Increasing wildlife knowledge courtesy of Master Leanord.

Early risers. Off to the border crossing, what a scandal that is, not for us but for the truckers that wait weeks for the two ferries to cart them across the river. Lines of trucks formed miniature communities of people- stoves burning, chairs popped up- perhaps the first trailer park? I don’t mean that negatively, the community was unassuming and raw. My heart goes out to those weary drivers waiting for a boat to cross them over. Ever think of building a bridge? Hmmm, a brief insight into the politics and stalemates marking Africa’s infrastructure.

Being up close and personal with nature in the Chobe National Park impacted me inCross the border was a safari vehicle, Leanord, and what turned out to be an astonishing interaction with natural beauty. Our camping safari consisted of 3 days and 2 evening. Camping out in the bush at a luxiourious camp, set-up for you upon arrival, complete with think mattress-like mats, pillows, comforters, a cook, wine, marshmellows, a shower, a bathroom- pure convenience. To complete the safari package, 2 river cruises, and 4 safari drives.

Our first day we spotted hippos, baboons, spider monkeys, water monitor lizards, a slew of birds and insects, crocodiles, elephants, giraffe, lions (male, female, juvenile), cubs, cape buffalo, impala, kudu, etc. the list goes on and on and there is no way that I could ever recount bit by bit the moments of this trip. What I can say is that I saw much more than I ever expected- see pictures below.Being up close and personal with nature in Chobe National Park impacted me in multiple ways…you see the lion king and you visit the zoo, but you never imagine that animals mingle, co-exist, and never-ever look themselves in the mirror. To not know what you look like, can you imagine? Most likely there is a certain freedom found within this ignorance.

We were in a group with a couple from Sweden, a young girl from Holland, and our guide, shall we call him, Master Leanord. Master Leanord was, is, and will always be a bush baby, a true believer and master of the African bush, especially Chobe. He knew the prides of lions by look and feel, understood the personalities and dynamic of each miniature ecosystem and character roving through the terrain. He would narrate the activities of the animals with such ease, as if he had written a script for the animals and they were just following cues. He had the eyes of a hawk or a lion or whatever animal he was looking for and it was obvious that observing years of animal movements and interactions had left him with a fantastic wealth of knowledge.

Did you know that elephant trunks have 4,500 muscles and that most elephants are either right or left trunk dominant? Did you know that a black and white saber can somehow magically disappear into the green and yellow stripped reeds? Did you know that the black tufts on the back of an impala’s heels give off a scent that allows the herd to relocate each other after being separated? Did you know…that is the epitome of Master Leanord.

The elephants and a honey badger visited us, separately, on the two nights that we were in camp. A true proximity. The safari of a lifetime.

Blast from the Past: Days in LSK

After a brief hiatus I am back. I apologize for the static as you have all been waiting for an update- some indication that I am still conducting myself in a respectable manner. Well I am pleased to say, I have been…here’s what has been up- or I guess for all you readers down, if we consider the geography of it all.

About 2 weeks ago my parents arrived from New Mexico- land of the green and red chile!!! A much anticipated visit they walked through the gate and my worlds collided in smiles, hugs, luggage, and stares. Welcoming them to Africa, to Zambia, to my life, to my job, and to traveling on the left side of the road was an ambush of language (Nyanja), customs (women’s day and chitenge), and many muzungu (white people) mouths to feed (nshima).

Our plan: 2 weeks of days in Lusaka, a trip to one of the 7 Wonders of the Natural World, safari, and ENCHILADAS.

Can you tell that I was really excited about the food?! I have to say 7 months sin green chile was almost unbearable. But I survived and now I’ve had a my fix for the next 7 months.

Upon arriving we checked my parents into the 252 B Twin Palm Intern House, introduced them to the majority of the office and ate. What did we eat? Chicken wings. The following day was spend shopping at the Tuesday vegetable market- full of color and chaos, shopping at the cultural village for symbols of time spent in Zambia. Bartering and bantering filled the morning. March 8^th is International Women’s Day and a day off in Zambia. GRS decided to have a women’s group/coaches training event at a farm outside of Lusaka. We headed out there in the afternoon, to introduce my parents to the realities of my life: dancing, chitenge, nshima, heat, and a whole lot of talking.

Perhaps a bit of an overwhelming experience, my parents met the peer educators that I work with, my colleagues, and the women’s group that supplements and assists the GRS curriculum. It was a stunning day. Hot, sunny, and an initiation into who the members of GRS are, lots of faces.

