So why do my blog posts jump from June 28 to August 28? Why did it take me more than two months to blog about the coolest day of my life (the day with rhinos)? Why was I able to find the time while studying abroad and doing crazy things to write about every little detail of my experience but it took me two months to finish it. Two months to open my blog again. Two months to revisit this experience.
My intention was to finish my blog posts the week I returned, before I started work. Many of them had actually been written by hand in my journal during my last few days in South Africa or my many hours on the plane during the trip home. I didn't open my blog for two months. I didn't look at it. I didn't write.
Sure, I talked about it a lot. Everyone asked how it was. Everyone wanted to know what South Africa was like what I did. I got exhausted answering the question "How was it? "Did you like it?" It was too hard to simplify in an answer. I didn't want to launch into the real full story to people. So I became complacent in answering "It was awesome. I did a lot of cool things. Got to meet a lot of really cool people. It's really different there." Sometimes, of course, I'd give more detail. I figured out a spiel that encompassed my bungee jumping, working with rhinos, getting chased by an ostrich, going on safari, volunteering in Kayamandi, visiting public health clinics and hospitals, doing a homestay, meeting a sangoma, eating a mopani worm, taking classes in Stellenbosch, hiking Lion's Head in Cape Town, and usually getting my purse stolen... Those I guess were the things that stuck out in my mind, that were easy to explain.
But of course there's so much more to it than that. There's so much more than this blog could ever encompass and even my journal.
I'll be honest, being home has been rough. Readjusting to life here has been tough. Processing is a difficult process. One I was too afraid to do at first. One I didn't take the time or effort to do. Because I launched into hanging out with family, traveling around America (I've been to Nebraska, South Dakota, Wyoming and Colorado on a road trip with family; DC, Maryland and Virginia to visit my awesome high school friends; Des Moines for the Iowa State Fair; Evanston to see NU friends; I'm going to California to visit relatives and see Northwestern football), taking a job, getting into shape at the gym, shadowing a vet and applying to vet school. As usual, I pushed myself too hard. And one very important thing was left out - letting myself process South Africa, readjust, talk and think about my experiences there. And in the hustle and bustle that became my summer life, I didn't take any time to write about my experiences like I had done while I was there with this blog. And that was a bad decision. I mean, I obviously wrote all my vet school application essays and many of them involved South Africa, but it definitely wasn't the same thing.
I can already tell that so many more things about my trip have hit me than hit me on that airplane as it took off and I wrote in my journal in Johannesburg almost two months ago. I've changed and grown a lot. And I know that this is a journey and a process that has just begun. Ironically, I journaled all about my journey...and the biggest stages of the growth have all occurred since I quit blogging, since I got home. I wish I had stuck with it for the first week, but I can't go back and change any of that. So yeah, this is why it took me so long to finish.
On Wednesday, August 28th, I opened my journal because I was finally writing my final summary for my undergraduate research grant that I did this summer on rhino conservation methods after conducting a huge literature review and having my conclusions, I wanted to go read about my field observations in my journal to incorporate those into my summary. Well, naturally, I got to reading it and just sat down and read and read. I found the blog posts I had written by hand and told myself "Marie, it's time to get some closure on this experience, to further the processing. It's time to finish the blog." I don't know if I'll print it all out and put in a binder. If I'll show it to friends and/or family. If I'll share it with people in my life whom I try to tell about South Africa. If I'll sit and read it sometimes when I'm missing South Africa and wondering what I actually felt at the moment in time when I was there. It all happened so fast. It flew by. Maybe I'll never open this webpage again. Maybe just knowing that it's done and complete in cyberspace will be the closure I need on this experience. Maybe it'll inspire me to continue writing/journaling for myself. Maybe it'll help me finally be home.
So, here it is. My final farewell. This has been the greatest experience ever. I've loved it. I've hated it. I've wanted it to end. I've wanted it to never end. I've grown. I've made mistakes. I've laughed. And yes, I've cried. I've smiled. I've hurt. I've felt empowered to change the world. I've felt hope. I've felt hopeless. I've realized more and more who I am and what my role in the world is. In the good times and bad, I've learned. And that's what it really was supposed to be about in the beginning, wasn't it? Study abroad. Well the study doesn't just happen in foreign classrooms and textbooks. It happens in the classroom yes, but also in the dorm room, the streets, the daycare center I volunteered at, the bush, the helicopter, the safari vehicle, the diamond mine, hanging 216 meters below a bridge suspended by nothing but a bungee cord, bouncing around the bed of a pick-up truck trying to stabilize a drugged sable bull and not get pronged by his horns; it happens half way up Lion's Head mountain on a difficult hike, in the grocery store, in the crime reporting booth of a police station, in the pew of a church, in the waiting room at a doctor's office, on the Indian Ocean beach while chasing a sky lantern at night, in the sangoma's hut in a rural village without electricity or water...essentially everywhere you go. Sometimes you're aware it's happening. Sometimes you have no idea.
Sometimes a few months later you randomly remember an incident and realize it affected you. You're standing in a livestock expo at the Iowa State Fair and see an ostrich and you panic and run. Forgetting that he's in a cage. You've been back in the States for almost two months and you're standing in a crowded room and look around you and all of a sudden realize that instead of being the only white person there, there isn't a single non-white person there...and it weirds you out. You're in the grocery store and see something you had missed, you notice the brand names all sound familiar, and you have the sudden sensation that your world is so tiny, that the world outside is huge. Your car AC is broken so you roll down the windows on the freeway and don't even mind the hair blowing all over your face because you've been driving down roads without any windshield at these speeds for hours at a time. You hear yourself start every other sentence with "When I was in South Africa..." and realize that 1) that's obnoxious and 2) you learned a lot and 3) you have too much to say and 4) wow! I had so many experiences and 5) I guess I really miss it a lot. You realize you haven't thought about South Africa in a day or two and it's weird but you realize that life goes on. You realize that something else (I swear that purse must have had a million items in it!) was in that stolen purse that fateful May day in Cape Town. You realize you don't have something and it's inconvenient...and then you remember having nothing in South Africa and that it's really ok. You feel squished and then suddenly you remember the kids in one of the creches in Kayamandi. You look in the fridge and say there's nothing good in here, and then you think...you could be eating pap for every meal of your life. You're driving through a neighborhood and stop at a red light and all of a sudden you see Kayamandi in your head. You try to picture this neighborhood in South Africa and you can't. You think almost as an outsider and picture this little street as America. You realize how fortunate and blessed you are. You randomly check the News24 website just to make sure you haven't missed something super important. And you periodically check to see if Nelson Mandela is still alive. And yes, although they wanted to pull the plug on him two months ago, he lived to see his 95th birthday and a month beyond...he is still alive as of now. Just more proof that the world can always surprise you. I was certain he would die before I left the country. Two months later, he's alive and stable. When things look bleak, don't despair. When the going is tough, when it is almost impossible to take another breath, things can turn around, you can pull through.
Someday this experience will be years behind me. But I can always have the memories and the growth. I can continue to let it change me into a stronger, better person. Maybe someday I'll go back. Maybe I won't. But I do know that South Africa will always be close to my heart. It has changed me. It is a part of who I am.
The Best View in all of Stellenbosch
Stellenbosch: the city and the mountains as seen from Kayamandi township
Thursday, August 29, 2013
64. I'm Home!
Home is great. It's good to be with family. To see my parents, brother, sister, grandparents, aunt and uncle, cousins.
The next day I had to go to the DMV and was suddenly struggling with being angry and resentful at the man who had stolen my purse...because there was a really long wait at the DMV. But I got my license and yay that was taken care of.
The day after that was the 4th of July. What a great day to return to America! We celebrated with all the traditional American stuff. So I was really happy to be home for that. And then the next day, we all went to the Royals game because they were playing the A's. So I mean hot dogs, baseball, singing the national anthem, family, fireworks...what more could I ask for? I don't think anything else could have said "Welcome back to America!" as much as those things did :)
I know it'll take a long time to process South Africa. To process home. To process the things I saw and learned. But I am glad I had the trip. I miss South Africa a little bit already. I'm slowly adjusting back to the time/season here in Kansas. And I start a new job on Monday July 8th after my training session at the gym. So back to real life, hitting the ground running!
The next day I had to go to the DMV and was suddenly struggling with being angry and resentful at the man who had stolen my purse...because there was a really long wait at the DMV. But I got my license and yay that was taken care of.
The day after that was the 4th of July. What a great day to return to America! We celebrated with all the traditional American stuff. So I was really happy to be home for that. And then the next day, we all went to the Royals game because they were playing the A's. So I mean hot dogs, baseball, singing the national anthem, family, fireworks...what more could I ask for? I don't think anything else could have said "Welcome back to America!" as much as those things did :)
I know it'll take a long time to process South Africa. To process home. To process the things I saw and learned. But I am glad I had the trip. I miss South Africa a little bit already. I'm slowly adjusting back to the time/season here in Kansas. And I start a new job on Monday July 8th after my training session at the gym. So back to real life, hitting the ground running!
