The road trip

With my volunteer experience still a lingering memory, I embarked on a journey alongside my dearest friend Miss M (joined later by Mr T) through Namibia and Botswana. I’ve only just managed the time to sit and write a daily account of our adventure, which spanned a period of 9 days. Enjoy!

Day 0
The South African Home Affairs division had done a spectacular job of making my life hell, in what had to date seemed like a futile attempt to get a visa extension stamped into my passport. Their antics meant that instead of making my way directly from Cape Town to Jo’burg, I had to make a detour to Richards Bay to get the wretched sticker pasted into my passport. After a 2-hour flight to Durban at a rather unfriendly hour, I drove 3 hours to this now-familiar office in Richards Bay to collect my visa extension, an event, which took a whopping 5 minutes of my day. Very unimpressed and mildly irritated, I drove back to Durban and boarded a bus for a 9-hour ride to Jo’burg. We finally pulled into the bus station in Jo’burg at some obscure time of the next day. Needless to say, I was tired and slightly cranky, though the excitement wrought by my imminent adventure overshadowed this sour feeling soon enough

Day 1
Miss M picked me up from the bus station and we headed to her house where we finalised our packing for the trip and made our way to pick up our rented car and run other last-minute errands. By midday, we were on our way. The plan was to drive to Namibia via Botswana then back to Jo’burg via Botswana. The route we planned meant our journey would be somewhat circular such that we’d get to see a range of places in both countries. Our first quest was to get to Lobatse from Jo’burg to cross the border into Botswana. It was a solid and uneventful 3-hour drive, with Miss M at the wheels. Armed with good music, the passage of time was hardly noticeable – John Legend, Lauryn Hill, Dwele, Maxwell, Coldplay, Bebe and Cece Winans; just to mention a few, were all we needed to sing along to and enjoy our time on the road. We made it to the border in good time, went through immigration and customs in record time and were soon on our way to our next stop – Kang, in Botswana. I took over driving and we made our way through the Kalahari Desert, crossing paths with many a donkey, cow, goat and sheep. We noted how strange it was to be driving through this “Desert” which though sandy, was covered in grass with lots of animals grazing. That said, there were no visible water bodies and the rivers that we crossed had all dried up, which I guess earns it the right to be called a Desert. About an hour into our drive, I managed to exceed the speed limit only to be stopped by the Botswana police. Luckily for us, they were feeling charitable and simply told us off…followed swiftly by a request for our contact details so they could “keep in touch”. We humoured them (clearly these guys had no shame) and were soon on our way. Several hours later, we arrived in Kang, retreating from a brilliant sunset. We found ourselves a comfortable guest-house and retired for the night, very pleased with the progress made on our first day

Day 2
Was an early start as we were keen to make it to Swakopmund via Windhoek (pronounced: vindhook) in Namibia before sunset. After a large breakfast, we set out for Mamuno where we were to cross the border into Namibia. Our journey went smoothly save the odd towering truck that we had to overtake to make our ambitious target. We made it to the border in record time thanks to a lot of over speeding (no lessons learnt from the previous day I’m afraid). We crossed the border, immediately noticing that Namibians were a lot friendlier and their country more developed and slightly more picturesque than Botswana. We arrived in Windhoek, Namibia’s capital, that afternoon fairly tired. Windhoek is a lovely city, which had a lot of Capetonian features to it. Features like its looming mountainous perimeter, its hilly landscape, its cultural diversity and its high level of development – large shopping malls, perfect roads, fancy cars, amongst other things, were commonplace. Have to say that it struck another cord with me, one that isn’t often struck. I couldn’t quite place what it was but somehow Windhoek reminded me of Monrovia; perhaps it was the soul of the city that spoke to me; I couldn’t help but think that if Liberia hadn’t been plagued by war for all those many years, Monrovia may well look something like Windhoek today, or at least have its vibe. Miss M and I hit the local Nandos (many people don’t know this but Nandos is a South African creation and the company has many outlets throughout southern Africa) for some much needed chicken and hit the highway heading to Swakopmund. We got our first speeding fine about 30 minutes into the drive. Unfortunately the Namibian police, though equally “friendly”, did not do verbal admonitions, we had to pay the fine. Undeterred, we hit the road, paying close attention to the speed limits this time and journeyed on. We drove through the Namib Desert, which was a lot sandier with hardly any vegetation. Our journey took longer than envisaged owing to road works and a rather tragic-looking accident that took place a few hours earlier. We finally arrived in Swakopmund around 8.30pm, thoroughly exhausted. We retired for the evening, glad that we’d arrived safely and postponed any planning for our time there till the next day

Day 3
We had a full day in Swakopmund so we’d decided to sleep in and made it out for breakfast just as the kitchen at the guesthouse was about to close for the morning. We were informed at breakfast that there was something leaking from our car (which was parked across the way at the sister guest-house of the one we were residing in). Turns out our petrol tank had a puncture. Naturally, we panicked; not only did we not know what we were to do about our predicament, it was a national holiday in Namibia that day. The receptionist advised us to go to a nearby petrol station to seek help. We were in luck as the manager of the station was a rather amiable chap who showed us where we could take the car to get the petrol tank fixed. Fairly naïve in these sorts of matters, we nodded at the mechanic’s proposed solution to our problem but were highly suspicious when he told us what he was going charge us for his efforts. After some bargaining we came to what we felt was a reasonable price. We were to find out at a later stage that we were completely ripped off but at the time we were simply relieved that our seemingly insurmountable problem had been alleviated. We planned the rest of our day – some sightseeing, quad-bike riding that afternoon and dinner at a fantastic restaurant. Swakopmund is a fairly small city but is a hot tourist destination in Namibia, with its lovely sand dunes, restaurants and proximity to the Atlantic Ocean; it has everything a decent holiday has to offer. The town is filled with guesthouses and hotels, locally owned shops and pubs, restaurants and a few shopping malls. Its criss-crossed road layout made navigation easy and we drove round and took in all the sights. We arrived back at our guesthouse just in time for us to be picked up for quad-bike riding and rather unfortunately; I locked the car keys in the boot of the car…yikes! We decided it was best to not ruin the day by cancelling our bike ride and to deal with our new predicament upon our return. Neither Miss M nor I had ever ridden a quad-bike before so it was quite the adventure for us. Once we were comfortable controlling our automatic-geared bikes, we hit the dunes led by a very patient guide. We had a lot of fun speeding along and braving some very high dunes with spectacular views of the landscape and ocean. It was an hour of our time well spent. We got back to our guesthouse for some brainstorming with the receptionist on how to solve our problem, which led us back to our friendly petrol station manager again. He watched us approach him with some foreboding and asked: “what have you done now?” We laughed and told him our “little” problem. Armed with a coat hanger-turned-wire and a screwdriver, he accompanied us back to take a look at the car. The plan was to slip the hanger between the car door and its frame so that he could lift the lever that controlled the boot and hence get it open. After an hour and a half of torturous fiddling, we got the boot open. We were amazed at his patience and resilience and thanked him profusely for his kind efforts. Miss M and I were tired from the day’s challenges and activities and decided to dress up and treat ourselves to a lovely meal. We made our way to the amazing “Rafters” restaurant which is built on stilts firmly plunged into the Atlantic. We enjoyed a glass of wine and watched a lovely sunset; ate the best grilled fish (called Steenbras) I’ve had in a while, our day almost behind us

Day 4
Another early start as we had to head back to Windhoek to pick Mr T up from the airport that afternoon. We were excited that he was going to be joining us, if for nothing, at least to share the driving responsibility and to add some testosterone input into our journey, something we felt was needed especially after our experiences the previous day. Before we left Swakopmund, we went on a boat trip to some nearby sand islands, which was home to a large number of seals and a varied species of birds. While the weather was not at its best, the animals were fascinating to watch. We also sighted some friendly dolphins near our boat, an added bonus! We left Swakop just after lunch and sped all the way to Windhoek. Despite our conscious effort to avoid being late in the getting to the airport, we got there an hour and a half or so after his flight landed. Then we made him drive us to the accommodation for the night…poor guy! Dinner was at a lovely Angolan restaurant where we enjoyed another excellent meal of grilled fish and some more wine. Despite our best intentions of staying out and having a good time, our bodies betrayed us; the beds at the guesthouse beckoned strongly by the time we were done with the meal and we succumbed!

