYWHERE--on the side of the road, in the streets. It flies about in the atmosphere. Stray dogs are constantly eating it. It's piled in deep holes. It's just so, sad.

3. Sunscreen. For being a place where the sun blazes down at you, all hours of the day, and is utterly inescapable, one would assume that measures to combat sunburn and other aliments would form a large market. Alas, this is not true. Sunscreen does not exist in Africa. Anywhere. Ironic.

4. Standardized currency. In Zimbabwe especially, they have no government supported monetary system. They run off of the South African rand and the American dollar (And never have I seen people so excited at the sight of an American dollar. Dollars are equated with a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, the holy grail, a miracle.)

5. Properly priced Pringles (say that 5 times fast). For some reason, Pringles are the most expensive snack here. One little canister will put you back a whopping $12. I learned this the hard way on a quick rest stop.

Lastly, a question to ponder:
Why do clay huts located in poverty ridden, minuscule villages (without running water, means of education, or transportation) have HUGE TV SATELLITE DISHES attached to their thatched roofs?!

I'm still grappling with this. Literally, wherever our travels would take us, no matter how remote or distant from civilization, every hut in every village had huge satellite TV dishes. How these were attached to roofs made out of dried grass still boggles my mind.

Needles to say, my Spring Break travels finally landed me in the midst of the "real" Africa. The adventures that ensued were nothing short of priceless. Stay tuned!

On top of the World

 

Table Mountain is an iconic symbol of Cape Town and summitting its flat, expansive top was an experience unlike any other. A wild entity in and of itself, every year inexperienced tourists get stuck at the top of the mountain in gale-force windstorms or weather systems that move in off the water rapidly and unexpectedly. It was a pure stroke of genius luck that my friends and I were not these dumb tourists. As we climbed up "Skeleton's Gorge" (known for its steep vertical scramble up a dry riverbed) a uniformed park officer cautioned us that the weather at the top was unpredictable, and that this particular day was proving to be rather windy. He radioed up to his counterpart at the top of the mountain, and surprisingly, we were given the go-ahead to climb on. Once we reached the top, we were surprised at just how windy it really was. At some points, we couldn't stand. Many times, we had to crouch down or find refuge behind huge boulders. The wind was thrashing so hard, the zipper on my windbreaker hit my lip so hard that I started to bleed. Mind you, this was all taking place along a sheer cliff edge. Luckily, at certain points, we had a respite from the whipping wind and were able to take in our surroundings. The aerial views of the peninsula were spectacularly breath-taking. In the distance, you could make out Robben Island, and being above the cloud cover really made me feel like I was On Top of the World.

The Lion King: Real Life Edition

My recent journey to Kruger National Park was nothing short of living in The Lion King. It was during this time that I finally figured out what everyone means when they tell me that as an international student I need to be “patient” (not my strong suit as you all know) and understand that: “This is Africa”.

After a night out at our favorite Jazz club downtown called Zula, I more or less woke up on an airplane, already in Joberg, with my neck at a 90 degree angle, and the remnants of dribble on my chin. For the record, going out and catching a 5:45 am flight are not a successful combination. Or maybe it was a very successful combination. I think it is all about how you look at it. Either way, I digress.

I disembarked the plane, immediately found a bakery and proceeded to stuff my face full of quiches and croissants. I had a couple hours to wait until the representative from my “Adventure Camp and Tree House Lodge” was scheduled to pick me up from the airport. Later, after much confusion about the pick-up point, coupled with the fact that my friends and I looked very obviously American (ie: North Face backpacks, sorority t-shirts, and Ray Bans) a kind police officer took pity on us and showed us exactly where “pick-up/long term shuttle by the permit office” was (because that description makes a whole lot of sense when there are about 50 pick-up/long term shuttle stops). We hopped in our mini tour bus and were greeted by Ronald, our temporary driver. We briefly met the other people in our bus not realizing that we would be spending an unprecedented amount of time with them over the coming days. After briefly picking up a few other passengers within Joberg, we were off to Kruger!

