The Great Davis Trek Part 3: Killing Kruger

Over the last weekend, our last big stop was Kruger Park. I've written about Kruger here before, but I must say we had a lot more luck this time than I did the last time I was there. It was a bit different this time because my parents and I stayed inside the park gates instead of entering the park each morning and staying outside. It made a great deal of difference when it comes to driving around and seeing animals! We also came to a very important conclusion: The Davis' on their own do much better finding animals than by taking organized tours run by the park! The days that we drove around on our own we saw all of the Big Five: elephants, rhinos, buffalo, lions AND leopards... two leopards to be exact! Practically unheard of! So, finally, I saw some felines in Kruger. Nice to know that not all of the animals in the park are herbivores. A few hints when you are in Kruger looking for cats: Number 1, start EARLY! While my parents might have grumbled about being a slave driver by getting them up at four in the morning, we got in 13 hours of animal viewing each day that rewarded us with seven lions and two leopards. They aren't complaining so much now. Number 2: you don't have to look for cats yourself; the best strategy is to look for 2 things, a big pile-up of cars and vultures. The first time we saw a leopard, he was busy eating something he had recently caught in a tree. We would have never seen him if there wasn't about thirty cars parked all around him. The second leopard (absolutely massive cat) it was the same thing: about twenty cars surrounding him, but also added to the mix about thirty vultures hovering around, waiting for the cat to let his guard down so that they could get to his dinner. The strategy obviouly works!

Well, last time I wrote about Kruger I wrote about the elephants and the bastard monkey that stole my sandwich. Both are still there, and I'm certain the monkeys all remembered me and were smirking the entire time I was there. Despite the monkeys, though, Kruger is still quite a nice place to visit, and I discovered this time the joys of organized tours. Our first tour was a walking trip through the park. My idea, and my parents were nice enough to endulge me. For three hours in the morning, two trained and armed (was a bit worrisome when both of them began loading up their rifles, I wondered what I had gotten us into) guides lead us on walking trails. So, we spent abut three hours on foot in the park, a nice treat because normally the park has extremely strict rules about not getting out of vehicles (makes perfect sense, also, considering all the lions, leopards, elephants and other big things walking around that could quite easily kill or maim someone). While we did not see any big game on the tail (I was not really expecting to) I really enjoyed the walk, because it gave me a feel of what Kruger beyond the roads is like. It doesn't look it, but it is dense. There is so much to the park beyond the animals, and our guides gave us a sense of the plants, birds and even insects in Kruger.
The second tour, the night drive we went on was not exactly all I was hoping for. Of course, you always win some and lose some on drives like this, it always ends up luck. Also, the drive was the day after we saw all of the Big Five, so I believe I would have been hard to please anyway. I think I might have enjoyed the drive more if we did not have all the damn birders with us. Now, I have nothing against birders. One of my good friends is a birder. But, on a tour where one of the highlights is being able to see lions, leopards, hyena, jakals and wild dogs because they are all nocturnal, people who scream for every single feathered creature are not appreciated. There were these three REALLY annoying boys sitting in the front of the vehicle, and stopped us for every bird. And I mean every bird! Before long they had resorted my father and me to making rather sarcastic comments- it was pretty good that the noise meant no one else could hear us: I get my warped sense of humor and my sarcasm from my dad, and the two of us together can be pretty harsh. I don't think that anyone else would have appreciated us; including my mother. So one billion birds, a few elephants and the back of a lion's tail later, Dad and I came to the conclusion that organized tours are highly unnecessary. It's always the luck of the draws to see anything in Kruger.

The Great Davis Trek Part 2: Flitting Along the Coast

Our visit in Cape Town was the time when we were the most stationery in the entire two weeks my parents visited. Once we left the city, we never spent more than one night in the same place (until we reached Kruger) and we began driving.... A LOT! The plan was to drive along the coast all the way from Cape Town to my village, near the border to Mozambique. Those of you scrambling for a map right now, and even those of you who are not I will make it very simple to you: it is a LONG way. But, to avoid the monotony of everyday car life (although some parts were rather exciting, like driving on the right side of the road into on-coming traffic, and thinking that you are about to die) the plan was to see something exciting every day. While I vaguely knew of our plan beforehand, I did not know how intense our schedule was until my mom got off the plane and handed me a copy... at which point my jaw dropped and I wondered how we would survive. But, somehow survive we did!

