Diarrhea

OK people, I'm going to swallow my pride and give you an education on the subject, since I seem to be the expert. I'd like for you to avoid becoming one through personal experience. TRUST ME.

The day we left South Africa, I started to feel unwell. Nauseous, cranky, out of it. I attributed this to end-of-vacation irritability and too many goodbye-Africa Mojitos, topped with pizza and a shot of Jaeger at the hostel bar with our new friend from the Mojito place. Now, if you know me, that should have raised a red flag because such consumption is entirely within my limits. Back on the ground in the U.S., the situation worsened. It took on ominous tones of the Thailand experience. Oh? You don't know about the Thailand experience? Let me catch you up on LAST YEAR'S diarrhea incident:

"On Saturday, our last full day in Thailand, we went to
Chatachuk market, literally one of the largest markets
in the entire world. They have everything you can
imagine for sale (and let me tell you, it's cheap! For
example: I bought a NorthFace trekking backpack for
only $15!) It's all packed in a maze of aisles under
hot tin roofs that cover several square miles. Three
hours into this shopping expedition, I got really sick
and had to go home. I had a raging fever, was dizzy,
nauseous, and discovered a new hobby called going to
the bathroom. I continued to pursue this hobby over
the next three days, without stopping to sleep or eat.
You can imagine how much fun THAT 20-hour plane ride
home was!

THE HOSPITAL
Back in the U.S., I go right to the hospital, where I
am promptly hooked up to an IV and greeted by two cute
male nurses, who are about my age. What luck, right!?
Even in my dilapidated state, I'm joking and bantering
with them and having fun, UNTIL they have to ask me
about my "condition" and collect a "sample." SO
embarassing. I know they see way worse stuff all the
time BUT STILL!!! I mean, come on - that's funny!
Someday, I know I will run into them at the bar!!! At
least I'll have an icebreaker, I guess!!!"

OK, now you're all up to speed on my sordid diarrhea history. So, back in the U.S. last week, I'm not feeling so well, actually worse by the hour. I'll spare you the details, but long story short, I was sick for seven days. Yesterday, I had a nice chat with my doctor and here is the advice she gave me:

* when traveling overseas, pack Kaopectate and Mylanta. The Mylanta is useful to calm your stomach if you eat something spicy that disagrees with you and the Kaopectate will "bundle your stool," which will allow you to go to the bathroom "2 times a day instead of 10."
* if you come down with the diarrhea, Gatorade is your friend. It replaces electrolytes you're losing.
* even if you don't feel like it, you still need to eat. My doctor recommends the "BRAT diet": bananas, rice, applesauce and toast. Palatable even to the nauseous and good at "stool bundling." She also said yogurt can help by boosting the "good bacteria" in your system.
* while traveling, drink bottled water, even if the water is purportedly OK to drink from the tap where you're visiting (similarly, avoid pop, ice, or other non-boiled sources of tap water)
* even if the place you're visiting doesn't require it, get up-to-date on all your immunizations. Do this ahead of time because hepatitis shots, for example, are given in a series, so it takes months to complete the immunization process.
* if you get the diarrhea, and it doesn't subside in 2-3 days, see a doctor. "You can die from this," my doctor pointed out.
* don't, like me, be cocky and think that just because you're an adventurous eater and rarely get sick at home that you won't overseas (I know I said not to be cocky, but right here I have to give my intestinal bacteria props: after last year's experience, I was determined not to resort to antibiotics this time. I wanted to conquer the bacteria and hopefully build up some kind of immunity - can you even build immunity to bacteria? - so that this will never happen to me again - yeah right. After seven days, my intestinal bacteria have soundly defeated the invader bacteria without the assistance of antibiotics and I am so proud of them. Thanks bacteria! You're the best!

Anyway, there you have it. I hope it helps! That flushing sound? My dignity going down the drain!

; )

Love you, people!

Spirit of South Africa w/photos

Don't get me wrong: it's not all doom and gloom there. In fact, we were both struck by the social complexity and sense of hope and optimism only 15 years after the end of apartheid.

