Travels in South Africa
An interactive multimedia gallery

I am a math teacher at Germantown Academy, an independent school located near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Each academic year, faculty members may apply for a Kast Grant for travel and professional development.  In 2006, I received a grant to travel to South Africa, where I made connections for future student trips, taught math to students at a small school outside of Cape Town, and explored Kruger National Park.  What follows are excerpts from my online journal from that trip, along with many pictures and some video and sound files.  Click on the photos to view them at a larger size.  Comments and questions are welcome and may be directed to me by emailing jsolony (at) germantownacademy (dot) org.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:
So Here's the Plan...  *  Safe Arrival  *  The First Few Days  *  Church in Langa
Out and About  *  Chris Hani Independent School  *  Quick Thought  *  A Touch of Class
Nosipho and Mpumi's Gardens  *  Elsies River Orphanage  *  Life in Langa  *  Waterfront Photos
Climbing Table Mountain  *  Umgidi  *  Robben Island  *  Beautiful Days
Penguin Colony at Boulders  *  Signs  *  New Clothes in Elsies River  *  Independence Day
Moving On  *  Home Safe and Sound  *  Three Out Of Five Ain't Bad  *  More Photos From Kruger

 

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2006

So Here's the Plan...

My friend and colleague Erin Sio took a group of students to South Africa last year, along with my friend and former colleague Annabel Smith. I have wanted to visit Africa for as long as I can remember, and talking with them about their trip helped me to decide to make it happen.

I will fly out of JFK this Friday, June 16. I will mostly be staying in Langa, which is a township outside of Cape Town. I will be something of an ambassador to the Chris Hani school located there.

I'll also have other opportunities to volunteer, including working on an organic garden project for an AIDS clinic with a woman named Mama Mpumi. I'll also do some work at an orphanage in nearby Elsies River. And, of course, I'll get to be a tourist sometimes, as well. I'll be seeing the sights in Cape Town, and ending my travels with a safari at Kruger National Park.

SUNDAY, JUNE 18, 2006

Safe Arrival

I have arrived safely. The flights were long - I know I had told people it was just one long flight, JFK to Johannesburg, but it turned out we had a fuel stop in Dakar. That broke it up some. Then it was a two-hour flight from Jo'burg to Cape Town. Patiwe, the woman I am staying with here in Langa, met me at the airport with some of her family.

I rented a car. Turns out people drive on the left side of the road here. And the car is a stick shift -- so the wheel is on the right side of the car, and I'll have to shift gears with my left hand. Fortunately, one of Patiwe's friends drove us home in it last night. I'll practice today.

The internet access here at the house is slow - Comcast won't even let me check my email. I'm hoping to get into Cape Town in the next few days and use an internet cafe there. Right now, we're getting ready for church. Patiwe tells me the service usually lasts two and a half hours. And it's all in Xhosa.

MONDAY, JUNE 19, 2006

The First Few Days

    Inside the Joe Slovo district (photo courtesy Pete Vernon)

I am writing from an internet cafe in Langa. There is so much to write that I really don't know where to begin. This will be a bit slapdash, but at least you'll get an idea of what I've been up to.

I'm staying with Patiwe, who is an absolutely lovely woman, early-30s. She is an independent event manager who helps book acts for music festivals in Cape Town. She lives in a house with her mother (who I am to call "Mom,") and her mother's husband. Also living there are Makonza, her 30-year-old cousin who helped me re-learn to drive, and Wandi, her 16-year-old cousin who loves India.Arie and was very excited about the iPod my sister is lending me for this trip.

About driving on the left hand side of the road: So far, so good. Which is to say, I haven't hit anything yet, and nothing has hit me. Ultimately, that's the goal. I drove to Cape Town yesterday to pick up Pete - he is the son of a colleague of mine at GA. He just finished his sophomore year at William and Mary and he's traveling around South Africa for a month. We met another American here in Langa today, at a school where we are volunteering. His name is Aaron. He's mid 20s, a surfer from California, and was very happy to find out that I had a car.

