Life with the Lions.

Well, I am actually back home now and have been for about a couple of weeks. Just taking a little while to get accustomed to being back. Will talk more about that later, but thought I should give people an idea of what occurred on my last volunteer project. Hello!! . . . are you still out there? Stay with me people, I know I have returned home and I am safe so some of the intrigue of whether I will be eaten by hippos is gone, but I still have a few more snippets to share. After surviving a day and a half in the fearsome streets of Johannesburg, actually I was in some nice suburbs, so not so scary, I then flew in my favorite little propeller plane to the city of Phalaborwa. Oh, wait, let me expand a little since I am not a huge fan of flying. Our flight was first delayed for an 1hr and a half for mechanical difficulties. THen we were taken out to the airplane where we sat for 20 minutes until the pilot mentioned we would have to go back to the terminal and wait til they worked a little longer on the plane. And then after waiting another 20 minutes for our ride back to the terminal, the pilot then states that we will give it another shot. "What the hell does that mean", I was thinking. Hello, this is an airplane, we can't just wing it (no pun intended), can we? Well despite all that, and me gaining a few more grey hairs, we survived and landed at the smallest airport I think I have ever seen. Two flights a day, and the baggage claim involves a guy walking out with the luggage in his hands and setting it in front of you. After waiting several minutes and starting to panic, because nobody magically appeared with a sign: MR. William Flanagan, a young brit named Kate greeted me, figuring that after 10 minutes of not having someone hug me or whisk me away and looking quite lost and scared, that I indeed must be one of the new volunteers. I also was met by two of my other fellow volunteers a wonderful couple from Holland, Marcel and Tamara, who would later fill me in on the wonders of the aviation world since they both worked for KLM as pilot and flight attendant. A later flight would bring our other cohort, a young Canadian from small town Alberta. Essentially the volunteer project takes place on the Selati Reserve which is a collection of farms that has been converted to a private reserve. Some of them are still working farms for raising game animals for sale. They, of course, have fenced off areas for this business, because within the reserve itself, you have a number of predatory animals such as a pride of lions, hyena, cheetah and leopards. It would otherwise be quite bad for business if these guys were chowing down on you livelihood. Typically, I think, farmers join this reserve for personal interests of being able to drive around and see a host of animals such as giraffe, zebra, rhino, impala, water buck,elephant,a etc, not to mention the other predatory animals. And I wouldn't doubt there was a little tax break in there somewhere. Now when I call these farms it refers mostly to owned tracts of land, not well groomed fields where once lay corn, wheat, etc. It is a variety of South African habitats, shrublands, rocky outcrops, forests, grassy fields, you name it, with dirt roads strewn throughout, with varying degrees of driveability. We stayed in a small 1 story stone building with one room for volunteers with 4 bunkbeds, a kitchen, a few rooms for staff and a couple of bathrooms. Also included were an outdoor shower and toilet were one could cleanse and crap under the sunny sky if you were so inclined. We also had an additional covered area where we had most of our meals and our friday night brai (bbq). Electricity was obtained through solar panels and if necessary a generator which was about 100 feet from the house. If days were cloudy and the generator was acting up, we spent the evening with candlelight and headlamps (this happened 3 or 4 times). And internet, well forget about it, not going to happen except for the weekly 1hr drive into town for groceries. The stove, refrigerators and freezer were run by gas and the hot water was generated by a fire that was constantly burning under a large metal tank outside. It was necessary for periodic firewood runs, to keep that going. Showers varied between scalding hot, cold, trickling, to a periodic heavenly perfection. On a daily basis, we each had assigned tasks that varied. Usually every other day, you were responsible for cooking the meals or doing the dishes. Meals were typically predetermined (though negotiable) by staff who rationed out the supplies and were things such as hamburgers and fries, spaghetti, stirfry, casseroles, fish and chips, etc, which could be seasoned with the repertoire of many outdated condiments obtained "fresh" from local grocers. Of note, mayonaise and mustard 6 months past their due date are remarkably edible. Also on a given day we would have a task for each game drive, which took place twice a day except on Sundays, our day off. The four tasks were as follows vehicle: checking fluids, tire pressure, fuel, emergency supplies on the safari truck (by the way, fuel was added from a gas can by siphoning with a big ol' hose into the tank), phuza: which meant snacks supplies meaning boiling hot water for tea and coffee, bringing juice, the ever precious and frequently forgotten milk, and rusks, which are a south african cookie/biscuit shaped like a small brick, and in my opinion tasting like a brick which improved when dunked into coffee or tea. Most people loved them, I could only appreciate them as a weapon or some type of building material. Next was data: involving logging in any of the less common animals such as predatory animals such as lions, cheetah, leopards, hyena or the larger game animals such as zebra, water bucks, elan (type of antelope), wildebeast. Elephants also fell into this category as did rhinos. Giraffes as amazing as they are, were too frequent in number. Part of logging them in was categorizing sex, age (adult, juvenile), names (some animals were electronically collared so we knew who they were), belly size in the case of predatory animals to determine food intake, and any important observations such as "lion juggling 3 small waterhogs while singing a catchy little melody"). The last job and most challenging was telemetry: which involved utilizing a telemetry device made up of a small antenna, cable and box which would emit a certain beeping sound if any of the collared animals were within a certain distance. Now this was a very inexact science. Basically 10 animals had a collar (4 lions, 5 elephants, 1 leopard) and you would dial in their frequency and turn the antenna slowly around in a 360 degree circle (I guess all circles are 360 degrees, aren't they) and when you got a beeping sound you started to turn it down til you barely could hear it, and this volume number would give you a "very" rough estimate of the distance from where you were. What was even more difficult to determine was the direction where the signal came from. Utilizing