Leaving Cape Town, we hugged the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, stopping briefly in the wine country for lovely cheese and wine (I take my parents' word for it- I don't drink, so stopping there was more for their benefit than mine) before staying in Hermanus. Hermanus is a famous place because of its whales. Every September, humpback and other whales migrate to Hermanus' bay from Antarctica to breed and give birth to their calves. And every September, the whale populate in the bay (which really isn't that large) increases to as many as 180, all hanging out just off shore. That fact alone makes Hermanus a whale-watching paradise, because one can just watch the whales frolicking while standing on the shore. By the time we reached Hermanus, most of the whales had started back on their trip to Antarctica, but we were rewarded with the sight of a cow and calf, not 100 meters off shore, as they apparently decided to head back a little bit later.

After Hermanus, we rounded the Cape (the real one) and followed the Garden Route. And we started the route with a bang, considering we took back roads to get there and ended up at a place where the road was split in the middle by a river. We were about to head back when we noticed the ferry: the last human-pulled ferry in South Africa. That was absolutely amazing- two men literally pulled our car across the river using nothing but the power of their muscles. THAT was a remarkable experience. Now, the Garden Route is supposedly one of the nicer areas in South Africa, but I am afraid I was not too impressed with it. Other than Tsitsikamma National Park I found it a bit boring. Sure it was pretty, but there wasn't anything there that was really INTERESTING or caught my fancy. Then again, I think I might be hard to please. Of course, we could have managed to skip over the interesting areas of the Garden Route, but ah well. You win some, you lose some. After the Garden Route, we headed into Transkei- the Wild Coast and cultural heartland of the Xhosa people. Now this was probably the most gorgeous landscape of the entire trip. The Transkei is without a doubt picturesque. It is made up of rolling mountains with tiny villages spread out throughout the entire thing. It is very much rural, and very peaceful with its traditional rondavels and farmland, with cows, goats and sheep having free range (don't think my parents liked that so much, especially when they would graze very close to the road). I think what touched me so much about the Wild Coast was the simplicity and peace it radiated- two things that I love about my village so much. It just seemed to have such a slow-paced and quiet existence; exactly the kind of life I have grown used to here.

After leaving the Wild Coast we headed into KwaZulu-Natal, homeland of the Zulus. We decided to get off the beaten trace, and have a cultural experience, and thus ended up in "Shakaland," a museum of sorts with a traditional Zulu village. In Shakaland we enjoyed poking around the bee-hive huts and seeing a replica of the village, and we also got an excellent show of traditional dancing and singing. It was nice to get away from the tourist crowds and enjoy watching the show. Durban was our final big city we visited. Nothing too special about it, except for the beach! Apparently Durban has some of the nicest beaches in the world, and I am pleased to say that I have now swum in the Indian Ocean! That makes three oceans down- the Atlantic, Pacific, and the Indian- and only one more to go! But, to be honest, I do not have much desire to get hypothermia by swimming in the Arctic. Our final stop along the coast before we headed in-land was St. Lucia, north of Durban and rather close to the southern border of Mozambique. The St. Lucia wet-lands are pretty famous- a World Heritage Site and general tourist trap. Nevertheless, they were pretty cool. The wetlands themselves house a great number of water birds, and also a great number of hippos and crocodiles. While on a boat tour of the wetlands, we viewed a crocodile- huge monster of a thing!- that was 138 years old. I'm not sure I'd want to live that long, especially if all I could do all day was swim, fish, and sun myself. Not very exciting, if you ask me. The hippos were pretty cool also. I had never been so close to a hippo before, and those things are really MASSIVE! No wonder they are the leading cause of human deaths by animals in the world. Eish!

Well, our trip from one side of the country to the either via the coast was intense, if fun. It is amazing to me that I have lived here a year, but in the two weeks my parents were in South Africa they saw as much of the country as I now have. Now my only task is to go back to some of these places to actually see them in depth, not just the surface.

