right humans

       One of the best things about reaching Cape Town was being reunited with Seri.  You remember her, right? Seri of "Seri's Cross Culture Porch, of "Asante Sana" and kissing a giraffe, Seri of "Kili and Zanzi" the ice climb up Kilimanjaro, and the list goes on. She's practically a blog legend! It's not enough that Seri volunteered for three months in Tanzania, making a huge difference in the lives of everyone she touched.  That would be plenty for any person, who could then race back to the states, guilt free for hot showers and Starbucks and beds without nets. Oh no, that's not the stuff she's made of. Seri went straight to South Africa for another three months of volunteerism, with yet another school.  This is a woman who is clear about her purpose and passion. She's a ninety pound fireball of activism for children, and the importance of educating them to brighten their future.  Her enthusiasm is contagious and just being near her, the glow of it rubs off on you. After we'd caught up with excited, rapid fire talk-over-each-other sentences about our experiences during the last few months, Seri said,

       "I think you should participate with me in a march on Human Right's Day. We'll march for Minimum Norms and Standards in the schools, from the city center to Parliament where we'll remind the government that these kids must have the basics to get an education."

       Of course that would be her normal conversation. And of course I couldn't say no.

So march we did.

Having Tabletop Mountain as a backdrop, the rally started with a concert and speeches about education. With mostly middle and high school students in attendance, 

the final count was over 20,000!

Seri's posse also included some other amazing volunteers.

The band Freshly Ground performed. They were the band that sang
"Waka Waka" with Shakira at the FIFA World Cup. They
got the crowd pumped up!

Spontaneous dance circle 

um. yes.  another spontaneous dance circle.

backpack wisdom

Then the march begins.

At close look, the crowd behind stretches for a mile. wow

The students were so happy to have their say and stand up for their rights.

It was inspiring.

These are the things needed in the schools out in the Townships:

Water, toilets, electricity, enough classrooms, a library, textbooks, 

a playground, and an administration center. 

It's difficult for us to understand it, 

but these are the things they don't have. 

Parliament

TWO SCENARIOS ~

1.  Kids who have everything...

The Grio reports:

A dozen people were arrested after several fights broke out at a back-to-school rally in (a US State).Police were called in to clear the streets after the rally started to wrap up and several fights broke out in downtown (a US City) Thursday afternoon. Twelve people were arrested and several people were treated for injuries they received in the melee.  

2. Kids who have nothing...

The New York Times reports:

In a peaceful demonstration, more than 15,000 people marched in Cape Town on Monday to demand libraries, computer labs and other resources for township schools, many of which are vastly under equipped. 

Hmmm, interesting... peaceful?... violent?... what does this say?

I choose not be discouraged though, look where we ended up.

cape of good hope

       I reached a goal. I made it to the southernmost point of the continent of Africa. To give you an idea of how large this continent actually is; I started halfway down the eastern side and still traveled over 4000 miles. I went about the same distance as driving from Seattle, Washington to Costa Rica! Crazy big. At the southern tip is Cape Peninsula, the meeting point of the Pacific and Indian Oceans, the Cape of Good Hope, a light house, numerous animals, and towering mountains.

       This is the adorable South African Black Footed Penguin.  They appear to be very social, which makes them fun to watch. They breed in colonies yet are monogamous. They return to the same spot each year to breed, and it must seem like a huge reunion. The average lifespan is 10 to 27 years! The most amazing thing though, is that the pattern of spots on their chest is completely unique to each one, as a fingerprint is to us.

Where is everyone?

penguin conference
Fred, did you get the jpeg I sent of last year?

I'll go check

Hmm,  guess that wasn't indigestion

Hank, mandatory meeting, get your tux up and let's go.

Good to see everyone again. Ok listen up...

Dude check out her spots, she's gorgeous!

Act cool man, just act cool.

No, really baby, you're the only one for me.