63. The Long Journey Home
Well the journey home was filled with lots of anticipation, yawns, a little sleep (yay!) and a heart stopping moment.
Sometime in the middle of the night on the plane over Africa, I don't know what time it was, but we were over the DRC according to the map on the seat in front of me, and I think someone smoked in the lavatory because the fire alarm in the plane went off. Scariest minute of my life. Maybe more scary then getting chased by that ostrich the second time? Ok, maybe not. But probably tied. But then the alarm went off after a few minutes of the flight attendants running around panicking and everyone waking up, realizing what that noise was and screaming. I didn't scream, but just sat there kind of like WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? THIS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! All I could think of was that the DRC was a really bad place to crash land because we'd probably get killed or taken hostage or something. I wasn't really concerned about the whole 39,000 foot drop through the sky on a burning plane to the ground... Getting shot by insurgents would be the least of my worries... but that's the thing about the fire alarm going off on a plane in the middle of the night - you don't think rationally. You just don't.
I also had the winning seat because the lady in the seat in front of me reclined her seat as far as it could go. Her kid screamed too, but that didn't bother me at all. Kayamandi prepared me for that! :)
The trip home was also weird in that I had a lot of breakfast. So the British Airways flight between Joburg and Cape Town fed us breakfast when we were somewhere over northern France before we landed in London. (Breakfast #1) It was barely light outside, London local time was 4:55am when we landed. Who eats breakfast before 5 o'clock in the morning anyway?!
So I got off the plane and was in this huge over-the-top glamorous department store type terminal with lots of duty-free international shops. Mostly make-up and stuff. Lots of designer products. Anyway... I saw a Starbucks, and although I don't like coffee and almost never drink Starbucks at home, I had this sudden recollection that Starbucks exists - hey there, Northern Hemisphere! and felt the first tingling sensation of *home*. So I promptly went and ordered an iced mocha and a banana. (Breakfast #2) I also had a random freakout moment when I was like IT'S SUMMER! Because even though it had been probably hotter in Limpopo than in London, it was technically winter in Limpopo and summer in London. Random...I'm such a weirdo.
I got on my flight to Chicago after a few hours layover in London, but it was around 8 in the morning I think. So naturally, they fed us breakfast on the flight just after we took off (Breakfast #3). On that flight I sat in the middle of the middle section, between two really cool people who wanted to know all about my experiences, so I didn't journal, but just talked to them the whole time. One was a guy on his way back form a mission trip in Kenya. And the other was a lady on her way back home in Hawaii and she was coming from Turkey and Greece since she was a Biology and Classics major in college. WUTTT? Anyway, that was cool :) Right before we landed, American Airlines wanted to feed us another meal, and since local time in Chicago was 9am...they fed us breakfast...again. (Breakfast #4).
When I got back to Chicago, went through customs, easy peasy lemon squeezy. And then bam was back in America! It was so weird/great/almost anti-climactic, but still pretty awesome. I went and sat in my same spot that I'd been sitting in - exact same spot in the foodcourt by the H/K terminals because there's free wi-fi there - right before I took off for London way back when on April 1. I had this weird "did I even go on this trip or was that just a dream?" feeling which was really disappointing because I wanted to be entirely changed and a new person and blah blah blah. But it takes time for things to change you... I wasn't thinking that clearly at the time. I'd been awake for like 40 hours or something like that. And traversed two hemispheres. Well I was actually a bit hungry, believe it or not, so I decided to grab lunch. And I was looking for somewhere to eat when I walked past Great American Bagel Co. and all of a sudden remembered that bagels existed. They don't in South Africa so I was like OMG I WANT A BAGEL! So I had a bagel for lunch at about 11am. So that was basically breakfast #5. Too. Many. Breakfasts. But if it's lunch then that means I had Monday night dinner in Jozi, Tuesday morning breakfast in London and Tuesday lunch in Chicago. Pretty crazy! Three meals. Three continents.
So I got on my last tiny little plane for Kansas City. It was empty, but there was a lady sitting two seats over from me and we got to chatting and she actually went to Northwestern, dated all the football players in the 1950s. Haha. But it was fun to talk to her. And talking to a NU alum felt like a tiny taste of home!
Then I landed, met mom at the airport and got that huge hug I'd been waiting for and drove home and went to bed pretty early. I had no idea what day it was. What month it was. What season it was. What time it was. But none of that mattered. Because I am home.
Sometime in the middle of the night on the plane over Africa, I don't know what time it was, but we were over the DRC according to the map on the seat in front of me, and I think someone smoked in the lavatory because the fire alarm in the plane went off. Scariest minute of my life. Maybe more scary then getting chased by that ostrich the second time? Ok, maybe not. But probably tied. But then the alarm went off after a few minutes of the flight attendants running around panicking and everyone waking up, realizing what that noise was and screaming. I didn't scream, but just sat there kind of like WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? THIS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! All I could think of was that the DRC was a really bad place to crash land because we'd probably get killed or taken hostage or something. I wasn't really concerned about the whole 39,000 foot drop through the sky on a burning plane to the ground... Getting shot by insurgents would be the least of my worries... but that's the thing about the fire alarm going off on a plane in the middle of the night - you don't think rationally. You just don't.
I also had the winning seat because the lady in the seat in front of me reclined her seat as far as it could go. Her kid screamed too, but that didn't bother me at all. Kayamandi prepared me for that! :)
The trip home was also weird in that I had a lot of breakfast. So the British Airways flight between Joburg and Cape Town fed us breakfast when we were somewhere over northern France before we landed in London. (Breakfast #1) It was barely light outside, London local time was 4:55am when we landed. Who eats breakfast before 5 o'clock in the morning anyway?!
So I got off the plane and was in this huge over-the-top glamorous department store type terminal with lots of duty-free international shops. Mostly make-up and stuff. Lots of designer products. Anyway... I saw a Starbucks, and although I don't like coffee and almost never drink Starbucks at home, I had this sudden recollection that Starbucks exists - hey there, Northern Hemisphere! and felt the first tingling sensation of *home*. So I promptly went and ordered an iced mocha and a banana. (Breakfast #2) I also had a random freakout moment when I was like IT'S SUMMER! Because even though it had been probably hotter in Limpopo than in London, it was technically winter in Limpopo and summer in London. Random...I'm such a weirdo.
I got on my flight to Chicago after a few hours layover in London, but it was around 8 in the morning I think. So naturally, they fed us breakfast on the flight just after we took off (Breakfast #3). On that flight I sat in the middle of the middle section, between two really cool people who wanted to know all about my experiences, so I didn't journal, but just talked to them the whole time. One was a guy on his way back form a mission trip in Kenya. And the other was a lady on her way back home in Hawaii and she was coming from Turkey and Greece since she was a Biology and Classics major in college. WUTTT? Anyway, that was cool :) Right before we landed, American Airlines wanted to feed us another meal, and since local time in Chicago was 9am...they fed us breakfast...again. (Breakfast #4).
When I got back to Chicago, went through customs, easy peasy lemon squeezy. And then bam was back in America! It was so weird/great/almost anti-climactic, but still pretty awesome. I went and sat in my same spot that I'd been sitting in - exact same spot in the foodcourt by the H/K terminals because there's free wi-fi there - right before I took off for London way back when on April 1. I had this weird "did I even go on this trip or was that just a dream?" feeling which was really disappointing because I wanted to be entirely changed and a new person and blah blah blah. But it takes time for things to change you... I wasn't thinking that clearly at the time. I'd been awake for like 40 hours or something like that. And traversed two hemispheres. Well I was actually a bit hungry, believe it or not, so I decided to grab lunch. And I was looking for somewhere to eat when I walked past Great American Bagel Co. and all of a sudden remembered that bagels existed. They don't in South Africa so I was like OMG I WANT A BAGEL! So I had a bagel for lunch at about 11am. So that was basically breakfast #5. Too. Many. Breakfasts. But if it's lunch then that means I had Monday night dinner in Jozi, Tuesday morning breakfast in London and Tuesday lunch in Chicago. Pretty crazy! Three meals. Three continents.
So I got on my last tiny little plane for Kansas City. It was empty, but there was a lady sitting two seats over from me and we got to chatting and she actually went to Northwestern, dated all the football players in the 1950s. Haha. But it was fun to talk to her. And talking to a NU alum felt like a tiny taste of home!
Then I landed, met mom at the airport and got that huge hug I'd been waiting for and drove home and went to bed pretty early. I had no idea what day it was. What month it was. What season it was. What time it was. But none of that mattered. Because I am home.
62. Tot Siens/ Hambakakuhle / Tata / Goodbye, South Africa!
All good things must come to an end. Monday morning, the first day of July, was my last day in South Africa. I woke up on the game farm and packed everything up in my two suitcases and brought them downstairs and then I just chilled with the dogs for the rest of the day. I went on a walk and saw the rhinos. The dogs chased them. I also saw an ostrich from afar but it didn't see me, so I snuck away, my heart pounding in fear until I was far away. Seeing rhinos on a walk is about one of the coolest things that can happen. I played with the puppies who were all adorable and cuddly and getting bigger every day.