the clock system of direction, the signal could be in a range sometimes of 9 to 1 o'clock, or even greater range. It was really difficult to narrow it down to just one clock direction, say 9'oclock. And sometimes as you got closer, it seemed the signal was everywhere. The signal also varied quite a bit by elevation (getting higher could find a better signal), whether the animal was moving, hills, rocks, ditches, electric fences, or telephone/electric wires. So basically twice a day, at 6am til 11am or so and at 330pm to 8pm or much later, we went on game drives to find the animals. The project is with an organization called LEO which monitors the pride of roughly 12 lions in the reserve. They document lion behavior with focus on location throughout the reserve and also kills that they make to determine a balance of game animals and determination whether another pride can be introduced. It's an ongoing research project with periodic updates and a yearly synopsis paper to document all the findings. Our first game drive was just amazing. We neared the area where the lions were and came upon a group of elephants, probably 15 or so, in a small forested area. We watched as they moved around feeding on leaves and scratching themselves against the trees. Elephants typically leave quite a mark if they were in an area. Difficult to tiptoe through the forest when you are several tons. Trees are knocked down, grass is trampled and many times they leave the largest pile of poop you've ever seen. While watching these amazing elephants, a few of them had noticed our presence and come to check us out. One of them, made several warning charges within 15 feet or so of us, doing it's best elephant roar. Now, I don't know how many of you have witnessed such an event, but when you are in the back of the safari truck completely exposed to the elements and you have an elephant charging and making all sorts of racket, it makes you feel a little uneasy. Our guide, Greg, would turn on the engine and rev the motor a few times which caused the elephant to back up. Now, I don't want to discount the bravery of our beloved guide, but when you are in the front of the truck in a covered compartment, it is a slightly different experience and elicits a slightly different response than the surge of catecholamines raging through my body. This was further amplified when the elephant then bent down and began ramming it's tusks into the ground in a nice goring motion. I will never claim to be a zoologist or elephant expert, but I knew deep down inside, this was not a sign of peace. Again, the revving of the engine, the elephant backed off a few steps, looked intently at us, then turned away and rambled slowly away. We were safe for now or so I thought. We still had to meet up with some lions, only 50 feet down the road. We drove onward and into the bush to a sandy, treed area, where to my amazement lay two lions about 20 feet away. We watched for awhile, but as I was quick to learn, you were never too close to the lions, and we continued around the ground to a position within 10 feet of the two lions, with the spotlight shining on their beautifully regal forms. I was nervous, but excited and watched intently as our eyes met. "Wow", to be this close to 2 lions, was just incredible. A few moments later, the two lions stood up and started walking. "That was amazing" I said. Then as they moved away, another lion came from the bushes to follow them, then another, then another, then another. About 6-7 lions passed us. "Well, that was incredible". What a night I thought, but then we started driving, returning to the road for about 150 feet to where the lions had intercepted the road and decided to plop down in front of us. They didn't move, and nor did we. Just watching each other. A minute or two passed and from behind we heard a loud rustling of the trees 50 feet back. "Uhh, Greg, I think the elephants are coming back". 1st night, lions ahead of us and elephants behind us. Are you kidding me? Minutes passed and the elephants never got closer, but I sat there and wondered, what if they had? After several more minutes we started the engine and started driving, following the lions as they walked ahead of us for several yards until they disappeared into the jungle. Since it was getting late, we started heading back for the hr drive back home. The drives home were always a little bit of relief, because you were getting tired, but also a good bit of anticipation, never knowing what was round the next corner as we scanned our surroundings for the glowing eyes of some animal. Many times it was just impala (small antelopes) which populated much of the reserve. With these, we had to be careful, we didn't flash them too long, because they would be blinded and just stare at you and be paralyzed in their tracks making them an easy mark for any predator. On this magical 1st night, we would see what I have now learned to be the holy grail of animals, the unicorn of the african jungle, the Tutankaman of safaris. It's not a leopard, cheetah or even a hippo, but the ever reclusive, nocturnal, ferocious (not really) Aardvark, a rather small (2 feet long) pudgy, long nosed omnivore that not so gracefully waddles around. The chances of seeing them are quite rare, though and though we mostly just caught his butt end, as he lumbered away, it was quite a scene to be had, especially when we would mention to others who were awed by our stories of good fortune. Several minutes later we would also be lucky enough to see 2 hyena trotting down the road for about a quarter mile or so. These guys are just as they are portrayed in the Lion King (finally some accuracy in film). They are sneaky, mean, evil scavengers who wander the land looking for some poor lonely animal or some leftover kill from some more respectable predator. Well, I feel like after writing all this, that I am getting a little wordy, so I want to sum up some of the other things I did while I volunteered. On our day off, we checked out the Blyde River Canyon, which is the 3rd largest canyon in the world and took a small river cruise and saw some hippos, a crocodile and many different bird species. I don't mean to brag, but I have also seen the #1 largest canyon (grand canyon) and the 2nd largest canyon (Fish River canyon in Namibia). Another weekend we went to Kruger National Park, which is amazing and despite the pissy weather, we saw a variety of wildlife, most notably elephants (a few of which, I believe actually were moonwalking on the road in front of us. I have video footage, so you can be the judge), lions, hyena, giraffes, etc. We also were about 30 seconds too late from seeing a cheetah, which bummed me out. Also most notably, we had a particularly amazing night when we tracked down two leopards and watched them for probably an hour until, they walked away. As they left, we then saw a hyena pass by, and as we attempted to reverse our vehicle from our position, we promptly got stuck in the mud. Now this is a slightly tense situation when you have very