About Langa: My god. I don't know what to write. It's a black township outside of Cape Town. The only white people who come here tend to be tourists. People are generally friendly but a little confused as to why I'm here. Outside of this town is an area called the Joe Slovo district. This is where the shanties are - this is where Pete and I went this morning, to teach at a school called the Chris Hani school.  More about this later.

Church in Langa

We went to Langa Baptist Church yesterday. It was more exciting than some rock concerts I've been to. The building had high ceilings and few windows. It kind of reminded me of a gym, except it was carpeted and the acoustics were quite good. In fact, they had a full amplification system, with several microphones and huge speakers, and a fantastic gospel band - keyboard, guitar, drums, bass. Everyone was standing, dancing, and singing (loud and well).

My favorite song had these lyrics:

And Africa will be saved,
And Africa will be saved,
The Holy Spirit must come down,
And Africa will be saved

I asked Patiwe if the word "saved" was meant in the born-again Christian sense of the word. "No," she said. "Saved from poverty, saved from hunger. Saved from everything bad." Her version of Christianity says that anyone - and she specifically mentioned Buddhists(!) - can be "saved," in that they can live a life with God.

Patiwe noted that I kept rhythm well in church. I actually felt quite self-conscious, Mr. Tall Skinny White Guy from the USA bopping around in a room full of black South Africans. I took it as a compliment. She told me most white people don't have rhythm.

TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 2006

Out and About

I'll start off with a photo of some of the people I've been hanging out with here:

From left to right, this is Wandi, Aaron, Tyson, and Pete. I think the only person in this group that I didn't write about yet is Tyson. He is a member of the family that Aaron is staying with. He's 17, really funny and smart, and fashion-conscious. If he thinks something is cool, he says that it's "tight." He and Wandi came along for the ride to Cape Town yesterday evening, when we unsuccessfully tried to run a bunch of errands but just ended up driving around a lot.

The above photo is one I took this morning at the Chris Hani school, where I have been volunteering. The school amounts to a series of wooden shacks, sided with corrugated aluminum.

Chris Hani Independent School

Yesterday and today, Pete and I went to the Joe Slovo district to volunteer at the Chris Hani Independent School. The Joe Slovo district is a squatter camp on the outskirts of Langa. It would be what is referred to as a "slum" in the states. Most of the people are unemployed, most of the adults are illiterate. Which is why the Chris Hani School was started - to give the children an opportunity to make better lives for themselves.

There were kids everywhere, playing in the dirt streets. A lot of soccer playing, with much too small soccer balls, and other kids were just rolling old bike tires around. One boy we saw had a clothes hanger tied to a string, and he was amusing himself by running around and flying it like a kite. He barely looked at us as we walked past. The hanger was more interesting.

    The view of Table Mountain from the Chris Hani school, Joe Slovo district

The Chris Hani School is a series of connected, narrow shacks, maybe 12 feet wide, each filled to overflowing with desks and students. We first met Maureen, the principal, who walked us through some of the classrooms. The conversation with her in each one went exactly like this:

Maureen: "Good morning, class."
Students: (leaping to their feet) "GOOD MORNING TEACHER."
Maureen: "How are you today?"
Students: "WE ARE FINE, THANK YOU TEACHER AND HOW ARE YOU TEACHER?"
Maureen: "I am fine also. You may sit."
Students: "THANK YOU TEACHER."

I cannot impress upon you enough how perfect the rhythm of the children was. It was wild.

This morning I taught a math lesson to the grade 4 class. There were 34 students crammed in the room. (A few of the students were absent - normally there are 40.) When I asked some students to come to the front of the class to demonstrate addition, they had to literally climb over their desks to get there. Teaching was an absolute blast. I was showing how 1+4 and 2+3 and 3+2 and 4+1 are all equal to 5, by moving around this group of students. Then I had a different group of students "become" a number line, and showed addition and subtraction that way.

    Some of the grade 4 students I worked with show off their artwork

My lesson was interrupted by a knock on the door. A woman said something to the teacher in Xhosa and ran off. The teacher apologized to me. "The students have to go sing now." She said. "There are people here."

