Things I miss:
-Washing machines. I have been doing laundry by hand, and although it is fine for little things, (like shirts, and items smaller than that) I dread the day I have to do my bedsheets.
-Ethnic food. I hope I remember how to use chopsticks when I return! I should have brought some with me. (Eh, who am I kidding? Thanks, basal ganglia) I hear that there is a great Indian restaurant quite a few km away though. Indian folks are the most pervasive type of “Asian” there is in this country, and more along the coastal cities like Durban. I am currently reading my newest find from the library, by Farida Karodia, and my eye was caught by the term “Asian in South Africa. Turns out, she meant a south Asian family. Hm! Either way, I’m jonesin’ for some saag paneer.
-a shower that works. Our system at the house is basically taking a hose that has two ends for each spout, hot and cold, mixing them and combining them into one stream. Works pretty well until one end slips off (usually the hot) and is a pain to affix back on. TIA, I suppose.
-tango. Tango tango tango tango. I’m listening to some Alfredo De Angelis, and am missing the delicious valses, and have only memories of dream like volcadas.
Curiouser and curiouser!
Something I wanted to mention: In the airports of both Accra and Johannesburg I saw booths which provided the service of shrink-wrapping your bag. I had never seen such a thing, and wasn’t quite sure why someone would want to saran- up their luggage: it’d be a huge pain to undo. Then, after seeing more than a few signs warning about being an unwitting drug trafficker, (because people would slip cocaine into your bag when you weren’t looking, of course), I realized the reason was not to keep your luggage from getting wet. Of course it could also be to protect it from opening, or being opened, but I think my explanation is more Hollywood-movie.
Here in South Africathere ain’t no such thing as “unlimited” plans for cell phones or internet. Or at least, I sure am not privy to them. You pay for air time/texts and/or megabytes of information exchanged on the interweb. A bit of a pain, but also keeps certain people (or a certain person you might know well)from spending inordinate amounts of time blabbering away, or watching Youtube videos of Rosemary Clooney sing “Botch-a-me”. Over. And over.
South African lesson: After a haircut and getting some fringe I strapped on my takkies and walked to my buckie (bakkie?)to drive over to the forest for foofysliding.
In order: bangs, tennis shoes, truck, ziplining. Although I have to say that I find the accent quite charming.It’s something ineffably pleasant to me.
Drove the 10km home today for the first time! Stick shift, and South African style. No sweat. Actually who am I kidding. I was sweating bullets. The car didn’t stall, but I was pretty darned nervous the whole time. It’ll take a bit more practice before I can drive the crazy ass 9 seater Sesfikile to sites, but little by little!
It might be the case that I get to sing in a benefit concert for the Bjatladi Youth Center here in Haenertsburg! I haven’t sung in a capacity where people paid to hear it in years, but I’d be thrilled to. More of that later.