I didn't have to leave until 12:30pm, and the morning kinda dragged by, I was filled with such anticipation. I journaled a lot and wrote out some of these blog posts in my notebook, because I didn't want to waste my computer battery since it had to make it all the way back home without a recharge and I wanted to use it on the plane.
It was such a weird feeling finally getting ready to leave. I couldn't wait. I was nervous. I was excited. I was sad. I was thrilled. I was confused. Anyway, I think I learned a lot about myself going through that, so it was good. And in a way, I'm glad I was alone so I could think and process.
Both Ben and Bossie showed up to drive me to the airport, which was cute and I think it means they both like me. Or at least they're not sick of me after driving and flying me around for the past 16 days. We drove Ben's tiny little sports car that doesn't really have a backseat. I mean technically it does, but it's so small that I couldn't sit upright. Hahah! So that was fun. Fortunately, he could drive it like 160kph so the drive was pretty quick back to Hoedspruit. They both helped me check in at the airport...there's only one gate. I mean it's not really even a gate. It's just a restaurant/gift shop / seating area. You walk through a metal detector and show the inside of your bag to someone who peeks at it for about 5 seconds and then you walk onto the plane. Pretty chill. I waved goodbye to Bossie and Ben and then it was time to leave. Joburg, here I come.
On the flight to Joburg, I sat next to a really cool girl from the Netherlands who had spent the last 5 months doing her practicum for her conservation bio major doing elephant research. I was jealous. Haha. But we had a great conversation!
In Johannesburg, I went and collected my luggage and then found international check-in, flirted with the guy at the baggage drop until he let me check both my bags all the way through to Kansas City so all I had to carry was my backpack. I still had about three hours until my flight, so I shopped, grabbed a bite to eat and then sat down at my gate. By now, fortunately, I was a pro at navigating Joburg airport, so that was good. I knew exactly where to go and how to use the bus system to board the airplane. It's complicated, but not too hard. I boarded the massive airplane and was in a middle seat sadly, but whatevs. It's only 12 hours right? haha. I was in between two girls about my age. One had done a two week service trip and the other had done a month long conservation program.
As I was sitting on the airplane in Joburg, waiting to take off, I wrote this in my journal:
"Well, it's 7pm and I'm sitting on a plane in OR Thambo airport runway in Joburg. It's time to say goodbye to South Africa. Wow. I can't believe it. I feel like I just started this journal [note: it's almost completely full...I kept it for my personal thoughts and reflections about myself and such during the trip], this journey. I don't really feel like journaling now actually, but I'll try again when I'm airborne. :) Shap shap Joburg."
The wave of emotions I felt as the plane took off was incredibly strong. I literally had a big knot in my chest and it hurt so bad I didn't think I could breathe. I can't believe I just left South Africa. Wow. I've been so homesick the last several days but suddenly I couldn't process leaving. And now I feel as though I may cry. Oooof. Last night was incredible and I know I'll never forget the things I've learned and experienced here. But it's still terrifying to leave. I want to leave some emotions and scary things behind with ostriches and other bad scary things I don't want in my life. I want to leave the hurt at the racism and other things behind. I am happy to be going home. I am sad to leave South Africa. Hey, there's the catch, isn't it?
As I turned the pages of my journal back to Day 1, sitting in Kansas City airport, recovering from mono, so excited for the adventure before me, that first day in South Africa, getting approached by some kids in the grocery store and freaking out, exploring and falling in love with Cape Town, getting to know the kiddos in my creches in Kayamandi, realizing the extent of the poverty and the pain it causes to see the extreme economic disparities, opening my mind and heart to new ways of thinking, new ideas, to getting everything valuable stolen from me that day in Cape Town, to finding it in my heart to forgive, to summoning up the courage to bungee jump...and even more scary, go adventure caving, to forcing myself to crank out all those hundreds of pages of writing for my classes, to learning how to cook on a hot plate without throwing off the electricity for the whole first floor of the dorm building, to seeing a rhino in the wild for the first time on my safari, to meeting a sangoma and asking her some blunt questions about life and health issues in South Africa, to cuddling with an orphaned baby zebra under the stars of the South African night sky...I've learned a lot and made a hell of a lot of mistakes and had a lot of fun adventures and made some amazing friends.
I realize the fullness of this experience isn't going to hit me right now, on the airplane over Africa. But it's going to hit me over the next several months, maybe even year. I'm excited. I'm nervous. I'm curious. I'm so blessed to have had this experience. Now for the long journey home...
I didn't have to leave until 12:30pm, and the morning kinda dragged by, I was filled with such anticipation. I journaled a lot and wrote out some of these blog posts in my notebook, because I didn't want to waste my computer battery since it had to make it all the way back home without a recharge and I wanted to use it on the plane.
It was such a weird feeling finally getting ready to leave. I couldn't wait. I was nervous. I was excited. I was sad. I was thrilled. I was confused. Anyway, I think I learned a lot about myself going through that, so it was good. And in a way, I'm glad I was alone so I could think and process.
Both Ben and Bossie showed up to drive me to the airport, which was cute and I think it means they both like me. Or at least they're not sick of me after driving and flying me around for the past 16 days. We drove Ben's tiny little sports car that doesn't really have a backseat. I mean technically it does, but it's so small that I couldn't sit upright. Hahah! So that was fun. Fortunately, he could drive it like 160kph so the drive was pretty quick back to Hoedspruit. They both helped me check in at the airport...there's only one gate. I mean it's not really even a gate. It's just a restaurant/gift shop / seating area. You walk through a metal detector and show the inside of your bag to someone who peeks at it for about 5 seconds and then you walk onto the plane. Pretty chill. I waved goodbye to Bossie and Ben and then it was time to leave. Joburg, here I come.
On the flight to Joburg, I sat next to a really cool girl from the Netherlands who had spent the last 5 months doing her practicum for her conservation bio major doing elephant research. I was jealous. Haha. But we had a great conversation!
In Johannesburg, I went and collected my luggage and then found international check-in, flirted with the guy at the baggage drop until he let me check both my bags all the way through to Kansas City so all I had to carry was my backpack. I still had about three hours until my flight, so I shopped, grabbed a bite to eat and then sat down at my gate. By now, fortunately, I was a pro at navigating Joburg airport, so that was good. I knew exactly where to go and how to use the bus system to board the airplane. It's complicated, but not too hard. I boarded the massive airplane and was in a middle seat sadly, but whatevs. It's only 12 hours right? haha. I was in between two girls about my age. One had done a two week service trip and the other had done a month long conservation program.
As I was sitting on the airplane in Joburg, waiting to take off, I wrote this in my journal:
"Well, it's 7pm and I'm sitting on a plane in OR Thambo airport runway in Joburg. It's time to say goodbye to South Africa. Wow. I can't believe it. I feel like I just started this journal [note: it's almost completely full...I kept it for my personal thoughts and reflections about myself and such during the trip], this journey. I don't really feel like journaling now actually, but I'll try again when I'm airborne. :) Shap shap Joburg."
The wave of emotions I felt as the plane took off was incredibly strong. I literally had a big knot in my chest and it hurt so bad I didn't think I could breathe. I can't believe I just left South Africa. Wow. I've been so homesick the last several days but suddenly I couldn't process leaving. And now I feel as though I may cry. Oooof. Last night was incredible and I know I'll never forget the things I've learned and experienced here. But it's still terrifying to leave. I want to leave some emotions and scary things behind with ostriches and other bad scary things I don't want in my life. I want to leave the hurt at the racism and other things behind. I am happy to be going home. I am sad to leave South Africa. Hey, there's the catch, isn't it?
As I turned the pages of my journal back to Day 1, sitting in Kansas City airport, recovering from mono, so excited for the adventure before me, that first day in South Africa, getting approached by some kids in the grocery store and freaking out, exploring and falling in love with Cape Town, getting to know the kiddos in my creches in Kayamandi, realizing the extent of the poverty and the pain it causes to see the extreme economic disparities, opening my mind and heart to new ways of thinking, new ideas, to getting everything valuable stolen from me that day in Cape Town, to finding it in my heart to forgive, to summoning up the courage to bungee jump...and even more scary, go adventure caving, to forcing myself to crank out all those hundreds of pages of writing for my classes, to learning how to cook on a hot plate without throwing off the electricity for the whole first floor of the dorm building, to seeing a rhino in the wild for the first time on my safari, to meeting a sangoma and asking her some blunt questions about life and health issues in South Africa, to cuddling with an orphaned baby zebra under the stars of the South African night sky...I've learned a lot and made a hell of a lot of mistakes and had a lot of fun adventures and made some amazing friends.
I realize the fullness of this experience isn't going to hit me right now, on the airplane over Africa. But it's going to hit me over the next several months, maybe even year. I'm excited. I'm nervous. I'm curious. I'm so blessed to have had this experience. Now for the long journey home...