recently seen a total of 3 animals that wouldn't mind you as a night time snack. But after 20 minutes or so, we were on our way. Probably the most scared I had been on the trip was one of the last nights when we, as usual, had found the pride of lions in pitch dark along the fenceline on the road. After watching 4 of the lions ahead of us, our guide wanted to get a closer look at the other lions in the grass and bushes off to the side, so we proceeded to drive into the grass about 8 feet and watch some of the lions, two of which got within 10 feet of the side of the vehicle. Warned by our guide to not make any sudden movements, I watched, hoping the lions didn't see my heart beating and pulsating through my chest cavity. As we pulled back and repositioned to leave the animals we moved onto the road and stopped the car to continue to watch those we had left off to the side, and the ones now behind us. Within a few minutes 2-3 of the lions walked by the side of the car and in front of the car, slowly moving forward. At this point, I wondered if this was one of those situations that might be considered near stupidity or at least a slight miscalculation. At present, there were 3 lions behind me, about 10 feet, quite interested in this vehicle with nice pretty shiny lights, another 2-3 lions on the side, curious about these people staring at them, only a few feet and a leap away, and 2-3 lions in front slowly moving away, looking for another spot to lay down in a more peaceful setting. Now as I was later to learn or at least be told, the lions perceive us and the vehicle as one big entity that is much, much larger than them and beyond their ability to overcome and kill. But at the time as you are staring into the eyes of these incredibly powerful animals and they seem to be staring right into your very soul, connecting to your very being, sensing each and everyone of your fears, there is an extreme urge to have a heart attack, stroke, or at the very least poop or pee in your pants. Now, I didn't end up doing any of these, but it was close and as we pulled away slowly, and the lions followed the truck, I felt increasingly scared. "Uh, Phil, they are following us, there's 3 lions following us!!" "Just let me know when they are close" he responded. "Uh, Phil they are about 10 feet away, maybe closer". "I am not worried about that, just let me know when they are right behind the truck". Occasionally he would stop the truck and reverse towards them to scare them off, but they always kept coming, and started to speed up a little. Now let me say one thing. I have figured out something, that there are different levels of fear directly linked to your proximity to the lions. In this instance with the lions following from behind, it begins like this. First level involves when you are driving in an enclose cab in full control of the vehicle, it is the "Oh, no, I hope these lions don't catch up to us, pick the lock or use a slim jim and get into the vehicle and eat me!!". The next 3 levels involve the seating in the open cab in the back. The 2nd level is the seat behind the cab or the "Oh, no, I hope these lions don't leap over the back door, eat Bill, digest their meal, then eat Mark, relax a little maybe have a little discussion about the philosophy of life and then devour me (Marcel)". The 3rd level is the middle seat or the "Oh, no, I hope these lions don't leap over the back door, ignore Bill or even just eat him and then move on to me in all of 2hours, with me frozen in fear (Mark)". Finally there is the 4th level of fear, which in the hands of my imagination can progress to the 5th level of fear which I will explain later. The fourth level is "Oh, no, I hope these lions who are now salivating and staring into my eyes don't make an easy leap into the back of the truck and forget that there is two other tasty morsels in the back and quickly dismember and devour me in an ironic end to my trip" (Bill, that's me). The fifth level is a little more involved and actually requires a fair amount of imagination, but gripped in this kind of situation, one's imagination like the rest of the body becomes infused with a strong level of adrenaline. This fifth level involves the safari truck hitting a bump in the road, my body being tossed in the air backwards, me inadvertantly throwing all sorts of insults at the lions as I'm flying through the air , something like "you are a bunch of pansy assed over sized kittens who couldn't spot prey if it flew off the back of the truck and fell into you mouths" and then the lions mistakenly mixing me up with a young good looking Brad Pittlike hunter who had many years ago come in and killed their parents in a ferocious bloodbath, and then me landing with each limb including my head in the mouth of a different lion, being quickly ripped too shreds, left for dead (well actually by that time I am), eaten by hyenas, torn apart by vultures and finished off by carrion beetles and finally peed on by an aardvark. Now I admit, this was highly unlikely, but at the time the adrenaline was flowing, and after finally pulling away from the lions, I went into a tirade of obscenities that I cannot repeat here for fear of government reprisal. Suffice to say, it helped and minutes later, I retained my senses, though I did have some intense discussions with the guides about volunteer safety. One of them did admit, that the comfort level of the lions around the truck was getting a little concerning. Anyways, it was a great experience and I recommend it to everyone, though I would also recommend a few extra pairs of underwear. As we said our goodbyes and headed to the airport, I prepared myself for what was going to be a very long day. I would fly from Phlaborwa airport 1 1/2 hours to Johannesburg, relax for a few hours, then fly 8 1/2 hours to Dakar (I was actually embarrassed when I found out where I would fly through, that I had no idea where that was, it's in Senegal, by the way), then 8 1/2 hours to Washington DC, run through customs, and another 6hours to San Francisco. Grand total-24 1/2 hours on the plane or about 30 hours from beginning to end. Topped off with an interesting landing at SF which involved descending towards the runway under slightly rainy and foggy conditions, about to touch down, when all of a sudden the plane lifted up, pulled up the wheels and started climbing. This was the "oh, crap, I am going to die, but I've had a good life, just finished an amazing trip, I love my family and friends. . . oh, wait, I don't want to die . . . oh wait, maybe I am not going to die" moment. The pilot announced that visibility had been compromised and that we would have to make another attempt. After many nerve wracking moments, and circling around we landed without difficulty and I thanked the Lord above for giving me a little more time. Thank you very much for your time. The trip is over, but I will share one more additional post after this one to sum up a few feelings and philosophies of the trip. Hope you enjoyed.

And now, something completely different!!