We stopped at a small town to have lunch at “The Poacher” a sub-par grill-type restaurant that won some points in my book for having outdoor seating and a playground for little kids (I assume you all know that I am a food snob). Due to the fact that I immediately passed out on the bus ride, my friends and I took the opportunity during lunch to meet the people along with us. There were 2 young Turkish couples, who now live in Canada, one of which works for an NGO on UCT’s campus. Not too much older than us, but way cooler, we instantly knew that we’d be hanging out with them. (This was made apparently clear to me, when on the later portion of the bus ride one of the guys began to sing along with the Lion King soundtrack that was playing in the background, and at one point recited the entire first monologue in V for Vendetta. He's the third dude from the right. His gf is the trendy looking girl with the coy smile standing in front of him). There was another French Canadian couple. Although I’m not sure you could call them a “couple” as they did not introduce themselves as such, and could have easily been brother and sister. This hot debate: “Are David and Gabrielle together?” continued throughout the duration of our tip. Check them out--he's the first guy on the left, and she's in the green jacket next to him.
Lastly, there was a group of two Moms, with one teenage boy who appeared at first glance to be 25. They were odd people, and luckily they stayed at a different lodge so we didn’t have to interact with them again. I was happy about this because I inadvertently made fun of the boy for having two earrings (A whole other side story. I more or less stated that it wasn’t cool for boys to wear earrings while in his presence).

After lunch we met Isaac, our permanent driver and trusted guide. He would soon become a member of our small Safari family. We arrived at our “Tree Lodge” after our 7 hour trek through the barren African countryside to a whirlwind of confusion. One of our reservations hadn’t been placed—luckily we were smart enough to make copies of our receipts. After much confusion, miscommunication, and waiting (this theme would continue throughout the trip) one of my friends was placed in a cabin with 4 beds by herself. It was the best that we could do.

Excited to see our “tree house” my friend Clare and I immediately ran over to our room to check it out. Unfortunately, we were immediately let-down as our “tree house” was essentially a hut raised a couple feet off the ground. Let’s just say that there was quite an amount of deceptive advertising that went on via Marc’s Camps brochures.

Either way we were starving and it was dinner time. Surrounded by a warm campfire, we were told that dinner would be “veggie soup”. Thinking that I had to sustain myself on soup alone, I gobbled down two huge bowls along with 4 pieces of bread only to realize that a 4 course meal was being served. Soup was merely a starter. Not to worry, I ate all 4 courses in addition to an ice cream for dessert. If I come back fat, I’ll know why.

After our delicious, traditionally South African meal, we went on a night game drive. We had many problems with our spot light, and it was quite cold. But on our first game drive alone, we saw buffalo, rhinos, giraffes, and impalas! And we weren’t even in Kruger yet! We spent a lot of time looking for a leopard as they typically feed at night. Our Turkish friend (the same one who sang along to Lion King) said it best: “Finding a leopard is like trying to find the g-spot. So elusive.”

After the drive, I headed back to my room to shower and go to bed. Exhaustion had set in hours before. I went to take a shower, only to realize that a small froggy was perched upon my cold water nozzle! Slightly more rustic than I had initially imagined, and afraid that the froggy would jump onto my naked body, I proceeded with great caution. Luckily, the froggy enjoyed the moisture and didn’t move a muscle. I was happy.

The next morning we got up bright and early (breakfast was always at 7 am) and headed out to enjoy the animals at Kruger. The Park was roughly an hour away from our game reserve, so we always got a quick nap in before the real fun started. On our first day in the park, we saw all of the “Big 5”.


These are basically the cool animals, which include lions, leopards, buffalo, rhinos, and elephants. We even saw the most poisonous snake within all of Africa! At one point, we got caught in the middle of a baby elephant crossing, and the Momma elephant nearly charged our truck. She had the whole “ears puffed out, trunk swinging, making loud and scary elephant noises” thing going on. It was the only point during my 3-day safari that I actually thought we might get attacked. So that was good. I guess. Additionally, we got a tip from one man who had driven by us that there had been a zebra kill earlier, and that lions were feeding. We immediately set off in search of the kill. Although the man gave us copious directions, our hunt went on way past lunch-time and to no avail.