61. My Last Weekend in South Africa.
On Saturday, I checked the farm with Zander, checking on all the black and saddleback and white impalas.
Then I went to a crocodile farm. Need I say more? I think the pictures do a better job. Plus, it means I have to write less.
So just three things:
1) Never smile at a crocodile...clearly I should have taken that into consideration.
2) You know how in car commercials it'll say "Do not attempt at home" when the actors are doing something really really stupid? Well... I think I need to preface these pictures with that. NEVER EVER ATTEMPT. I probs shouldn't have done this. Nobody else I was with did... They thought it was funny to feed the dumb American girl to the crocodiles? Well...ok whatever, I got lucky.
3) Random fact for you: crocodiles can lay up to like a hundred eggs at a time. Kinda scary!
On Sunday, we had caught some klipspringers and moved them to a different farm and gave them some basic treatment. After that, we were done. And Ben and I were just chilling, so he asked me to help him build a new coffee table for his living room. And being the cool guy that he is, this wasn't any ordinary coffee table. Instead of wood, we used old used chopper blades. Naturally. Anyway, it was really cool-looking and I wish I'd had my camera to take a picture because it was awesome and I was quite proud of it. I think he was really happy about it too. We carried it back to his house (oof had to get a serious workout in there) and we put it in his living room and it looked huge. But it was still cool.
While we were putting the finishing touches on that, Ben got a call that a lion had escaped from a reserve and was running loose on the road. Silly lions. So that was our afternoon - helicopter flying to find a renegade lion. Typical. After that, we just chilled for awhile.
At night, the rest of the Osmers family returned from their hunting trip and they brought some hunters from Europe with them. So Sunday night, we had a fancy braai again like the first night, late and outside on the firepit. The food was good and it was nicer this time because I was able to communicate with people and I knew them. So I had a good time. I also made extra certain to help out the cooks and say hi to them and thank them for everything. They were really nice about that. I wish I could have gotten to know them better. Ughhhhhhhh South Africa. Sometimes you make me mad!
Anyway, the hunters had caught a hippo and it was brought back to the farm. We drove down to the meat butchery on the farm to see the hippo. It was huge and gross and smelly. And weird. And very much dead. Lots of dead hippo. I was bored with the dead animal, so while they all took pictures with their trophy and watched it get hauled off the truck, I went and visited the orphaned baby zebras. And cuddled with them and fed them and one of them was nuzzling his little head under my arm for about an hour. It was the sweetest thing ever, like he needed a little TLC. Which I was very happy to provide!
I was sitting under the southern hemisphere stars cuddling an orphaned baby zebra while my host family hauled a hippo carcass off a truck...what a way to spend my last night in South Africa. Then, on the way back to the house before dinner, we had to stop and take a detour because the rhinos were chilling in the road. Refusing to move. So we had to turn around and take the long way back. Oh South Africa. Sometimes you are so uniquely weird and wonderful!
Then I went to a crocodile farm. Need I say more? I think the pictures do a better job. Plus, it means I have to write less.
So just three things:
1) Never smile at a crocodile...clearly I should have taken that into consideration.
2) You know how in car commercials it'll say "Do not attempt at home" when the actors are doing something really really stupid? Well... I think I need to preface these pictures with that. NEVER EVER ATTEMPT. I probs shouldn't have done this. Nobody else I was with did... They thought it was funny to feed the dumb American girl to the crocodiles? Well...ok whatever, I got lucky.
3) Random fact for you: crocodiles can lay up to like a hundred eggs at a time. Kinda scary!
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| What a pretty paradise the breeding crocodiles (90 pairs, 180 crocodiles) live in! |
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| Sunbathing Crocs |
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| Somebody needs braces :) |
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| And that hand could tear your face off. |
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| 4 and 5-year old crocodiles. They'll be slaughtered for meat, shoes and purses soon. :/ Would you climb in that enclosure with them? |
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| Because I did just climb in there with them... Not the safest choice I've ever made.... |
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| So there was a man waving that stick. He is a care-taker. And I doubt he'll live much longer...he likes to play with them. |
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| The farm was located in a beautiful forest area. |
On Sunday, we had caught some klipspringers and moved them to a different farm and gave them some basic treatment. After that, we were done. And Ben and I were just chilling, so he asked me to help him build a new coffee table for his living room. And being the cool guy that he is, this wasn't any ordinary coffee table. Instead of wood, we used old used chopper blades. Naturally. Anyway, it was really cool-looking and I wish I'd had my camera to take a picture because it was awesome and I was quite proud of it. I think he was really happy about it too. We carried it back to his house (oof had to get a serious workout in there) and we put it in his living room and it looked huge. But it was still cool.
While we were putting the finishing touches on that, Ben got a call that a lion had escaped from a reserve and was running loose on the road. Silly lions. So that was our afternoon - helicopter flying to find a renegade lion. Typical. After that, we just chilled for awhile.
At night, the rest of the Osmers family returned from their hunting trip and they brought some hunters from Europe with them. So Sunday night, we had a fancy braai again like the first night, late and outside on the firepit. The food was good and it was nicer this time because I was able to communicate with people and I knew them. So I had a good time. I also made extra certain to help out the cooks and say hi to them and thank them for everything. They were really nice about that. I wish I could have gotten to know them better. Ughhhhhhhh South Africa. Sometimes you make me mad!
Anyway, the hunters had caught a hippo and it was brought back to the farm. We drove down to the meat butchery on the farm to see the hippo. It was huge and gross and smelly. And weird. And very much dead. Lots of dead hippo. I was bored with the dead animal, so while they all took pictures with their trophy and watched it get hauled off the truck, I went and visited the orphaned baby zebras. And cuddled with them and fed them and one of them was nuzzling his little head under my arm for about an hour. It was the sweetest thing ever, like he needed a little TLC. Which I was very happy to provide!
I was sitting under the southern hemisphere stars cuddling an orphaned baby zebra while my host family hauled a hippo carcass off a truck...what a way to spend my last night in South Africa. Then, on the way back to the house before dinner, we had to stop and take a detour because the rhinos were chilling in the road. Refusing to move. So we had to turn around and take the long way back. Oh South Africa. Sometimes you are so uniquely weird and wonderful!
60. Four More Days: Leaving Here. Going There.
Coming Home/Going Home. What is it all about?
I'm ready to go home. But I simultaneously never want to leave. I like this non-reality. I'm afraid to return to reality. But at the same time, I know I need to. I know it's time to. I miss my family and home. And I kinda miss some things about America, mostly that people aren't racist like they are here. Or if they are, they know that they can't be very open about it like they are here. I'm not saying we don't have problems in America. But come here for a while and you'll appreciate home SO MUCH MORE.
One day while I was bored, I made three lists. Lists about going home. First, I made a list of the things I miss about home. THen I made a list of things I'm going to miss about South Africa. Then finally I made a list of things I'm going to try to bring back home.
1) Things I miss:
I'm ready to go home. But I simultaneously never want to leave. I like this non-reality. I'm afraid to return to reality. But at the same time, I know I need to. I know it's time to. I miss my family and home. And I kinda miss some things about America, mostly that people aren't racist like they are here. Or if they are, they know that they can't be very open about it like they are here. I'm not saying we don't have problems in America. But come here for a while and you'll appreciate home SO MUCH MORE.
One day while I was bored, I made three lists. Lists about going home. First, I made a list of the things I miss about home. THen I made a list of things I'm going to miss about South Africa. Then finally I made a list of things I'm going to try to bring back home.
1) Things I miss:
- American TV
- American radio (especially country music)
- English (I feel left out a lot of the times)
- Mexican food (Chipotle, get at me!)
- My parents
- Tiger Lily (my cat)
- Tipsy & Duchess (my dogs)
- friends
- not having to explain myself everywhere I go all the time...some things I do I guess are just so American
- not having to say hello! No I'm not South African, I'm American. I'm from Chicago (if I say Kansas they just not and smile like ok...), I'm studying abroad in South Africa for a few months....etc
- not having to justify why beef jerky is better than biltong
- HOME
- hugs (haven't had one in ages)
- slightly less racist society
- my car
- on that note, driving
- my phone
2) Things I'm going to miss:
- rhinos
- dogs, particularly this one on my lap
- the Wildcat (she's so sweet and cuddly)
- this family I'm staying with
- the friends I made here, especially Thurstan and Dillan.
- being able to order a beer or glass of wine
- rusks (South Africa's version of biscotti, but somehow better)
- tea
- beauty everywhere I look
- all the really nice friendly people I've met here
- the pace of life...it's just slower (people tell me they can tell I'm American from afar by the speed at which I walk!)
- easy airport security
- dividing prices by 10. 1 US Dollar = 10 ZARand...has been kinda nice
- 85 degree winter days
- when 35˚ means it's hot, not cold (still not used to Celsius...)
3) Things I'm going to try to bring back:
- openness of mind and heart
- seeing the beauty everywhere - because honestly there is beauty in everything, and sometimes it's easy to forget that closest to home.