Day 5
Windhoek is fiercely hot this time of the year and we fully appreciated that when we woke up. The plan was to travel to the north of Namibia to somewhere near the Caprivi Strip and cross over to Botswana to the Okavango Delta region. It would involve a lot of driving so we had a large breakfast, organised ourselves and hit the road. We arrived in Outjo, roughly half of the way to the Caprivi Strip in the afternoon and decided to spend the rest of our day there and do some sightseeing. We stayed at a lovely lodge called Etotongwe, which was near the Etosha National Park. We checked in and went for a drive through the park where we sighted some lions, giraffe, zebra, gemsbok (cousin to the impala), impala, various species of birds and the saltpans. It was a very relaxing drive and a nice way to end our day. We retired to the lodge thereafter for some kudu (another cousin to the impala) dinner – very, very tasty

Day 6
A relatively late rise followed by a large breakfast and we were on our way to the Caprivi Strip. So far our driving experience had included some close calls: I’d veered off the highway mid-conversation with Miss M then swerved quickly back onto the road on day 1 (incredibly scary); Miss M came close to whacking another car in the back when it stopped suddenly in the middle of the highway en route to Swakopmund; presumably due to a technical fault – we were pretty shaken. On this day however, we were engaged in a heated debate about something or the other such that Miss M’s attention was not a 100% on the road; she ran over a little squirrel scurrying across. We felt so guilty and made a promise to pay better attention and look out for the wildlife, a promise that we kept till the end of the trip. We made a stop at a town called Rundu to see a meteorite, christened Hoba, which had landed there an estimated 80,000 years ago. We were a bit disappointed at the sight though – it was a smallish sized piece of iron that wasn’t quite as interesting or awesome as we’d envisaged. To date we’d also not booked accommodation in advance and just found places to stay as we went along. This tactic was put to the test when we arrived in the Caprivi area. There were hardly any places that were affordable and the first place we saw that we could afford was nothing short of disastrous. The sun was starting to set and things were starting to look tricky. We braced ourselves and decided to check out the only other place that we could afford – a campsite called Ngepi that was located right on the banks of the Kavango River. The set up was very similar to that of Jungle Junction on the Zambezi in Zambia. We decided to have a look around and upon viewing one of the tree houses; we noticed mice frolicking about on the ceiling – yikes. All the huts/houses were made out of a combination of concrete and bamboo material; the bathrooms were outdoors and the doors were hardly secure. The staff was very friendly and it was very atmospheric (the owner of the place had quite the sense of humour as evidenced by the many witty utterances plastered on the walls of the reception area) so we decided to stay there. After staying in relatively plush guesthouses and lodges, it was time to rough it a bit. Miss M was not impressed and after some convincing, acquiesced. We ended up spending the evening drinking and chatting with the guys who worked in the camp, an interesting lot – a mixture of Namibians and Angolans (we were in close proximity to the Angolan border) who were unanimous in their view that Angola was a death trap and that anyone who ventured out there wanted to die. Period. They humoured us with their anecdotes, which flowed freely as the night wore on and the alcohol consumption loosened their tongues. It was a fun night, we retired just before midnight, laughing all the way to our hut and slept right through the night oblivious to the threat of being attacked by hippos, crocs or large snakes (we found out the next morning that one of the bathrooms was now home to large python)

Day 7
We survived the night unscathed; even the mosquitoes had nothing on us! Of course we stopped gloating when we heard the python story and realised just how lucky we’d actually been! We went for a lovely Makoro (handmade canoe) ride along the river, which incidentally was infested with crocs and hippos. It as a peaceful ride though and the river was beautifully littered with water lilies, the sun shone bright and the azure sky was perfectly reflected on the calm water. Our guide was excellent, providing many a history and geography lesson as we were paddled along. Regrettably, it was time to leave by the time we got back from the trip. We’d enjoyed our time in Namibia and especially at Ngepi. Our next stop was Maun, located on the southern part of the Okavango Delta in Botswana. Our journey there was calm and uneventful but once we arrived, we struggled to find a decent place to stay. The rather unfriendly attitude of the people in the town was evident from the moment we set foot there, which helped us, none. After an hour and a half of driving around and dealing with some incompetence, we settled for the night at the Maun Lodge in a nice chalet. We were exasperated from the afternoon’s goings on and dug into a huge buffet dinner. Mr T was also not feeling well – he was under attack by something akin to the flu, so we decided to call it an early night

Day 8
We awoke the next morning mildly unenthused at the prospect of dealing with the unfriendly community of Maun. Breakfast at a café opposite the airport offered no improvements. Our waitress’ disposition could best be described as nonchalant. Our day could not go to waste though so we went in search of activities to fill it. We settled on lunch at a nice restaurant and a boat cruise at dusk. Lunch exceeded our expectations. The Tamalekha Lodge has a brilliant restaurant and the service we received was akin to what we’d encountered in Namibia – there just might be hope for Botswana after all. The restaurant overlooked the Kavango River offering a splendid view as we dug into various culinary delights. Fully rejuvenated, we made our way to the venue for the boat cruise. We set sail from a backpackers lodge in a small boat made of tin; just the three of us and a guide, who said almost nothing the whole time we rode down the delta. We spotted the odd giraffe and zebra and nothing else. We’d expected an experience akin to what we’d had with Ngepi on the Makoro ride, evidently not! The river was beautiful and the peace and quiet was pleasant but it could have been so much more interesting if our guide was a bit more engaging. We decided to give Maun a final shot by having drinks at a restaurant en route to our lodge. Another feisty waitress presented herself, this time speaking to us in a mixture of Tswana and English even though it was pretty obvious that we did not speak the former language. Miss M gave up her cool at this stage and confronted the waitress who responded by saying, rather sheepishly, that we should learn Tswana. We thought it apt to point out the flaws of this young lady’s way of thinking; she finally agreed that she was wrong and that as customers we deserved good service in a language that we understood. A few drinks and laughs later, we made our way home for an early retirement. The plan was to wake up very early the next morning to drive a good 1000 kms back to Jo’burg

Day 9
We were up slightly later than we planned and hit the road heading to Jo’burg via Kang. We skipped a meal that morning and drove into Kang early that afternoon justifiably famished! We ordered our food – goat meat stew and rice all around; the best I’ve had in a while, I have to say. Very satisfied with our food [and service], we called for the bill and offered to pay by credit card, something we’d done regularly throughout the trip. We were then informed that the credit card machine wasn’t working as the electricity was out for the day. Right! We had enough cash to barely cover the cost of our meal AND we had only a 100 kms of petrol left in the tank. A troll of the town proved futile in our search for an ATM that worked. A panicked glance at the map and queries from a nearby office tagged “Tourist information centre” revealed that the closest town with petrol and/or a functional ATM was at least 150 kms away; schuks! the South Africans would say! When mine and Miss M’s genius failed, Mr T stepped in and suggested that we ask the restaurant to trust us, give us the little cash we have back to buy some petrol to at least get to the next town with both amenities and we’d transfer the money to cover our meal into their bank account once we were back in SA. Thankfully, our benefactor, the manager of the fine establishment in question, was a Shona-speaking Zimbabwean like Mr T. Quick, unintelligible words were spoken between them; a smile, a handshake and an exchange of relevant details later, we were in our ride, with enough petrol to get us well on our way. We only noticed then, how hot it was in Kang; we were drenched! We drove to the border with one stop along only for more petrol. We left Botswana just before dusk vowing vehemently to make it our last visit, given the string of bad luck and lacking hospitality! We finally drove into Jo’burg close to 11pm that night, exhausted, our heads filled with giddy details of the last few days

Nearly 5000 kms later, Miss M, Mr T and I viewed our experience as a lot of fun, everything a decent road trip should be

Some of my last days in SA were spent with Miss M’s family in the Eastern Cape, located close to Cape Town. That involved nearly a whole day of driving, attending a wedding and frolicking on the beach, amongst other things. My final days were spent in the Drakensberg (the Alps of South Africa, I’m told) area with Miss M and a few other friends, just enjoying the fresh breeze and scenic presence of the mountains. My flight back to London was somewhat surreal, it felt like somehow my trip was not over, could not be over…it took the freezing cold of the airport in Heathrow to jar me from my stupor

ps. I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday. I still haven't gotten round to trolling through the thousands of photos i've taken in recent months to sort them out and upload a few for your viewing pleasure. I will get round to it at some point and let you know once they are uploaded

Volunteering - the final verdict

Alas folks, my volunteering experience is over. I still remember the moment I decided I come volunteering in Africa. I’d gone through several miserable months [in fact years] of working and knew I wanted a break to go traveling, a desire my parents vetoed, completely in awe of this unfounded wanderlust and genuinely concerned that it would be unsafe for me to do it alone. Ever the respectful daughter, I went away and tried to think of a “safer” option that would allay their fears. In said moment, I recalled a conversation I’d had with one of my favourite people one summer’s day in a friendly Nando’s restaurant in London many moons before, where we’d had a detailed, thought-provoking chat about our longer-term life goals. It was truly one of those light-bulb-lighting-in-my-head decisions - automatic, firm, pleasing to my mind and heart AND incidentally to the family. Deciding where to go and who to volunteer with took some research but were fairly straightforward decisions. The enormity and finality of it all didn’t hit me till the day I handed in my notice at work, when my boss expressed dismay and surprise at my decision. But it was short-lived. Doubt and insecurity didn’t rear their ugly heads till about the week prior to my departure, when all of a sudden, I could think of a basketful of reasons why this was an absurd, impulsive, childish pursuit of God-knows-what. I was assured that it was just last moment jitters…it didn’t feel that way, especially not when I had to say my goodbyes or when I was all checked in and watched tears gather in my mother’s eyes…all that feels like such a long time ago…

Nearly 7 months later, I can say, in a rather clichéd way, that this is one of the best things I’ve done with my life. The memories I’ve gathered and documented here will be with me forever and for my friends, brace yourselves, my stories are bound to bore you in years to come :D. Some said it would be great, I underestimated how great; some said they knew people who didn’t like their experiences, how could they not?

