Why, why did I buy a round trip ticket and not a one way? Dumb, dumb. I think I'm sounding like a broken record, but I think I'm in love with Africa. Can I just clone myself and live everywhere?
I know what it was. Fear. I was afraid of traveling Africa alone. Afraid of the men. Afraid of getting around...even though I've read of many American girls who have done it and reported nothing but good things. Guess I'll have to come back to do traveling Africa the right way. :D
We arrived to a beautiful sunset, a simple entry stamp and no forms. We were greeted by overly-helpful taxi drivers, one who helped with luggage and directed us to a pay phone to call our hostel. He helped with money and dialing multiple numbers to no answer, then offeded to drive us for cheap. We thanked him and went to find wifi to contact our ride.
Outside, the vehicles were all driving on the wrong side of the road.
On the drive, there were ragged men at nearly every stop light. Asking for money, holding squeegies, offering to wash your windows. Countless holding up their thumbs asking for rides - we are told that picking up hitchhikers is a very, very bad idea and an invitation to be robbed.
A quick night in a lovely hostel with no people and we were picked up by our safari guide, Stephan. And a whole week with the crazy guy and I still failed to get a picture...
A few hours into our drive we were pulled over. Well...not pulled over. I honestly don't know how the people know to stop. Just because they realize they were speeding when they notice the traffic police?
So the guy comes to the window, they start joking around, asks Stephan to come to his "office" which is the back of his police truck. They take care of business and we are on our way.
And we ask about it Stephan says,
"Welcome to Africa, anything is possible."
And
"Here in Africa, money talks."
Basically, he got out of a couple hundred dollar fine by bribing the officer.
"Can't we work this out another way?" Stephan asked.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Do you smoke?"
The officer said "Yes." Stephan gives officer a cigarette.
"You're gonna have to give me more than that." Stephan reaches in his poccket, pulls out his cash, hands it to him, and goes on his way.
He said never try that with a woman though, you won't get away with it.
As we drove out of the city, it started looking more like...Africa. everywhere in South Africa it is a pretty even mix of European and African looking people. Like the states, SA people hire African immigrants from poorer countries, cheap labor, leaving many natives without jobs. In desperation they do anything for money. Streets are lined with vendors selling fruit and other products, trying to make a living.
The houses are rough tin shacks surrounded by dust and browned trees.The women are wrapped in thin clothes to keep cool, some with baskets on their heads and others with babies strapped to their backs.
Stephan, whose native language and culture is Africaans, says there are 11 official languages. Everyone speaks English, though it is really hard to understand, Africaans, and 9 indiginous languages.
We drive past corn fields, soybean fields with irrigation pipes, and grassy pastures with goats, horses, and cacti. Apart from the red clay ground (that I'm told is actually very fertile), it's not too different than the midwest USA.
We passed a herd of baboons playing in the road, ugly things with adorable babies clinging to their backs. Ryan asks why we don't see any dead on the road, Stephan says they are smart enough to not get hit.
I think for the secondish time in my life I got a bit of culture shock. I just went from every-comfort-possible snowy USA to the sunny desert middle east to middle of NOWHERE Africa with giraffes and thorns on everything and only wifi if you stand in that perfect spot outside behind the dining room and the satelite hits just right.
But I like it.
Country 21. South Africa.
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