- being excited about lots of things
- being open about talking about things like racial, political, cultural, or religious differences
- boboetie and rusks (not sure about the latter...or the former really, but I'm gonna try)
- better awareness of how to serve well
- new friendships with people at NU
- self-sufficiency (27 days without financial resources...yeah, I didn't think I had it in me! But it is nice when we surprise ourselves by being stronger than we think we are)
- acceptance of living without some things. For some reason, I think getting my purse stolen in the States would have been more stressful.
- journaling
- eagerness to learn from everyone I meet. appreciating differences.
- This little wildcat. I think Lily needs a friend... This cat is way cuter than NU's mascot Willie the wildcat (cough cough). And she'll fit in my carry-on luggage. Ben already said I could have her when I asked. I think he thought I was kidding...
59. "Let him be the captain of his own soul, the master of his own fate." Farewell, Tata?
So everyone thinks Mandela is going to die. It's all they talk about. Literally between every song on the radio they update South Africans on his status. Everyone is clinging to their phones, their radios, their TVs for the word that he has passed.
Rumors go around that he's on life support. That they might pull the plug on him.
People are criticizing his family for keeping him alive. It's harsh. On the radio one morning while waiting for a farmer to show up to let us into his reserve to treat some buffalo, I heard the host say that they should just let Mandela go, that it's not fair to keep him alive at this point. Then his co-host read the poem Invictus, Mandela's favorite poem (in real life, not just according to the movie).
Invictus
~ William Ernest Henley
Then they kept re-reading the last two lines and concluded that it is time to let Mandela be the master of his own fate, the captain of his own soul. It was time to let him go.
On television every night, every commercial break they paused to update the country on his status. And then they would show tributes. The country had basically entered mourning state. It was very strange.
There is a vibe that everyone is on-edge all the time. Everyone is constantly waiting for that notice on their radio, internet or TV that it will change. But will it change anything? I wonder how long South Africa can sustain this suspense and attention. I think it's not possible to sustain it much longer. Will he pass away while the spotlight is still this crazy? Will he hang on a while longer and the die quietly in his sleep one night when the whole world stops looking? It is so strange that everyone is paying him tribute as if he is already dead but he's still alive. He is worthy of it of course, but it is weird to see and feel.
What will it mean for South Africa? In reality, he has not done anything himself in the past several years, no public appearances, etc. So nothing should change. Unless it is the idea of Mandela being around, being alive, being present that keeps peace alive in South Africa. It's intense. He is the greatest man alive and his passing will shake the world. But I think it doesn't have to mean chaos and upheaval and strife.
His legacy is one of peace. Yet his family is fighting over his burial ground location and his money. It disgusts me. And as he still clings to life, slowly the attention is shifting towards family scandals over money and fights. It's so sad that someone who was so dedicated to peace has to leave the world amidst this chaos. Can we not sit by and pray for him, for his loved ones, for South Africa's future? Can we not marvel at and thank him for the wonders he performed for this country and the world? Can we not preserve his legacy of peace and hope? Apparently that is too much to ask.
Read a little bit about his legacy here: http://www.nelsonmandela.org/
The Cape Town Sunday Times' front page headline was "It's time to let him go!" Pretty bold statement.
Mandela is one of my life heroes. It does not matter when he dies, he is one of the greatest people that ever lived. And my hope is that when he dies, the world does not enter chaos and upheaval, but a mourning mingled with joy and hope. Joy at the great things he accomplished. Hope that the world can continue to become a better place and that leaders as good as he will emerge in the future. And I also want either his birthday or death day to be declared a global holiday. Mandela Day or Peace Day or Hope Day or something like that. Something positive and inspirational that will be a tribute to him, a reminder to the tragedies that happen in our world, but a hopeful proof that change is possible if we work for it.
Ok, so that's me being an idealist. Haha!
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| "The Life and Times of Nelson Mandela" |
Rumors go around that he's on life support. That they might pull the plug on him.
People are criticizing his family for keeping him alive. It's harsh. On the radio one morning while waiting for a farmer to show up to let us into his reserve to treat some buffalo, I heard the host say that they should just let Mandela go, that it's not fair to keep him alive at this point. Then his co-host read the poem Invictus, Mandela's favorite poem (in real life, not just according to the movie).
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Then they kept re-reading the last two lines and concluded that it is time to let Mandela be the master of his own fate, the captain of his own soul. It was time to let him go.
On television every night, every commercial break they paused to update the country on his status. And then they would show tributes. The country had basically entered mourning state. It was very strange.
There is a vibe that everyone is on-edge all the time. Everyone is constantly waiting for that notice on their radio, internet or TV that it will change. But will it change anything? I wonder how long South Africa can sustain this suspense and attention. I think it's not possible to sustain it much longer. Will he pass away while the spotlight is still this crazy? Will he hang on a while longer and the die quietly in his sleep one night when the whole world stops looking? It is so strange that everyone is paying him tribute as if he is already dead but he's still alive. He is worthy of it of course, but it is weird to see and feel.
What will it mean for South Africa? In reality, he has not done anything himself in the past several years, no public appearances, etc. So nothing should change. Unless it is the idea of Mandela being around, being alive, being present that keeps peace alive in South Africa. It's intense. He is the greatest man alive and his passing will shake the world. But I think it doesn't have to mean chaos and upheaval and strife.
His legacy is one of peace. Yet his family is fighting over his burial ground location and his money. It disgusts me. And as he still clings to life, slowly the attention is shifting towards family scandals over money and fights. It's so sad that someone who was so dedicated to peace has to leave the world amidst this chaos. Can we not sit by and pray for him, for his loved ones, for South Africa's future? Can we not marvel at and thank him for the wonders he performed for this country and the world? Can we not preserve his legacy of peace and hope? Apparently that is too much to ask.
Read a little bit about his legacy here: http://www.nelsonmandela.org/
The Cape Town Sunday Times' front page headline was "It's time to let him go!" Pretty bold statement.
Mandela is one of my life heroes. It does not matter when he dies, he is one of the greatest people that ever lived. And my hope is that when he dies, the world does not enter chaos and upheaval, but a mourning mingled with joy and hope. Joy at the great things he accomplished. Hope that the world can continue to become a better place and that leaders as good as he will emerge in the future. And I also want either his birthday or death day to be declared a global holiday. Mandela Day or Peace Day or Hope Day or something like that. Something positive and inspirational that will be a tribute to him, a reminder to the tragedies that happen in our world, but a hopeful proof that change is possible if we work for it.
Ok, so that's me being an idealist. Haha!
58. Culture Shocks & Musings.
A series of mini-essays on things I saw in this part of the country that threw me for a loop. Starting easy. Getting harder. (As in all the way to the point where I questioned if apartheid is really over.)
1) Food. They eat very late at night. As in 9:45 or 10pm. They eat meat, meat and more meat. They braais it, inside or outside, but it's meat on the braai that's what's for dinner. I can guarantee that every night.
2) One night - the first night I stayed in the house - I was sitting in the living room watching tv with Mr and Mrs Osmers, and the dogs all started barking and I got a little nervous and Mr Osmers noticed. Then he explained "Oh it's just the rhinos. They come onto the front lawn every night about this time. Stupid rhinos!" Then he got out of his chair to shoo away the rhinos from the front lawn. This activity repeated almost every night. What is normal? I don't know anymore.
3) This place is out in the middle of nowhere. They call it "the bush." Like I live in the country in a very rural part of the States. But I consider this part of the world to be totally isolated. There is nothing but bush and bush and bush and wilderness as far as the eye can see. Kruger isn't far, so there literally is nothing for hundreds of miles in that direction. And in one direction there are mountains about 60 miles away. And every other direction, I guess it's just bush and more bush and game farms. At night I can't see a single light. It's so bizarre. The stars are incredible though. Gonna miss these Southern Hemisphere views of the night sky. I've gotten kinda used to them...
4) People here are OBSESSED with money and prices. They describe everything in terms of how much it costs - in Rand and in US Dollars. It's very strange. They speak in terms of dollars in Afrikaans too I can tell a lot of the time. I'm catching on...haha another month here and I'd be fluent.
5) The hunting and game industry. It takes a very certain type of personality. A type of personality that makes me 99% sure I'd never actually be able to work as a wildlife vet here. At least not in private practice. Ooof. White men with very stodgy ideas about things. Also, it's really weird to me that they're so into animals and conservation but that they hunt and hunt and hunt all day long. Like it's what they do. So confusing to me! I think I'm catching on a little more each day. Hunting brings in all the money to this industry so then farmers can afford to breed and raise animals and then they save species from going extinct...like the sable. So I guess it kinda makes sense. But it's just so counterproductive to me!
They all ask me if I hunt. And if I'm opposed to it. Kinda awkward I suppose. Oh well, that's life in this part of the world.