We saw a very moving symbol of this attitude during our visit to the Robbin Island prison, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for the better part of two decades. During a tour, we stopped at the hottest part of the island, at the bottom of a limestone quarry, where Mandela and 31 other men were forced to work in the ruthless sun for years. Many of them developed vision and breathing problems because the dust from the limestone got in their eyes and lungs. In the limestone wall was a cave about the size of a two-car garage. Inside this cave is where the men went to the bathroom. They were forced to dig holes and use them as toilets. But, with 32 men all using the tiny space, they invariably wound up digging up another man's waste. They were not allowed to wash their hands before they were forced to eat in the same room they used as a bathroom. This was all designed to break the men's spirits and halt their push for democracy. But, instead of succumbing to these twisted mind games, the men remained strong and used the room of torture as a sanctuary in which they discussed democracy and plotted out the future. After the fall of apartheid, the former prisoners of Robbin Island met in the quarry and each placed a rock from the quarry on a pile started by Nelson Mandela. After more than 1,000 former prisoners had added to the pile, Mandela said: Let this be a monument not to our suffering, but to hope. Let this be an example of the best of the human spirit. Can you imagine? That blew my mind. Beautiful.

And Shashi, you asked about the presence of the U.N. in the townships: we did not see the U.N. or any other international aid agencies (to be fair, we were only there for one day). But, let me tell you about the man who conducted our tour, Sam. Sam grew up in the Langa township. He was the fifth of nine children, which gave him an advantage; as his older brothers and sisters found work, they were each able to contribute toward the household and toward his schooling. This enabled him to attend a boarding school and go on to college, where he earned a business administration degree. In turn, he has helped his younger siblings get an education and gives back to the community through his tour business. For example, he took us to visit a center that began as a children's hospital and blossomed into a trade center for the children's moms, where the women learned to weave beautiful rugs and tapestries and sell them. All of us on the tour made purchases there.

As much as it's not all doom and gloom, it's not all hunky-dory. During our tour, we also saw the site where American exchange student Amy Biehl, who was working on a voter registration project, was beaten and stabbed to death. She wound up at the the wrong place at the wrong time: her path crossed that of a rally by radical Pan Africanist Congress members who were militant and believed they could get redress of their grievances from the former apartheid government through violence against whites. The perpetrators were brought to trial and faced the death penalty (which has since been abolished in SA). Bieh's parents were asked to weigh in on the men's sentences; they asked that the men's lives be spared. Instead, her parents created a foundation to further her work, rehabilitate prisoners and expand literacy; the men now work with Biehl's parents through the foundation. Here is an excerpt I found on a Web site about Biehl (http://www.rjgeib.com/heroes/amy/amy.html):

BEGIN EXCERPT<<
"How do we link arms in friendship and do something?" Mr. Biehl (her father) asked a hushed room of journalists during a press conference in South Africa. "We, the Amy Biehl Foundation, are willing to do our part as catalysts for social progress. Are you, the community of South Africa, prepared to do your part?" It is one thing to kill people in the name of freedom and justice; quite another to day-after-day build a country of educated and responsible citizens through education and leadership. We shall see how South Africa chooses her future.

Testifying before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission on July 8, 1997, Mr. Biehl read a passage from a book by biologist/humanist Lewis Thomas that Amy had herself used in her high school valedictorian speech:

The drive to be useful is encoded in our genes. But when we gather in very large numbers, as in the modern nation-state, we seem capable of levels of folly and self-destruction to be found nowhere else in all of nature. But if we keep at it and keep alive, we are in for one surprise after another. We can build structures for human society never seen before, thoughts never heard before, music never heard before.
END EXCERPT>>

That is the spirit of the South Africa we met.

AIDS w/photos

*THESE PICTURES ILLUSTRATE OUR VISIT TO THE TOWNSHIP, NOT MY COMMENTS ABOUT AIDS. WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE IN THESE PICTURES.




Let's talk about AIDS. From all accounts we've heard here, more than 50% of adults in South Africa are infected. I kind of knew that when I came here, but I didn't realize how truly dire the situation is. Yesterday, we went on a tour of four of the Cape townships. FYI: Townships are the areas where the government decided to move black Cape residents when they reconfigured the city and under apartheid. Remember what I wrote about District Six? We're talking about people who before the upheaval lived in lovely, productive communities. Can I say the townships are uproductive? No, people are all over the place trying to work, but, they still are beset by grinding poverty and overcrowding.

For example, let me tell you about the preschool we visited yesterday. When we walked in the door, we were positively MOBBED by children. To the point that three or four kids would be trying to climb up you for a hug all at once and if they didn't get a hug, they were in tears. A HUG, I'm telling you. They were holding onto you for dear life. Hmmmmm. Maybe I should reset so you understand even more. This preschool was your typical, small, one-room, one-teacher/one-cook preschool. I counted about 75 kids in this room. There is no way on earth this one teacher could EDUCATE all these children. I do believe that it was all she could do (god bless her) to keep them in the room. And forget education, there's no way these kids are getting individual affection. Teachers mobbed, parents trying to work ...