Home again yippee!

ouch

Chacma Baboons

Water mongoose

       I came down here to be no one, to be invisible.  To have no demands placed on me, no one needing me night and day. No one bringing their emotional needs for me to carry, shoulder, and return only when the owners were capable. I ran away. Away, literally, as far as I could go from the United States of America. More so, I ran from the rat race of the great surpass, of needing to watch this, study that, own more, keep up, and stay on top. The unspoken translation is: conformity by up-sell. You know this. The same happens to you. It keeps you awake at night and makes you want to run away sometimes too.  Well, evidently I did just that and here I am, at a southern tip of the earth.  I reached the goal, and guess what drifted ashore?

Nothingness.
Just like I wanted.
I took a long deep breath          expecting        something        anything.  
A revelation maybe?    A new lease on life?      But do you know what I found?

Emptiness.

Complete and utter blankness.

       It had nothing to do with the scenery, which was gorgeous; it had nothing to do with the number of people, there were plenty. It had everything to do with my life. Lacking aspiration I was just coasting daily, creating a void.  As much as we think we want utopia in a world with no responsibilities, the truth is, that is the very thing that makes us alive and human. It is what sets us apart from the universe. The ability to carry another's burdens, show compassion, work to change the world, give hope, lend a hand, and sacrifice for the things we believe in. These are the privileges we are afforded.  It costs us, yes.  The price is vulnerability, change and at times disappointment, heartache, and fear.  The reward; not remaining stuck, breaking useless patterns, and living with meaning, which then leads to a deliberate life full of merit. I realize now that responsibility and purpose are spirit enhancers not soul crushers, and that a life without them makes one a desolate vessel.
        God designed me with my own set of fingerprints.  I forgot how cool this is. I am unique. I should value this, treasure it, and not let it go to waste. My very uniqueness is my greatest asset, and should be used for something bigger than me.  Not in a way of conforming, or in someone else's version of who I should be, but in a way that is true to my authentic self. I will search for purpose, direction and my true north.  If my intentions are pure, I am certain I will find them.  No more running. It seems no coincidence that my serendipitous realization came the day I wrapped myself up in a cape of good hope.

wine if you want to

  You might be asking yourself,

       "Why hasn't she written anything lately about scary bus rides, or dangerous this or that...?"

       (You see, I like to fancy myself that you are thinking about me all of the time.)  

       Well, there is a good answer to that question.  I discovered the best thing that's happened to South Africa since Nelson Mandela, and it comes in the form of safe, easy, worry-free transportation up and down the entire coast.  It's called the Baz Bus, and it's a brilliant concept. I paid one price, less than the cost of a flight, and rode from Johannesburg to Durban, and all the way down to Cape Town. 

        I purchased the "hop on hop off" program, which meant I could take as long as I wanted at each stop and get on or off as often as I liked. At each town I selected one of the hostels on their route, there were always several to choose from, and they dropped me right at the door.  When I was ready to leave, I called the Baz Bus and asked them to pick me up and take me to the next town. I didn't have to fight anyone at the bus station, worry about my luggage being stolen, or get ripped off by cabbies.  I met lots of fun people on the bus who were also traveling the coast like myself. Sometimes I'd get on the bus and run into friends from three towns back.  I highly recommend it if you are in the area.

The luggage goes into the trailer and then comes back to you, amazing!

One of my stops on the Garden Route was the town of Knysna. Its bay is known for having the best oysters around, so I gathered a posse from the hostel and convinced them to give it a go. We walked down to the marina and found the only place opened on a sunday evening.

One young Australian friend decided to be brave and try one of my raw oysters.

uh oh, it's past the teeth. too late to turn back now

clenching of the table?

Behind the smile lies  a suppressed gag reflex

We also went to Mitchells, the largest Micro Brewery in South Africa.

I'm not much of a beer drinker and it appears I decided to take a nap during the tasting,
which is no reflection on the beer, it was quite tasty.

       I then moved on to the very small town of Wilderness, South Africa. It was gorgeous. These photos are all taken from the balcony of my back packers lodge.  I stayed two weeks, and then had to force myself to leave this view.

Beautiful hike to a waterfall.

hanging over the edge

Went up to "The Map of Africa". From up here you can see how the
river cuts around the mountain in the perfect shape of the continent.