What this meant was that a tourist bus had come from Cape Town to see Langa, and now the children would be lined up to sing some songs in Xhosa and English for them. It was surreal. This is one of the ways this school gets money - by having its students perform for tourists. They seemed to be mostly American and European. The people all took out their cameras and took pictures as the children sang to them. And I just felt... wrong. I haven't wrapped my brain around this yet, so forgive me for not being sure just what to think. These people were in town to see these very poor children, living in slums, perform for them. It was a stop on their bus tour.

Click for video:  WMV   MPEG
Click for full-length audio:  MP3

And - hey - I had a camera, too. Was I really any different? I'll volunteer at this school for a couple days, volunteer at some other places while I'm here, but in between I'll drive to this internet cafe in town, or visit Simon's Town or climb Table Mountain, and when it's all over, I'm getting on a plane and going back to my own apartment outside Philly, which is as big as the whole of Patiwe's house, where no less than five people live. (And they've taken in two more - Pete and me.)

So, yeah. Still wrapping my brain around this one.

After the singing was done, the children went back to their classes, and I decided to do some music with them. I took out a pennywhistle, a harmonica, and spoons (an instrument used in English folk music). One of the kids watched me play the spoons, and when she tried it herself she immediately played better than I. Everyone laughed.

Finally, I taught them Herman the Worm, which is a song I used to do with kids when I worked at camp. So much fun. I love the Xhosa accent.

    Students at the Chris Hani school

    This woman is kind of like the "cafeteria lady" for the school

    More students hanging around outside their classroom.

Quick Thought

I've been reading The Places That Scare You by Pema Chödrön. Last night I read this quote, and I liked it a lot:

"We'd be wise to question why we hold a grudge as if it were going to make us happy and ease our pain. It's rather like eating rat poison and thinking the rat will die."

Not apropos of anything; I just wanted to pass that one on.

THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 2006

A Touch of Class

The above picture shows Pete and Makonza looking very classy indeed at a party held at the home of a public affairs officer of the U.S. Consulate. The reception was being held for two American artists, Dr. Daniel Banks and Adam McKinney.

It isn't worth getting into how Patiwe got us invited in the first place. Patiwe was supposed to take Pete and me, but she had to study for an exam (she's in school to become a realtor) so we asked Makonza to go in her place. He agreed, and the three of us drove to an extremely posh part of Cape Town called Bishopscourt.

The people from the consulate were incredibly friendly, if slightly bemused by our presence. They kept coming up to us, asking, "And how did you come to be here?" We were at least 20 years younger than everyone else and not quite as nicely dressed. I think we livened up the party quite a bit. Makonza was mostly quiet, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. (Pete, on the other hand, turned out to be quite the bon vivant. I think that's the right phrase.)

As for me, I felt strangely comfortable. It was a lark. I was completely myself. We were out of place - they knew it, we knew it - but none of us cared. Back at home later that night, when I admitted that in similar situations in the United States I might feel uncomfortable, Makonza said that the problem comes from when we judge ourselves. "Don't judge yourself, Justin," he said.

Good advice for everyone, yes?

SATURDAY, JUNE 24, 2006

Nosipho and Mpumi's Gardens

A few days ago, Pete and I went to see the Urban-Rural Development and Capacity Building Project, which was started by two women in Langa, Nosipho Sikutshwa and Mpumi Ngoqu. The women have created an extraordinary network of people - mostly older women - who are tending organic gardens in just about every square inch of free space in the township.

    The garden in the yard of Langa High School

This is a community project of grand proportions. There are organic gardens at schools, which students tend as part of science and agriculture classes. There are organic gardens at churches all over the area. And then there are small gardens growing in random patches of land that Nosipho would point out to us as we drove around Langa.

    Nosipho talks with us about organic gardening

The gardens are a way to help some of the struggling families in the area provide food for themselves by growing their own. It is also a part of a push for better nutrition for people in Langa. The women have two concerns in particular - that children are fed well before they go to school ("How can you learn on an empty stomach?" Nosipho asked us) and also that there is better nutrition for AIDS patients at the nearby clinic.