I’ve received several emails, comments on facebook and on some of my posts here, applauding my efforts. I’m grateful for all these and if there was ever a time I doubted myself, those encouragements obliterated that feeling. I’ve met so many wonderful people in all the countries I’ve visited who were supportive and encouraged what I was doing, which more than compensated for the few who viewed what I was doing with some scorn, prejudice or somehow thought me unqualified for the role

I’m especially grateful to my best friends and family without whose support, I probably would have buckled somewhere along the way. From the thought-provoking interactions that led to the decision to embark on this journey, to the encouragement that it was the right thing to do and the right time to do it, to the suggestions of what to name the blog, what to take on the journey, travel tid-bits, kind words, those who offered me a place to sleep, those who faithfully read and commented on the blog; words really cannot express my gratitude. I’m also thankful for my faithful battalion of blog followers; hope you’ve enjoyed reading my stories and managed to live vicariously through me! :D

Midway through my journey, I started receiving emails asking questions regarding what I’d enjoyed so far, what hadn’t worked so well, the best country I’d visited, best volunteer experience, etc. Thought I’d wait till the end of the volunteer experience to express a fair opinion on these questions. Would start with this caveat though: each experience was unique and rewarding in its own way and if I had to do the trip all over again, would definitely not exclude any of them. So, on that note here goes

Zanzibar
You’ve seen the pictures and I’m sure cannot deny that Zanzibar is beautiful by any measure! The white sandy beaches, perfect sunrises and sunsets, [usually] friendly dolphins, great snorkeling and scuba diving opportunities, just to name a few. It has to get 5 stars for aesthetics…note that this vote in my mind is marginal to Mozambique and Cape Town. The volunteering experience, while not the most challenging, was perfect for the start of the trip. It had the right level of intensity and challenge and taught me a few valuable lessons that perhaps helped enrich my other experiences

Kenya
Hands down, should receive 5 stars for the most challenging volunteer experience. I was forced to step out of my comfort zone, focus on the job at hand and more importantly, think about the best way to apply myself. Also have to say that I admire the fact that Kenyans are reaching out to their own and it was great to note that Kenyans run all the NGOs that Fadhili works with. Kenya, like many an African country, is plagued with many problems and it’s refreshing to see that some can rise above the mayhem and show love and care for others. These NGOs may not be perfectly run but their efforts are definitely a step in the right direction

Mozambique
Receives 5 stars as a holiday destination. I’m talking about the total package here: beautiful scenery, a host of activities to indulge in: horseback riding, snorkeling, scuba diving, surfing, island hopping, etc; delightful cuisine and prices that offer good value for money. Getting there by plane is expensive but for me, it was worth every penny. If you ever had to travel there, would highly recommend flying to Jo’burg and driving or busing it to Moz. I admit that my volunteer experience there was ever so slightly soured by some of my sentiment toward the management style but it was still a good experience. I think the project has a potential for expansion and could definitely be improved on a few grounds – reaching out to the medical community, more widespread HIV education, liaising with the schools for reading and art clubs, etc

Zambia
I really enjoyed my Zambia experience because it exposed me to a very wide range of things and showed me what a well-run project can achieve. I’ll give it 5 stars for breadth and impact on the community. I was always on my toes in my time there: be it teaching, building, working with the old folk, farming, etc. While I didn’t get involved in all aspects of the project, I know that the other volunteers who did get to work on the parts that I missed, had a lot of positive things to say about their experiences

St Lucia, South Africa
I shall give a 5 star rating for its HIV education efforts. It had the most structured effort and the impact of AI’s efforts here were the most far-reaching. Overall, the project was also well run and offered an abundance of good experience to all the volunteers. It was also the first project that exposed me to working with very young children, an experience I didn’t expect to find quite as enjoyable as I did

Cape Town, South Africa
I considered CT my best city experience in the whole trip. It had the amazing combination of perfect scenery and modern convenience. I’d recommend it as a stop for all you city lovers out there. While I didn’t experience any of the more negative aspects of what city life tends to offer, I’ve been told that CT can be unfriendly. Though for the more savvy amongst you, this should almost not be a problem for you. If I managed to survive unscathed, I’m sure many others can. The volunteer experience on the other hand was not as challenging though I have to give a 5 star rating to the young ones I worked with here. They were the most fun and interactive: from their fervent hugs and kisses each morning when I walked through the school gates, to their inquisitive and intelligent questions and their love for all things fun! I even learnt a thing or two from them

For the other countries I visited: Uganda gave me the opportunity to do something daring and adventurous; if anyone had told me 8 months ago that I’d try bungee jumping at any stage in my life, I would’ve laughed them in the face. Though I will not be paying anyone money to terrify myself that much again, I’m glad I tried it. Swaziland was very picturesque and exposed me to some beautiful aspects of African culture. If anyone finds themselves in SA, would definitely recommend making a stop there, if even for a couple of days, just to check it out

The trip has no doubt taught me a lot of things and to list them all here would be near impossible. But I just want to shed some light on a few of the personal and other “revelations”
o I love children and being around them. I think they represent everything that is real and beautiful in this life: innocence, the ability to give unrequited, unconditional love, unbridled trust, fearlessness [admittedly, likely backed by naiveté], being non-judgmental, the ability to forgive AND forget, youthful exuberance, the ability to experience joy in its purest form, the ability to dream and remain undeterred in the belief that they can come true, etc. In them I’ve seen ghosts of myself; shadows and memories of who I once was, now dimmed by the lull of adulthood. I’ve relished my time with them and while I have no teaching ambitions, have thoroughly enjoyed the teaching experience
o My experiences exposed me to so many issues on our dear continent that I was hitherto ignorant about. I have managed to garner a full appreciation of some of these issues and ways in which we can help. While I’ve worked hard in the last few months, there is still so much more to be done. I will certainly be attempting to brainwash my African friends [at least] to chip in their two cents of help. More than ever, my belief that the solutions to some of the problems in Africa will only emerge if we start to effect changes at a micro level, has been confirmed!
o Wanderlust is a great thing; how dull, ignorant and unimaginative life is if we don’t travel and see; experience the way of life of other people; get to appreciate what a beautiful world we live in. I have become its humble servant and will definitely be doing more traveling in the years to come, contingent on good finances and a healthy, long life of course

I’m off to Namibia and Botswana now, so you haven’t heard the last from me. I will be in touch as soon as I can with news of my experiences traveling around these countries. Can’t believe that in approximately two weeks, I will be back in England again!

Final words on CT

Much like my time in St Lucia, I don’t know how the last four weeks went by so quickly. I know musing about the passage of time has become a recurring theme in my posts but man can you blame me? Two and a half weeks or so left till I’m in cold, freezing London; a thought which only accentuates my paranoia with the sand-through-the-hour-glass-like flow of time. Anyway, I’m still savouring the experience and making the most of what’s left of my time on the road

With Christmas drawing closer, a lot of my work has been accordingly themed and I’m reminded of how much fun this time of the year can be for the younger ones. The kids at the crèche had their end of year ceremony, which involved a performance of sorts and a graduation ceremony. We dressed them as all sorts of animals, which involved some face painting (man than was a ball!) and mask creation (I tell you, my creative skills, or a lack thereof, have been seriously tested in the last week). The performance itself was splendid; the parents, the teachers and I were full of chuckles and cheers as we watched these little people bring the house down! That was at the end of last week. We’ve spent most of this week decorating Christmas trees and talking about what the holidays mean to us. We’ve been singing carols and really swinging with the holiday mood…it almost feels like Christmas is next week :D. Anyway, seeing as school ends next week, the Christmas obsession at this stage is perfectly understandable (or maybe I’m just in denial of how close Christmas really is)

I finally got to see the summit of table mountain and boy was it an experience! The mountain is well over a thousand feet tall and the sight from its lofty heights is beyond words; CT in all of its splendour, visible from all angles. Few sights make me say “wow” and this was definitely one of them. I hiked across the mountaintop to catch the view and while there are only so many photos one could take, I went all out!

