I need to stay awake until at least midnight. I didn’t sleep at all last night, then slept from 11 am to 6 pm, at which point the other volunteers woke me up to watch the wedding – streamed from Ontario – of two former volunteers.
Then Tim and Helen (the couple from the UK) and I walked to Spar and I got a small order (4 bites) of sushi, and a peach that had no flavour. I wasn’t terribly hungry but thought ahead and bought cookies…I mean, biscuits, Grapetiser, plums, and some chocolate – for dinner in the wee morning hours, just in case. Actually, maybe I’ll start on that chocolate now. Since I have to make myself stay up for four hours, I figured it’s a good time to get caught up.
I’m still in the transition bubble right now. I know I’m in Africa, but I still have moments where I realize I’m in Africa. I’m in Africa. That’s crazy. Tomorrow I’m planning to go to service at Mariannhill, where I taught phonics last time but have never been on a Sunday. Supposedly they have the best singing of all the local ecclesias. : )
Tonight I’ve been thinking about my last few days in Richmond, and all the amazing people I’ve come to know. Here are some pictures from my last few days.
[I was sleep-deprived, but Becky wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t post this picture. She doesn’t believe that she’s my favourite person.]
On Monday night, we had a going away dinner pre-Bible class. I was in severe pain from my back, so I had taken some pills and pretty much stayed confined to a chair. It was still a good evening, with some nice memories made.
[Truly a horrific picture of me, mostly due to my condition, but Wayne’s another of my favourite people, so I’m posting it.]
[Got to meet up with a much-missed cousin the day before I left.]
[I’m really going to miss these guys, two of my housemates for the past couple of months.]
[Aunt Betty got this cake for me at Tuesday night class. She didn’t want to be in the picture at first because she was about to cry. She and I have bonded over similar backgrounds and opinions on stuff. I’m going to miss her a lot. <3]
[It’s weird to have “leaving for Africa” traditions, but Sharon and I have this one – going to Starbucks and drawing things on our cups (that’s Africa and the US, in case you couldn’t tell).]
I’m planning to Skype into more classes this time. The timing isn’t great (2:30 am), but I want to “go to” Monday and Tuesday night class at least once a month (I could try Wednesday night class as well, but it’s mostly old people and I’m not sure how Skyping would work). The other day I realized Skyping into Sunday school would work out really well – it’s a small class, full of my peeps, and it’s at a decent hour. I can also watch the Chapel’s service, which is streamed online every Sunday. More Skyping in general is definitely on the itinerary this time.
The Flight
After the visa debacle, the rest of the trip preparations and the flights went relatively smoothly. My visa was ready on the Friday before I left, so I drove to pick it up in DC – through torrential downpours, tornado warnings, and random trees lying across the interstate – because I was afraid something would go wrong if they over-nighted it. That was the first time I’ve been in a big city since Durban, and I realized that even after two months I was, as a pedestrian, still confused about which way the cars were coming from. I also never re-adjusted to being able to safely have my phone in my hand while walking, and found that in DC I was overly-observant when someone walked too close to it. By the time I come back from Africa this time I’ll probably be completely paranoid.
I had some moments of serious doubt as I sat on the plane on Wednesday. They were having to de-ice the wings, so I had too much time to think.
Last Facebook post pre-flight:
• The flight attendants like my “eish” shirt.
• There’s a male attendant leaning on my seat right now, as I angle my phone away from him. I had to say, “Uh, that’s my seat,” for him to move originally and he’s just hanging out now. He also asked me if my pillow was a pillow. Yes. Yes, it is.
• An obnoxious lady behind me in security shoved my bin through just as I tossed my phone and a used tissue into it. When it came through the other side, the tissue was in her bin, on top of her coat. Hehe.
• So far, the two seats next to me are empty! 20 minutes to go!
• I guess it would be pretty embarrassing to change my mind now…
The following conversation is typical of my thought process during those last few moments, when I actually did consider getting off the plane:
As soon as they dimmed the lights to take off, I started crying. Not just sniffling, but full-out sobs that were only (mostly) disguised because of the noise of the engine. Luckily, I was on the aisle, and the two seats in between me and the other woman on the row stayed empty. She kept looking at me sympathetically, but fortunately she neither tried to initiate verbal contact nor called for a flight attendant to remove me.
I got it together pretty quickly, and I was able to sleep quite a bit more than usual on this flight. When I say more than usual, I mean maybe 20 minutes – off and on – during the seven hour flight. Oh, by the way, guess what happens if you take your phone off airplane mode and try to use the internet? Nothing.
I usually have severe ear pain on the descent so I have to start taking decongestants the day before and take them every 3-4 hours before and during the flight. This, in combination with “Earplanes,” little cork-screw-looking ear plugs that I wear for take-off and landing, keep things pretty functional. This time I had the added issue of the back pain that never got really bad, thankfully; I finally broke down and took a pain pill once I realized I wouldn’t have to get off the plane in Dakar (where we had a quick stop for the crew to change, but most of the passengers stayed on).
One of the most awesome things I’ve ever seen was the view of the ocean meeting the land when we took off from Dakar. I could see way down into the water and see the edge of the continent. It looked like a Google earth view. I wish I’d had a window seat and hadn’t had to gawk creepily. All of what I could see of Dakar looked really intriguing – strange trees and some kind of statue in the distance.
On the next flight, to Johannesburg, the seat next to me stayed empty. I took full advantage of this by contorting myself into all kinds of strange positions. The most comfortable was with my back on the outside armrest and my feet on the tray table of the seat next to me. I didn’t sleep much, but watched a few movies – which I usually can’t focus on when I’m flying.