Now, realize that in the townships where these kids are growing up, there are the further problems of about 35% unemployment (because the government has forcibly, artificially moved people around, so there are areas where there are waaaaaaaay too many workers and other where there are now not enough), women who aspire to have children (where isn't this the case, really?), shebeens (aka, pubs where men drink; again, where isn't this the case?), and an educational system compromised by overcrowding and misinformation (aka, president Thabo Mbeki, who in the past has asserted that HIV is not the cause of AIDs and who has fueled conspiracy theories, true or not, about the role of western pharmaceutical companies in the spread of the disease).

On overcrowding: We visited what is called a hostel - originally built for men who were forcibly moved to the area from other parts of South Africa to serve as forced laborers. Hostels, which in the U.S. would comfortably house two people, now house THREE FAMILIES. People are on top of each other all the time. As our tour guide Sam ever-so-subtley put it, "There is no privacy." If you get his hint.

On misinformation: We visited a "healer." OK, while healers are respected and part of tradition, this was a dude in a shanty that does not get electrical service who grinds up bits of snake skins and bone and uses that to cure people's ailments, INCLUDING HIV. Today, while we were in the market, one of the vendors was telling us about the meanings of all the carved stones he was selling, including the marijuana leaf. He told us it was used to CURE HIV. Sam told us that the townships are also beset by violence and that adds to the problem. Some of the residents take the attitude that if the HIV/AIDS doesn't kill them, violence will, so what is the point of getting educated about it?

It is such a spiral that I can't even opine about it. All I can think about is how it felt to be hugged by children who have nothing, want nothing but your affection, and who face an uncertain future.

Cape Peninsula w/photos

Well, we just got back from the Labia. ?!?! What?! The labia?! Yep, that's the name of the mall around the corner from here where the movie theater is! We just had a delicious Indian dinner there after a very long day. I am so tired right now, that as far as coherency goes, this entry may be less so than the drunken blog. On the upside, I am the proud new owner of a nonfunctioning rental car remote, something I never thought I'd be when the day started out.

We woke up, refreshed after our side trip and a good night's sleep, ready to hit the Cape Peninsula in all it's glory. The first place we stopped was Simon's Town to visit "The Boulders," where there is a colony of penguins. You can scramble right up next to them. D had a field day taking their portraits and they really hammed it up for the camera. It's amazing how social they are. Farther down on the beach was an area where people were swimming and laying out, with penguins waddling around right next to them! The penguins were cute and all, but what I thought was even cooler were all the little tidal pools that had formed all over the boulders. They were little worlds unto themselves, inhabited by anemones, starfish (hard to the touch), little fish and snails. We also saw a giant jellyfish (think a little bigger than the size of a deflated basketball) on the beach; it was squishy to the touch.

After Simon's Town, we kept up our journey down the peninsula and wound up in Cape Peninsula National Park, where we climbed all the way to the tippy top of Cape Point at the very tip of the peninsula (check it out: http://www.capepoint.co.za/). It was really a hike and there were people from all over the world along the way. At the top, outside the lighthouse, there was a post with signs pointing in all directions of the world with different distances, so we took some pictures of D under the sign pointing to New York. : )

Then, we headed over to the tidal pools, which, for those of you who aren't familiar with them (I wasn't before I got here) are (roughly) Olympic pool-size areas of ocean cordoned off with cement walls to protect you from the rocks and creatures of the sea, but still allow you to swim. We were sooooooo excited to swim after our long, sweaty climb. But, oddly, the pool was totally empty of people when we got there. So, I ran down and put my toe in to find out if maybe it was just cold (the wind was whipping up a storm) and boy was it! We decided to just hang out in the car and take in the view for a while. As we sat, watching, a rotund, reddish-pink man wearing a Speedo and carrying a thermometer trotted down to the water from a picnic across the way. He spent the better part of 15 minutes taking the water temperature, putting his toe in, taking it out, walking away, coming back, and finally getting in the water, in what we decided was a big fuck you to me, after he'd seen my wussy one-toe-in performance. He was going to show me how it's done. D named him "The Big Baby" because he kind of toddled around like one and his Speedo really did bear a striking resemblence to a diaper. Sad as we were that we didn't get to swim in the tidal pool, watching The Big Baby's antics made the stop worth it.