The Great Davis Trek Part 1: Dragging the Parents Up Table Mountain

Well, it's been awhile since I updated, and many apologies for that, but it's all because about three weeks ago, my parents showed up in my little nook of the world for a Davis family crash course in seeing as much of South Africa as we possibly could in two weeks. I have currently been recovering from this "vacation" for the past four days. It was absolutely exhausting, but also incredibly fun. And, as far as family vacations go, this one was probably the most positive one I've had with my parents in years. There was none of the screaming, crying, eye-gouging or temper-tantrums that one normally associates with such a long family vacation, so that alone equals, in my opinion, a pretty successful holiday. Considering I'm still on speaking terms with both my mom and dad also adds to the success of this trip. But, enough musings from me about how well (to all of our surprise) our vacation went, and now onto what we saw and did!
Our first stop on our Great Trek was Cape Town. After traveling for 48 hours to reach Jo-burg, I met the parental units at the airport and we all caught a flight to Cape Town, arriving in the early evening. I had my first real taste of sheer terror playing navigator in the front seat of the carwhile my poor, tired, jet-lagged father got to drive on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road. I am still amazed that we are all alive- and our car survived in tact. Unfortunately, the very first day in Cape Town was nothing but rain-very cold rain, might I add. I must admit I was a little embarassed: for weeks I had been instructing my parents to only bring the lightest clothing with them (South Africa is HOT in the summer) and then here we are in Cape Town all shivering in our jackets and sweat shirts. Eish. Anyway, despite the rain, Cape Town is a beautiful city. The city itself is stuck between the the ocean on one side and the mountains on the other, and towering over it is the impressive visage of Table Mountain (or Table Rock, as my dad continually and mistakenly called it). We spent our days in Cape Town exploring the city center and water front, checking out the Cape Town Castle, driving down to the Cape of Good Hope, and finally, climbing Table Mountain.

The most interesting of the activities that we participated in while visiting Cape Town was probably (for me at least) visiting the Cape of Good Hope and climbing Table Mountain. The rain had blissfully stopped for those days, and so we had excellent visibility and spectacular views. The Cape of Good Hope (although I wanted to see it as well) was really a trip for my dad. As a sailor, he insisted that he could not leave South Africa without seeing the most famous navigational point in the world- where the Atlantic and Indian Ocean meet. Interestingly enough, the Cape of Good Hope is not actually where the two oceans meet- that's further south at Cape Agulhas (but shhh, don't tell anyone: it's a secret!) but somehow the Cape of Good Hope has maintained its status as the mythological southern most point of Africa, and thus claims much more attention than Cape Agulhas. We climbed all over the cape, saw the African penguins (cute little guys-go figure, tropical penguins) and in a state of excitement, my dad pulled out his Maryland Yacht Club flag, and had me take pictures of him holding it, grinning broadly, at Cape Point, so that he could prove that the Maryland Yacht Club rounded the cape (it makes no difference whatsoever that it was in a car and not a boat!). I pretended not to know him until we left.

Our last full day in Cape Town dawned clear and bright, so we decided to tackle Table Mountain. Much to my parents' chagrin, I insisted that we wuld not take the short-cut up the mountain via the cable cars (those are for lazy people! Davis' are not lazy!) but instead take one of the hiking trails. I am so glad that we did- and I think that my parents are finally ready to admit that they are glas also- for while the hike was difficult, it offerered wonderful views of Cape Town. So, we plodded up the two-mile trail (really not that far, but some areas it was literally vertical) and I ended up dragging the parents along behind me. For not having hiked for so long, they did surprisingly well- not even really complaining when I momentarily forgot I was carrying all the water and skipped a good half hour ahead- but I figured out my mom's trick. My mother is a horticulturalist, and so Table Mountain, with its Fynbos (the only place in the entire world where certain plants thrive) was her dream, and she stopped every few minutes to take pictures (she probably took about 400 pictures on the trip, and I'm certain about 300 of them are of plants). But taking pictures was only a ploy- it was really to give her a breather without telling the rest of us she was tired. Very sneaky, Mom. We did finally make it to the top, and the view was well worth the hike.

While Cape Town is a beautiful city and I did enjoy my time there, I am afraid that I have mixed feelings about it. I'll freely admit that it was not my favorite place we visited, only because I spent my entire time there trying to figure the city out. Cape Town was settled in the 17th century by the Dutch and in the past three hundred years developed into a very European, very white community. It has remained such to this day. When I got off the plane at the airport I was shocked, because I did not feel like I was in Africa anymore, but in Europe. The entire city had an incredible European feel that confused me completely. I am used to the third-world/first-world divide that South Africa unfortunately has, but Cape Town is excessive in this regard and just weirded me out. Where was I? I am still trying to figure out just what my feelings of the city are. Despite my conflicted feelings, Cape Town IS a lovely place. It has its own charm and its own history that makes it unique, and I think, despite what I feel about it, I will have to re-visit it at some point in the next year.