6) Structure of the farm, employee-employer relationships. Here's where it starts getting sticky. Farm owner: old white man. His wife and children, all lovely blonde Afrikaans-speaking South Africans who only speak with and date other lovely blonde Afrikaans-speaking white South Africans. His farm manager if he has enough money to have one of those, a white man. They all dress in stereotypical safari/hunter gear with the khaki blouses and shorts, the long socks and the little bootie things that cover their boots. They eat biltong and speak Afrikaans all day long. They're very nice and friendly and welcoming. If you're white. But then their employees on the farm are all black South Africans dressed in work clothes in very very bad condition with lots of holes. They are extremely skinny. They speak isiZulu or Tswana or Tshivenda or Sotho to each other but they speak Afrikaans to their bosses. The relationships are extremely strained. The owners/managers bark orders at the farm workers. They treat them pretty poorly. It's really difficult to see. The owners/managers look at me as if I have four heads when I hop in the back of the pick up truck and say hello and introduce myself in Afrikaans to the farm workers. I've picked up enough Afrikaans to be able to say "look out there's a branch!" "it's hot!" "help!" "can you hold this animal's horns." "are you from here?" "do you like working with the animals?" "how long have you worked on this farm?" "where do you live?" ...and as I said, I have three heads and am the crazy liberal American girl who sits with and talks to black farm workers. It's really hard to deal with. And it is what makes me 100% sure I could never work here longterm.
7) Racism. It pervades everything here. Stories are told in terms of the color of skin of the people involved. Good guys are white. Bad guys are black. "The black man does not understand the world." was actually said to me. I laughed and told the person who said it that it wasn't true, that it was racist. All the old white farmers would tell me "Americans think South Africans [meaning of course only white South Africans...] are racists. We're not. Black people are just so....[insert derogatory adjectives of your choice here]..." And I'd say, well see the reason Americans think that some South Africans are racist is because what you just said is racist. And then they'd laugh this big fat belly laugh at me, the crazy American girl who wants to work with wildlife and who talks to black people. This is a male-dominated industry. Ok, that's kind of an understatement. Aside from seeing Mrs Osmers at dinner and while watching TV every night, I did not see a single other female. At all. It was always me and 2-11 guys. It involves a lot of heavy-lifting, but it's an industry very much rooted in its past, and kind of stuck there if you ask me. I do not know if it will last long for this reason.
8) So this whole thing seems kind of like a pretend life. But maybe that was just the way I feel because it's so unusual for me. For these people, it's their every day real life. So why does it always feel so fake? I think it's because these people have created an artificial world for themselves in which they speak a language heavily tied to old racist ideas and laws. I think it's because they refuse to speak other languages to people, even though they know these languages. I think it's because they have maintained the vestiges of apartheid, the methods of it, for all intents and purposes it still exists there. They live miles and miles and miles from other people (aside from their black employees whom they don't consider people who live in shacks hidden deep within the farms). They have very few real interactions with people except for people exactly like themselves. They watch Afrikaans soap operas on TV. They own every single apple device that has ever been created. They try to isolate themselves from diversity, from other cultures, from any ideas that might prove that their racist ideals are wrong. ok, so I kind of vented, but this is all true. It breaks my heart.
10) I went to the BJ Voerster Farm. Still can't get over that. They referred to him as the former president of the country. Not true. The country is the Republic of South Africa, RSA. Founded in 1994. Didn't exist when BJ was president. That was apartheid South Africa. Don't try to make it seem normal. I see what you're trying to do there... Not cool. That farm was also the most racist, not surprisingly.
11) Poaching. Is a weird cultural factor. Plays very seriously into racism. Black people poach. maybe it's because they have no money and their kids are starving and dying so the prospect of killing one animal they see in the field that will give them a million dollars and will save all their kids' lives obviously makes sense. It does to me anyway. So...yeah.
It consumes a lot of the conversation. It's on everyone's mind. There are signs and posters about it everywhere. I think the little dehorned rhinos look cute with their stubby flat horns. :) Believe me, I want poaching to end as much as the next rhino-obsessed conservationist. But I am afraid it's an extremely complicated issue. The last Friday night I was in South Africa, poachers cut the fence at the Osmers' farm and broke in. One of the rhinos on the farm had a bullet wound in it and Bossie wasn't able to remove the bullet without risking killing the rhino, but he cleaned the wound and it already started healing up quite nicely.
12) All the white South Africans here speak English, but they only like speaking Afrikaans. I usually sit there in silence while they all converse in Afrikaans. Every ten minutes or so someone will turn to me and say something in English. Eventually though, I started picking up on what they were saying and would randomly interject just to keep them on their toes about not saying anything nasty about me behind my back. Or I'd ask a question in the middle of their conversation about something they were just talking about. Ha! :) They are all delighted when I speak Afrikaans. So it's a good way to impress and make friends too.
13) Seunde Laan. How I learn Afrikaans...this soap opera called "7th Lane" that's on every single night and is about a bunch of young Afrikaans-speaking people. There are English subtitles though...so I am learning Afrikaans that way. Three months ago, this show celebrated 3000 episodes. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?! Here is a clip form it...
14) Mandela. So the two weeks I was on this internship were the two most critical weeks of Mandela's health ever. Every second they thought he could die. So it kept everyone on their toes. But more about that later.
1) Food. They eat very late at night. As in 9:45 or 10pm. They eat meat, meat and more meat. They braais it, inside or outside, but it's meat on the braai that's what's for dinner. I can guarantee that every night.
2) One night - the first night I stayed in the house - I was sitting in the living room watching tv with Mr and Mrs Osmers, and the dogs all started barking and I got a little nervous and Mr Osmers noticed. Then he explained "Oh it's just the rhinos. They come onto the front lawn every night about this time. Stupid rhinos!" Then he got out of his chair to shoo away the rhinos from the front lawn. This activity repeated almost every night. What is normal? I don't know anymore.
3) This place is out in the middle of nowhere. They call it "the bush." Like I live in the country in a very rural part of the States. But I consider this part of the world to be totally isolated. There is nothing but bush and bush and bush and wilderness as far as the eye can see. Kruger isn't far, so there literally is nothing for hundreds of miles in that direction. And in one direction there are mountains about 60 miles away. And every other direction, I guess it's just bush and more bush and game farms. At night I can't see a single light. It's so bizarre. The stars are incredible though. Gonna miss these Southern Hemisphere views of the night sky. I've gotten kinda used to them...
4) People here are OBSESSED with money and prices. They describe everything in terms of how much it costs - in Rand and in US Dollars. It's very strange. They speak in terms of dollars in Afrikaans too I can tell a lot of the time. I'm catching on...haha another month here and I'd be fluent.
5) The hunting and game industry. It takes a very certain type of personality. A type of personality that makes me 99% sure I'd never actually be able to work as a wildlife vet here. At least not in private practice. Ooof. White men with very stodgy ideas about things. Also, it's really weird to me that they're so into animals and conservation but that they hunt and hunt and hunt all day long. Like it's what they do. So confusing to me! I think I'm catching on a little more each day. Hunting brings in all the money to this industry so then farmers can afford to breed and raise animals and then they save species from going extinct...like the sable. So I guess it kinda makes sense. But it's just so counterproductive to me!
They all ask me if I hunt. And if I'm opposed to it. Kinda awkward I suppose. Oh well, that's life in this part of the world.
6) Structure of the farm, employee-employer relationships. Here's where it starts getting sticky. Farm owner: old white man. His wife and children, all lovely blonde Afrikaans-speaking South Africans who only speak with and date other lovely blonde Afrikaans-speaking white South Africans. His farm manager if he has enough money to have one of those, a white man. They all dress in stereotypical safari/hunter gear with the khaki blouses and shorts, the long socks and the little bootie things that cover their boots. They eat biltong and speak Afrikaans all day long. They're very nice and friendly and welcoming. If you're white. But then their employees on the farm are all black South Africans dressed in work clothes in very very bad condition with lots of holes. They are extremely skinny. They speak isiZulu or Tswana or Tshivenda or Sotho to each other but they speak Afrikaans to their bosses. The relationships are extremely strained. The owners/managers bark orders at the farm workers. They treat them pretty poorly. It's really difficult to see. The owners/managers look at me as if I have four heads when I hop in the back of the pick up truck and say hello and introduce myself in Afrikaans to the farm workers. I've picked up enough Afrikaans to be able to say "look out there's a branch!" "it's hot!" "help!" "can you hold this animal's horns." "are you from here?" "do you like working with the animals?" "how long have you worked on this farm?" "where do you live?" ...and as I said, I have three heads and am the crazy liberal American girl who sits with and talks to black farm workers. It's really hard to deal with. And it is what makes me 100% sure I could never work here longterm.
