New Year in New Place with New Boy

P.S. I have to add a post-script to alert you to the warthog family sighting I just witnessed. One big mamma and 3 babes, I attempted to get my camera, but I will have to learn to be more sneaky so they don't scamper away from the sound of my loud clomping walk!




























After a 5-day journey up the east coast, Johannes and I have at last made it to our new home on the grounds of Kwa Zulu Private Game Reserve. We arrived yesterday with plenty of time to unpack before his first day of work (today). He is now busy on the 18,000 hectares (44,000+ acres!) of land collecting trees for his upcoming furniture making projects. At times I can hear the chain saw echoing across the masses of trees.
























I’m thinking of Virginia Wolf today and women of times past. I’m feeling a bit like a young bride. I’ve looked out the door a half dozen times, wondering when and if Johannes will be here for lunch. I’ve now swept the floor, washed every last dish, chased a wasp or two, fixed the gap in our twin beds, checked a week’s worth of emails, edited my photos, dug up dirt, planted 2 pots of basil, prepped some chickpeas and lentils for sprouting, toasted butternut seeds and just started cooking dinner our dinner of risotto with butternut squash and chickpeas. And it’s only 1:10pm! In and amongst all that I chatted with Mike, one of the farm managers who stopped by to fix our geyser (hot water heater). He confirmed what I thought: I must keep busy!!! These next few weeks will be a bit boring, he suggested, until I find something to do. And in my housewifely-ness, a girl who has done all her chores and more, I await knowing how my time will unfold here on this beautiful farm. For the rest of the day it will be washing clothes by hand while avoiding the nearby wasp nest and touching up my latest batch of paintings.

Now, I don’t mean to paint a picture of doom and gloom! I’m filling a new pair of shoes and uncertain how to maneuver in them. We drove into the game farm just after noon yesterday, having slept in the rain by the side of a dirt road the night before. The road through the farm to the house is long and windy, full of small hills but rather well maintained for a South African dirt road. We were greeted by a warm, reddish plaster house, tidied and cleaned up just for us. The managers on the farm saw to it that our house was completely equipped with dishrags and soap, dishes and bed linens. There’s a spacious garden, complete with a huge granadilla (passion fruit) hedge and a pawpaw (papaya) tree. There’s a wire fence running the perimeter of the garden to keep the lions and other beasts from trampling through. Johannes and I have plans to make a garden and hopefully a chicken run (no free-range due to hawks)….there’s certainly plenty of space!









Our drive to KZN was roughly 1,600 miles and it took us over 30 hours to drive! Our fully loaded bakkie (truck), kitted out with our clothes, Johannes’ work tools, his motorbike and surfboard, my art and teaching supplies, plus camping material, must have weighed a ton! Mind you, we

didn’t pick the shortest route, which runs through Johannesburg, and we made a couple of detours along the way. Nonetheless, it was a good choice to take 5 days to make the drive. We revisited a campsite we stayed at over Christmas, in Wilderness. From there we went to Ganubi, next to East London, where we stayed with my cousin Paige and her family. After a nice night on a bed, we made way for more camping in the Transkei.

The Transkei is also known as the “Wild Coast” and boy is it wild! Originally, it was a “Tribal Homeland” dedicated to the Xhosa people during Apartheid. The tribal aspects to it remain very visible today. The 45-mile dirt road from the N2 to the small town of Coffee Bay took us well over an hour and half to drive. The roads are plagued with monstrous potholes and the traffic is slow with cows, donkeys, goats and shepherds consistently owning the right of way. The Transkei seeped into my pores, I swear. The sights are unbelievable: All along the coast, the trees weave in and out of each other in majestic groves reminiscent of Tolkein’s lands. The myriads of green hues illuminate each other, creating a Technicolor spectacle. Tree boughs sweep the grounds of the beaches, talking to the rocks and the ambling, mystic cows. Dotting the landscape are mud and cow dung huts, painted electric aqua and peach, making the eyes pop as they trail the hilly horizon. Parts of the coast reminded me of the Cliffs of Mohr and parts of Scotland, dreamy and rambling hills, cliffs tall and austere…but for a second and then you’ll spot women clad in stripes and plaid and floral prints, flashing bright colors, donning large vats of water and lengthy bundles of firewood atop their heads, small babies poking their heads out of swaths of cloth on their backs - and you know you’re not in Scotland.