Teenagers are Teenagers... Everywhere

I have just discovered something that transcends culture lines. That is the dreaded disease of teenage-ism. I was quite happy to leave my teen years behind, even if it did mean I am becoming very old. But being a teenager is so ick! Mood-swings, teenage-angst, high school (suppress shudder). Not something that I would like to go through again. But, when I moved in with my host family, that meant a slight return to my teenage years in the forms of my two host sisters, Lerato-18, and Lethabo-14. Now, I love these girls to pieces, but there are some times where I can quite cheerfully gag them! But they have taught me something very important: teenagers suffer from teenage-ism no matter where they live on the globe!

Let's start with the noise. I was a pretty quiet teenager (in my opinion). I didn't play loud music at all hours of the day and night, I didn't talk on the phone too loudly, and while I did partake in the classic yelling at the parents, for the most part I was quiet. But I think that might make me an odd-ball in the world of teenagers. Lerato and Lethabo are in no possible way quiet. As soon as they wake up in the morning to the time they go to bed, if they are in the house then there is no peace and quiet. There is constant yelling (and not even arguments- often one is in the kitchen and the other is in the den, and they hold a yelling conversation), singing, and freakishly loud music. The music is what sometimes gets to me. Unfortunately, our house has very good acoustics. I can hear everything that is going on, even if I am at the opposite end of the house. Of course, I could hear the music anyway; it's cranked up to the highest possible volume. The times that the house is quiet and the girls are home, I wonder if they aren't feeling well- it is a novelty.

And then there are boys. I remember the first bonding session I had with Lerato was talking about boys. She was telling me about the cute boys in her grade and about her current boyfriend, and then she spent a good twenty minutes looking at my photo album and gushing over the pictures of my guy friends. While Lethabo has not gotten into a boy-crazy stage yet, I expect it is not too far away. One day about two months ago I was visiting a private school to set up a teacher exchange with one of my village schools, and I got a ride back to my house with one of their workers. The worker was a really nice guy from Australia working at the school while taking a year off between high school and university. He needed to use the toilet, so I let him into the family compound and after he was through we chatted for a moment in front of my house. Suddenly the door bursts open, and out comes Lerato and Lethabo, both smiling broadly. Completely ignoring me, they both turned their attention to Justin and definitely turned on the charm as they proceeded to engage him in conversation. I just stood there with my mouth open. Neither one of my host sisters are shy, but it did take them about two days to initiate conversations with ME when I first moved in. And there my little sisters were, flirting with the guy they met a moment earlier. I would have laughed, but I did not want to embarass them.

Finally there is the phone. I remember in high school how some evenings I would spend hours on the phone talking with my friends. Luckily calling people is cheap in the US. It is not so cheap here, but that does not stop my host sisters! Around August, my host mother decided to put in a land line to our home. Before we were using only cell phones, but making calls is super expensive on cell phones, so my host mother decided to try to cut back on costs by putting in a land line. Lerato and Lethabo were excited as well, as they no longer had to rely on buying airtime to call their friends. (I still rely on my cell. The trick is to only make calls in an emergency. Text messages are really the way to go!). Well, just two days ago, it finally hit me how alike teenagers are, despite growing up in different cultures. I had entered the room to speak with my host mother and noticed her looking pretty upset. Then I noticed what was in her hands: the phone bill.

"Brittany! Look at this!" she cried, putting the bill in my hands. "The girls spent 1,500 rand on the phone!" At that, my mouth dropped open. R1,500 is almost as much as I receive from Peace Corps per month! It is roughly about $200, but in South Africa, that is A LOT of money. I was pretty much shocked, and I agreed with my host mother. She had a right to be angry! Eish! Then I looked over at Lethabo, who was listening in on our conversation. She had the exact same contrite, sheepish look on her face that I know I had on mine whenever I did something stupid as a teen. Well, at that point I realized that there are somethings that transcend the culture line- classic teenaged behavior is one of them.