Well, Chapter 1 and 2 (my two different overland trips) were now over. It was time for Chapter 3. I must say, that my expectations of this healthcare volunteer experience were a little hazy. Not much info is given about exactly what you are going to see and do. Part of this was also impacted by the fact that I had talked to one of my buddies at work right before heading out, and she told me she had also volunteered outside of Capetown at a hospital. Wow, I thought, "what place?". She then told me the name was Rondelbosch or something like that. I thought, hey, I think that's my place because I remember that it started with an R. She then went on to say how modern it was, state of the art. She actually worked in their ICU and was so impressed with what they had. This certainly was a little different then I was expecting. I thought maybe it might be a small clinic or something, but then again, maybe I will have an opportunity to work at a clinic while I was there. Well, let's just say, it was not the same place. It turns out that my place was in Rocklands a neighborhood in an area called Mitchells Plains. During Apartheid, sometime in mid 20th century, huge numbers of nonwhites were essentially kicked out of Capetown proper and redistributed in an area called Capetown flats where Mitchells Plains is located. Most of them were housed in shanty towns, shacks made of plywood and other stuff, literally on top of one another. Many of these still remain, but others were small houses crammed together with the poorest of the poor. This was my neighborhood. It wasn't exactly the slums, in fact it was relatively clean, but everyone had a gate, and every window had bars on it. And I was expressly forbidden/warned by my host family to not walk around without one of them, knowing that as a "whitey", obviously not from this "hood", that I would be a definite victim. My host family was amazing. "Auntie" Pearl is a 60year old widow who is a saint. All of them were very religious and Andrew, her son in law, had become a born again Christian just months before. He picked me up from the airport with his 2 year old son Isiah. I was originally supposed to be picked up by Marina, the coordinator, but instead was met by this man who was about my height but at least twice my size. He is though, at least now, a gentle giant. Most of the trip from the airport involved him telling me his story. About 36 years old, he grew up in a city known for extensive gang activity and many many casualties from such activity. He himself was one of the leaders in a gang coincidentally known as the Americans, one of the most well known gangs in all of South Africa. He went on to say that America is respected and worshipped for it's gang life. They emulate rappers and gangsters from America (to be so proud!!). He also told stories of his life, the women, the drugs, the drinking, the killings and I listened in shocked disbelief. This was my host family. "Holy shit!!!" But what contrast to the man he has become, he left all of that behind years ago, but continued most of the excessive drinking until finding God. Now he has become an instrument of Christ and has dedicated his life to spreading the word. Just amazing stuff. His wife Sanchiline is incredible. She has the patience of Job, works like a madwoman (currently supporting the family. Unemployment is rampant in South Africa) and also takes care of her son and teenage daughter with the help of Andrew and Pearl. Kaylin is her 15year old daughter from another father, who is a witty, quick talking and fun teenager. Quick to give me crap, teach me a card game and then in good teenage style, beat me severely at the game and let me know it. She's a good sister to her younger brother, Isiah. This kid is amazing. He smiles and laughs like no other, he's mesmerized by tv (stopped in his tracks anytime he walks by) and is into anything that anybody else is doing. He also is somewhat of a nudist, and is quick to shed clothes at a moments notice. I loved that kid and look forward to see what he becomes. Much of my time there entailed meeting the friends and family of these guys and I cherish those moments the most. I really got to know a lot about the culture through those many special interactions. All of them were incredibly wonderful people. I even got to drink boxed wine with some of his old drinking buddies in a small shack in what Andrew referred to as "the slums". As we drank away, they told me that if I were to walk one block down, there was a good chance I would come upon some meth heads who would at the very least rob me, and possibly even kill me if I were alone. Refreshing thoughts. With them, they said, I was safe, nobody would dare mess with me while I hung out with them. Strangely enough I treasured those moments. Scared, yet exhilarated. Admittedly, having Andrew, a man twice my size (at least) who had been a major gang member, at my side, was always reassuring. I also went to a braii which is essentially a South African bbq with in this case large sausages (the name I forget) over a small grill. I then listened as they played guitar and sang songs. That was the second night I was there. This was amazing. Now no discussion of South Africa would be complete without the discussion of race. It is everything here. It started hundreds of years ago with the Dutch coming in, progressed with the Boers who were essentially offshoots of that but mostly farmers and culminated with the establishment of apartheid. Now, this is a country of lots of white immigrants from hundreds of years ago, former slaves that are a mix of europeans/indians/arabs who are mixed in with the native "blacks". When I say mixed, I mean, their has been a lot of offspring from these combinations. So essentially during apartheid people were classified into whites, blacks who are what one would think of as Africans, and the coloureds who are the mix of those other groups, and then there are also the pure immigrants who are classified as Asians that includes Indians. Confused yet. I am. Now the strange thing to me as an American is that many of the coloured group would in fact in America be categorized as black, but it's more than just a color thing, it's a cultural thing. Most of the blacks speak the native african dialects, where as the coloureds favor Afrikaans which is a language essentially created by the early immigrants and is a combination of Dutch, German, English, etc. Most coloureds also speak English but favor the Afrikaans, most blacks speak their own dialects but also speak English and most whities speak both but favor Afrikaans, and all of this changes depending on what part of the country you are in. Now I know you are confused. So the bottom line is, South Africa in many ways is a messed up country because you have all of these languages and cultures, etc and to top it off, you had a bunch of idiot whities that decided years ago to separate everybody and treat them like crap and then try to rule the country even though they were a huge minority. Recipe for disaster. Now fast forward to Mandela, who comes out of prison and now ends Apartheid with lots of help and now everything is switched all around, but now all the blacks are in power and a reverse discrimination has occured where most of the jobs now go to them, and now, and this is a slanted version, because I lived the coloured experience, the coloured who were once second class citizens to the "whiteys" are now second class citizens to the blacks. The tension in this country is incredible. Each day there is a battle to keep order. It's a tenuous situation, which is far better than the time of Mandela's election, but things are brewing and there is definite fear and trepidation within this country. Not to mention, I have never seen so much barbed wire, gates, electric fences in my life. Everything here revolves around protecting those things that you have. All the cars have code keys to start the engine, stereos which are removed, not just faceplates but the whole stereo. Forgetting to lock your car is a present to the thieves. Now I have seen one side of the country, and my guess is that there exists many wonderful places here, safe and secure, but that is indeed a minority. I hope for the best for this country, but they have far to go, but then again, looking back, they have also come a far way. Gone are the days of carrying id cards with your vital info including your race status, but the distrust is still ingrained. Ok, that just lets you know a little of the situation that exists here. My volunteer position was at Mitchells Plain Community Hospital which is essentially a day hospital monday to friday 8-4 unless there is an extreme emergency which stays open 24hours a day. It also has clinics for babies/children and mothers. Another clinic focused on diabetics and hypertensive patients and another clinic called the ARV (antiretroviral) clinic which deals with HIV patients in the area. The 24 hr area would be called our emergency room, but is referred to as Trauma which is actually a great name for it. The hospital is only one level, but receives an amazing amount of patients that are all low or no income patients. These are the poorest of the poor. My first introduction as I passed through the walled in/barbed wired complex was to get frisked by the security guard. Everybody must be checked for weapons, and this was a daily drill as was the searching of cars for bombs as they entered the gate. I then was introduced to many of the "sisters", the designation for nurses here in South Africa. They all were epaulets on their shoulders which indicate which areas of training they have completed, for example, "general", "psych", "trauma", etc. I would say that all of them seem very well trained and I was impressed by their abilities. My first day involved working in the ARV Clinic (HIV) shadowing the counselers who are kind of like social workers, but not quite. They see all the HIV patients on a regular