We left the park then and headed back up the peninsula, parking on a cliff along the way to watch some guys paragliding and parasailing in the wild ocean - amazing! We decided to wrap up the day in Sea Point at the top of the Cape Peninsula. At one point, South Africa was vying to be an Olympic host city and in their bid to win the honor, built their Olympic swimming and diving facility in Sea Point right on the beach. I mean steps from the ocean. Unfortunately for SA, they didn't get the Olympics, BUT, they did get to keep the pools, which they opened to the public and that's where we wound up this afternoon. I jumped off the high diving board and even though I had no skillz like the other jumpers, it was still a rush. We lazed about in the kiddy pool and swam a lap in the gigantor lap pool. It was the perfect end to a great day. OR SO WE THOUGHT!! We got back into the car, talking about what we were going to eat, how tired we were, how good a shower would feel, etc. Key in the ignition, ready to hear the motor turn. Nothing. Again, Nothing. We finally figured out that I'd put the keys in the pocket of D's swim trunks and the alarm remote had gotten wet and now the car was permanently armed, therefore preventing us from starting it. So, we had to use the pay phone to get in touch with the rental company, only, the pay phone kept spontaneously hanging up on us in the middle of conversations as we stood in our soggy pool gear on the side of the main drag while the sun went down. Finally, Codwell, the very nice man from the rental car place showed up (bedecked in a lovely suit!) to rescue us and we were once again on our way, thankful our breakdown came in this situation instead of out in the middle of the desolate rocky plains we'd traversed the day before.

Now, we're home, fed and ready to shower off and hit the sack so we can wake up early tomorrow to visit Robben Island (where Nelson Mandela and thousands of others were imprisoned) and several of the Cape townships.

Today's vocab:

bathing suit = costume

We love you guys!!!

: )

Cross-country drive w/photos

Hello from Paradise! Backpackers Paradise, that is, our hostel here in Outdshoorn (about an hour and a half inland, midway along the southern coast of South Africa)!

We wound up here after visiting the Garden Route Game Lodge, where we went on two safaris and saw elephants, giraffes, zebras, rhinos, lions, etc. (more to come later). Last night, we visited the national landmark Cango Caves (http://www.places.co.za/html/cango.html), which were amazing and went out for Valentine's dinner, where our waitress spoke five languages and had worked as an English teacher in South Korea and New York.

On our way to the park from Cape Town, we took a southerly turn to visit the southernmost point in all of Africa: Cape Agulhas. The town itself, I likened to an African Laguna Beach. And, really, much of what we've seen along the coast looks soooooooooooo much like SoCal! Cape Town has that feel, and D adds, a touch of the Bahamas. But, I've got to tell you, driving inland, it's nothing like what we expected (i.e. grassy savannah bending and swaying in the wind with sturdy trees dotting the horizon and lions and zebras peeking out). There are three different landscapes we keep seeing.

1) Eroded fields that stretch as far as you can see, where the land was cleared of its native vegetation for farming by the Dutch and now looks like the face of the moon, with only a few blades of dried grass here or there and sheep around every bend.
2) Breathtakingly beautiful, awesome (in the true sense of the word), Middle Earth-looking mountains painted with striking colors: Bright blue, bright green, slate gray, white boulders. As we drove into the mountains, we saw some baboons just hanging out on the side of the highway and later on, we saw sheep scrabbling up along the craggy top of a mountain.
3) Idyllic famlands in the valleys of the mountains, green grasses blowing in the wind, blue skies, windy little rivers and ostriches around every bend.

Let's talk about ostriches. They love their ostriches here. This morning, we had fresh, scrambled ostrich eggs for breakfast and they were quite delicious! We ate with a British couple who told us about the failed efforts to farm ostriches in the wet climate of Norfolk, England, when ostriches were "all the rage." There are all kinds of things made out of ostriches here (besides the food), including leather, decorative eggs, feather dusters, key chains, you name it! There are ostrich farms you can tour and they have ostrich races too (yes, people ride ostriches). But, there is a worrisome cloud on the ostrich horizon: As we've been driving, we've been listening to the South African public radio, which is abuzz with news about bird flu in Nigeria and elsewhere in Africa. Check it out:

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/africa/02/12/nigeria.flu.reut/index.html

This morning, we're getting ready to head out for a tour of the winelands on our way back to Cape Town! Hope you all had a good Valentine's Day!