In order to introduce my parents to all the faces in my life, we held a braii (aka bbq) for our parents. Max’s, my housemate, parents were here at the same time. Parent’s weekend!! Lots of food, drink, music, and conversations peppered the night and seasoned it with a family feel…

Next morning it was off to the bus station, onto the bus, and 5 hours down south to Livingstone. After a luxurious lunch we headed to the falls- or should I say the storm…literally smoke and mist thundering away. Seeing the “smoke” as we approached the falls and hearing it as we walked along the path…photos can testify to the shear volume of water but only memories will suffice for the sentiment of being pounded by water, soaked to the bone, having to scream to be heard, and a slight reversion back to a child playing in the rain.

Drinks and dinner at the Royal Livingstone that evening left us pampered, satisfied, and sleepy. In prime shape for Botswana and the adventures to come.

Today.

A day of driving, running, spacing out, and all together a typical day in the life of a GRS intern. It needed to be documented. Places to see and people to meet. Nothing sensational but rarely an experience paralleled.

I awoke to the horrific sound of cat’s attacking each other in our living room. There is this notorious black and white cat, with insanely freaky blue eyes, that frequents our house. More appropriately he frequents our pantry and torments our cat. The sound is one of death and at 3 or 4 in the morning my brain is in no state to process nor function. Anyway…I darted to the living room smacked the table and the problem was solved.

So I have this routine of waking up and making coffee. We have a French press and it is the first thing I do every morning. Make coffee, feed dog, walk to 10 feet to the office.

Since the new year my position has placed me “out in the field.” I love saying this because it makes me feel like I am really bush-whacking it and like I am doing something important. Not that what I do isn’t important, all I am suggesting is the power of language and phrasing to mislead (nothing nobody didn’t know already). But what being in the field has done a few things. I now know almost all of our 60+ coaches names, can speak more Nyanja, and I am getting a sick tan. Ha!

Being in the field has taken me to new parts of Lusaka. Compounds where Muzungu’s hardly ever exist. There are days where being the celebrity of the neighborhood lifts my spirits and other days where I feel like I am the freak. Today I felt a satisfying mixture of the two. Venturing to Matero (about a 30-40 minute drive from the office) we visited Nelson Mandela School. A beautiful ground perched atop a hill. Rarely are you able to get some altitude in Lusaka so it is nice to see what is around you. We arrived early to visit our coaches so Hildah (my M&E partner in crime) and I walked down to the market to buy popcorn and ground nuts (peanuts). As we were purchasing popcorn this gentleman beelined right up to me…darting across the market to talk to the crazy lady buying popcorn. He proceeded to walk with us as we went to buy ground nuts and then all of a sudden chaos of criticism bolted at me from all ends. First, women aren’t supposed to buy ground nuts because of all the protein that they have. Only fit for a man, of course, because women don’t need protein cuz we don’t have semen. So that set me ablaze, then I was in shorts and all the mama’s selling their vegetables, ground nuts, etc. got mad at me for not being in chitenge (fabric that everyone wears). It was a strange dichotomy. I wasn’t angry, just exacerbated. I just always find myself asking…”aren’t there bigger problems than what I am wearing and who eats what?” But I think I ask those questions everywhere…not just in Zambia and not just in Matero.

I made it back to the school in one piece and relatively calm. Popcorn in one hand, ground nuts in the other. As we walked through the school towards the classroom of grade 8s who are participating in our curriculum this cycle, I noticed many colorful paintings on the sides of the walls. On e of which was the reproductive system. We can never talk about sex, but we can place the anatomy on the siding of a school. Oh Zambia how I love you!

Introducing myself to the eager eyes of students is always an adventure. I’ve learned basic Nyanja and always practice on the students. This time I was applauded. I felt so proud of myself. I know my accent is terrible and I mess up every time, but the Grade 8s at Nelson Mandela School have eternally worked their ways into my heart for their sincerity and encouragement.

What a day. Up, down, emotionally and physically on the bumpy roads of Lusaka that we drive on and, realistically, survive daily.

I shall attempt to balance myself out, until tomorrow.

Compost and bottle caps, when recycling doesn’t exist- make art:

Trash exists everywhere. One of my first memories is of the smell…burning rubbish smogging the sky and my nasal passages. A week’s worth of burning plastic bags, organic material, paper, food, and all manner of other things was enough to convince me to reduce my waste. However, you find that as you live here longer, the smell is customary, and the sight of trash in astonishing places no longer surprises (as shameful as that is to admit). We are however fortunate. There is a private (that is right, any removal of trash is privatized…a lucrative business I would think but no one has jumped on just yet) rubbish collection service that passes by our wall on Tuesday mornings to remove the trash that we produce.