While in the Transkei we weathered unseasonable rain and lightening storms in Johannes’ sturdy tent, but spent the overcast days rock scrambling along the coast. Over 3 days and 2 nights we stayed at 2 different backpackers’ where it was safe to leave the bakkie unattended, one in Coffee Bay and the other in Umbumvu. We dined on fresh mussels caught by some locals and drank minty, buhu tea that we picked in the Western Cape. Not to mention filling the gaps with strange sheep liver meat wrapped in bacon (Johannes’ choice), some old cheese and crackers and of course, celery with peanut butter!

I see here in this blog today I’m jumping around like a fish out of water, but literally, it has been well over a month since I’ve written in this neglected web journal. I’d like to make mention of a tough last week in Cape Town, during which I was provided with ample love and nourishment from my friends and family there. It was a tough decision leaving Cape Town, knowing that Johannes and I have shortened our agreement for me to stay in KZN. At one point I had thought I’d be coming here for a lengthy year, but after much ado in our newness, we decided one year was a bit too much to chew on for the moment. Too much pressure, too little knowing of one another. And so I left Cape Town not knowing when I’ll be going back, if at all. Not knowing, again, what lies ahead and that KZN might just be another short-term arrangement.

With a lot of flair, I spent my last week in Cape Town delighting in the close-knit group of friends I have collected over the past 12 months. I had the opportunity to go “kloofing” (for which I have no photos) in Suicide Gorge, which consisted of hiking and rock scrambling for about 9 miles, wading through pools of water in a valley, and eventually jumping off of tall cliffs from waterfalls into pools. It was insane and it was incredible! I haven’t ever tested myself in such a fashion and did rather well, I think, despite the ridiculous ass-smacking I got when I hit my tail bone at a rather peculiar angle (it’s still hurting me to sit, after a week in a car!). As you will see from my photos, I was blessed with a lovely last night gathering in my friend Amit & Steffi’s rather crazy banquet style dining room! And so I left Cape Town, fully pumping, grabbing onto the edge of my seat a bit, but in such a way that I am here, HERE, HERE, now, and ready to see what lies next.

One last piece for this epic entry: at dusk last night Johannes took me on a motorbike ride through the dirt roads outside our cottage. Because it was just beginning to mist with rain, I think much of the game had gone into hiding. We saw the usual guinea fowl, but also many Rooibok (red buck), Impala, and as we rounded a corner we surprised 3 gracious, genteel giraffes. I don’t know if anything has ever caught my breath quite like that - we were so close, so bare, so much in the same space. We stood looking [in awe] at each other for the span of a few minutes until they galloped away. I immediately received that moment as a gift rarely given and look forward to sharing more of those with you in the coming months!

The Revel and the Glory

Reveling in the shifting tides of a new year and the glory that comes with the end of school, I have been feeling a lot this month. November in America represents the turn of autumn into winter, straggling red and yellow leaves left to dangle in solitary on trees branches, Thanksgiving feasts and family gathering. And of course, for me, it represents another year in my life!

In South Africa it is entirely different. Nary a thought of Thanksgiving in mind, educators and students prepare for the end of a long year of study. Lunches and proms and award ceremonies have been dotting the weeks, summer steaming up as the first fires of the season bloom. The days are hot and everyone is anticipating a Christmas season that relates more to the holiday mentality we place on July 4th in the USA.

So with this, last weekend I was spoiled to trip away by Johannes. We rode by motorbike (my first ride ever!) to an area close to the southern tip of Africa, Cape Agulus (furthest south I've been yet). It was a magnificent weekend spent on a small farm holding set in the countryside. As you can see, I busied myself pretending to be artist Andy Goldsworthy, producing a floral object that relates more to a wreath than a takeover of color...I had intended to make something huge, but you see, the flowers kept wilting in the heat and the circle shrank and shrank and shrank!






