Love you!

Leslie

Notes from the market w/photos

This one'll be a quickie.

Just in case we aren't able to check in for the next few days, here's what we'll be up to: We're driving to a game park today (wish us luck driving on the left-hand side of the road) and we'll go on a safari tonight and another in the morning. Tomorrow afternoon we're going to go goof around at the beach at Mossel Bay on the Indian Ocean and then drive north to Outsdhoorn, where we'll spend the night and then go cave diving the next day. After that, we'll be driving home through wine country. We should get back to The Backpack on Wednesday or Thursday night.

Just a couple notes from yesterday: We woke up early and headed over to the market to buy presents. Here are some tips about these kinds of markets I'd like to offer:

1) Take a variety of change. A common scam: Say you agree on a price of $80 and give the vendor $100. Sometimes they will say they have no change and try to screw you. Avoid this by having exact change handy.
2) Throw a couple newspapers in your bags when you're packing. That way, if you buy something fragile, you can wrap it up so that it stays safe on the way hom.
3) You are going to see the same crap a million times over, so you don't need to start buying stuff up like a maniac straight out of the gate. Get a feel for what they're charging for stuff so you know what to bargain for.
4) If you engage a vendor in a bargaining battle and agree on a price, you should complete the sale. It's really rude to just walk away at the point, so unless you plan to buy, don't start a full-scale bargaining episdoe.

After the market, we came home, assessed our wares and then walked down to long street and split a pitcher of "The Green One" (lemondade, vodka and apple schnaps) and watched people walk by on the sidewalk. A beautiful lazy afternoon. There was a really good DJ playing a lot of Marley and the like and a hilarious picture of two mating rats casting a shadow on the wall entitled, "Two dirty fucking rats." Afterwards, we walked across the street to a little Mexican hole in the wall and had some DEE-lish food. Then, we came home and relaxed.

LOVE YOU!!!

Vocab:

traffic light = robot
gas station = garage or petrol station
gas = petrol (which, by the way costs about the same here)

Cape Town and Table Top Mountain w/photos

OK, I think we've all learned a lesson from my last post: Do not drink and blog. My apologies for that stroke of genius. Another piece of business before I tell you about yesterday: If you're in The D, make sure you go down and visit THE DIRTY SHOW (http://www.dirtyshow.org/) - hope it's a great one Robin!

We had another great day yesterday. In the morning, we walked downtown, to the scene of the previous night's crimes to get some cash from the ATM. You have to be careful around here about taking cash out from the ATM because they say there's a lot fraud (or so we've been told). There are police officers all over the place who guard the ATMs and also, oddly, there are "parking marshalls," whose necessity we can't quite understand. They just stand along the sides of the road and tell people how to park (like they can't figure it out themselves?); it's like those people in bar bathrooms who expect a tip for handing you the napkin you could have pulled down yourself. In defense of the parking marshall, they do make it easier to pay your parking tickets: you can do it right there on the side of the road.

But I digress. Once we had cash in hand, we hopped on the the Hop On/Hop Off bus (which only costs $90R, which is about $15 - we think, and D points out that, and I think this goes without saying, that NEITHER of us are a math whiz). Anyway, this double-decker bus with an open-air top goes in a loop around the city, up the mountain and out along the coast while a guide narrates the key points along the journey. It's a really good value and yesterday's guide made me a lot less angry than the first day's Eurocentric, sweaty, make-up running-down-her face, sausage-fingered guide. An example.

Sausage fingers: And, to our left, you'll see the first tree ever planted in Africa! The Dutch planted it in 1688!

New guide: And, to our left, you'll see the first tree the Dutch planted here, in 1688.

The Hop On/Hop Off is a favorite of what D affectionately calls the "Khaki Patrol" (he is so jealous of their style): The older crowd, mostly Europeans, who come in what appears to be a uniform that they've agreed upon before traveling to this country. It's pretty standard, but there are a few variations because some of them like to get a little flashy. You MUST wear khakis (preferably pleated) and if you're feeling saucy, you can wear khaki shorts. You will either wear sensible orthopedic-looking shoes or Teva sandals with socks underneath. You will either sport gigantic wrap-around sunglasses or a huge wicker or khaki fabric hat (D describes as the "Indiana Jones" hat) with a little drawstring pulled up all the way to your chin. You will wear either a neutral-colored shirt (light blue is popular) or a T-shirt that says "Cape Town." A camera will dangle around your neck OR a fanny pack will adorn your fanny. FYI: Some British people in our hostel were mocking a Canadian they met for using the term "fanny pack," but I didn't catch the word they thought you should use instead. (One more style note: It seems like the bra is not too poplar with people who live here. We've seen all kinds of dangly jubblies bouncing and swinging around and I have seen more women's nipples/aeriolas through their shirts than I'd see if I leafed through Playboy. And, we're not just talking about young, attractive women here. But, I must admit, I'm coming to understand them and fantasize about letting the girls loose. It's hot man!)