        Next stop was the South African wine country. The jumping off point is the quaint, college town of Stellenbosch, which is full of architecture with a Dutch influence.

Harvest time! In all of my life I've never managed to be at a
 vineyard during harvest. Exciting!

        The Baz Bus dropped me at my hostel just after dark.  As I walked in, I had to weave among a crowd of people to make it near the reception desk.  Evidently there was a graduation in the next few days, so the place was packed. Several people were ahead of me, as I waited in line.  In front were two African women, one of which was very large in stature. Ok very, very large. It seems there was a problem with her reservation. 

       "Ma'am, we have your reservation in the women's dorm, but all of the bottom bunks have been taken.  There are only two top bunks left."

       Silence throughout the room.

      "Do I look like I can make it to the top bunk? I need a bottom bunk."

      "Well, the only thing I can offer is a private room that is a little more expensive.  It sleeps two, but it's on the men's hall."

       Silence.

       "Do I look like I want to stay on the men's hall and share a bathroom with them?  Oh no, that won't do at all. I can't stay with the men." She looked at her friend, then for some reason whipped her head around in my direction, and continued.  

       "I bet SHE won't have to stay on a top bunk, with the men." Assuming she meant because I was white, I shrugged and gave a small, friendly I'm-trying-to-sympathize-with-your-pain smile, while in my mind I was thinking, I am so glad I have a confirmed reservation.

       "Ma'am if you stay in that room one night, then tomorrow you can move and claim a bottom bunk on the women's hall."

       "Hmmmph. Does it look like I have a choice now? No, it doesn't."  She pulled out her wallet, and then huffed off to get her bags.  The next two women in line gladly scooped up the top two bunks in the women's dorm. Finally it was my turn.

       "Hello, I have a reservation under Zaytoun."

       "Are you sure?"

        "Yes, I have a confirmation number."

        "No, are you sure you're Zaytoun?"

        I laughed, "Yes, I'm pretty sure."

        He looked slightly embarrassed, and lowered his voice. 

       "Ma'am, I am sorry but for some reason, from your name, we thought you were a man. We have you booked in the men's dorm, and we just gave our last two beds away."  I burst out laughing! I got the giggles, and couldn't stop.

       "It's ok, really. It will be fine, I'm certain."  I almost described some of the crazy places I'd stayed in the last few months, but it wasn't really necessary. I went to the men's hall and walked into my room.  An African man wearing glasses was reclining on his bed reading one of the many newspapers spread around him.  This was uncharacteristic of most African men I had run across. Ah, back in the world of academia... how refreshing, I thought.  We exchanged pleasantries, and I went down to eat the dinner I'd brought with me.  

       I went outside to sit beside a beautiful koi pond, and had a clear view into the community kitchen.  Inside were people preparing dinner from things they'd purchased at the market. I watched as bodies wove and bobbed around each other, trying to get to utensils, the stove, and the refrigerator. There were many instances of sharing, numerous spills, collisions and laughter. I was mesmerized for almost an hour and I realized a tear was running down my cheek. I missed the chaos of family.

       Later, in the middle of the night, I awoke as another man joined us. Exhausted, he fell into bed and quickly went to sleep.  I stayed awake listening to the rhythmic sounds of the men sleeping. The deep breathing, slight snores, and noises a man makes turning and moving in the night. I was surprised that somehow I never really paid attention to this before, possibly taking it for granted. In the morning I pretended to be asleep just to hear the routines of a man in the morning as he prepares for his day.

       After breakfast, we were back in our room, packing up our belongings.  The door was opened to let in a little cool air. We heard the door across the hall open and suddenly the room darkened by a shadow blocking the light.  There, the robust woman stood surveying the room, her mouth gaping open. Suddenly the loudest, longest belly laugh filled the room.  

       "Oh my Lord!" She slapped her side, and then raised her hands. "Come here baby girl and let me give you a hug!" As I approached she grabbed me, pulled me into her soft ample bosom, and held me with arms full of comfort saying, "Oh Lord, I promise, I will never whine again!"