basis, depending on their point of treatment and counsel them on how to take the medicines, side effects of drugs and the disease and helping them with home issues like money, alcohol, abuse, drugs, etc. There is a huge HIV population in South Africa, the highest percentage in the world, and there is a huge focus on testing, prevention and treatment, because of that. It took many years to get to this point but they are really trying to get a hold of the disease. I don't want to get too much into details of the program because it would take forever. I am however left with the overwhelming feeling of how big a problem this is and how it affects the country. I continued my experience working with the physicians who were all excellent, the head of the clinic actually is from Nigeria, and was truly amazing and funny too. One of my days also involved going to a few of the clubs and dropping off boxes of condoms (6,000 condoms each) which are given out free to customers. They were a little surprised when I told them that we pay for such things. Oh, another hilarious thing I read in the informational booklets about HIV was that as they described the types of people that can have HIV, they said that "even Homosexuals" are known to contract HIV. Suffice to say, it is hugely the heterosexual population that carries the disease here, and not vice versa. After more than a week in the ARV clinic, I spent my last few days in the Trauma unit. Now this place is busy. They are severely understaffed and have very little room for the patients that come in. It's essentially 3 beds with the triaging occuring in the same room. Meanwhile, with all this overcrowding, you have lots of people coughing, coming in with measles (now an evolving problem) and TB. Infection control is . . . well, interesting. You have a sink, that sometimes has soap, but rarely has paper towels. Alcohol rub is relatively non existent. Gloves are present but rarely used, especially with IV insertion. I also assisted in putting a couple of urinary catheters which involved cleansing with normal saline and that's all and using regular gloves. In America, everything is sterile smeared with lots of iodine. Wow!! What a trip. The first day was not too bad, the next involved showing up at 8am with them inserting a chest tube into a 30 ish old woman who had a collapsed lung secondary to TB. Not sure if I mentionned it, but I saw more TB in 1 day than in 12 years of nursing. All total, I saw probably about 100 people who either had had TB in the past, just contracted TB or were on their 3rd of 4th bout of TB. And they have a lot of the multi drug resistant TB here. THat being said, my time in Trauma involved wearing a mask the whole time, because the doctors, thankfully, did not want me to bring some weird strain of TB back to America to infect the masses. The days commonly involved the presence of police who brought patient/prisoners in with stab wounds or minor/major lacerations. There was a lot of suturing going on. My last day involved coming in with the doctors treating a major head wound, meaning much of the back of the head was missing, secondary to a fall or some other tragedy. The patient was unresponsive, but ironically had great vital signs. That place was indeed crazy, and they stated this was actually minor compared to Friday and Saturday nights when the place fills with gunshot and stab wounds. All I got to say is I definitely received an amazing experience filled with all the complexities that South Africa has to offer. Next stop, my safari volunteer experience. Later

Malaria Free, thank goodness.

Well, I had a slight break since I last wrote. The last post was abruptly stopped because I was feeling like crap. After 4 days in bed, one emergency room visit and refreshing lab results, I am feeling on top of my game again. After feeling flu symptoms for over 24hrs, I heeded the warning of every guidebook/medical journal and made a visit to the local emergency room. This is becoming a bad trend for me, because in Spain, I also made a visit to the emergency room, for what turned out to be hives secondary to bedbugs. One shot in the butt and a prescription for antihistamines and I was out into the real world. THis time it was purely out of the slight possibility that it could be malaria. May have already mentionned this, but essentially if you are in a malaria area and have any flulike symptoms for up to a year afterwards, it's time to get your butt into a doctor immediately for a check of malaria, because it progresses very quickly and without much forgiveness if you don't start treatment. THings like death are not uncommon. So like a good nurse, I put it off for over a day, hoping that it would get better. The ironic thing is, since it was a holiday weekend (easter), the "immediate" test took over 6 hours to get the results, so I went home and prayed that I would survive the night. I did and everything was negative. I then spent a total of 4 days watching South African soap operas (Isindore is my favorite for those who need to know) and a whole lot of bad commercials. I also have watched a ton of football (soccer) and am very enthusiastic about the coming of the World Cup. Ok, let me quickly return to the other part of the trip. I will fastforward a little to the 2nd to the last day of the tour which involved a ton of driving and a marathon game of "Shithead" which is a cardgame played by the aussies and brits. Very entertaining and too involved to describe right now, but after many rounds, I essentially was crowned King Shithead which as you can imagine is not a good thing. Apart from the constant taunts of "shithead" this, "shithead" that, I unfortunately gained this title on an eventful day. First of all, this campsite was a known stomping ground for my travel company so they had stored many props here which entailed rather radical feminine attire which I had to adorn myself with after dinner. Secondly, I was to take a shot which was either a "death" shot or "suicide" shot which after already having 2 glasses of wine didn't sound too bad. What's one shot, I said. I can do one shot of anything. Well, as they led me to the bar and I put on my "evening" wear (a nice ensemble of shiny pants, flowery shirts, a scarf and a pair of underwear on my head), I placed the ceremonial hard hat onto my head. Hmmm, so much ceremony for a little bitty shot. Well, that shot, was first of all in a pint glass and was a mixture of (I would find out after taking it) 8 shots of various alcohols (their shots are about 1/2 of American shots), various sauces like hot sauce, salsa, chutney and then topped off with a beer. Looking at it and smelling it was a challenge in itself, but drinking it, which in true American pride I did in one fail swoop, was indeed a challenge. Not only finishing it, but actually keeping it down which proudly I did and to the roar of the crowd. After finding out it's contents, I prepared myself for the worse and imagined an early trip to the tent. Meanwhile, with all the spirit that the entire trip represented, each of my cohorts dressed up in wacky attire, many of the men being the most enthusiastic, changing outfits several times throughout the night. We then all proceeded to drink more than humanly possible, and after determining that I was indeed not going to die, I joined in with more shots, and several beer bongs (ah!!!!, memories of college). My good buddy Patrick who is not a drinker proceed to do a double orange fanta bong, which is actually tougher than it looks, and many of the onlookers were sprayed with the orange goodness of Fanta. Not only did I not have an early night, I lasted til after 4 and then had to make it back to my tent without my headlamp which I had loaned to someone, and then proceed to pass out in all my clothes, only to be woken up at 7am by many of my compatriots. What a night!!!!! We then hopped in the truck and continued on to Capetown and beyond to the Cape of Good Hope, the most southern point in Africa where both the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet in a clash of fury. It's truly beautiful and I always feel more alive when being present at such a monumental point in the world. I was truly on the other side of the world. We camped just a few miles away at a "campers only" site. At first it was difficult to determine why there was this designation, but soon after putting up our tents, we discovered why. Gale force winds punished our tents and we utilized the truck to be able to actually cook under such conditions. After moving several of the tents, we buckled down for the night. I actually decided to stay where I was. My survival mechanism, a sleeping tablet and ear plugs. Luckily both my tent and I, were there in the morning. After some logistics involving a complete scrub down of the truck we made our way to Capetown which in my opinion is the San Francisco of South Africa. They have weather quite similar to ours, fog included. It's truly a beautiful city, ecletic, colorful and positionned right on the water. And unlike some areas of South Africa is relatively safe. THat night we gathered together for one last feast and a helluva party. Many of us donned the color beige in honor of my wardrobe which these folks think I wear all the time at home. We had some tapas and then proceeded to go to a local club, pound many drinks, dance up a storm and rehash stories of what can only be described as an amazing adventure for all of us. We had spent 24hrs a day with each other for weeks, trading life stories, setting up tents, cooking meals, drinking beer, seeing the most incredible things, even surviving a brawl. It has been more than anything I could imagine, and these people shared it all with me. I will never forget them and hope to always know at least some of them. I know that life goes on, people move onto other things, families are formed, relationships change, but this was definitely something I will always cherish. Thanks for sharing the ride.