So, we took the Hop On to the District Six museum, which was at the same time heartbreaking and inspiring. Apartheid has definitely left a scar on "The Rainbow Nation." Driving in from the airport, we passed an area coming into the city that looked like a war zone or (and I apologize to Detroit for this, but I'm trying to give you a visual) a decimated part of Detroit. Land full of rubble, falling-down apartment buildings with no cars parked outside, barbed wire. It was eerie (sp?). Our first day on the Hop On we found out it was District Six, a once-vibrant neighborhood where residents of mixed-race or who were black lived and worked. In 1966, the goverment decided to reconfigure the city in a modern, geometric grid and set about relocating the District Six residents to the outskirts of the city (called townships). Then, they razed most of the houses and busineses, destroying an entire community (not just houses, understand, but a community: jazz groups, beauty shops, etc.). Yesterday, when we went to the museum was the 40th anniversary of the relocation effort. There was a man touring the exhibits alongside us with what appeared to be his daughter, taking her past every picture, telling her about the people in them and his personal knowledge of the district. His family had lived there and their house had been destroyed. One of the displays talked about a maternity hospital that was one of the very few buildings spared the wrecking ball. A nurse testified that after the demolition of the district, there were no longer any buildings or plants to prevent erosion and terrible winds would whip up sand storms that forced them to stay inside, even as the sand crept in under doors and through cracks (and remember, this country is HOT, the sun in burning, blinding, blazing and the only way to keep cool is to have the breeze blowing through open doors and windows). The most twisted thing about it all is that the government eventually decided to give the district back to the original residents or pay them restitution. So in the end, all these people's lives were ripped apart to accomplish nothing. But, I said the museum was also inspiring too: At a certain point, the people had finally had enough. They weren't going to take any more. They were going to risk their lives to reclaim their autonomy and dignity. There were restrictive pass laws that required them to carry ID books at all times. If they didn't have their ID book on them, they'd be taken away and thrown in the slammed. One of the resistance leaders came up with the idea for everyone to show up on one day at police stations across the land without their pass books and demand to be arrested, in an effort to clog up the jails. During a sister act of protest in Sharpeville, chaos broke out and police shot and killed 69 protesters. But, by then, the resistance movement's momentum was unstoppable. It would be many years before the fall of apartheid, but the ball was in motion.

Next, we took a cable car up to the tippy top of Table Mountain. This is the part of the day where I started to become delirious (remember, we'd been out at the bar until 4:00 and woke up around 7:00, it was very hot and I may still have been drunk when we started out). For example: I pointed at a cloud shadow on the mountain in front of us and excitedly exclaimed to D, "Look at the dog!" The ride up was magnificent and a little scary. The cable cars were really cool because the floor rotated so everyone got a chance to see all the views. Up at the top, we took some great pictures - you can see forever, all the way out across the plains ... one woman said, quite authoritatively, to her boyfriend, "You can see for millions of miles."

At this point, I'd developed quite the case of the verbal diarrhea. I COULD NOT STOP TALKING. Without even thinking, I heard myself say, "You know what?!" as though I had a story to tell, only, there was no story. I had nothing. While we were waiting for the Hop On, D put me on a talking timeout, which I was forced to break in order to share a brilliant Baskin&Robbins rap I wrote in my head to the tune of 50 Cent's Candy Shop. A couple choice bits:

"burn a little greenery" = come on down to the ice creamery

"50's in the house, bounce" = 32 flavors in the house, bounce

We took the Hop On to the waterfront, had lunch/dinner, missed the last bus and walked through the city back to our hostel. The walk, even though long and while we were exhausted, was nice. We went through the marina and saw sailboats heading out to sea and through a craft mall (like Gibraltar Trade Center but without the rednecks and gun and knife show; don't worry, the astrologers and tarot card readers - some things never change), and of course, the weather is always brilliant, so it feels good just to be outside and alive. When we got home, we laid down in a little alcove outside our room and read some magazines while we intermittently watched clouds creep in over the mountain and napped. Finally, we went inside and passed out early.