Elsies River Orphanage

This past Thursday morning, before I dropped Pete off at the airport, we went to the Elsies River Orphanage. It was a very happy place. The kids were not shy about having visitors at all! Because school was still in session, only the very young children were around. I'll be going back to visit again later to meet the older kids.

    The whole crew. The gentleman in back is Patiwe's step dad, who came with us.

    Everybody say "Cheeeese!!!"

    Hanging out with the kids (photo courtesy Pete Vernon)

    The orphanage playground

The woman who runs the orphanage is a phenomenally friendly and loving person named Ivy. She had a smile on her face all the time, even as she told us why the children were there: In most cases, the mom is "positive." This is shorthand for "HIV-positive." At least two of the mothers are in the final stage of AIDS.

The good news: None of the children we met that day at the orphanage is "positive." Reason for hope!

Click for video:  WMV  MPEG
Photo and video courtesy Pete Vernon

MONDAY, JUNE 26, 2006

Life in Langa

I realized that I haven't written much about daily life, what it's like for me to stay in one of the many black townships near Cape Town.

First of all, there won't be many photos of Langa. The reason for this is that Langa is not a safe place to carry anything valuable. I don't carry my camera in Langa, I don't wear a watch, I don't carry my wallet. I wear old, non-descript clothes. Basically, if you look like you have nothing to offer a would-be mugger, you decrease your chances of being mugged significantly.

Anything I write about Langa will be through the filter of my brain. I am constantly catching myself, realizing that what I think is going on isn't what's going on at all. It's just my projection. So, with that caveat, I'll do the best I can.

Langa itself is a maze of roads. If there was any city planning done, I see little evidence of it. Its residents are out and about all the time. Dress runs the gamut from modern jeans and T-shirts to very colorful hats and scarves and dresses. Some women carry objects from place to place on their heads. Most of us have seen this on National Geographic, but in person I have to say it is a most impressive balancing act.

The houses are all single-level, each about as big inside as a small Philadelphia row home. Architecturally, they remind me of Levittown. Several families can share one of these homes. There are also flats, which look pretty modern and taken care of. We have running water (which is safe to drink) and a working toilet and a bathtub. At some point, my family decided to get themselves a large TV set and a CD player, which are about the only forms of entertainment in their home other than conversation. The TV set is on every night, and it's tuned to the World Cup, of course. I'm starting to become a fan, if you can believe that.

Now that both Pete and Aaron have left, I'm pretty sure I'm the only white person staying in Langa at this time. I'm not sure how to feel about this. I don't really feel anything about this.

But let me say another thing: Nothing in my life had ever made it more clear to me that life is a crap shoot than seeing the dividing line between the Joe Slovo Squatters Camp and Langa proper. It's just a long stretch of power lines. But if you're born on one side, you have running water, a toilet, several rooms in a house with electricity, a good school for your children. Born on the other, you have shared public hoses, a row of latrines, a one-room shack for your entire family, and Chris Hani School - if your kids care to get there every morning.

Just something to think about.

Waterfront Photos

Lest anyone think that I'm not getting to see some of the beautiful sites of Cape Town...

On Friday, I went to the Waterfront with Patiwe, Wandi, and Aaron. We had a fantastic time. Yes, it's definitely a tourist area, but the sights and sounds and smells were extraordinary. Here are some photos from the afternoon:

    Step dancing and awesome choral singing

    A view of Signal Hill (part of the Table Mountain range)

    Which way to Philadelphia?

    Patiwe, Aaron, and Wandi smile for the camera

            Now that's a cool guitar. (And it sounded good, too!)

Climbing Table Mountain

Yesterday I climbed Table Mountain. Table Mountain is the geographic (and, perhaps, spiritual) center of Cape Town. You can see it from pretty much anywhere - it looms large even in Langa.

The trail was well-marked, but it was a fairly difficult hike. It took me just under two hours to reach the summit. Here is the view down after about an hour and a half of hiking:

Once you get to the top, there's quite a large plateau to explore.

Hiking up, I mostly encountered local Capetonians. But once I got to the top, it seemed that there were people from nearly every continent, enjoying the extraordinary 360-degree views.

This is what center city Cape Town looks like from the top of the mountain:

I took the cable car back down. The coolest thing about that was that the floor inside the car rotated as we descended. The people inside could stand still, and the view literally turned around us!

THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 2006

Umgidi

In Xhosa culture, every man is circumcised at about the age of 18, and then he is sent to live in the bush for a month. Then, he comes back and there's a huge celebration for him at his home. This "back from the bush" coming-of-age celebration is called Umgidi.

So when Patiwe's friend Andile (a.k.a. "Ace") invited me to go to the Umgidi for the son of one of his friends, well - how could I miss something like that?

I don't have pictures. Ace told me that I definitely should not bring my camera. It's a pretty serious occasion, and the family was willing to have me there as a witness, not as a tourist. Ace and I drove to the house, about five minutes away on the other side of Langa. It was a typical one-floor township home, but it was absolutely packed with at least a hundred people - maybe even a hundred fifty. Of course, I was the only white person there. People noticed I was there, but most just smiled and said hi. A few (who had already had too much to drink) kept repeatedly telling me not to be afraid, that I was welcome there, and on and on.

Ace took me to the room where the "new man" (that's what they called him) was staying for the night. He was naked except for a blanket around his waist, and he had a red dye rubbed into his face and hands. Only men who were older than 18 (and had already experienced their own Umgidi) were allowed in the room with him. There were about six or seven men in there, and they were all singing songs in Xhosa and stamping their feet and play-fighting with sticks as part of the ritual. We stayed in there for about an hour. It was hot and loud. I didn't really understand what was going on, but it was exciting to watch anyhow.

We also spent some time with the women. The women were in a different, much larger room, seated in a huge circle of chairs. They were singing and dancing and using their shoes to bang on plastic chairs for percussion. The mother of the house offered me African beer. I said, "No, thanks, I don't drink." So she brought me the beer, in a big bucket which was passed from person to person. I said, "No, thanks. I don't drink." And I passed it on to the next person, who drank from it, and promptly gave it back to me.

At this point, Ace saved me. "You have to pretend," he whispered in my ear. "They're going to just keep giving it back to you until you do this." And he showed me himself, taking the bucket to his lips but not actually opening his mouth. So I did that. Everyone smiled.

SATURDAY, JULY 1, 2006

Robben Island

On Wednesday I took the ferry from the Waterfront to Robben Island, where for almost 400 years political troublemakers, social outcasts, and other "unwanted people" were imprisoned.

The island's most famous prisoner was Nelson Mandela, who spent 18 of his 27 years of incarceration there. After that injustice, one might expect him to want revenge, and to want it violently. Instead, he led South Africa to democracy with a message of tolerance and reconciliation. Incredible!

My visit to Robben Island was mostly unpleasant, because the boat ride there made me quite nauseous, and by the time I started to feel better, it was time to go back to the mainland. This was a bummer, but not nearly as much of a bummer as, say, being buried in the ground up to your neck and being abused by prison guards, which is one of the things guards would do.

So I guess there was another reason this trip was unpleasant. It was very difficult to hear the stories of how the prisoners were treated. At certain points, I wasn't sure if I felt sick because of the ferry ride, or because of what human beings did to other human beings within those walls.

The cells were about 6 feet by 8 feet. Walking down the halls of the prison, I had a feeling of déjà vu. I realized that I was being reminded of the Philadelphia Zoo. Except the cages are bigger at the zoo.

The boy in the above photo was part of the tour group, which was quite large and came from all over the world. In 1999, Robben Island was declared a U.N. World Heritage site. It's not a fun place to go, but I think that's the point.

After we got back to the mainland (I sat on the top deck this time, and felt much better) I spent a little time bumming around the Waterfront. There was an absolutely amazing marimba band playing.

Before I left on this trip, I read in my Lonely Planet guide that South Africa is a "land of contradictions." My friend Erin Sio, who was instrumental in helping me plan this trip, said the same thing. I'm starting to understand.

Beautiful Days

            Flowers at a garden in Stellenbosch (wine country)

As you know, South Africa is on the other side of the equator. That means it's winter here. (It also means, yes, water drains counter-clockwise down the sink.) I have been very lucky so far regarding the weather. Even though this is supposed to be the "rainy season," we've had only two days of rain since I arrived, and otherwise it has been beautiful and sunny.