7) Racism. It pervades everything here. Stories are told in terms of the color of skin of the people involved. Good guys are white. Bad guys are black. "The black man does not understand the world." was actually said to me. I laughed and told the person who said it that it wasn't true, that it was racist. All the old white farmers would tell me "Americans think South Africans [meaning of course only white South Africans...] are racists. We're not. Black people are just so....[insert derogatory adjectives of your choice here]..." And I'd say, well see the reason Americans think that some South Africans are racist is because what you just said is racist. And then they'd laugh this big fat belly laugh at me, the crazy American girl who wants to work with wildlife and who talks to black people. This is a male-dominated industry. Ok, that's kind of an understatement. Aside from seeing Mrs Osmers at dinner and while watching TV every night, I did not see a single other female. At all. It was always me and 2-11 guys. It involves a lot of heavy-lifting, but it's an industry very much rooted in its past, and kind of stuck there if you ask me. I do not know if it will last long for this reason.
8) So this whole thing seems kind of like a pretend life. But maybe that was just the way I feel because it's so unusual for me. For these people, it's their every day real life. So why does it always feel so fake? I think it's because these people have created an artificial world for themselves in which they speak a language heavily tied to old racist ideas and laws. I think it's because they refuse to speak other languages to people, even though they know these languages. I think it's because they have maintained the vestiges of apartheid, the methods of it, for all intents and purposes it still exists there. They live miles and miles and miles from other people (aside from their black employees whom they don't consider people who live in shacks hidden deep within the farms). They have very few real interactions with people except for people exactly like themselves. They watch Afrikaans soap operas on TV. They own every single apple device that has ever been created. They try to isolate themselves from diversity, from other cultures, from any ideas that might prove that their racist ideals are wrong. ok, so I kind of vented, but this is all true. It breaks my heart.
10) I went to the BJ Voerster Farm. Still can't get over that. They referred to him as the former president of the country. Not true. The country is the Republic of South Africa, RSA. Founded in 1994. Didn't exist when BJ was president. That was apartheid South Africa. Don't try to make it seem normal. I see what you're trying to do there... Not cool. That farm was also the most racist, not surprisingly.
11) Poaching. Is a weird cultural factor. Plays very seriously into racism. Black people poach. maybe it's because they have no money and their kids are starving and dying so the prospect of killing one animal they see in the field that will give them a million dollars and will save all their kids' lives obviously makes sense. It does to me anyway. So...yeah.
It consumes a lot of the conversation. It's on everyone's mind. There are signs and posters about it everywhere. I think the little dehorned rhinos look cute with their stubby flat horns. :) Believe me, I want poaching to end as much as the next rhino-obsessed conservationist. But I am afraid it's an extremely complicated issue. The last Friday night I was in South Africa, poachers cut the fence at the Osmers' farm and broke in. One of the rhinos on the farm had a bullet wound in it and Bossie wasn't able to remove the bullet without risking killing the rhino, but he cleaned the wound and it already started healing up quite nicely.
12) All the white South Africans here speak English, but they only like speaking Afrikaans. I usually sit there in silence while they all converse in Afrikaans. Every ten minutes or so someone will turn to me and say something in English. Eventually though, I started picking up on what they were saying and would randomly interject just to keep them on their toes about not saying anything nasty about me behind my back. Or I'd ask a question in the middle of their conversation about something they were just talking about. Ha! :) They are all delighted when I speak Afrikaans. So it's a good way to impress and make friends too.
13) Seunde Laan. How I learn Afrikaans...this soap opera called "7th Lane" that's on every single night and is about a bunch of young Afrikaans-speaking people. There are English subtitles though...so I am learning Afrikaans that way. Three months ago, this show celebrated 3000 episodes. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?! Here is a clip form it...
14) Mandela. So the two weeks I was on this internship were the two most critical weeks of Mandela's health ever. Every second they thought he could die. So it kept everyone on their toes. But more about that later.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
57. No Longer Just a Shadow
Monday 24 June - Friday 28 June
This week I got a lot of chopper time, I got to work on a lot of species, not just rhino and sable. And I also got to do even a lot more doing, not just watching. Bossie put a lot of faith in me. He'd go off in the chopper and dart a bunch of animals leaving me behind on the ground to administer everything to the animals and even wake them up when it was over. I gave them all antibiotics, vitamins and dewormer and other things too.
I worked with a bunch of animals that were on a private farm being taken over by the government, so we had to move these animals to reserves or they would lose their habitats, environment, food sources and die. Or get poached (according to the people I was with).
I worked with klipspringer, eland, raon antelope, sable, rhino, more buffalo. I got to care for two orphaned baby zebras, do a hernia repair, cortisone injections for lameness, necropsy on a sable cow worth $500,000 USD who died of a lung infection :(
One of the dogs here had her puppies. 9 border collie puppies on Thursday night, but one of them wasn't making it so we tried to save him with a warm blanket and a syringe full of warm milk and the mother, but all to no avail. :(
We got called to dart a hippo that was hurt, but then it broke its leg so it had to be shot and killed instead. And then we mounted it on a trailer and hauled it back to the Osmers' farm. It was ENORMOUS. Literally biggest thing ever. I totally would have taken a million pictures with it, with my head in its mouth, etc, but it was pitch black since it was pretty late by the time we got it back.
A dog on the side of the road, left behind by some poachers had rabies and looked awful, mangy, sick, lonely and forgotten. So, sadly, he also had to be killed since he posed a serious threat to humans and animals.
I learned a lot about client-vet-patient interactions, customer/client service, how clients can be quite nasty, how people don't like paying vet bills. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to do. And yep, I still want to be a vet. In fact, I can't wait. I actually spent a lot of evening time working on my personal statement and other aspects of my vet school application.
I learned that birds are dumb and mean and they bite, so their only potential redeeming quality is beauty. Ugly birds therefore are the worst. :P Most notably osriches, Africa's most dangerous animal second-only to hippos. They are aggressive and attack people. And they fight to the death. Had too many near-heart-stopping ostrich encounters for one week. I can tell you the stories when I recover from PTSD. lol. But this is not a joke. I was chased twice by an ostrich with four babies.
I learned that wildlife medicine is about surprises and finding the best balance between nature and intervention. I learned how certain veterinary drugs work and dosing guidelines. I learned about vet med troubleshooting in the bush and what to do if someone collapses from heat stroke (that was Bossie and he asked me to inject him with something...I was like uhhhhh).
I learned how to do a necropsy with an open mind (and preferably closed nose...dead animals' blood stinks!), looking for the unexpected, letting all the organs tell the story, not just one.
I learned that hippos stink, that wound care iodine stains clothes...and fingers, and that if an ostrich is running towards you and his legs are pink or red on the front, you better say your last words. And they might not be something polite.
I learned that baby zebras can't drink straight horse's milk - it has to be diluted, and that they are very affectionate animals.
I learned what the potential causes of sable calf diarrhea are and how to figure out which one is making a calf - or better yet five calves in a herd - sick (epidemiology for the win!).
I learned that some kinds of grass are evil and will attack your feet and ankles.
I learned how to use surgical clamps and put sutures on a wild eland bull's testicles.
And I learned that sometimes, in wildlife medicine, you simply cannot find the animal you're supposed to treat. haha! Yupppp that happened.
And quite frankly, I learned that wildlife vets don't have time to take pictures! Womp womp.
This week I got a lot of chopper time, I got to work on a lot of species, not just rhino and sable. And I also got to do even a lot more doing, not just watching. Bossie put a lot of faith in me. He'd go off in the chopper and dart a bunch of animals leaving me behind on the ground to administer everything to the animals and even wake them up when it was over. I gave them all antibiotics, vitamins and dewormer and other things too.
 |
| Bossie's vet office. Pretty mobile. Plus his dart gun. |
I worked with a bunch of animals that were on a private farm being taken over by the government, so we had to move these animals to reserves or they would lose their habitats, environment, food sources and die. Or get poached (according to the people I was with).
I worked with klipspringer, eland, raon antelope, sable, rhino, more buffalo. I got to care for two orphaned baby zebras, do a hernia repair, cortisone injections for lameness, necropsy on a sable cow worth $500,000 USD who died of a lung infection :(
One of the dogs here had her puppies. 9 border collie puppies on Thursday night, but one of them wasn't making it so we tried to save him with a warm blanket and a syringe full of warm milk and the mother, but all to no avail. :(
We got called to dart a hippo that was hurt, but then it broke its leg so it had to be shot and killed instead. And then we mounted it on a trailer and hauled it back to the Osmers' farm. It was ENORMOUS. Literally biggest thing ever. I totally would have taken a million pictures with it, with my head in its mouth, etc, but it was pitch black since it was pretty late by the time we got it back.
A dog on the side of the road, left behind by some poachers had rabies and looked awful, mangy, sick, lonely and forgotten. So, sadly, he also had to be killed since he posed a serious threat to humans and animals.
I learned a lot about client-vet-patient interactions, customer/client service, how clients can be quite nasty, how people don't like paying vet bills. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to do. And yep, I still want to be a vet. In fact, I can't wait. I actually spent a lot of evening time working on my personal statement and other aspects of my vet school application.
 |
| Rambo keeping me company while I try to work on my personal statement... |
I learned that birds are dumb and mean and they bite, so their only potential redeeming quality is beauty. Ugly birds therefore are the worst. :P Most notably osriches, Africa's most dangerous animal second-only to hippos. They are aggressive and attack people. And they fight to the death. Had too many near-heart-stopping ostrich encounters for one week. I can tell you the stories when I recover from PTSD. lol. But this is not a joke. I was chased twice by an ostrich with four babies.