Today's a new day! Can't wait to see what it will bring!

Love you!

A little vocab:

Katsup = Tomato sauce (a side note: I kept ordering katsup and every time, they kept saying, "Oh, you mean tomato sauce?" So, finally, yesterday, I decided to aks for tomato sauce, and the guy responded, "What? You want Schmirnoff?" What?! When did I say anthing about Schmirnoff? I mean, I did drink a Mojito at 11 a.m. the first day we were here, but I just don't want a Bloody Mary right now, man. I replied, "Tomato sauce" (pointing at my fries). He retorts, "Where are you from? Oh ... the U.S.? You know, we know what katsup is. You can just order katsup."

Bacon-and-egg roll = Egg sandwich with (Canadian) bacon

Coloured = South Africans of mixed race

Drunken post w/photos

HALOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

OK, people we've been down on Long Street for a few hours; it's the main street for partying in Cape Town, and we've indulged in a few different bars, with my amiable traveling companion indulging me in dancing!!! For those of you who know me well ... imagine my pleasure! The day has been fantasic _ we fi sooooooooooooooiooooo much in!! Walked around the city, seeing the Green Market, the Company Gardens (where we saw photog taking pics of a woman in fire-engine red bondage gear), the South Africa National Gallery, where we say a lot of moving art, to the point that I cried, BUT, that was all made up for with a graphic and literal piece called "Horse on Man on Horse on Man," which reallly compensated for any melancholy. Let's just be honest, horses are HOT. So much more to say ... we took the Hop on Hop Off (aka rewrite shitty-ass history bus so that it's cheery happy by making it sound like the whole fucking country is happy about racial and otherwise injustice. AKA: (as narrated by our tour guide: "the coloreds were moved, but, the happy news is, tomorrow isthe 40th anniversary and they are being allowed to move back (because a taboo developed and none of the whites would move into the neighborhood); however, some of them (the displaced coloreds) are not happy. They say what has been taken can never be replaced, even by $1,7000 R (which translates .

But, that's not to make it sound like it was all bad! It was amazingling beautiful! We woke up to a view of blazing blue skies under Table Mountian and a calico cat winking outside our window, which we slept with open all night. We ate a breakfast of ostrich steak (mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMM!), poached egg, toast, fruit salad, tea, coffee and juice at the foot of the mountian.

Then, we went out walking around town, to Green Square, where all the artisans sell their wares, and then we sat down on the stairs off a church to consult the map and plot our next move. We were confronted by a man who said to D, "Hey, my brother, why are you sitting on these steps? That is not good. I am so disappointed in you." We were so admonished by the gravity with which his words were delivered that we skedaddled. Later, we came to find out that the church was one where Archibishop Rev. Tutu had preached many of his sermons.

Really, that was just the start of a long, happy day, so I will wind up for now and give you the details later.

P.S. D and I went dancing. For anyone knows me: i am happy - ecstatic!

I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!

ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Leslie

Finally here!

Loved ones!!!

After a looooooooooooooong journey across three continents and an ocean, we are sitting in an open-air bar in our hostel, feeling the warm breeze at the foot of Table Mountain, drinking some cold, delicious beers and listening to some great music. It is very close to heaven. We are excited and happy and will be back with more details tomorrow! Just wanted to check in and let you know we're safe and sound and ready to explore!

Leslie

Vacation excitation

Tomorrow at this time, I should be on the bird, flying to South Africa. There'll be a three-hour layover in Amsterdam - but we figured we'd wind up spending the whole vacation in the Red Light District if we tried to fit it in! And, I certainly don't want to miss out on what's planned (and unplanned!): A stay at The Backpack hostel in Cape Town, with visits to Robben Island, the townships, Table Mountain and wine country; a drive along the Garden Route; a visit to Addo Elephant Park; and, hopefully, a romantic Valentine's Day in the beach town of Port Elizabeth, which is on the Indian Ocean. Then, we'll return to Cape Town for more fun in the sun, surf lessons and whatever else we can sink our teeth into!

I hope you'll all come along with us (at least electronically)! I'll try to post news of our adventures every day or two on this blog and I'll be checking my e-mail!

Love you!

Leslie