Namibia continued.

Thought that it was getting a little long so I continued on a new post. After Swakopmund, we continued down Namibia to Sesriem which is an area of hundreds of large dunes. We took a walk with a local guide who talked to us about how these particular dunes are not always changing like most dunes because of the plants that act as an anchor, and the way the winds usually only blow a certain way in one season and back the other way, so that only the tops actually shift a little one way or another.

Nambia and beyond

If you look at the date, it certainly has been a little while since my last post. Mostly due to lack of internet access. Currently with my volunteer family and I am a few miles away from any internet action. I will now do the best I can to catch everyone up. Feeling a little under the weather right now, but am hoping it's just a little virus, instead of malaria. I will keep you posted. Boy, that's a crappy thing to write isn't it. Now I've got everybody a little worried. I'll be fine, and if all else fails, it will be an experience. Didn't realize how far behind I was on the posts. Hanging out with the bushman was an amazing experience. Essentially the people do actually live in more "modern" homes, though out here, that's not saying much, but for this cultural experience, they in fact dress in there traditional garb, which involves a leather loin cloth and that's about it. We were taken to the traditional village which involved straw huts and the medicine man took us around the area to show us how they once and occasionally still do, utilize the plants for medicinal reasons, water, food, and trapping small animals. The lead guy spoke only the local language of Xhosa, which is pronounced more like cosa, with various clicking sounds of the tongue and palate to form words. He was actually quite funny and entertaining and provided lots of information about the culture. After that, we headed to Etosha Safari park. Now as you can tell, I have seen quite a few animals already and it takes a lot to entertain my interests, but a few things stood out in this venture. One, we saw a lion quite close up that was either suffering from dehydration or had been hit, because it swayed back and forth for about 50 feet until it just plopped down and remained panting. Our leader called the headquarters to report this so hopefully it got some kind of help, but it was indeed strange to see such an incredibly strong animal in such a debilitated state. We also saw a black Rhino about 75feet away or so, which is always a treat since they are so rare. The park also had another feature which I hadn't seen which are watering holes that are adjacent to the park, but which shine lights at nighttime so you can sit there and watch animals that might show up. Although it was impossible for me to capture the animals, I did see some jackals, antelope, an owl and a few other things that I don't know what they were. Earlier on in the day, although I didn't witness it, there was an elephant. After Etosha, we proceeded into the heart of the desert to Spitzkoffe, which is essentially a series of large rock hills/mountains made out of reddish granite. It reminded me a bit of Joshua tree meets Arches National Park, because right next to our campsite which was along side some huge rocks (and I do mean huge), there was actually a rock arch. You will also begin to notice that with Namibia being a German colony, the names reflect this, as does the sense of order of many of the towns and cities. As far as Spitkoffe, there was no city, town or even running water for that matter. Most of our time there involved taking amazing sunset/sunrise photos and hiking up incredibly difficult mountains where I managed to acquire a variety of scrapes and cuts from rocks and cacti. It was challenging and felt good after one spends most of the time on the truck, your muscles feel like there is some atrophying going on, meanwhile, the gut is growing from all the food and beer. After a couple nights there, we then moved out to the coast, which still resembled a vast wasteland but was interspersed with desalinization plants, which I would guess provided a lion's share of their water supplies. Luckily for Namibia, one of their greatest resources are huge diamond mines in the southern part of the country which is strictly off limits to anyone (big surprise). Our first stop on the coast was Cape Cross where there is the largest seal colony I have ever seen and probably one of the most smelly things I have ever encountered. I think the fact that I am a nurse, that might lend a lot of credibility to that statement. It was an amazing sight, but one can only tolerate it for a short period of time, before survival becomes tenuous. I think it may have taken a half hour before the smell dissipated from my olfactory ducts. As we moved down the coast we began to see a series of small beach enclaves, which looked quite odd, because there would be nothing and then a string of brightly colored small stone homes which were of course very ordered. Our next stop would be the incredibly entertaining Swakopmund, known as the Livingstone of Nambia, referring to the amount of opportunities to risk your life (remember my bungee jump/ultralight, etc.). That afternoon, a handful of us decided to do some quadbiking which is an ATV over the sand dunes. This was an awesome and much scarier experience than I expected. First of all, it's quite different driving than a motorcycle, which I have a couple of years experience with, and secondly, you are driving on sand which is a challenge. I was certainly the grandpa of the group and was found usually at the back, sometimes going around in circles down some dunes (and not on purpose), but it still was incredible fun as we scaled the sides of dunes about 30 feet in the air and curved downward. It is quite a rush and being out on the dunes was just amazing. I managed to scrape my leg up nicely because at times because I was used to a motorcycle, I was putting my foot down for stability. A very bad idea. After that excitement, we all returned back and cleansed our self after not having access to a shower for a few days and headed out on the town to a nice restaurant right on the coast. I gorged myself on an incredibly large seafood platter to the amazement of all and then washed it down with 2- 1 liter mugs of beer. Got to love the Germans. Our next venue provided more excitement than many of the other adventures. Many of us proceeded to a bar and after many shots, beers and dancing, proceeded to have a small brawl with some rather large South African construction/engineer types. They were complete idiots and were trying to take advantage of a few of our beautiful travelers and then accusing us of stealing her camera. Next thing we knew, there were fists being thrown, even I got a fist to the nose which I had forgot about until I woke up with a rather sore nose and blowing blood out of my nose the next morning. Everything happened rather quickly and the bouncers temporarily held the offenders until one of them got through the ranks and sucker punched one of our friends who was just standing there. Our friend then hit his head either on the wall or the floor and essentially received a concussion. Another friend got headbutted on the forehead and had blood dripping from his forehead. To speed this up a bit, I essentially had to utilize a little of my nursing knowledge in a rather drunken state and at one point even gave my friend several sternal rubs to try to wake him up. He had some souvenir pain two days later. We got our now unresponsive friend into an ambulance, to a hospital, where he slowly woke up and then proceeded to regain full consciousness, though his memory of the event is completely absent. It was an interesting experience on so many levels, but one that doesn't need to be repeated. After a few hours of rest, I then headed out to do some sandboarding which is essentially "sandsledding" on a thin plywood board down some rather steep sand dunes, equipped with helmets and elbow pads. It certainly was scary, when you first went down the hill but soon it became comfortable as you got used to the speed. On the steepest one, I was clocked in at about 70km/hr which is 42 miles per hour, and then hit a little bump at the end that caused you to fly a few feet. It was good fun.