My birthday was celebrated in many ways, including many phonecalls and cards and sneaky gifts from home. Additionally, my friends here joined for a braai hosted at my friend Christa's place in Camps Bay where we loaded a 12" grill with pounds of "wors" sausage and watched the sun set over the sea. Finally, Monday morning at school, my crew of Student Librarians threw a surprise breakfast for me. I entered the library only to see children climbing out of the bookshelves, hopping about a room taken over with streamers, balloons, candle light and, of course, chocolate cake! The teachers completed the occassion by singing happy birthday to me in English, Afrikaans, and Xhosa. So it was truly a weekend of spirit, of realizing that my efforts put into this place of Cape Town have turned it into something of a home, filled with people who love me!































And whilst I'm feeling so special, I've been able to participate in some even bigger things this week. St. Paul's hosted 2 awards ceremonies to celebrate the academic achievements and improvements made by students this year. I was included in the celebration and awarded 24 students - 12 librarians for their outstanding efforts and 12 literacy students for their improvement in our time together. To boot, I witnessed several of "my" librarians receive the honor of becoming Prefects for next year. We don't really have anything like prefects in the U.S., but they are students in the top level of the school chosen to help lead the rest of the school. A "Head" Girl and Boy are chosen and both were members of my library group. Leonora Rutsa was selected for Head Girl - she has been my right hand in the development of the library, requesting from me that I come to school to work on Saturdays! It was a real "mamma" moment for me to witness her up on stage, totally unaware of her award, burst into tears at the honor of her selection. I had 2 big fat tears of joy rolling down my cheeks. I don't think I've ever felt anything as selfless and giving about this kind of love and joy that I feel for my students. It is an eye-opener into the ways a child can unbuckle the heart.

I am feeling very emotional as the last 2 weeks of school quickly approach! There is so much to do, and so little time. The students are constantly barraging me with questions of how and why and won't I be able to stay next year??? It becomes more and more difficult to understand how I can leave this community, this holding where my heart has truly found a place. But at the end of the day, it will happen. It is my commitment and my personal financial capacity that has enabled me to sustain 12 months at this school and I am relaxing into remembering that. All I know is that there will be a lot of tear shed in the coming weeks and I am prepared!

Ceilings, Beams and Trees

Curled up on my bed, looking at the old wooden ceiling, I am simultaneously in the grips of kidney pain and in the grasp of love. On the eve of my 27th birthday (well, almost), there must be comets rocketing in Sagittarius and Scorpio for I can feel the ground shaking.

I am alone in my kidney pain, suffering some sort of infection, probably brought on by the stresses of finishing my final month at St. Paul’s. I cannot believe this year has almost come to a close. It’s incredibly emotional and I find myself on the verge of tears to part with the many relationships I have built. There’s the group of amazing 12-year-old girls, Student Librarians, who have been my right hand throughout the development of the library. There are the students I’ve witnessed improve, stretch in confidence and attitude and learn the tongue of English and its words on paper. There are the students I’ve taught who still struggle, who I leave knowing their developing struggles are left for other hands. And there are the colleagues who have cared for me, who have supported my struggle, and who have taught me how to laugh and be even naughtier in my humor.

Part of my ever-developing roller coaster, red dirt path, yellow brick road, walk through life, is Johannes. I feel so bold relaying this all here! But he is an important part of my story. There will be more to write, but for now our relationship is developing as though we’ve known each other for years. Truth be known, I’ve known him face-to-face for less than 30 days as he’s been working in Mozambique since we met last May. He returned to Cape Town two weekends ago and I was heartbroken to find he’d be leaving in January to start another job in Kwa-Zulu Natal. He didn’t hesitate for a second to invite me to join him there.

And so, yes, I have agreed. As my time with St. Paul’s represents momentous change, this move will slide in perfectly to the next slot. Johannes is a furniture maker, woodworker, carpenter, and builder… however you name it, he works with wood. He’s been offered a job to build a tented camp on a game farm in KZN near the town Pongola, just south of the border to Swaziland. I remember from my trip to that area with my dad last December how it tasted - green, woody, lush, delicate, hot. At the moment, it’s not 100% solid as we’re awaiting confirmation from his bosses that it will be okay for me to join.