Last Saturday, a couple of the other volunteers and I got on a tour bus to see the rest of the city. We visited the city centre and drove by some museums (which I’ve earmarked to visit this weekend) and other important landmarks. The highlight of the tour for me was when we drove through Camps Bay, which is a gorgeous strip of beach on the other side of table mountain. It’s such a beautiful place though the vibe in that area is very Miami-like – lots of bikini-clad bodies on the beach and walking the streets, loud-music-driven cars, bars and restaurants suitable for a wide spectrum of people, etc. While the vibe was not to my liking, the scenery and food on offer more than compensated for that. The mountains nearby were covered in expensive, luxury homes supposedly owned by the rich and famous in South Africa. For the yet-to-be-famous, a trip to CT is incomplete without a trip to Camps Bay

Sunday was a more relaxed day. Slept in [read: woke up at lunchtime] and said goodbyes to a big group of fellow volunteers who were done with volunteering and journeying on home or continuing with their travels. As the house emptied, my imminent departure dawned heavily on me. Rather than depress myself with morbid thoughts, I got on the train and met up with another volunteer to check out a street concert that was being held ahead of the switching on of Christmas lights throughout the city later that night. It turned out to be rather anti-climatic – the streets began to crowd up very quickly soon after we arrived, with the bulk of the population being of the chav breed and a few of them looked like they enjoyed causing trouble. Needless to say, we were out of there way before the sun considered setting

The plan this Friday is to go see the final draw for the team groupings in the FIFA world cup. There is a concert being held in commemoration of it and have to confess that I’m more interested in that than the actual draw. I’ll be seeing a couple of museums in town on Saturday, then going for an open air concert in Kirstenbosch Gardens on Sunday. In between those activities, I must make time for packing as I head over to Jo’burg on Monday to meet up with Miss M for the holiday phase of the trip. The plan is to visit Namibia and Botswana over a 10-day period after which I shall spend my last few days in SA with Miss M and her family before I head home

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time in CT and as previously mentioned, think it an apt end to my volunteering experience. I will miss the city and think I will be back someday to relive my tourist experiences here. Saying bye to the project will be especially hard because this goodbye will be the real one. An end to a truly amazing experience

Surviving Cape Town

Since I’ve already established that CT cannot be considered part of Africa, it is easy to explain why my work-life balance has tilted ever so slightly to the “life” part. I HAVE been working; don’t get me wrong but nothing as challenging as my previous volunteer experiences. Funny enough, I did not factor the potential for this into my thinking when I booked the trip so it’s worked out rather nicely for me. I’m having a mini holiday before my real holiday, which would mark the end of the trip…which I will not whine about at this stage but can’t deny that when the thought crosses my mind unpleasant things happen inside me. Now, waffling aside, the real point of this post is to talk about my recent activities in CT so here goes

The kids at the pre-school have been my main preoccupation work-wise. As with all my crèche/pre-school experiences, this has been equally enjoyable. In fact more enjoyable simply for the fact that the kids speak near perfect English (in addition to Afrikaans and Xhosa (pronounced: click-sound-osa; will let you have fun with that!) – very impressive especially considering they are age 4 on average) which makes communication all the more easy AND interesting. Some of the things they do and say take me right back to my childhood and it’s odd how easy I can relate given that I’m over twenty years older than them. One 6 year old has a Michael Jackson obsession and he randomly breaks out into song (more so recently when he noticed that I sing along with him; fun!) and has moonwalking and break-dancing down to an art. Some of them have started to develop wit and perceptiveness - we were talking about weight the other day and one of them pointed out that I can’t be considered fat but ALMOST fat. The other teachers and I could not help but burst out laughing at this rather astute observation - just got to love it! A few of them are rather naughty and taming them can pose some challenge but their lovely, gregarious ways more than over compensate for these frustrations. These kids are beautiful, full of life and each talented in their own way. I pray they grow up in a South Africa that allows them to flourish

Helping out at the orphanage has also been fun! The work I’ve been involved in so far has mostly involved running reading and Math workshops with the kids as a supplement to what they are taught at school. As previously mentioned, these are terrific kids who have an abundance of resources (certainly in relative terms) at their disposal. They are in want for nothing and have an existence akin to any regular kid in SA (or the West, I dare say). Being around them always puts a smile on my face - from their sly antics to their jokes and vivacious personalities

A funny observation has been made in the time we’ve spent working in Masiphumelele. On one of its more deserted streets, there is a colourfully painted wall protecting a small wooden cottage and right in the middle of the wall is a white coloured slot. The words: “Baby Rescue” are boldly emblazoned on this wall. Add this to the slot and someone came up with the theory that this could be a shelter of some sort where mothers who don’t want their babies, for whatever reason, can deposit them (through the slot) thereby maintaining anonymity. Apparently, under the slot dwells a nice, comfy baby cot that the abandoned babies would fall into and is checked once a day. The flaws with this theory [which was parroted as the truth for a while] are manifold but the one that first sprung to mind was: “what do these poor babies do if they get “dropped” off hours before the cot is checked?” Or “what if three or four kids are dropped off before the cot gets checked; do they just climb over each other and play house?” Anyway, it turns out that after all the debates this baby rescue place has nothing at all to do with rescuing babies. We still don’t know why it’s there but humour lies in the fact that we spent time, nearly each occasion we drove past, debating something that was so ludicrous an idea to begin with!

The fun side of things commenced on my first weekend. Friday afternoon (we tend to have these off work) was spent checking out the infamous Waterfront area after a failed attempt to climb Table Mountain (for weather-related reasons). The area has an eclectic mix of malls, arts and crafts shops, restaurants, cafes and a large arena for various entertainment acts. It is quite the tourist destination and most of the people there were whipping out their cameras for shots at every corner. Dinner that day was at a cozy restaurant called the Octopus Garden in one of the nearby towns called St James. The owner had gone through a phase in the past where all visitors were allowed to write on the walls of the restaurant. Reading these random scribbles made by people in days gone past was one source of entertainment. The other was when one of our fellow volunteers sat at the piano in the middle of the restaurant to display his, hitherto unknown, musical talent. The whole restaurant was singing along to various ballads soon enough…of course this was way past the main course, dessert and drinks…pure comedy!

The Saturday was spent with a bunch of the other volunteers on a tour of vineyards around CT. The wine connoisseurs amongst you will know that SA, specifically CT, is famous for its relatively recent wine history and offering. We got to see vineyards in the Stellenboch, Franschoek and Paarl areas and have to say, it was pretty good wine and though I’ve never visited a vineyard or wine factory, they all seemed well run. We were also taught the art of wine tasting, which was an interesting [read: humourous] experience. It was a whole day affair and after all the wine tasting and gallivanting, we were ready for a big meal and bed!

On Sunday, a few of us hired a car and drove out to the Kirstenboch National Botanical Gardens, which was a far better experience than I envisaged. The garden is littered with SA’s national flower – the protea in almost every colour imaginable. The lawns are all green and perfectly mowed; various ponds and statuettes scattered across its uneven layout. CT’s full mountain range is in close proximity and appears to loom over this picturesque haven. There were different species of birds floating about and we even spotted an owl and its young, resting in a friendly tree. It was a perfect day and many a family were making good use of it – picnicking in the greens, playing Frisbee, kids chasing butterflies, everyone seemingly blissful. It took us a few hours to tour the whole garden and we retired to one of its restaurants for a scrumptious lunch. We then drove around Cape Town and made our to one of the towns on its outskirts [can’t quite recall the name now] to spend our evening listening to Joyce Meyer speak. I didn’t really know who she was prior to this and as I haven’t been to church in a while, have to say that she did have an inspiring thing or two to say, obliterating my initial apprehension at tagging along with the other volunteers to this event. All in all, it was a great day!

The following weekend was relatively tame: Friday afternoon was spent checking out the popular Boulder’s Beach, located in Simon’s town, which is close to Fishoek. Boulder’s Beach is home to the African penguin and we spent half an hour or so watching these little fun creatures frolic about on the shores of the Atlantic. We then made our way up to Cape Point and Cape of Good Hope, apparently the south western most part of Africa. The view from the clock tower at the tip of Cape Point was absolutely stunning; pictures just don’t do it justice I think! For the umpteenth time, I found myself swept away by the beauty of this country

On Saturday morning, I hopped on the train (yes, these folks actually have a train system that works!) and spent some time in the buzzing CT metropolis having a wander around and sorting out my hair, amongst other things. I then met up with one of my volunteer friends for lunch in the town centre and a trip back to the Waterfront. We hopped on to a boat cruise, which took us round to see all of the CT harbour area, with Table Mountain in clear view from the ocean. Our tour guide was funny and witty, making the experience all the more fun. We stumbled upon a rather entertaining, FREE open-air concert thereafter, ending our day with a bang!

Sunday morning was spent checking out Robben Island, previously home to many a political prisoner, not only from SA but actually worldwide. The boat ride across lasted 20 minutes or so and we were given a full tour of the island, including one of the prisons, where we saw the tiny cell Nelson Mandela spent 18 years inhabiting. Our tour guides described, in detail, the morbid circumstances under which the prison was run and gave us a good history lesson of the roles various countries played in South Africa’s history, specifically in the evolution and abolishment of apartheid. The island, very beautiful and rich in history has become more of a tourist attraction and some of its buildings are used to host international conferences and such. We got home late that afternoon and had a barbecue to celebrate our sun-filled existence and again, ended our day with a bang!

As you can see, I’ve been very hard at work. Having fun is not always easy, but someone has to do it! I will try to “survive” the rest of my time in CT :D

T-I-N-A...methinks!