I learned that wildlife medicine is about surprises and finding the best balance between nature and intervention. I learned how certain veterinary drugs work and dosing guidelines. I learned about vet med troubleshooting in the bush and what to do if someone collapses from heat stroke (that was Bossie and he asked me to inject him with something...I was like uhhhhh).
I learned how to do a necropsy with an open mind (and preferably closed nose...dead animals' blood stinks!), looking for the unexpected, letting all the organs tell the story, not just one.
I learned that hippos stink, that wound care iodine stains clothes...and fingers, and that if an ostrich is running towards you and his legs are pink or red on the front, you better say your last words. And they might not be something polite.
I learned that baby zebras can't drink straight horse's milk - it has to be diluted, and that they are very affectionate animals.
I learned what the potential causes of sable calf diarrhea are and how to figure out which one is making a calf - or better yet five calves in a herd - sick (epidemiology for the win!).
I learned that some kinds of grass are evil and will attack your feet and ankles.
I learned how to use surgical clamps and put sutures on a wild eland bull's testicles.
And I learned that sometimes, in wildlife medicine, you simply cannot find the animal you're supposed to treat. haha! Yupppp that happened.
And quite frankly, I learned that wildlife vets don't have time to take pictures! Womp womp.
56. Living the Dream: A Day in the Life
Saturday 22 June
Very early in the morning, at 5am, I met Ben and we drove to the chopper hanger, just a km or 2 down the really long driveway. He prepped and fueled the chopper while I admired the first glimpse of sunrise.
We then got in the chopper and flew for about 20 minutes straight towards the sunrise to an area of the Timbavati/Kruger where our first job for the day awaited us. (The Timbavati is privately owned by like twenty investors...it borders the Kruger with no fence between the two so animals can roam freely.) He landed and we shook hands with some park rangers and then they spoke for a few minutes in Afrikaans about the heightened poaching incidents of the last few days. When he's not flying a chopper for vet purposes or mass captures, he is hunting down poachers with his chopper. No joke. Coolest person ever!
We got back in the helicopter and began searching for rhinos. When we found about 11 of them, we landed, I got in the back of a pick up truck with a vet tech and a bunch of Park employees for heavy lifting. Then the vet got in the chopper with Ben and the lifted up into the air to go dart some rhinos. They darted two rhinos at a time, then those of us in the truck would follow the chopper to the site where the rhinos had lay down and then we would do our thing. This day's procedures were just microchipping the horns and clipping the ears of each rhino. We had to cover their eyes so they wouldn't freak out.
One of the was not very immobilized by his dart, so he stood up and started running and everyone had to run away, there about 2-3 long minutes of panicked silence, then Ben snuck up behind him, threw his coat over the rhino's eyes and the rhino relaxed, the vet gave him an injection of ketamine and then he sat bag down, yielding to the drug and awaiting his turn to be microchipped and clipped and get his horn drilled for DNA sampling. We microchipped both horns for monitoring purposes. We clipped each rhino's ears in a unique pattern to give them identification markers for helicopter or distance viewing purposes. Or, sadly, if the rhino is found dead killed by poachers, it could be easily visually identified. We also connected little DNA samples from the rhinos by clipping their ears. This would be also used to confirm identity should the rhino be poached or poachers caught with horn with blood on it. We drilled a tiny hole in each horn - front horn and back horn. Someone would hold a sample collection cup under the drill site to collect the little swirls of rhino horn ($110,000/kg) just to have matching samples of the horns. Then we'd inject the microchip into each horn in this hole and then fill it up with glue and a twig to disguise the microchip hole, prevent it from falling out and make the rhino's horn look natural.
Kruger doesn't dehorn, which I think is stupid. They say it's not "natural" but neither is poaching. They say rhinos are born with horns and look dumb without them. But I say what looks better? An alive dehorned rhino or a dead rhino with its horn - and face - brutally hacked off? So since these particular rhinos were Timbavati/Kruger, there was no dehorning allowed (but on other farms, Bossie did dehorn rhinos). Dehorning isn't a very dangerous process to the animal. It's like cutting hair or fingernails. The only risk comes from sedating the animals during the process. The horn regrows completely every 4 years (~1kg/year).
Anyway, it was a busy day we kept going for many hours and I got to help put on surgical clamps and anti-maggot sprays and help with the whole ear clipping process. My hands and clothes were covered in rhino blood, but I really was living my dream so I didn't care too much. Actually, I didn't care at all. I felt like I was actually taking a stand and using my two hands to fight against rhino poaching.
 |
| Sunrise from the chopper |
We then got in the chopper and flew for about 20 minutes straight towards the sunrise to an area of the Timbavati/Kruger where our first job for the day awaited us. (The Timbavati is privately owned by like twenty investors...it borders the Kruger with no fence between the two so animals can roam freely.) He landed and we shook hands with some park rangers and then they spoke for a few minutes in Afrikaans about the heightened poaching incidents of the last few days. When he's not flying a chopper for vet purposes or mass captures, he is hunting down poachers with his chopper. No joke. Coolest person ever!
 |
| Herding rhinos with the helicopter |
One of the was not very immobilized by his dart, so he stood up and started running and everyone had to run away, there about 2-3 long minutes of panicked silence, then Ben snuck up behind him, threw his coat over the rhino's eyes and the rhino relaxed, the vet gave him an injection of ketamine and then he sat bag down, yielding to the drug and awaiting his turn to be microchipped and clipped and get his horn drilled for DNA sampling. We microchipped both horns for monitoring purposes. We clipped each rhino's ears in a unique pattern to give them identification markers for helicopter or distance viewing purposes. Or, sadly, if the rhino is found dead killed by poachers, it could be easily visually identified. We also connected little DNA samples from the rhinos by clipping their ears. This would be also used to confirm identity should the rhino be poached or poachers caught with horn with blood on it. We drilled a tiny hole in each horn - front horn and back horn. Someone would hold a sample collection cup under the drill site to collect the little swirls of rhino horn ($110,000/kg) just to have matching samples of the horns. Then we'd inject the microchip into each horn in this hole and then fill it up with glue and a twig to disguise the microchip hole, prevent it from falling out and make the rhino's horn look natural.
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| Drilling the horns |
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| Clipping the ears for marking |
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| Ear post clipping. I got to help a lot with this part. |
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| Time to wake up, buddy! |
Kruger doesn't dehorn, which I think is stupid. They say it's not "natural" but neither is poaching. They say rhinos are born with horns and look dumb without them. But I say what looks better? An alive dehorned rhino or a dead rhino with its horn - and face - brutally hacked off? So since these particular rhinos were Timbavati/Kruger, there was no dehorning allowed (but on other farms, Bossie did dehorn rhinos). Dehorning isn't a very dangerous process to the animal. It's like cutting hair or fingernails. The only risk comes from sedating the animals during the process. The horn regrows completely every 4 years (~1kg/year).
Anyway, it was a busy day we kept going for many hours and I got to help put on surgical clamps and anti-maggot sprays and help with the whole ear clipping process. My hands and clothes were covered in rhino blood, but I really was living my dream so I didn't care too much. Actually, I didn't care at all. I felt like I was actually taking a stand and using my two hands to fight against rhino poaching.
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| The runaway rhino who didn't want to go to sleep. |
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| Me and my friend, the rhino cow. One of the happiest moments of my life... |
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| Rhinos are heavy. |
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| Olifants River...from the helicopter :) Remember way back when I went on safari and stayed there? |
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| View from the back of the chopper en route to the far away location |
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| Cool mountains from the chopper |
so!  |
| Bossie and Ben in action |
| In the afternoon, Ben and I flew back, picked up another vet then flew for about 40 minutes to a faraway farm that had a wounded buffalo cow caught in a snare, and she and her calf were hiding behind a bush on a hillside. Ben and the vet darted her while I waited on the ground in a pick up truck with 4 different things to give her/do to her to clean the wound when she lay down because the chopper wouldn't be able to land on the hillside. It went really well! I got to clean the wound which went all the way around one of her back legs and was about an inch and a half deep. I put some hydrogen peroxide and some iodine in the wound, rubbed it around in there with my finger, sprayed with anti maggot spray. Gave her injections of vitamins and dewormer and then woke her up. She stood up and walked away barely even limping! Success? I think so! |
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| Cleaning the wound |
After that, we had to catch a sable bull on the mountain which was challenging in terms of driving up the mountain, loading him on (building so many muscles these weeks) and even more challenging in terms of riding down the mountain with a tranquilized sable bull on the bed of the pick-up truck. We put him in the field where he needed to be with cows since he was now considered sexually mature and healthy. Then Ben, Bossie and I flew back to the farm for dinner, my nightly TV session with Judy watching Seun de Laan (Afrikaans soap) and much needed sleep!
What a perfect day!
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