It’s a major risk. Yes, there will be the nice parts, like buffalo grazing on the grass outside the cabin! And having a garden (though I may have to contend with kudu for permission). And being immersed in nature. But a lot of it is about putting my faith forward on a new platform. This past 16 months has been about me, on my own, forging my way through social complexities, building relationships from scratch, developing my working self in the context of chaos. This next segment will be about me risking myself on a more emotional level, putting my trust into something else, not knowing what my plans will be, letting it just fall into place. For those of you who know me, not planning is not a general part of my existence.

As you can see, I’m quite excited, dreaming while gazing at my ceiling. All the exercises of this year have built me up to take this next step. So, we shall see. Regardless, my life will soon be shifting in new directions once again. C’est la vie!

Marco, Polo....

A new day today, a new month, a new home on Polo Road. It's been splendidly sunny in Cape Town the last week, but the wind has been swirling about like nobody's business. I thought I'd escaped it today by moving from Camps Bay to Observatory. Last weekend the wind was so terrible it felt like the whole block of flats was about to fly off towards the land of Oz.

My new neighborhood is very colorful, literally and figuratively. To many peoples' shagrin, it is a bit of dodgey area, though I reckon it's not so different from Logan Square (where I lived in Chicago) in comparison to other neighborhoods here. There are a lot of homeless people about, but the exciting part to me is that is a very mixed area. Economically, racially, and culturally I think the whole spectrum of South Africa is present. It really is quite magical after having spent so much time in affluent areas too exclusive to invite a mixture of people. I'm sure the longer I spend here, the more I will have to say.

I finished my Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) course on Friday and begin back at St. Paul's on Tuesday. I will have exactly 5 weeks left to teach when I return, though I suspect the bulk of my time will be directed towards the library. There have been an incredible amount of new monetary donations - including about $800 (some from China, some from Mt. Holly) - and used book donations from local Cape Townians. So there will be a lot of purchasing taking place and a lot of book prep in this last month, which is very exciting!

Yesterday, with a sore neck, I decided to pre-emptively spend some birthday money on a shiatsu massage, by a local therapist who many had recommended. It was one of the more emotionally intense experiences of my life as he actually "channelled" my energy. He was talking to me the entire time I received the massage and he tapped into many things about me that I never mentioned. It was almost like he was inside my head and halfway through the massage I couldn't help but let tears stream from my eyes. He challenged me so thoroughly it was as though he'd held a mirror to every criticism I already hold of myself. He worked on my lower back where I hold a lot of memory tension and still today I am sore. Even he found it to be remarkable that he had received so much information about me. I think it actually marks ground I need to focus on and in light of that I am glad I had the whole of today to "unpack" my bags. It's time I stopped living out of a suitcase.

just a moment

Sigh. Please forgive me, but I need you to give me just a moment to indulge myself


to say

I'm homesick!

Thirteen months and two days in, it's true. So I would like to take this space to share a little slice of my yellowbrick road, of sorts [please don't mind that it's actually an image of shorn earth, due to an airport expansion project; it's the red dirt I'm most concerned with!]. Missing you, each and every one!

Mountains Heave

Driving to the Little Karoo Friday, I partook in an incredible light show through my backseat window. At dusk, the incredibly clear layers of clouds hovering above the Du Toitskloof Mountains were astounding. Translucent blue overhead and creamy white patching over the electric vermillion clouds gleaming from behind. All the while, masses of mountain flesh looming up from the stretch of road, heaving, pulsing, writhing to the flashes of sunset light….okay, I’ll stop. Getting a little bit frantic there with my description. But to say the least, mind-blowing.

Moving out of Margie's flat has set me up with a new kind of stability - the sort where uncertainty is certain. Not meaning to sound so profound about it, that is actually how my reality stands right now.