I’d been told Cape town (CT henceforth) would be THE South African experience but have to say that it has completely taken my breath away. From its azure skies to its beautiful white sand and stone beaches, not to mention its astounding mountainous perimeter; its nothing short of paradise. CT [and its surrounding towns] is laid across mountainous plains with the largest mountains (including the infamous Table Mountain) forming its boundaries; or at least so it seems, looking from the inside out. It’s also home to world-renowned tourist attractions like Table Mountain, Robben Island and a myriad of vineyards. I will be sure to update you guys on my views of all the aforementioned

Since my arrival in the area, I’ve had to remind myself on a number of occasions that I’m still on the continent and haven’t been magically swept away to the Western world. I mean other parts of SA have had the Western feel but can’t say it’s anything like this. CT is what I imagine a fusion of Colorado and San Francisco would look like. CT city is something of a commercial hub for the southern part of South Africa and is well endowed with glossy, tall office buildings, large shopping malls, hotels, well-tarred roads and all the mod cons. The surrounding suburbs have lovely homes scattered across hills and mountains with meandering [again, well-tarred] roads that reflect the uneven plain. The view driving through any of these towns is very eye-catching: formidable mountains in the horizon, surrounded by the perfectly blue ocean and as one drives up or down any one of the many mountains in the area, there is ample opportunity to appreciate the view of the city

I’m staying in a little town called Fishoek, which is about an hour’s drive from CT. It consists of a decent stretch of beach, a town centre with a few shops and amenities, with the rest of it being residential. The set-up is pretty much as described above and the view from my room in the house if of the ocean and a series of mountains as well as the rest of the town; our house is up on a hill. It’s a lovely home to approximately 20 volunteers and we are in need of nothing; at least to my mind. I share a room with 4 other girls and it’s very comfortable; certainly one of the most comfortable accommodations I’ve had on the trip. Traveling to CT ended up being a whole day affair as my flight from Richard’s Bay was cancelled so I had to wait a few hours to catch a later one and finally arrived in CT at about midnight. My appreciation for the level of comfort the accommodation had to offer was at its height on that day – I curled up into that soft bed and slept like a baby

Needless to say, my work out here has been the least challenging. Most of our work is done at an informal settlement and a township, both near the Fishoek area. The informal settlement is called Red Hill and consists of makeshift houses that are thus because the settlers are forbidden to put up any permanent structures as the government has plans to relocate them…these plans have been under implementation for 16 years or so with no real evidence that they will ever materialize. There is definitely an income gap between the folks in Red Hill and those in Fishoek but it’s not as wide as some of the places I’ve seen. We teach at a couple of crèches in the township and the kids are all healthy and appear to be well looked after. They are not particularly disadvantaged and the crèche works like any other – a decent establishment where parents can leave their kids while they attend to their jobs. The kids speak good English and are happy and thriving. I enjoy being around them and helping to educate them. The age range for the kids is 1 – 6 years. There are about 35 kids in total, all very adorable. We are currently in the process of refurbishing the other crèche and spend several afternoons a week working on that. From what I’m told, there are many more kids at the other crèche and the school requires a lot more help from volunteers than the one I work at
The other township - Masiphumelele (Masi for short), is in a more developed setting – tarred roads, proper houses, decent amenities and shops etc. It’s however more crammed compared to Fishoek and has fewer mod cons to offer; the majority of the population there is black South African. It is difficult to say with any certainty that set ups like Masi are a legacy of the racism and segregation that came with apartheid, but that would be my guess. That said, walking through the streets of CT, one has to note how multi-racial it is and the general feel is akin to that in any major Western City

We work at some of the Masi schools (in a teaching capacity) and some of the clinics in that locality. There is a vet shelter for stray or abandoned domesticated animals, which a couple of the other volunteers work at. There is also an orphanage for kids infected or affected by HIV, which we do some work with. In all frankness, the children at this orphanage are in want for nothing. Their every whim is taken care of. In addition to the basics (i.e. good food, comfortable home, parental attention and guidance, good, clean clothes), they get extra help with their academics (through us – we help them with reading, math and homework), swimming lessons, piano lessons, help with any sport/thing they express an interest in…the list could go on. The set-up is truly impressive. I’ve seen a few orphanages in the last 6 months, nothing like this!

We run a reading and art workshop at one of the libraries in Masi, which some of the kids attend on a daily basis. They are mostly enthusiastic about the sessions and it’s one way of keeping them busy doing something creative and productive. I love these sessions!

HIV/AIDS awareness in this area is nothing like what I encountered in St Lucia. They are probably where St Lucia will be in a few years to come, if AI’s and other efforts are far-reaching – the subject is no longer taboo; education initiatives have taken root such that AI’s help is not even needed. Most people view HIV testing as the norm rather than something to be ashamed of or treat in a clandestine fashion. I don’t have any of the statistics for the region at hand but will be really surprised if it is anything like the dire levels noted in the KwaZulu-Natal province

If I ever needed concrete evidence to rule SA out as a typical African country, CT has offered that evidence. I’m sure some, if not all of you will agree with me after reading this post that This Is [definitely] Not Africa!

St Lucia - gone too soon

I honestly cannot comprehend how fast the last month has gone. All too soon, my time in St Lucia has come to an end and in line with my reflective mood I wanted to share my main highlights during my time here

I had a substantial amount of my time apportioned to working in the local crèches and inevitably I had favourites amongst the kids. That said I found each of the hundred odd kids that I interacted with to be an absolute delight and I will always cherish the memories of my time spent with them. For now, just a few words on each of my special ones:

Smangah aka Bubbles: he’s 11months old and is built like a 3 year old. He has a big afro and every time I pick him up, I have to resist the urge to bury my face in his big, soft curls. He is just adorable. He always wants to play with the older kids though he is not even walking yet and I think some of them are actually scared of him. He means no harm and is a very sociable chap. He loves his food (which may account for his size, though he’s not fat, just big) and will smack his lips in delight as each morsel touches his tongue. Just has to put a smile on your face

Pilo: she’s barely 2 and in absolute denial of this fact. She wants to hang out with all the older kids and do things that she lacks the mental and/or motor skills to execute. Just have to love her; she has a beautiful smile and I find her assertiveness very endearing. She insists on feeding herself though she ends up using half the food to draw a circle around herself, with half of the other half smeared around her face; hysterical! She took an instant liking to me and the feeling was reciprocated

Lily: 9 months old, absolutely gorgeous and you can already tell she’s a lady. She has a soft voice and you can barely hear her even when she’s crying her heart out. She has a lovely smile and was a favourite amongst most of the volunteers

Princess: about 2 years old. I call her the scowling diva. I don’t think I ever saw her smile, not even once. She would usually be found sitting alone, wearing a scowl and totally disinterested in the world around her. On occasion, she’d go out and play with the other kids but she was mostly happy [as happy as a scowling diva can be] to be alone. I’d try playing with her and she took to lego and playing with dolls or sitting on the seesaw. She used to hate being touched (especially by me) but after a while, I think she just got used to me and the other day I carried her round the school for a walk and she feel asleep in my arms, her head comfortably nested in my bosom. I love her and hope she learns to smile soon

Pumelela: about 5 months old and his name translates to “Success” in English. He is a doll! He is so pretty most people think he’s a girl when they first see him. Light skinned, little afro, beautiful eyes and smile and a very friendly personality. He hardly cries; I believe the only times he does is if he’s hungry or sleepy. He loves his food and aims to finish whatever serving he’s given. Eat-belch-fart-play-sleep is his routine at school pretty much. I took a strong liking to him and it was hard to say bye to him

Senzo: about 2 and a half and is the cutest little boy. He just loves to cuddle and is quite the smiler. Can be very naughty and is usually up to some trick or the other. Loves his food and will usually go through his portion plus the leftovers of his friends! He has a happy-go-lucky personality that I love

Natti: he’s 11 but has development problems that haven’t yet been diagnosed. Until about a month ago, he was crawling around like a baby and only recently started walking though not independently. He drools and makes sounds like an 8 – 10 month old but can feed himself and is fully potty trained. Apparently there is nothing that the education system can offer him by way of special attention and I guess his folks have given up on getting medical help. He is such a lovely boy; will usually greet everyone with a smile and likes to play with his toys or just be. I’m sure with some help he can do so much more but for now he’s just another baby

Zola: 9 months old, could be older but also seems to have some development problems. He can’t sit up straight and is usually always lying down or cuddling close to someone. He doesn’t eat very much and is a very quiet baby. He is beautiful, with the saddest eyes ever and a look that just melts your heart

My next highlight has to be the work I did on HIV Education. As I’ve alluded to in previous posts, the HIV situation in SA (specifically in the Kwa-Zulu Natal Province) is a dire one and the efforts of AI to turn things around is important and must be commended. It was good to see the seriousness with which most of the locals attended the sessions. They all asked intelligent questions on the subject and generally had a positive attitude towards the education initiative. Sadly, most of our organized sessions have a disproportionate female to male ratio. We tried to deal with that by organizing a football tournament to draw in the male crowd, with the caveat that they spend a few hours getting some HIV education. It was a great success; the guys from the village turned up in their numbers, paid attention during the HIV session and asked, again intelligent and insightful questions about the subject. I was pleased to a part of the whole thing and I hope in time to come the myths and negative social behaviour attached to the disease will be eradicated in its entirety