We stopped for lunch at one the park-run rest-stops at 3 (recall that I had breakfast at 7) and was forced to eat at quite possibly the worst restaurant on my travels thus far. I ordered a burger, thinking that those are not too hard to mess up, and was severely disappointed to find sweet chili sauce smeared all over it. (Sweet chili sauce is this disgusting marinade type spread that they put on nearly everything here. Very similar to the tangy mayo situation in Peru.) I then went through this really awful internal evaluation process in which I weighted the pros and cons of eating said disgusting burger. Obviously hunger won out. I completely get why shipwrecked individuals end up eating each other. That’s how hungry I was. Just saying. The rest of our day consisted of searching for cool animals, finding them, idling in our car, taking lots of pictures, and admiring their grace and beauty.

That night, Clare and I came back to a frightening situation. We walked into our room, and it had been ransacked. All of our clothes had been taken out of our backpacks and off our chairs and flung across the room. Our bedside table was over-turned the lamp was on the floor. We began to find pieces of our phones scattered about—a battery here, a sim card there…pieces of ripped up wrappers and toilet paper were sprinkled like confetti all about. We frantically began to search for our valuables. Passports, credit cards, extra money, all there. Ipods, check. Nothing had been stolen, and nothing seemed to be missing. And that’s when we noticed the disappearance of a roll of mentos, one granola bar, and a bottle of malaria medicine. Was the ransacking a way of covering up the theft of malaria pills? That was the conclusion we came to. Unhappy and not pleased with the fact that our room had been broken into, we went up the hotel manager and asked what could be done about the situation. Much to our surprise the manager merely remarked: “Oh, yes! I forgot to tell you. Monkeys got into your room today.” I stared at her in disbelief and was absolutely dumbstruck as I realized that dirty little monkey opposable thumbs touched and flung my clothes about my room. That’s when my trip got a little too rustic.

The next morning we woke up to discover the little rascal monkeys perched on top of our hut, most likely waiting to make another entrance. They stole our food at breakfast, and we were not surprised when we came home that night to find our room ransacked yet again. Damn monkeys. Hate it when that happens.

As our trip came to a close, we realized that a large miscommunication error had occurred, as we had booked our flights the day after we were to be returning to Joberg. This set off a chain of events that included attempting to call the airline from the one phone at the hotel that we had to get special permission to use. Not having the customer service line for the airline proved to be another set-back, and all-in-all our ineptitude coupled with the fact that we were in Africa culminated in being the third wheel with David and Gabrielle, the French-Canadian not-couple at a hostel in Joberg. Fun times. Fun times.

Luckily, we made it back to Cape Town in one piece, with unforgettable memories and tons of pictures of really cool animals. I really did spend 4 days living in The Lion King. As I type this, I’m downloading it from iTunes so I can watch it tonight. Still a child at heart? I’d say so.

Shark Week: Real Life Edition

Last weekend, I had the most unreal, amazing, can’t-believe-that-just-happened-to-me day.

I got up at the crack of dawn (ie: 3:45 am) and got picked up by a mini-tour bus from my house, along with two other housemates as well as some other people that I know from my program. We then all headed out to Gansbaai Bay, which is a famous Bay outside of Cape Town...to go Great White Shark diving. Unreal, right? Oh, just wait.

I passed out during the two hour bus ride and arrived at a darling little beach house right on the water before the sun was even up. We had breakfast (I had a delicious bran muffin that was hot out of the oven), signed our life away via some dumb waivers (ie: “If you lose a hand, finger, toe, you can’t sue us”) and then listened to a quick safety brief, and I was off to swim with the Great Whites.

The boat ride to our diving spot was spectacular. We left the dock right as the sun was coming up and the entire duration of our boat ride I watched the sun rise against the background of the mountain range as a host of birds flew alongside our boat. As I watched the sun come up I was really overcome with a lot of emotion. I can’t really explain what was going through my head, but for some reason I just felt like there was no other place in the world that I was supposed to be at that very moment. And it was a feeling that was about more than just seeing some cool sharks, and doing cool shit. It was the first time since I’ve been here that it actually felt right. That I made a good decision to leave home and go so far away…that this “experience” that I’m having might actually be worthwhile or life changing in some way. Make any sense? Probably not.