Recently through a deep-cleaning effort we disposed of years of paperwork, trash, and miscellaneous items with the hopes of starting off the new year in a spirit of tidiness, efficiency, and above all else clarity.

On the other half of the compound…our home, there is trash produced at a rapid rapid rate. Between the 5 of us (lena, mike spiak, marissa, max, and myself) we produce a lot of trash. We all love to cook, be creative with our meals, and often find that our over ambitious spirits lead us to over purchase on vegetables, leaving us with a vast supply of peels, rinds, egg shells, rotten tomatoes, and potatoes sprouting foreign objects. All these factors contributed to the birth of recyclable art and recyclable earth.

Project ideas sprung up. The first to be put into action was the digging of a hole. A hole that is now home to a hot bed (literally all the organic material produces heat as it rots) of compost, insects, and the occasional plastic bag. Turned over once or twice a week the rains and the numerous leaves that fall from the trees overhead consolidate into fertile earth that is making out mango, papaya, and avocado tree smile. Next step is to interwork that compost into a tomato, cabbage, and flower garden.

Project number two began a while ago with a collection of bottle caps. This is an ongoing affair with collection. Bottle caps drunk are cared for and will serve as a memento of the 2010-2011 intern class in Zambia. The idea is to hammer out the bottle caps and screw them into a wood table. They will assemble to form Africa. Mosi caps (the local Zambian brew) will facilitate the construction of ZAMBIA!!!

Project three was a spontaneous exercise in nostalgia. Growing up fall was always the time to seek out the most colorful leaves, place them between 2 pieces of wax paper, and iron them together…natural stained glass. I did much of the same process only I attempted to make shapes, in the form of animals, out of vegetation. A giraffe and an elephant were what transpired, and for a first attempt I am pleased.

Constantly finding amusements to work both sides of the brain and in some respects, the earth.

Food! Obrigada.

Until now I have neglected to entertain one of my favorite topics…food, a subject of which at the very least 45% of my brain power goes towards daily. A main activity and source of energy exertion during my holiday, and life in general, was deciding where to eat, when to eat, and finally, what to eat.

Since the coast was calling my name in every way shape and form it seemed only appropriate to immerse myself in all things seafood, with the daily exception of a cup of coffee. In Durban it was chicken wings the first night…I know this isn’t seafood, but chicken wings are one of my favorite foods and having not had them (being too lazy to make them) it was a welcomed appetizer to the 2 weeks of fish oil overdosing.

Next came the salmon pasta in Durban, kudu bunny chow, prawns on pizza in Coffee Bay, more GIANT prawns in Port St. John’s, smoked salmon pizza, chicken bunny chow, fish market fillet…now this I must explain.

Maputo, Mozambique is known for their fish market; a smelly venue that is lines with crabs, fish in shades of pink and red that range from ruby to translucent, and of course, prawns! We ventured out with our friend, Joel, to the fish market…making our way through the fading stalls we selected our fish and our prawns and set out to find the stand that would fry us up some peri-peri (their version of spicy-spicy) prawns and fish for us. We selected a small venue, coined with its plastic lawn furniture and a powder green paint job we took our seats and passed over our purchase of 3 and a half minutes prior. The dueña of the shop and her helpers struggled to figure out the English instructions we relayed to them. Submitting we figured that they know best. And they did! A feast, fit for more than the 3 of us was brought to our table and aptly devoured.

Mozambique continued to be a quest of eating. Prawns, fish, peri-peri chicken, cashews, mangos…delicious vacation. And finally we revisited our trusty Mugg & Bean (Lusaka is getting one soon, look out!) for some coffee and quiche.

Kilograms gained: who cares?!

I can transdanzzzz better than you (with a little help from Tipo Tinto)

Upon exit from the three-storied Johannesburg airport we ventured to find a bus to Maputo, Mozambique with fortunate success. Arriving in Maputo we ate well (fish markets are a new guilty pleasure), slept, and headed to Tofo. Turn-around time 22 hours. Neglecting sleep, odd hours, and lacking in hygiene we arrived in Tofo, Mozambique-paradise.

After sprinting into the Indian Ocean, soaking up the salt and sand and clear blue water, I took in my surroundings. The curved beach transcended into the saline sea of pure blue and in shoulder deep water I could still make out the details of my feet. As you walk along the sand it squeaks and shade is a coveted luxury. The 10 yard dash from my towel to the ocean was the extent of my exercise for the week and a pure act of survival. By 8:00am the sand was ablaze, radiating heat (now I know how the gentlemen who walk on coals feel).