I got involved in home-based care during my time here and found it to be a great experience. As a reminder, what this essentially entails is going into the villages and offering a door-to-door service to patients at home, offering medical care and advice where we can do so. Note that the law in South Africa prohibits foreigners, even if qualified, from giving out full medical care unless with a valid license, which I’m told is near impossible to get one’s hands on. So a lot of the work is limited to just providing human contact i.e. show these people that someone cares about them, provide food supplies and nutritional supplements and if possible dress wounds and take care of other first aid needs. Most of the patients we see are HIV positive so are usually on a lot of medication, experience complications and other ailments that come with the disease. I am usually in awe of how positive they all are about their circumstances and they are all so appreciative of the work we do. The most heart-wrenching case I saw was a 2-year old boy who is HIV positive (contracted from his mom through the birthing process) and has his ears, hands, feet and genitals are covered in sores – a symptom of the disease. He sat quietly, sucking on his feeding bottle as we dressed his wounds. In addition to all this, sand fleas had raided his feet, so we had to take them out, always a painful experience but he displayed such equanimity and strength, barely crying; I was in complete awe of him. Not long after we were done, he was sucking on a lollipop and playing in the yard with his sister, happy as a bunny. Made me think what a great thing childhood is; it makes one see the world in such simple terms…
I also got infuriated by some of the inefficiencies in the SA medical system that were highlighted by some of the cases; people not getting the right medication for their ailments because medical staff couldn’t be bothered to properly assess the patient’s needs and deal with them accordingly. As if the AIDS epidemic in itself isn’t something of a wake-up call…

My experiences in St Lucia, as in all the other places I’ve been, have been inspiring, rewarding and given me much food for thought. Tomorrow I head out to my sixth and final volunteer project based in a town near Cape Town, in the southern most part of South Africa

The St Lucia stint

Life in St Lucia is moving on smoothly, for the most part, and I’ve pretty much fallen into the swing of things. The main dent in my time here is the demise of my camera during a chill-out session at the beach in my first weekend. I was actually dozing off whilst reading a book when a huge wave suddenly came and washed my stuff away, including my camera. It’s not working as I speak, though I’m working on getting it fixed and, fingers crossed, it gets resuscitated. That obviously means no pictures for most of my activities in St Lucia. Anyway, it’s now time to give you guys an update on my work out here

The St Lucia project is AI’s second biggest (Zambia was the biggest) and a lot of the projects out here bear a strong resemblance to those in Zambia. I won’t bore you by repeating what these entail but will rather focus on the more unique projects

There are 3 projects on offer to volunteers: community, medical and photography. The community project entails teaching/education as well as HIV/AIDS education and helping with various initiatives in the community. The medical project mainly involves providing home-based care in much the same format as that done in Livingstone. The medical volunteers also get involved in HIV education. The photographers typically go on game drives to take photos of animals and the landscape and also spend time editing these photos for the AI database and help with some of the nature conservation efforts in the community. St Lucia is well known for being one of the larger nature conservation sites in South Africa

I signed up for the community project and for the teaching aspect of it, we spend our mornings teaching at 2 local crèches in the Kuhla village. The children there are not necessarily disadvantaged; the crèche, like any other, simply provides a place for parents to leave their kids while they take care of their job responsibilities during the day. That said, you may have surmised from my previous post that folk in Kuhla are not exactly rolling in cash, certainly not in comparison to those in St Lucia. Life in the village can certainly be improved in many regards. The age range of the children is 4 months to 5 years. The setup at each of the crèches is very different with one having far less children who are well attended to and is very well organized. The other crèche is more chaotic in comparison with a large number of children, seemingly incompetent/laid back staff and is rather unorganized. The children are all beautiful though and while I get involved in teaching the older ones, I prefer to and have spent far more time with the younger ones. Teaching the older kids is similar to the work I did in Zanzibar, Kenya and Mozambique, so thought I’d give myself a different challenge this time round. Working with the babies involves more diaper changing, feeding, putting to sleep, wiping snot and tears, playing games and general hangout time than working with the older ones affords. I’m really enjoying it and may well be taking a couple of them home with me

My afternoons are spent working on one of several projects:
Reading club
Quite different to that in Zambia in the sense that there is less of a focus on getting the kids to read but rather a focus on getting them to pick up the skills that will enable them take an interest in reading. This approach was developed based on what the school we work with identified as a weak area for the kids [note, they are aged 12 – 14]. We teach them using a lot of word games [anagrams, word searches, forming sentences with new words, spelling games, hangman, etc] to expand their vocabulary. Some of them have quite weak grammar so some of the sessions turn into English lessons. That said, a few of them are also very bright. (During my first session I was subjected to some form of interrogation, the most poignant question being: “what are your life achievements?” I never do well in answering these sorts of questions and the look on the young lady’s face told me she wasn’t exactly impressed with my answer. I was highly amused and struggled to keep a straight face throughout the whole scenario) The sessions are usually fun and very relaxed but sometimes we make them competitive; we sit on the grass in the shade [under large trees] and catch some cool breeze while we are at it

Gardening
We have a couple of small gardens that we tend to with the aim of providing vegetables and small crops to the people we visit on our home-based care runs. We’ve recently done a revamp of the main gardens and planting season should soon commence. We are currently worried about things like keeping the soil fertile (it’s mostly sand in the area) and maintaining a functional compost heap

Orphanage work
AI is affiliated with a school in one of the nearby villages, which has a number of orphans in attendance and we go over once a week or so to play with and help feed them. There are about 40 orphans or so aged about 6 to 15. They are lovely, very energetic kids and usually good fun. Most of the orphans live with relations in the village. Currently, a set of rooms is being built for a few of the orphans on the school premises, as they have to travel quite far to get there. AI is spearheading this initiative and we work on the project several times a week. The building is now at the furnishing stage so we are spending time constructing beds and putting some finishing touches on it. The kids should be able to move in, in a month or so

HIV education
This is probably the most important aspect of the work being done out here. It is estimated that the infection rate in the region/province is about 80%; note that a sixth of the world’s HIV/AIDS patients are South African. Estimates also suggest that 1000 people die each day from AIDS in South Africa. A lot of work is being done to remove the myths and ignorance around the subject. Apparently one of Bill Gates’ charities has been heavily involved in HIV education and research in South Africa. Nelson Mandela has also been very vocal on the subject especially since his son died of the disease some years ago. Although some of these efforts are often negated by very ignorant comments made by equally prominent people like SA’s current president: Jacob Zuma. Our work in the Kuhla village is with the schools, teaching 12 – 14 year olds about the subject and concurrently with adults in the neighbourhood (the sessions with the kids are actually held in the mornings whilst those with the adults are held in the afternoons). The good news is that they all seem to take it seriously and usually ask questions and want to know more about the subject. Like Zambia, however, there are some cultural issues that may limit the extent of all this good work e.g. it is not uncommon to hear about very young girls getting raped for no apparent reason (turns out 1 in 100 children contract HIV via rape [as in penetrative sex] in South Africa) and women saying no to sex also appears to be a tricky issue while promiscuity in men is the norm rather than a taboo. We tested some of our students’ knowledge the other day and the question at hand was: “what will you do if your partner wants to have unprotected sex and you are uncomfortable doing so?” One answer we got [from a girl] said something along the lines of: “say no but if they persist and threaten to kill you, then acquiesce and get tested as soon as possible thereafter”…need I say more? It has to be said that given some of the shocking statistics around HIV/AIDS in SA (if you are keen to know more on the subject, I highly recommend reading the book titled “28 stories of AIDS in Africa”), it is equally shocking the it’s government has done relatively little to alleviate the problem given the wealth of resources available to them, certainly in comparison to other African countries. A substantial part of the HIV/AIDS work being done here is by charities and NGOs…a disgrace really…yet there seems to be enough money to improve infrastructure in the run-up to hosting the World Cup next year!

10 families
AI has put heads together with the chief in a nearby village to identify the top 10 families in need of help. This help may range from educational needs of children to helping to provide shelter, food and nourishment to these families. I’ve not personally been exposed to this side of the project but from what I’m told, the efforts being exerted are far reaching. AI has helped some of these families set up gardens to provide food; built houses where current accommodation is deemed unsuitable; volunteers go along to help children with homework and other educational needs. The aim is to basically help these families get on their feet and be able to fend for themselves. It’s proved very successful thus far and the families that have benefited from the programme in the past are currently doing well

Once again, I find the work I’m doing very rewarding and am in awe of everyone I work with. My fellow volunteers are all enthusiastic and the people we work with are usually humble, receptive and grateful for our efforts. I find myself getting attached to this way of life, yet again, and will be very sad to leave in a week or so. One month is just not enough time to spend on any one project, it turns out! Oh well, will just have to make the most of my remaining time here, I guess

Journeying on to the first world in the third world

My last day in Zambia ended on a rather sour note. One of our friendlier security guards was playing football with one of the other volunteers, stopped to take a break and started coughing uncontrollably. He soon started coughing big clots of blood; we tried to get an ambulance or other transportation to get him to the hospital but they came some 30 minutes after his coughing started. It was torturous watching him cough so much blood and being powerless to do much to help; he wasn’t in pain either. He’d already started losing consciousness by the time the vehicle arrived and he passed away en route to the hospital. Apparently, it was an AIDS related event – he suffered organ failure. We were so shocked by the whole episode; just 3 hours prior to that, I was joking around with him and he was in his usual jovial mood, perfectly normal. A matter of hours later, he was no more. The volunteer who was playing football with him and who was by his side right to the end, suffered the hardest. Know I’m saying the obvious but it really makes you think how fickle life is and how we should all appreciate the people we love [and hopefully who love us back] cause unfortunately death does not usually offer forewarnings – it’s just lazy like that! May his soul rest in peace