Halfway to our dive spot, all of a sudden the boat gave a jerk, sputtered a little bit, and then we were moving considerably slower than we were before. Everyone else thought that we had reached our dive destination, but I immediately knew we had hit something and one of our engines had died (those fishing trips as a youngster totally paid off). I looked behind the boat, and was like “OMG A WHALE!” and the whole boat turned and looked, and low and behold there was a huge Wright whale swimming in back of us. Well, turns out we hit it. And that’s what caused one of our engines to die. The whale looked fine. No obvious blood trails in the water or anything. Apparently that’s super rare…to hit a whale I guess. But then we had a little situation because we were pretty far offshore, with one engine. (More to come on that later)

We passed Duiker Island and dropped anchor not too far from its shore. Duiker Island is famous for its “Shark Alley”—which is a natural channel that was formed along a large portion of its coastline due to huge rock formations that tons of sea lions live on. It’s the same alley that’s featured on all of the Discovery Channel documentaries on Great Whites.

As soon as we dropped anchor, the crew unloaded the huge cage that we were going to dive in, and started throwing “chum” (a mix of fish blood and guts) as well as huge fish heads around the water near the boat. At this point nearly everyone on the boat was feeling a little sea sick. (Me included). Five people suited up, hopped in the cage, and I went to the upstairs viewing deck to watch out for some sharks.

It took a good 15 minutes, but then all of a sudden, BAM. There was a Great White. Around every 7 minutes or so, a new one would swim by, or the same one would make another round. I watched every other group go, and right as I was about to climb down to get my wet suit on, A GREAT WHITE BREACHED RIGHT BESIDE OUR BOAT. A Great White shark actually jumped out of the water, right next to our boat, in mid-air, flopped around, and smacked the water so hard the people at the front of the boat got wet. Apparently this is beyond rare. It basically never happens unless the sharks are provoked with like a fake sea lion cut-out/buoy. UNFREAKINGBELIEVABLE.

(Important side note: Moments before the Great White was breaching, this big ogre of a kid was puking his guts out over the side of the boat. Kid had some serious sea sickness issues. Naturally, guess who had to get squished into the cage right next to him? Yup. Me.)

So after the shark breached, I climbed down and went to go put my wet suit on. Approximately one minute after being below deck I got serious sea sickness, and felt soooooo incredibly nauseous. One of the “tricks” they have for sea sickness is to suck on lollipops. Which I don’t know if it actually worked or not, but after some struggling (since I went last I had to put someone’s cold and wet suit on) to get my wetsuit on, I went back up to the top of the boat and was pretty miserable until right before I got into the cage. (See attached picture. It’s a beauty.)

So to get into the dive cage, you sit on the edge of the boat and “walk” down the rungs of the cage to get in. We just used masks and held our breath because apparently o2 tanks and bubbles scare the sharks away. It was FREEZING. Of course I got a size too big wetsuit so I was swimming inside of my own wet suit (not okay). The protocol while in the cage is as follows: You would hover at the top of the cage, and the people on board yell: “DOWN LEFT” and then you just push off from the top of the cage, and grab onto this red bar that was inside of the cage and look around and see the sharks.

I SAW ATLEAST 7 GREAT WHITE SHARKS. In person. Not on TV. It was UNREAL. I saw a couple little ones, one giant one that looked like it was going to bite the cage, and one that had some really sad gash wounds on its fin, probably from a fishing net or something. You know how Great Whites look really sinister and mean on TV? As if they actually possess a real aggressive personality? Well, they look exactly like that in real life. Exactly. The. Same. It wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought it was going to be…more just freaking awesome. If my fingers hadn’t turned blue and I could have still felt my feet, I would have stayed down there so much longer just checking them out. OH, and there were lots of cool fishes too that were feeding on the fish heads, and those were super fun to look at. I think they should get some credit too. It wasn’t all about the sharks…the fishys swam in our cage, and one even tapped my mask!

It wasn’t all fun and games in our “cage rager” as we called it. The big ogre kid next to me STARTED PUKING IN THE CAGE. And not like, one hurl and he was done. The kid was puking for a solid five minutes, at least a half dozen hurls. And his vomit was floating all up in my business, and he felt it was necessary to look at me while he was puking. I nearly got sick too. Because just seeing someone else puke and seeing vomit makes me sick enough. Then he had little pieces of vomit stuck to his mask, and on his wet suit hood. I wanted to die. I was trying not to laugh, but was absolutely disgusted at the same time. It was awful. It was also inescapable, because I tried to go underwater and look at the fishes, but his vomit was floating in little chunks all in the water, and then the fish started eating his vomit, and I was about 5 seconds away from hurling myself. And then he finally stopped. Thank God.

