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Africa The journal My First Day
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Journaling has been fun and therapeutic. These are journals that I sent while in Africa with my impressions and reactions to what I experienced. I hope you enjoy them.
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My first day at school back home today a little early. The school was having two hours of staff meetings and I just couldn’t bear it. My host asked, “Are you feeling some jet lag?” It took me 0.332 seconds to hear the message… “do you want to sit through 2 hours of staff meetings”. Jet lag has set in. Feigning exhaustion she drove me home where I did in fact collapse. Crime is somewhat of an issue here so after being dropped off I took out my bundle of keys, unlocked the garden wall gate- two locks. To the front door where I unlocked the iron fence door, then to the front door with and additional two locks. After opening the door I have 30 seconds to disarm the alarm and pet the German Sheppard. Ah, I felt safe. It’s about 85 or so here with a Michigan humidity. So today it feels like a normal Michigan summer day. Last week I understand it hit 40 centigrade or about 108! I like this a little better. The house is very nice. There is a large living area and I have my own room with a private bath - which I did not expect. Meals are provided and the land lady is very pleasant and very willing to take me wherever I want to go. The water is safe to drink, the food is good and this house looks like any of our middle class homes -accessorized with the latest in motion detectors and a zone security system. That said, the Jacuzzi, pool table and big TV add a nice touchJ. There are no lions here, no dusty dirt roads, no, baboons, no men with pointed spears. This is a first world suburb in a first world city. The townships are where the poor are. I can only imagine right now as I have not been there yet. But I have been to the edge of them and it looks horrendous. I learned a new term today from Claudia one of the social workers. The term backyard dwellers refers to those families who live in shacks behind the larger shacks (homes) and cannot afford nicer things like doors and windows… This is where the kids come from. This is the third world living right next door to the first world. Where the worlds rub against each other you have crime. Crime born of poverty yes, but also born of drugs, gang violence, the legacy of apartide, and generational life style. Imagine our poor only far worse poverty. Potatoes are very expensive here. So what does this lily white skinned boy from Michigan want to do first? Drive in an air conditioned car to the beach of course. Sunday we went to Fishhook bay. Great sand, almost as nice as ours. The waves were coming in off the Indian ocean with white foaming tops. A wind blew 20 K stirring up the water making it difficult for the shark spotters. Oh yes, that would be something |
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we don’t have in lake Michigan. You may have heard of this beach. Last Tuesday a man was eaten by a shark. Chopped in half and dragged out to sea. Since then swimming in the bay has been ‘a little dodgy’ as they say here. Well of course I HAD to swim in the Indian ocean, I mean I had come all this way… and that was last week sometime… and sharks don’t like Americans anyway do they? So I went to the changing room and just as I was putting on my suite I heard this very loud siren. Too loud for the police… it wasn’t moving so not an ambulance… it could only be one other thing. Sure enough when I came out of the dressing there wasn’t a living Soul in the water. The warning flag changed from ‘black’ to white [with a blue shark on it] and there was a lot of chatter about seeing a shadow here… there… now here again… We were all very excited… there were lots of laughs about me and my day at the beach. After 30 minutes or so people started to edge back in to the water and well, you know me. As Norm my good friend said, “Very brave… and no common sense what so ever”. I just had to get wet. So I dived into the cold water of the Indian Ocean. Coming up covered in salt and sand and a smile that was as big as half way around the world… |
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