Botswana to Namibia

Well, Zambia ushered us out with a big ol' flood. It started raining our last day there, and didn't really stop until more than 24 hrs later and only for a few hours of a break. We were all wet, our tents were wet, many had actually flooded that last night. I got away with only half my tent being wet. I now have my own tent, because my tent part had left at the end of the last segment, which has allowed me a little extra room to spread things out. Quite a luxury indeed. We entered Botswana and learned a very valuable lesson, that Zamibian dollars are not wanted anywhere else but in Zambia, and even there you can pay with American Dollars. While we are on the subject, two very big money hints for those heading this way: #1 the American Dollar is king, it might not be the strongest currency in the world, but it is accepted in almost all the countries and is easily changed, something I keep reminding my fellow travellers since they are always lovingly taking jabs at America through me, though I have been told that I am very nice for an American. Unfortunately bad American tourists make a strong impact with people, but luckily I have found some bad ones from other countries, though I think we do kind of corner the market on that. #2 money hint, bring a visa atm card. Mastercard, and pray tell, anything else like american express, etc, will only bring you frustration and despair. Finally, now that I am in Namibia, I am able to use it. I have otherwise been up a creek without a paddle for most of the way. Luckily, and this brings up #3, although really it could be #1b, bring lots of american dollars and not just $100's, oh, there it is, that's an official #3, bring multiple denominations of american dollars, because many time $100 is far too much. Ok, enough advice. Onto Botswana. Like I said, we had a fair amount of rain, which in a truck (we are not allowed to call our form of transpo a bus, because our leaders do not want to be "bus drivers" and it is a converted cement truck. By the way, there is a good chance I have already told you this, but I am too lazy to read what I have already wrote, but I digress. Because this truck is over 20 years old and has travelled over a million kilometers, it has a few flaws, one is that with strong rain, we start to take on water, not too bad, but given the wrong choice of seats, you make get dripped upon or there may be a mini flood at your feet. I have discovered that wearing sandals and keeping things off the floor are good things to do and in a pinch, a pringles can is a good means of trapping the water before it drops on your head. It's all about adapting. So anyways, we entered Botswana, set up camp and the next day headed out for a safari in Chobe national park. Now, after hitting many safaris, one gets a little particular, and if you are not seeing elephants and giraffes on the roadside, you are a little disappointed. We did manage a few hippos, but overall, we missed out a little. Later on a boat safari, where we had to carry our passports because we drifted over the border into namibia, we did manage to see a big herd of elephants on the side, two of which were chasing each other and making quite a bit of noise. The next day was even more exciting, when we were heading out on the main road, we saw a pack of large hyenas we were gnawing on a baby elephant right on the side of the road. It was actually quite amazing (unless you were the elephant), because hyenas are not really day creatures and to see so many was spectacular. Later that night, I upgraded a little, since it was raining and stayed in a bush hut, which had walls only half way up, a couple of twin beds and a bathroom which was, well let me say, I was quite exposed when taking a shower or reading the paper if you know what I mean. It's always a freeing experience to be one with nature, though I must say, the spiders that I saw at night were a little unnerving. Next we moved into the Okavango Delta, where we were met by mokuro canoes which are low lying flat bottom canoes. Each canoe had two passengers and one poler who in the style of Venice pushed you through the shallow water that was covered with lily pads and papyrus. It was truly beautiful especially that a day earlier we were not sure we were even going to make it here after all the rains. The road can become so flooded that you can't get in or out of this area. The road in was a dirt road of over 100 kilometers with hundreds of small villages along the way. The next few days and up til now we have been blessed with beautiful sunny skies. Got to head out in a second, but really appreciated the serenity of the island we stayed on. It was just us and the staff and a nice bar with some darts. Drinking beer has been a daily chore for me. It's not easy but someone has to do it. Right now we are in Namibia and heading out to hang with the bushman who will be teaching us about tracking and snares. It's a basic camp with toilets that we will dig ourselves. What am I going to do without beer? By the way, tried posting pics, but far too tedious. Will attach some when I get home. Love to all.

Lions, bungee and microlight, oh my!!!!