This trip was made possible by Germantown Academy so that I could make contact with schools and other organizations for when we bring a group of students here next year. A few days ago, I visited the Cheshire Home for the Disabled just a few blocks away from where I am staying in Langa. It's a remarkable operation, currently with 20 residents. We will bring students to volunteer there, as well as at the orphanage and the school and the gardens and other places I've mentioned.

But besides doing this work, I'm also enjoying the weather. This past week, I went to Rondlevei Nature Reserve, a beautiful area southeast of Cape Town.

There were lots of birds there, and some very loud frogs, and at least one African skink:

I also drove south to Muizenberg, which is a popular place for surfers to hang out. (Or is it hang ten? My new surfer friend Aaron introduced me to his surfer friend Jared, and their conversation was peppered with the word "narley," which means either "awesome" or "bummer," depending on context.)

I took the above photo at the beach in Muizenberg. These are Victorian-era changing houses, if you can believe that. From there, I drove south to Boulders (see next section) and then back north to Chapman's Peak Drive, supposedly one of the most beautiful scenic drives in the world.

It's a little hard to see from the photo, but there's a road going along those cliffs, which I managed to navigate with no loss of life.

Penguin Colony at Boulders

Here are some photos from my trip to Boulders, which is part of Table Mountain National Park. Boulders is a protected area of False Bay, located about halfway down the east side of the peninsula from Cape Town to Cape Point.

    "Ahh... another beautiful day at the beach."

    Parent penguin standing guard over the little ones.

    Rock dassie, or hyrax; closest living relative is the African Elephant!

            Yes, by all means, please do.

MONDAY, JULY 3, 2006

Signs

            South Africa's answer to Smokey the Bear

I like to take pictures of interesting signs. For some reason, I've always been fascinated by the way signage differs from country to country. What really confused me here in South Africa were the signs that say "ROBOT AHEAD." These signs are just about everywhere, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out what they meant. With a little deductive reasoning, I finally got it: A "robot" is a traffic light.

Here's a little "Stick Figure Death Theatre" for you. I took this photo at Cape Point, which is the southern tip of the Cape Peninsula:

Makonza and Wandi drove down with me. Makonza had never been to the Cape of Good Hope before. He was so excited that he insisted on calling his friends from one of the public phones so they would know that he was really there!

WEDNESDAY, JULY 5, 2006

New Clothes in Elsies River

I came to South Africa with one more suitcase than I'd normally bring. This suitcase was filled to the brim with clothes to distribute, all of which were donated by one particularly generous GA family.

Half of the clothes will be given to children at the Chris Hani school when it opens back up in a few weeks. I brought the other half of the clothes to the orphanage at Elsies River yesterday. To say that there was much excitement would be an understatement.

When Ivy started to unpack the clothes, the children immediately started to celebrate by getting naked. (OK, I'm exaggerating for comedic effect - but not much.) Then they all stood respectfully in a group next to the bed where Ivy had laid out the clothes, and she went through each outfit one by one, figuring out what would fit best for each child.

As you can see from the photo above, the kids look sharp - and very happy.

The woman on the far right is Ivy. The woman on the far left is Karen Sass, about whom I'll be writing in the next section. The rest of the back row are staff at the orphanage. And everyone else in the photo? Orphaned children - because dad left or mom is positive or the family couldn't take care of them or just didn't care - who are grateful, grateful, grateful that there are people like Ivy in this world.

I'm grateful, too.

Independence Day

Independence Day has been my favorite holiday for a long time. Not because of some kind of jingoistic patriotism, but because of more personal reasons. I like to celebrate personal independence, the idea that we must hold ourselves responsible for our actions and reactions.

But I like America, too. I love our national parks. I love our diversity in people and landscape. Like so many other Americans, I am living proof that you can love your country and still think that the people running it are disastrously off-track.

And, I like fireworks. I feel a little odd admitting that, because fireworks, when you get right down to it, are "bombs bursting in air." Far be it from me to celebrate any kind of bombs. But these are colorful, exciting ones - and killing is not their purpose. I used to love going to New Hope with my high school friends and seeing the fireworks show there every July 4th.