Fun fact: In South Africa puking/yakking/vomiting is called “chundering”. The verb form being: “to chunder”. Bring that one back home and start using it. It can also be abbreviated to describe an action that we don’t have a word for in the USA. “TC” stands for “tactical chunder”. Which is when one makes oneself throw up. Oh, the cultural things I’ve been learning!

So since I was part of the last group to dive, I got out of the cage and realized that nearly everyone on the boat had disappeared. Since one of our engines had broken, they had to get an emergency dingy to take the majority of people back to land because we couldn’t have made it on one engine. We also had to leave the cage in the water with a buoy attached to it. Crazy, huh?

This post has gone on far to long, but it was necessary to detail the entire day...the wale, the shark that jumped, the big ogre who was vomiting everywhere…it was unbelievable.

Lego land?

 

F.W. de Klerk is an awesome guy and all, but I'm sure what was more intriguing was the red statue in the background of his picture. Well, here it is ladies and gentlemen. And don't be fooled! It's not made out of legos (as I initially thought). It's made out of coke crates! I have no idea why it's on a dock at the waterfront, or who built it, but it's pretty rad.

Statues

 

At the V&A waterfront, there is a small pavillion with bronze statues honoring all of the South African nobel peace prize winners. Natually there is one of Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu. I was intrigured when I came across this statue of F.W. de Klerk. I had never heard of the guy! Upon doing some research I found out that de Klerk was a former South African president from 1989 to 1994. He was awarded the Nobel peace prize because he abruptly changed the course of South Africa forever by entering into negotiations with previously outlawed anti-aparteid groups in the 1990's. Basically, this guy started the anti-aparteid movement, and formed a foundation for Nelson Mandela's later transformaitonal work.

Muizenberg

 

One of the many surffing hot stops within Cape Town, Muizenberg is known for its colorful beach huts, beautiful beaches, and laid-back atmosphere. Origionally, Muizenberg was a military outpost which protected the back door to Cape Town from invasion through False Bay. Now, it's a great place to catch a wave, watch the sun set, or grab a delicious coffee from "Knead" a local bakery right on the water. Just a short train ride away from my house, I stopped by the beach one clear and sunny afternoon to explore. Once it warms up, one of my Cali surfer-bro roommates has promised me lessons. Totally planning on "shredding some waves" then.

Boulders

 

Be a sleuth for a moment, and try to locate the penguin in this picture. Can you find it? Isn't it so cute?! Boudlers, one of the many national South African parks consists of a sheltered cove between Simon's Town and Cape Town and is home to a thriving colony of African Penguins that you can view at close range. The penguin colony was started in 1982 from just 2 breeding pairs. The colony has now grown to 3,000 pairs! Although they are now known as the African penguin, at one time these cute little buggers were called Jackass penguins because of their donkey-like braying call. Penguins in Africa! Who knew?

Birthday Boy

Guess what? Today is Nelson Mandela's 92nd birthday. What an old guy! Although my fellow house mates are using his birthday as an excuse to get schwastey, the rest of the country dedicated 67 minutes of their day to engaging in community service to honor the number of years Mandela spent serving their country. How cool is that?

This time for Africa

Welcome to Graca Machel, my first home during my travels in South Africa. Named after Nelson Mandela's wife, it was commissioned in 2005 and completed in early 2007. The residence has a fantastic urban design framework. Which basically means it had really complicated hallways, corridors, and courtyards that made no sense. I lived in room 7B3. You may assume that 7 signified the floor level I was on. This may lead you to think: Wowza. That's a long way to carry three 50lb suitcases. Wrong. B signified the floor I lived on. Which was a really backwards way of saying that I was on the second floor. Once, when I walked through the wrong doorway I ended up in a courtyard I had never seen before. Confusing.

The Final Countdown

12. A little over a week.
Still hasn't hit me yet.
Cape Town, I've got big expectations for you.
I'm hoping you won't disappoint.