Well, moved onto Zambia. That's country number 6 now. Had a little snafu in Malawi with a busted valve on the truck and had to hang out at Lake Malawi for a couple of more days. Not a bad place to chill out and rest up. Always nice to take advantage of some access to laundry and upgraded to a small cabin, and i do mean small to get through a few rainy days. The definite highlight was playing soccer (football to you non Americans, which I am constantly reminded of, by my aussie/brit compatriots) with the local village kids. Our team was made up of about 9 guys from various overland groups and a couple of the locals who were awesome. Luckily since "football" is practically mandatory for all non Americans, we faired well and managed a 5-5 tie. It was quite competitive and there were times, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Haven't played a real game since high school, which many of you know was quite a few years ago. I have been complemented that I played well for an American. There was about 30-40 people there including the players and the level of play (not by me) was quite high. Just one of those special experiences that sometimes you get sheltered from when you are with a tour group. I will treasure it, especially the time I spent on the sideline with the little kids as they showed me how to make a simple little mini rocket with the long grass. I love how kids can just have fun with the smallest of things. Who needs Xbox? Lake Malawi is so beautiful and huge, and they have many times off in the distance what looks like large puffs of smoke on the horizon. It turns out that these puffs of smoke are actually millions of insects (i think stone flies) hatching at around the same time and flying around and I think mating. It's just amazing!!!! We next moved through Malawi to country number 6, Zambia. Everything is beautiful and green and relatively hilly. The 2nd day in Zambia was fraught with a couple of mini disasters that could have proven quite perilous but we managed to survive. About an hour after driving, many of us were woken by a loud crashing sound which I perceived as something falling off one of the shelves, but which turned out to be another truck coming from the opposite direction smashing into the side mirror of our driver which shattered and entered his window and landing on the floor. There were shards of glass everywhere and both the driver and one of the girls in the seat behind him had some cuts on their faces and glass in their hair. Luckily the girl, saw the truck at the last moment, and closed her eyes. After the clean up and replacement of the mirror, because these guys have replacement parts for everything on this truck, we continued onward. Hours later, I was again woken (we sleep a lot on the truck) by the truck being at a rather odd angle. There had been a truck trailer that had fallen over the side of the road, so a crane was taking up over half the road trying to yank it up. As we passed on the other side, the right side of our truck sank into the mud and we were at a 45 degree angle, feeling like we were going to topple over. After getting out of the truck which felt a lot like the old Batman series where everything is at a weird angle, the truck was able to backup and move closer to the crane to continue onward. And then Finally, we entered Livingstone, Zambia, named after you guessed it, Dr. Livingstone, I presume. His presence is all over Africa. The man has been everywhere. Well, that was two days ago, so, on my second day in the morning, I walked with a couple of lions. Yes you read it. A small group of us had the opportunity to help walk some lions with a program called ALERT which is working to increase lion populations in several countries in Africa by breeding lions and training them to survive in the wild. This entails exercising them daily, because they are essentially lazy animals until they reach about 18months where they place them in a controlled wild population without other predators and then after time out into the real wild to compete with other predators. In the 1st stage they can be with humans because their natural instinct to kill has not matured, but they are still large and powerful animals which are very unpredictable. We were instructed about proper actions and behaviors that we were supposed to have such as not crouching (which is a submissive position), not running or else you are like prey and they will run after you and either play with you or eat you, and to not back down if they approach you. We were all given a small stick about 2 feet long and we were to actually step strongly towards them and yell "NO" in a firm domineering fashion to teach them who was boss. All the while, hoping to not crap in your pants. Luckily neither of the two lions actually advanced on us, but the thought was quite frightening. We had the opportunity to pet the lions and I actually held one of their tails as they walked ahead of us. One of the lions even climbed into a tree for a few minutes. Just amazing. So for most people, this would be quite a full day, but for wild bill in Africa, it was only the beginning. As a group, we then met back at camp and jumped on the truck and headed to Victoria Falls, where we had to actually pass through immigration to enter Zimbabwe. Why would we pop into another country after only being in Zambia for less than a day. Well, to throw yourself off a bridge 111 meters thats over 350 feet to most of you towards the Zambezi river tied to a big rubber band. About 7 of our merry band decided to take the plunge off the bridge that falls between Zambia and Zimbabwe (of note, 1 dollar gets you about a several million zimbabwe dollars) border. As usual the experience was amazing though I was a little nervous when they were tying towels around my calves to use as part of the support device for the jump. I survived though I thought my eyeballs may have temporarily exited the back of my head, and I had blurry vision for a minute or so as I dangled from the bridge. After that 5 of us hiked around the other side of the falls for a soaking like you couldn't believe. I was even wet under my rain gear. It is one of the most beautiful sights I have seen. The fall stretch on for a few hundred yards and are so powerful it's like you are in the middle of a raincloud or hurricane. Now if that wasn't exciting enough, as we walked through the jungle like terrain, we were only 50 feet from the exit when we saw a cute large baboon (don't be fooled people, they are evil, evil creatures) munching on some nuts in a plastic bag that he had stolen from some poor tourist. He was just a foot from the walkway, so as we were passing towards him we stopped for a photo and some quick video since he was so preoccupied. Seconds later he turned on us and rushed at one of the woman scratching her leg. We all started yelling and screaming at it but it kept coming at us, standing up almost 3 feet tall. One of my buddies then went at it and started swinging his arms to scare the baboon away, but it started swinging at him, looking like a prize fighting match. It was actually quite frightening and finally after what seemed like forever, the baboon backed down followed by one of the guards shooting rocks with a slingshot at him. WOW!!! Wild day, right, well I am not quite done. A few hours later, I was taking off in a microlight/ultralight which for those that don't know is essentially like a go kart with wings and a propeller on back. I like to compare it to the freedom of being on a motorcycle. You are completely at one with the world around you but you are flying through the sky. My destination was following the Zambezi river over the top of the Victoria Falls. It is one of the most amazing things I have ever done. I was crapping in my pants, but was completely exhilarated as we floated around seeing the power of mother nature. On the way back, my pilot was pointing out elephants, hippos and crocodiles oh, my!!! Don't worry folks, I have video and photographic coverage of all of these activities, coming to a theater near you. Just an amazing day and probably untoppable for awhile, at least, though I did go on a rhino walk this morning which involved a walking safari with 4 others, a guide and an armed guard with an AK47 which is mandatory on all walking safaris (though as our guide told us, is not really effective against rhinos and elephants, but great against human poachers which was the original intent). We walked about 1/2 kilometer to where the rhino was grazing in field and literally walked to within 15 feet of an amazingly large white rhino which weighs a few tons and as our guide told us run faster than Usain Bolt in a 50 meter sprint. A little disconcerting, but we survived intact and followed him for about 30 minutes or so. It was incredible. Ok, that's enough for now, been on the computer too long and my bladder is about to spontaneously combust. Onto Botswana tomorrow. Take care.