Sadly, life goes on so I was up bright and early the next morning [not that I slept very much that night in any case] for my 8-hour bus-ride to Lusaka. I did catch up on sleep and read for the rest of my time on the bus. I caught a cab to my Lusaka friend’s house (my Lusaka friend, for those that recall is the friend of Miss L’s with whom I crashed on my first night in Zambia), where I was to be crashing for the night. She cooked me a very nice meal, we watched some TV and I was asleep soon thereafter, a much better night’s rest than the previous

Keen to avoid all encumbrances on my journey to SA, I made my way to the airport well in advance of my due check-in time. I whiled away the time with some reading and people watching – I love people watching, it’s one of my favourite sports : ); there was the odd chuckle during that time. I made it to Jo’burg safe and sound, picked up my luggage and caught my connecting flight to Durban. It was pretty late and rainy when we arrived in Durban. Thankfully, there was someone there to meet me. We were soon seated in a warm, comfortable vehicle, making our way to St Lucia, my new home for the next four weeks. Our journey there was about 3 hours; it rained the whole time and was pitch black so there wasn’t much to see on the way, just lots of very tall trees. I do acknowledge that given my veritable height of 5’2.5”, my perspective of very tall may well be skewed, but would ask you to take my word: they were damn tall, those trees! Apparently the Kwazulu Natal province, which has amongst other towns, Durban and St Lucia is made up of many game reserve parks and other nature conservation initiatives. So I will be seeing a lot more tall trees in the coming weeks, if I get around

I know I’ve said a few words previously on how well developed the parts of SA I’ve seen are. Well St Lucia is no different. It’s a very quaint, beautifully scenic tourist town. Driving round the whole town takes no more than 20 – 30 minutes – it’s that small! Imagine well tarred roads arranged like a tic-tac-toe board. Each road is lined with perfectly manicured lawns and tall palm trees, where appropriate. Each street has a mixture of holiday homes, guesthouses, holiday flats for rent and such. Very few people actually live in St Lucia. The town centre is furnished with a good mix of restaurants, a shopping arcade, coffee shops, a fruit and curio market and a couple of banks. The Indian ocean is a walking distance from all this and even has an estuary into which Lake St Lucia flows to join it [“it” being the Indian ocean]. This part of the Indian ocean is rather rough with huge waves that slap the sand dunes on its banks. It’s just gorgeous. As you may have deduced, there are not many people in St Lucia, even during the peak tourist season of Dec – Mar, so the beaches are nice and clear usually. I know I will be taking some long walks along those shores in the coming days

The volunteer house is a complexly well-designed house made of stone. I still don’t know how many rooms there really are, but there are many of them. I share one with a Brit girl and it’s nice and comfortable, complete with air conditioning. Our living/dining area is large, decorated with wooden structures and African paraphernalia in a way that matches it’s stone exterior. There is a lovely stone-built kitchen as well and a small chill-out room with a pool table. There is a swimming pool and braai (SA lingo for barbecue) area and a scenic view of our street. It’s not a bad pad at all!

Work has already begun in earnest. Most of our work is done in a nearby village called Kuhla. It’s quite the contrast to St Lucia: untarred roads, a mixture of mud huts and brick houses, all haphazardly scattered across its uneven landscape. There are hardly any trees lining its streets, rather a mix of street vendors and tall grass and of course no street lights! Without the providence of the moon, it’s cast into pitch black dark at night. It’s just what you’d expect a third world setting to look like…and just round the way, is our beautiful St Lucia – amazing. I will be sure to relay my observations of how this dynamic affects life on either side of the divide. I am working with a lot of babies on this project, which I’m totally loving, they are just too adorable and I’m in love with a couple of them already!

The weather hasn’t been great thus far so hopefully that improves and I get to do some outdoor activities too!

Travel tales - getting to Livingstone

Getting to Livingstone in Zambia was supposed to be as straightforward as getting to any of the other destinations in my trip. However, things did not quite go according to plan, which made the journey all the more interesting. The outcome could have been disastrous but my luck was shining the whole way through and I made it to Livingstone unscathed

The journey from Vilanculos to Jo’burg went smoothly. I was driven to the airport, checked in and ready to board the plane, all in record time. There was even time to sit with the project managers, who dropped me off, for a decent goodbye chat. Two hours after take-off, we arrived in Jo’burg and I breezed through immigration and grabbed my luggage. I had 2 hours till my flight to Lusaka [Zambia’s capital], more than enough time to do all the things I had on my to-do list. First off, I was due to meet Miss M to collect some medical supplies my sister had mailed over a few weeks ago. She was a few minutes late but that did not really have a huge bearing on timing. She stayed with me as I checked in and we went to grab a quick coffee thereafter. I left her about 45 minutes to boarding time. I had to buy some toiletries [which I clearly could not get in Zambia??] and get some cash from the forex bureau [again, my expectations of Zambia were that low. Nope, I definitely won’t be able to access cash there!]. The queue at the forex bureau was substantial. Stubborn and delusional, I persisted, telling myself that 20 minutes was nothing and that I would make it to the gate well in time! I got my cash alright, then turned up 15 minutes to take-off and not only was the gate closed, there was no one in sight, not even the airport staff. Several desks down, one of the SAA (South African Airways) staff informed me, with some regret that I was not going to be on the flight to Lusaka that night. Feeling an imminent panic attack [I’ve never missed a flight in my life, what the hell do you do in that situation??], I swiftly calmed myself down and shifted gears to wing-it mode. I asked the attendant to explain to me what I had to do to get on the next available flight. My next step was to go to the SAA main desk, pay a penalty for missing my flight and book myself onto the next one. It was easy enough to find; the attendant there was very helpful, the price for my folly was £10, I can live with that. She then directed me to the baggage claim area for “offloads” to retrieve my luggage. Again, no sweat, luggage was in hand in a matter of minutes. It was about 7.30pm at night and I had been booked onto a flight for 10.50am the next morning. I phoned Miss L, my good friend and ex housemate, who was supposed to meet me at the airport in Lusaka that night and with whom I was planning to spend a day before going down to Livingstone. She laughed at my predicament [in a good natured way] and agreed to meet me at the airport in Lusaka the next morning instead. “Right! Where do I spend the night?” was the next obvious question. Thinking I could crash with Miss M, I tried calling her several times, unsuccessfully. Then I remembered her saying she was going to be working late that day, possibly till about midnight so it would clearly have been an inconvenience to her. I would have to sort this out myself. I was told at the airport tourist desk that airport accommodation was non-existent, the nearest hotel was over-priced [or I was too poor to afford it], and so my best bet was to get into one of the cheap guesthouses located in the vicinity. The lady at the desk was kind enough to give me couple of brochures to choose from. The arrivals hall at OR Tambo Airport was actually filled with sales people for quite a few of these guesthouses and they approach one with a sales pitch they note any signs of loitering. An affable chap strolled up to me and started his pitch. He seemed friendly enough and offered me a discount price compared to those listed in the brochures I’d been given earlier. The deal included transport from and to the airport, bed and breakfast, for a whopping £30. I went with my instincts and agreed to be taken to his guesthouse, which was apparently 7 minutes away. In truly hospitable fashion, he took my luggage and helped me find a comfortable spot in the hall while we waited for the car and driver to arrive [he’d put a call in for one once our deal was agreed]. We got on to talking and he told me about his studies at a university in Cape Town; his ambition was to set up a not-for-profit organization to spread the use of internet across the African continent and we discussed exactly how that would work. He then told me the background to his involvement in the guesthouse work – just a little something he was doing to make some cash. The establishment was owned by his pastor (as in the leader of his church). He was Congolese but had a Zambian name [he was named after his dad’s friend] and had lived most of his life in South Africa. We had a good conversation, which didn’t last long because the driver soon turned up. It was when I sat in the car that it dawned on me that this could be a complete hoax and that I could be driven to the middle of nowhere and killed or God-knows-what! Feeling another panic attack coming on, I calmed myself down and looked at my watch – 7 minutes he said it would take; if we were not there in that time, I would jump out of the car or start acting like a deranged lunatic! I sent Miss M a text to tell her what was happening, at least that way someone else knew my whereabouts. I noted every landmark on the way and watched the driver’s every move like a hawk. We got to the guesthouse about 10 minutes after we left the airport. At the 7-minute mark I noticed that we were in a built-up area, which gave me some comfort. The guesthouse was in a decent residential area and looked like a legitimate business; I recognized the logo emblazoned all over the entrance; it matched the brochure the Congolese chap had showed me earlier on. I was all checked in and showed to my room before I was completely relaxed about the whole thing. The staff was very friendly and my comfort seemed to be a priority. I think there were only 2 other guests that night in the 10-bedroom establishment. The room was very nice, with a rather chic bathroom and comfortable bed. I shut all the windows, took a nice long shower and received a timely phone call from Miss M. She was even more panicked than I was in the car. She gave me all her numbers in case of an emergency and cautioned me to take care of myself. I explained how things went down with missing the flight and getting to the guesthouse. At this point, the whole experience had whittled down to a humorous event and I calmed her down and made her see it as such. I was to inform her once I was checked in and on the flight the next morning. I had one of the best night’s sleep in my life that evening. Breakfast was prepared and served by the Congolese dude; it was actually pretty good: toast, a very tasty omelette with bacon, mushrooms and onions. It was all washed down with a nice cup of tea. Fully stuffed and keen to NOT miss my flight, I made my way to the airport. I arrived at 8.30am on the dot, my scheduled reported time. I breezed through check-in and security checks; I even had time to go online for a bit. I was at the gate 30 minutes prior to the required time. It was only when I was on the plane that I heaved a sigh of relief and completely relaxed. Two hours or so later, we touched down in Lusaka

