natural light and all its colours

I finally saw a lion!

It seems I should change the name of my blog. Although only weeks ago (and I realise I’ll jinx it now) since our last load shed (is that the verb??), it feels long ago; yet everyday I’m grateful I can put on the kettle and cook when I want to – small thrills! In general I feel more grateful here. Or at least I think I am. I’m trying to figure out whether this place or my end-date slowly approaching makes me more grateful or whether I’m just happier here – maybe it’s all three. Yes there are things I miss from home – my friends and family of course, Aldi steak (does that count?), singing along to Phantom of the Opera and Michael Bolton with Wallsy (we won’t ever admit to this if asked), walking to the tram fearlessly in a short skirt and heels at night which of course leads the girls and me to the Carlton Club, the diverse food and restaurants, my gym sessions (yes even that bloody sled!), …ok so the list is rather long… but here I regularly catch myself mid conversation as though watching from afar thinking “how bloody great is my life?!”, “Is this all really happening??” This week I’ve noticed the half way point is coming up and it feels like things are moving into a different space. My weeks are busy here, yes with touristy things but I’m feeling more and more a sense of home.

About two weeks ago I decided I needed to see more of Cape Town and its surrounds. As much as writing is enjoyable, days can go by like watching reality TV, observing not doing. I managed to wangle a space on a Garden Route tour and was last minute invited along to a meetup going to crystal pools. 12 of us hiking the hour with inflatables in our backpacks to reach dark glassy pools framed by rocks, lush green and gentle waterfalls. After some help from an enthusiastic full body action blower-upper my huge elephant round lilo (with headrest) was ready for launch. Paddling, drifting, bronzing, maybe even an on-water arm wrestle and finally some eating with a view from the edge of a plunging fall topped off a smashing day, not to mention the obligatory Savannah cider to recharge the batteries in Camps Bay. biltong and coffee breakfast. Thanks Hugh! The second trip took me out of greater Cape Town for the first time since I’d arrived. As those of you have done tours before would know – there are tours and then there are tours. Europe on Contiki with Caity in 2006 – 19 countries in 21 days (or something like that) although super fun because we were on it (Whoop! “Go Charlie it’s your birthday…”is that not the words??) was well…I’ll just say lots of women with lots of bus time and not much sleep ain’t a good thing. On this tour we sat only to 11th in a mini-van rocking Bokbus (company logo printed) cushions and our guide, Benjamin, full of stories and generosity. We hit the road at 6am to pick up our group – Austrian couple, German guy, American guy, US astronomy students (interesting!). With the initial awkward introductions out the way we drove to Oudtshoorn (cool name right?), in Cango Caves we squished through (Australia would have an OH&S fit) crevices with a guy in Birkis’ shoe falling off and smacking someone in the head, eating marinated ostrich skewers with a complementary Amarula mint shot in our oil lamp lit backpacker paradise. Over the next two days I watched a terrified ostrich have a bag thrown over its head, then throw a guy riding him (as you do) off its back, him narrowly missing a big pile of poop goop (yes the whole thing reminded me of Guantanamo Bay…umm no thanks!), hugged and fed saved orphaned Elephants – shout out to you Sally!- and watched as my comrades one by one plunged to their deaths (jk) via bungee cord (not me this time). The last two days I zipiideee zip lined with my new friend Welcome (Xhosa: Wamkelekile – my new fav word), fought my way through the forest of Tsitsikamma National Park, got my eyes salt-stung by Plettenburg Bay’s delicious Indian Ocean and finally drove into the Garden Route Game Reserve listening to “In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lions…” (I’m not joking! Benjamin aka Mr Cool) to hang out with the Rhinos, Lions, Elephants, Kudu, Giraffes, Buffalo and Wilderbeerst, which (sorry buddy!) we ate for dinner from the buffet sent from heaven.

But it was the little things that made this trip special. From the getgo I bombarded Benjamin with questions – yes I was that person on the tour but everyone else was a bit shy so what was I to do?! I realised talking to him how quickly things are changing here including cultural practices and identity. It may be that in a few generations’ time people like Benjamin won’t exist. I even got a free Zulu lesson “Sawubona” “Kunjani” “Ngiapila” “Gi ow togo” (written how you pronounce with emph underlined) trans: Hello, how are you, I’m well, my name is Thoko (some of you may not know I have a Zulu middle name). Speaking with Benjamin (who btw speaks 6 languages because everybody does (!!)) I felt like I was speaking to Benny Hlongwane (pron Shlonggwani) my dad’s very dear friend who gave us a personal Soweto tour in June. Both speak in the African accent my former housemate Firdi used to impersonate so well through stretched energetic lips. This draws attention to their white toothy grins that contrast against their black-brown skin (Benjamin says if you take a photo in the wrong light all you’ll see is teeth :)). Amongst the historical and geographical knowledge he imparted, Benjamin tells me about his two boys both studying and his smile widens with modest pride. He also tells me about when he was ambushed in his hotel room and had to knock on his tour group members’ door to get help after battling out of his restraints (he cracks up when he tells about their reaction to a black guy in his underwear knocking on the door at 3am). He tells me about the new car he bought that lasted only 3 hours in his mate’s locked up area (insurance hadn’t been sorted yet – ouch!). What strikes me is how he laughs – a contagious full faced “ha hehehe” – even when telling the saddest stories, a way of coping I think that comes with wisdom and acceptance that some things are out of our control and if you can’t laugh about it you might just cry.

Towards the end of the trip Benjamin tells me about where he’s come from – his life and upbringing in Soweto- and how he had worked during the day and studied by correspondence at night to get to where he is now. He thinks children today don’t make the most of opportunities they have and he’s sad about the drug and alcohol problems. As if on cue we stop at the lights in Oudtshoorn to a gathering of street kids. One in particular I notice probably about 8 years old leans down towards his faded zip hoodie shutting his eyes to breathe in deeply the fumes in the milk carton hidden inside before putting the clown mask of cheeriness back on to beg for more money. A man in child’s body..glazed eyes moving in and out of focus, a creepy salaciousness to his leering, and yet the sweetest baby face. It gives you shivers. What hope do these kids have?

There are times on trips when you feel that thrill, a flooding of gratitude and awe. Yes we did lots of great things but for me this moment came when driving through the Klein Karoo mountain range listening to Benajmin’s deep, resonant, harmonic zulu tribal song CD watching hitchhikers, thunderous mountains, cows and the red-orange-cream dirt against the green to brown shrubbery go by. I could identify with my mum the night she was in the bukkie (ute) in the middle of nowhere with dad asleep beside her listening to the drums coming closer thinking “This is Africa!” (though I was in less danger of being eaten). We are zulu warriors! Benjamin our guide Sally Zip lining I’m climbing (can’t you tell??)