Tofo is known for its diving, snorkeling, and its adolescent male whale sharks (say that 10 times fast). Before the mad rush of New Years traffic, we booked our spot on the ocean safari. Cruising out to sea on an orange boat we soared and sank with the swells. Safari spotting: dolphins, manta ray, the reef, and one 5 meter whale shark! Snorkeling for the first time in my life, let alone alongside a whale shark with spots like a leopard, the swagger of a gangster, and the personality of chilled out surf bum I was able to coast parallel to his pathway exploring his fins, tale, spots, and overall rhythm of life. Still a skeptic of their docile nature the experience was nothing short of surreal and mesmerizing.

The rest of the days were spent sleeping in, walking to get coffee, reading and writing, sitting in the sun, sipping cocktails, dancing, swimming, starring, and meeting the most eclectic and joyous people alive.

New Year’s Eve is a spectacle in Tofo. The crowds pour in from the surrounding areas and mayhem ensues. I almost got squashed by an ATV about 20 times. Running around the beach, toasting with Tipo Tinto (the mozambiquen rum that runs $1.50), dancing, and admiring and dogging the many fireworks that were lit…all in all a lovely night filled with good friends, stars, and a fresh new year.

Leaving Tofo was a somber moment. Excitement for getting back home mixed with a sadness of leaving the relaxing feeling of vacation colored the exit from Mozambique then to Johannesburg (yes, again) and finally to the Lusaka International Airport. Home.

Is it? Adventures along the Wild Coast of South Africa

This will be the first post in a series of three that attempts to encapsulate my 2 ½ week bonanza around Southern Africa for the 2010 holiday season. Armed with a backpack, bathing suit, map, my travel partner, Maxime, and boundless energy we hit the road, or rather the sky on December 19^th, 2010. Rather than bore you all with a play-by-play itinerary here are a few snapshots of the beauty that is the wild coast of South Africa and the blessing that was my vacation:

Coffee bay, South Africa. Coffee Bay is a backpacker’s haven and with a name like that it definitely put a spring in my step…I was ready to rock n’ roll, naturally this meant hiking. There is a trail that follows the jagged coast from the town of Coffee Bay to a “hole in the wall,” a rock formation that happens upon you as you emerge from an overgrowth of trees. Cliffs and rough seas characterize the landscape of the hike, with the trail appearing and disappearing every so often allowing you to feel as though you are exploring the rolling hills that morph into cliffs and fall into the ocean. In front and behind no one is in sight, until you happen upon a beach. A small stretch of pristine sand with donkeys or cows who have staked their claim to the prime tanning spots long before you even had a moment to think about laying out for the day. Two or three of these beaches intermittently emerge as you come to The Hole. The “hole in the wall” is stunning. The water crashes against the rock and bellows within the open-ended cave (the hole) that it has eroded (did I mention that erosion is the best natural force there is!!!) within a wall of rock that exists about 15 meters out to sea. Appreciating the power that is the sea and the majesty of the natural purity we relaxed in the sun, snapped some photos, and rejoiced in our freedom.

Port St. Johns, South Africa. Where the river meets the sea there is a doodle. As if someone, God presumably, took his brush and decided ok here is where the river running brown ends and the deep ocean blue begins. An aerial view provides a fine brushstroke squiggle of brown and blue that inclines you to imagine what is going on beneath the surface. Port St. Johns is an eclectic mix of brown and blue, resort and rustic, obvious and hidden, prawns and smoothies. A spot filled with health and hours lounging at the beach.

Durban, South Africa. Bunny Chow. Three guesses to tell me what it is…Strike 1, Strike 2, Strike 3- your out, but only because you didn’t get to eat Bunny Chow in the Bunny Chow capital of the world. Durban has the highest population of Indians in the world, therefore they obviously have some of the best Indian Curry in the world. This is exactly what Bunny Chow is, except that it is curry stuffed into half a loaf of bread. Delicious! This was our Christmas Day meal and it was the perfect partner to the rainy day. Post Bunny Chow, the Botanical Gardens seasoned our palates. Colors bursted forth from pots, ponds, and perches…and the orchids, SO many orchids living a happy life. The culture of a garden is always elegant and dainty. You are weary of where you step, careful to appreciate each any every plant. I welcome the active consciousness of the world around you- the tiny oasis amidst concrete and pavement.

For now I will leave you in the Johannesburg airport at the Mugg & Bean on the 2^nd floor. This international airport has weaseled its way into my memory box and will eternally be the place that I spent the night on Christmas Day.