Miss L was there as promised and we soon hopped into the back of her friend’s car for a short drive to town (Miss L was on holiday and staying with her family in Kitwe [pronounced Kitway], located a good 4 hours’ drive away from Lusaka so we were going to be spending the night with one of her friends who resides in Lusaka). The drive showed that Lusaka was a lot like Accra; the blazing heat gave it an even more familiar feel. We got home and were digging into a good plate of Nshima and chicken stew in no time. We relaxed that afternoon, chatting, watching some TV and cracking jokes. I regaled them with tales of my “adventures” from the previous night. They commended me for my courage: apparently in the hierarchy of Africans that cannot be trusted, Congolese rank second, after Nigerians [can’t say I disagree with that] and before South Africans, so the gods were truly smiling down at me! [All said, very tongue-in-cheek, clearly] That evening, we went to a nearby bar called Rhapsody’s for a few drinks and more jokes! It was good. When we retired for the evening, I was about to go into my suitcase when I realized that it had been broken into. I have a pretty sturdy lock on my bag so the culprit could not break it and resorted to tampering with the zip. They had rummaged through my case (I could tell from the moment I opened it; complete ruckus) and strangely took an 8G memory card I kept as spare, leaving the empty case for me?? I think they attempted to steal my sunglasses, but those have seen better days and are practically falling apart so obviously not worth much. Thankfully, that morning I had decided to keep all my chargers and valuable electronics in my hand luggage, something I don’t always do…pretty damn lucky! Apparently OR Tambo Airport in Jo’burg is notorious for thefts and tampered luggage so I got the first taste of it. At least I didn’t lose anything valuable

The next morning, we had a nice breakfast and found a place to sort out my hair (it seems that locks have become quite the craze all over the continent and I’ve not had a problem finding decent places to get a touch-up every so often and for good prices – something I can’t say I expected when I set out on my trip). I was then put on a bus to get me to Livingstone, reticent to bid Miss L and friend goodbye. The bus ride felt so much longer than the 8 hours it took. Exhausted and ready for bed, I was grateful to be met at the station by the AI staff. The accommodation was 5 minutes away from the station and before long I was enjoying a nice hot shower, unpacked and tucked into bed. I slept well that night

It was also just as well that it was my birthday the next day. The AI coordinators were kind enough to give me an “easy” day. I had a brief induction since I’ve been through a standard AI induction a couple of times already. I was driven around to see the very multi-faceted project – more on that soon. I got to appreciate the AI camp, a cluster of buildings that houses up to 30 people; currently home to 25 odd volunteers. I share a room with 2 other girls and we have an en-suite bathroom, complete with 24 hr hot water, woohoo!!! Our room is in the main building, which also has the kitchen, a large dining area and a fully stocked bar (which runs on a tab system – very dangerous!). The next significant building has a large lounge where we spend most evenings watching DVDs and chatting about daily activities. There is an office for the AI staff that also has wireless internet, yay!! That evening, they surprised me with a very pretty and delicious cake; someone down the road was having a barbecue, so most of us went along and I got to taste crocodile meat for the first time! Very good actually, it tastes like very good chicken. It was a lovely day and I had a peaceful sleep that night, the events of the last few days but a distant memory

The journey to Mozambique

My last week in Nairobi was fairly unpleasant, putting it mildly. Amongst other things, I was battling with the flu for what seemed like the umpteenth time. By the middle of the week, I was in a fragile state and had to spend a day in bed to at least get some rest. The medication [really OVER medication] ensued but it seemed to work in a nonchalant fashion as by the weekend I was still blowing and coughing out multi-coloured “things”. Needless to say, I was ready to go!

I was up at the unfriendly hour of 3am on Monday to get ready and head to the airport. I had spent the weekend with my lovely friend, Miss T, who lives in Nairobi (and had done so for the last few weekends) so I said goodbye to her with mixed feelings (sad to leave her but jubilant to leave and hopefully be able to regain my health as this town proved rather unkind to me in that regard). I was at the airport by 5am and went through the motions of checking in, still half asleep. Of course, I was slapped right awake when they told me the charge I’d incurred for excess luggage (I didn’t go easy on the curio and gift shopping in Kenya, I confess). I negotiated and got the price down somewhat but it was still a staggering amount to pay, I felt. We were airborne by 8am and I took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep though the flight to Johannesburg was only 4 hours long and we arrived a little ahead of schedule.

The Tambo airport in Jo’Burg is rather impressive if only for its sheer vastness; it’s generously endowed with all the mod cons. The immigration procedure was very straightforward and within minutes I was done, luggage retrieved and fervently hugging my dearest friend, Miss M, with whom I was going to be spending the next 24 hours before catching my flight to Mozambique. She’d taken a day off work to spend time with me as we’d not seen each other for about 3 years and not only was a full catch up session long overdue, we were supposed to plan our road trip to Namibia and Botswana. She first drove me to her lovely home in the suburbs of Sandton. The parts of Jo’burg I saw on the way were beautiful and well developed. SA is definitely on top of its game, I was tempted to think; though I’ll save my in-depth analysis for when I see the rest of the country later this year. Miss M then announced that she’d booked me into a spa for half a day of beautification followed by an evening of comedy. I was totally unprepared for this kind and thoughtful gesture; I’d envisaged a long lunch followed by sleep. I accepted her offer with a grateful smile knowing that this was exactly what I needed after that last week in Nairobi.

After dropping off my luggage, we went for a lovely lunch accompanied by a glass of wine each and planned our trip. The spa session was splendid! I got a full body massage, a pedicure and a facial; I felt brand new. The beautician admonished me for not taking good care of my skin: “overexposure to the sun and lack of exfoliation”, she said. I was too relaxed and sleepy to explain my activities of the last 11 weeks so I just took her “advice and recommendations” quietly. It was dusk by the time we were done, so we headed to town for the comedy show. The show featured international comedians and there were 7 of them in total. I don’t remember the last time I laughed as hard as the first couple of comedians made me laugh; their names I shan’t forget: Dean Edwards -NY based comedian and Trevor Noah - a South African comedian. The rest were funny too, just not as much as those two. It was a great evening and I went to bed that night giggling and reminiscing about some of the jokes with Miss M.

I was actually very sad to be dropped off at the airport the next morning. She had made my first taste of SA sweet and I wanted to stay. Nevertheless, I checked in, said another sad goodbye and went off to kill the hour I had before the plane took off. This time there was no big deal with excess luggage; I had the presence of mind to leave some of my luggage with Miss M and travel with just the one bag for the rest of the trip, till we link up for the Namibia-Botswana leg
The airline that took us to Mozambique was a small one and there were no more than 40 people on the plane in the end (we did a stopover in Kruger, another part of South Africa, to pick up some more passengers). After 2 hours or so of flying, we arrived in the beach town of Vilanculos. The Indian ocean was in full view, even from the airport; and the weather was an excellent 24 degrees Celsius.

The volunteer program coordinators were there to pick me up, as promised. A short drive later, we were at the volunteer camp, which consists of a cluster of huts and a swimming pool (yay!) and is located a stone’s throw from the ocean (yay!). There are about 12 volunteers in total at the camp now, all European. Each hut houses 4 volunteers, each with a single bed and a set of bamboo shelves; there is also an en-suite bathroom with a shower and toilet.

I arrived just after lunch so introduced myself, hurriedly dropped off my luggage and was off to work. I later found out that there is hot water (yay!) if only in the evenings, 3 meals a day cooked by a local chef; a combination of western and local food (yay!) – okay I will stop yaying now! Unfortunately, electricity does not get as far as our camp so power is available on the camp for only 4 hours a day via a generator. Can’t really complain about that; work seems to take up the whole day and the vicinity is so beautiful so any free time should be spent enjoying the outdoors. By the end of the first day, I knew I would definitely be enjoying my time here

PS. The internet situation in Vilanculos is a tad tricky so I envisage getting in touch once a week or so. Also, things did not exactly go according to plan with the Kenya and Uganda photo and video upload, as referenced earlier. I will try to get them up as soon as is feasible and let you guys know