This year, I didn't see any fireworks. After going to the orphanage in Elsies River, I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon yesterday with Karen Sass, who is a one-woman volunteer-organizing machine. She is a contact for several community service opportunities which will be presented to our students, and she set about making sure I saw as many as I possibly could.

We went to an HIV and AIDS hospice center. A mural made by students from George School and Germantown Academy two years ago is still there, surrounding a lovely garden. The patients there, for the most part, receive no visitors. Their families have cut them off. That is the shame surrounding this disease.

Next, we drove to Tygerberg Hospital. We visited the Social Work Unit for Traumatised Children, which serves victims of neglect, emotional abuse, and sexual abuse. We will be able to bring a small group of our students to visit with these children next year.

We also visited an AIDS research facility, where the transmission of the disease from mother to child is being studied. Without treatment, the rate of transmission is approximately 40%, according to the head doctor. With treatment, they've seen the rate go down as low as 5%. The incredibly brutal irony of this is, as the doctor admitted, "we need positive babies." In order to do the research to find out how to stop transmission of HIV from mother to baby, babies who are infected are needed to be studied. So as the transmission rate goes lower, the ability to do research is severely threatened. Does that make your head hurt? It made mine hurt. So did seeing some of the babies. They are a few weeks old. They are hooked up to all sorts of intravenous drips and other machines. I held it together while I was there, and I cried on the way home.

In the afternoon, I went to the District Six Museum in Cape Town. This is a memorial to District Six, which was a booming, thriving area "for coloureds" which was declared whites-only in the 1960s and was subsequently bulldozed. All of its inhabitants were relocated to places outside the city - places like Langa. Or the Joe Slovo camps.

Forgive me. I need some processing time to talk more about this.

Actually, I'll need time to process everything. Looking over what I've written, I find that I very seldom have written about race. The reality is that the issue of race is what has smacked me in my face constantly since I arrived. The word "coloured" is part of the every day language here. It refers to people of mixed-race. There are black townships, and coloured townships, and white suburbs. 15 years after the end of apartheid. I was only here for a little over two weeks. Can I even begin to understand what's going on?

My friend Erin warned me that this would be a "transformative experience." Yes. You could say that.

I ran into some Americans when I was at Tygerberg Hospital. They wished me a happy Independence Day. I'd forgotten about it. I was sure glad they reminded me.

Moving On

    View of the Cape Town Waterfront from Signal Hill.

After 2+ extraordinary weeks in Cape Town, I am leaving to go on a safari at Kruger National Park. I'll be returning to the States next week, and I will write about my adventures then.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 12, 2006

Home Safe and Sound

I got back to Pennsylvania safe and sound. My parents picked me up at JFK (thanks, Mom and Dad). It's good to be driving on the right side of the road again!

The safari was out of this world. Here's one of my favorite photos from my time in Kruger National Park:

Three Out Of Five Ain't Bad

Wildlife fans go to Africa hoping to see what are known as "The Big Five" - lions, leopards, elephants, Cape buffalos, and black rhinos. I had incredible luck my first day at Kruger, and saw five out of five.

OK, that's not exactly true. I did see four out of five. I can't count the black rhino in good conscience, because it was nothing but a speck way out in the distance. My guide assured me that I was looking at a black rhino, but it could have been anything as far as my eyes could tell.

And then there was the leopard. I did see a leopard, but not a single one of the pictures came out. It was camouflaged so well that even though I could see it with my eyes, I couldn't "see" it with my camera - not even with manual focus. It was bizarre. I saw the leopard, saw its spots, and then looked in the viewfinder of my camera and it disappeared.

But I did get pictures of three out of five:

More Photos From Kruger

Here are some more pictures I took at Kruger. It really is an extraordinary park - it's the size of Wales, if you can believe that.

Overall, I have to say that my trip to South Africa was possibly the most incredible experience I've ever had. Experiencing the culture of people still reeling from the scourge of apartheid was unforgettable. I am already looking forward to traveling there again.

Justin Solonynka