I got really excited when I saw that this was one of the possible drink choices…
…and when I realized my stewardess was Zulu, so I got to say, “ngiyabonga” for the first time in two months.
In the Jo’burg airport, I realized I remembered just enough about South Africa to be dangerous. I kind of remembered to pass on the left when walking, but not enough to keep from getting confused and almost smacking into people – more so than if I had just passed confidently on the right. I ate at Wimpy’s, and what I wanted to order was a, “chicken fillet sandwich.” In America, this would would be pronounced, “Fil A” (as in, Chick Fil A, obviously). But I know in SA they call steak, “fillet,” and they pronounce the “t.” Oh, the confusion. Finally, I went with, “I’ll have this.” “Okay, the chicken ‘fillET’?” the waitress asked. Got it. The “t” is always pronounced here. I did remember to ask for a serviette instead of a napkin, and tomato sauce instead of ketchup. (I’ve never gotten a decent answer to the question, “So what do you call actual tomato sauce?”)
Someone warned me last time I was in Jo’burg that the porters are highly aggressive. They approach you and try to commandeer your luggage so you’ll give them a tip. I can never tell if they’re even airport employees. Luckily, I was fully prepared this time, and kept repeating, “I got it,” to each one who approached. Then they follow you and ask you what gate number and what time your flight leaves. How does me telling you what time my flight leaves warrant a tip?
I had several sentimental moments on the journey. In South Africa (and apparently other countries, but not the US, to my knowledge) the Cokes say, “Share a Coke with” and then they have a name – here, most of them are Zulu names.
At Wimpy’s, the Coke I ordered said, “Share a Coke with Kyle.” Really? I thought. You’re going to cry because the Coke says your brother’s name? Your brother? Get it together. I managed not to make a fool of myself in Wimpy’s over a Coke. I did tear up a little when I stepped out onto the South African soil (or pavement) for the first time again.
When I got to the Durban airport, no one was there. Not a big deal. Until I realized I’d never actually gotten confirmation from either of the people I sent my itinerary to, and didn’t have any way of contacting anyone, unless it was through wifi. But Matt was surely following my escapades on Facebook, and would come get me. I had presumptuously posted on his wall, “If you’re picking me up from the airport, I’m going to need Kleenex and Dr. Pepper.”
I finally wandered outside, trying to re-acclimate to the fact that I was back in a place I have to keep my guard up all the time. I forgot how exhausting that is. Matt showed up after just a few minutes, barefoot of course, and with no Dr. Pepper. (It wasn’t explicitly said, but I hope he’s aware that he still owes me one.) And from there, life in South Africa resumed as before.
Monkey Update
Not ten minutes after posting the blog about the monkey this morning, and still thinking about the possibility that he might sneak in my room for treats, I heard a noise at the window. Something was clearly trying to get in. I grabbed a pillow and used it to push the curtain back (and to have as a potential shield) and gasped a little. It was a monkey all right. : )
This kid is known as Squishy (I get confused and often refer to him at Squirmy, Squealy, and all kind of things). He was one of the first kids I met here (back in the bird park adventure my first Sunday in the country).
I said, “Oh, I thought you were a monkey. There was a monkey out here.” Kid was about as excited as if I’d told him a squirrel had wandered by. (Ten seconds later and he would have been through those bars. He was looking for a book he thought was in my room.)
Then, a couple of hours later, I saw the shadow of a little hand behind my curtain. I softly called my little friend’s name, assuming he was trying to sneak up on me. At the same time, I got up and walked to the window. I casually pulled back the curtain and then said, out loud to myself, “Oh, that really was a monkey.” I didn’t have time to photograph him, but he was sitting there, under my window. He just looked at me solemnly for a moment and then wandered off. Yeah, now I might take that no feeding the monkeys thing more seriously. Maybe….I think I could take him. He approached a few more times throughout the morning. We’ll see if I wake up tomorrow…
Then This
So, in case you were wondering why there’s an envelope labelled “Jezebel” stuck to my ceiling with band-aids, here’s that story.
There is a hole in the ceiling of the room I’m temporarily being housed in, right above my bed – presumably, due to similar shape and size, that light fixture has been moved. And you know, being that this is Africa and all, I find that hole a little disconcerting. Black mambas are big but not so big that they can’t come slithering through a hole that size.
But I knew logically that many other people have slept in this room, and that the odds are pretty good that my cause of death won’t be listed as “suffocated in her sleep by a snake that came out of a hole in the ceiling.” So I left it. For the first night.
The second night, during which I actually didn’t sleep at all because of jet lag…actually, this was 9:30 in the morning but it still felt like part of that night. It was a couple of hours after the monkey incident.
Anyway, I was lying in bed when something poked its head out. Then back in. I’m pretty sure this actually happened. I assumed it was a bug – probably a plain old, non-exotic cockroach – but I didn’t get a good look at it. I didn’t even scream. But my fear was that at some point I would wake up to something falling on top of me. So I did this…which pretty much guarantees that I will.
[Improvising is one of my specialties…I get it from my mom.]
The reason it says Jezebel…the Richmond Chapel sent me a care package last time I was here, and there were a bunch of individual cards in it. Because of the initial confusion about whether my name was Jessica or Jennifer, one person (ahem, Casey Opitz) just simplified things by giving me this esteemed title, and it has stuck. (Wow, I didn’t even do that on purpose!)
[Update: Upon seeing this on Facebook, he was highly offended that I used his card for such purposes. Don’t worry, it was just the envelope – I threw the card away months ago. ; )]
Well, it’s only been two hours, but I might go ahead and go to bed. I’ve given the other volunteers permission to drag me out of bed, if necessary. Sleep or not, it all starts tomorrow!
Next Comes Africa 