I've had a few terrific weeks, "settling" into this new, more uncertain life of mine where magnificent Swedes sweep in for the weekend; where I get to join in family dinners (Adrian & roommate Sophia being the family); where I've woken up to 4 different views over the course of 20 days; where I have absolutely no smidgen of routine; to where I am trying to relax, as much as possible into this new way of being. It's kind of like yin yoga, where one must relax their muscles and let gravity do the rest to engage the deep connective tissues throughout the rest of the body.

In this time, I've encountered quite a few changes, so let's not put it entirely to falling off a bed onto a couch! My little Daihatsu Cuore of 1998 is giving way to the pressures of time. The clutch positively died before cresting the neck if the mountain into town - thus leaving me with a costly repair! Only 3 days later the car puttered and puffed and eventually stalled while enroute to the airport. It was a windy night and I could feel the car being battered by the wind, all the while stressing about my unfavorable perch on the dangerous N2, a stretch of road one does not want to be found on at night all alone. My epidermis responded with an almost immediate flush of bubbly eczema all over my neck, my body’s stress barometer giving me a fine rash of itch!




















And so it happens that night I was enroute to fetch my father from the airport, yet another but very positive (finally!) change. Dad came to visit for 8 days and left on Thursday for Beijing. We had a very nice time together and it felt so nice to have a visitor come rescue me from myself during a somewhat stressful spell. It was extra special to have Dad in Cape Town & to facilitate different dinners and groupings with the family. After all, without me here, it would probably be very unlikely for Dad to see all my various cousins again. It was nice to be a bridge and to see Dad connect across bloodlines.

Over the one weekend Dad was here for, we traveled to Paternoster, a beautiful little fishing village up the west coast. We dined (opulently) at the local restaurant Die Strandloper, a Khoisan term used to descibe nomads who hunted their food via fishing on the beach. Their particular beach-nomadship gave way to all sorts of fish and breads cooked on an open fire. In best of style, we ate on the beach ten, no kidding, ten courses consisting mainly of fish and bread. Included was crayfish, engelvis, stompneus, and of course, mussels (aka mossels). On our own time in Paternoster Dad & I also managed to build our very own all-American braai (south african term for barbeque). True to South African form, we took about 3 hours to cook our dinner, finally eating our feast of lamb chops at about 10 pm! Please note the candlelit braai photo, our only way to see while cooking!

During Dad’s time here I was also able to share the library with him. Since school was out on spring break during his time here, we managed several very busy mornings in the peace of the childless school, getting a lot of my backing completed! Also, Dad had some more intimate experiences with meeting the school maintenance staff as we all lunched together during those days.





















Alas! Another major change occurred last weekend when my cousin Georgia and her family of 3 set sail for Australia to embark on new opportunities there. Her family (including baba Rebecca, so often featured in my blog) has been my rock while in Cape Town, providing me with an incredibly important lifeline of connectivity. Their emigration of course comes as great loss, however I’ve been so lucky to have them in my first 9 months here in CT. They've enabled me to settle in so sweetly, abundant in afternoon playtimes with Rebecca and even more abundant with advice - like where to buy art supplies, the best koeksisters in town, helping me to navigate the crazy streets, etc.

On Tuesday, while Dad was still here, I started my TEFL course at the English Centre for Language. So far the learning has been fast-paced, days filled with micro-teaching to our small class of 4, observing foreigners in their English classes and speed-dialing through the grammar learned in years way past. But it’s been great and is giving me a taste for better teaching methods and ways to prepare, things I’ve had to teach myself and that I’ve felt could easily be improved upon! It’s a good step in the right direction, although I have had to let go of my baby the “library” and my students for a whole month!



So now, with Georgia, Mike & Rebecca gone and my Dad’s visit over, I am spending a weekend away with Georgia’s father and his wife, Keith and Christina, on their small farm 3 hours drive from CT. It’s located closest to the town of Montagu, at the edge of semi desert in an area called die klein karoo (or the little karoo). Low lying mountains surrounds, mating calls of birds abundantly abounding, 2 little froggies deep swimming in the spring-fed pool, I am enjoying a stupendendously sunny day, reflecting, easing out, soaking up some strong solar energy. It’s weekends like this where it feels like all will come right.