Lion's Head

2/25

This morning we planned to hike up Table Mountain (meaning Jim was going to hike and I was going to take the cablecar up), but the excursion was canceled as the mountain was socked in with dense fog and it was too windy to run the cablecars safely.

As an alternate, we were offered a hike up Lion's Head, which, although right next to Table Mountain, had no fog and no wind. I was assured by our guide that this hike was a "walk in the park" and that I would have no trouble – Hah! Famous last words….

Jim and I were the only non-students (read old folks) on this trip. We were accompanied by an African guide whose mother was an herbalist, and he stopped to tell us the medicinal use of many of the plants growing on the mountain (which gave me an occasional chance to catch my breath). He shared that his parents had been sheep farmers before having to relocate to the townships under apartheid.

We climbed to a fork in the path where the kids had the option to pull themselves up the sheer face of the mountain using chains – I opted to take the path around and meet the more adventurous climbers at the next rise. One of the boys didn't have a backpack, and was carrying his lunch and water, so good ol' Karen offered to put his stuff in her pack (like I needed the extra weight…)

Two of the young girls gave up halfway up and went back down to wait in the bus. The rest of us (yes, including ME) made it to the top, where the view was 360 degrees and spectacular! We could see down the coast toward the Cape of Good Hope (which is populated by cute little penguins) and out to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison. We could see the high rises of the city and the townships beyond. It was worth the sweat!

Behind us on the trail was a group of young Africans, singing and shouting as they made their way up the mountain. When they arrived on top, they joined hands and began to pray. One of our group, Carl, struck up a conversation with one of the young men, and received an invitation to visit their church in the District Six township. The next morning, Carl hailed a cab and set out on his own for the church. He was the only white face there, and was warmly welcomed and drawn in to participate in the praise service, which was held in Zulu and translated into English (Carl did not think the translation was just for him, but that they always alternated languages). He said it was the best experience he had in South Africa.

Kagga Kamma

2/20

We got up bright and early for the 5 hour bus ride out to the Kagga Kamma Game Reserve, where we will spend the next three days. The day was sunny and beautiful, and the view out the windows changed from urban to suburban to miles and miles of carefully trellised grape vines (wine production for export to Britain is a big industry here). We knew we were truly out of the city when we spied a family of baboons right on the side of the road, and the road turned from pavement, to gravel, and, eventually, to packed dirt.

The Kagga Kamma Reserve is a place where, until very recently (1990s), some of the native Bushmen (Kalahari Bushmen) made their home. The landscape is one of sandy desert with sparse greenery, interrupted by jagged outcroppings of rock. It is in a group of these rocks that our cabins were to be found, disguised to look like the rocks surrounding them. Without the reflective glint of the window, we were hard pressed to see the cabins at all! There is not a tree or any shade to speak of, and the temperature is hot hot hot – over 100 degrees every day, but turning cooler as soon as the sun set.

There were 23 of us, and, after a welcome lunch (where we were joined by a curious baboon who watched us from the rocks above), we cooled off at the pool, then piled into three open jeeps and set off on a game drive. At Kagga Kamma, there are no predators, but plenty of zebra, elands, bontebok, and ostriches, which we saw in abundance. Our guide then drove us to some taller rock formations suitable for scrabbling up, from which we all had a "sundowner" drink and watched a gorgeous sunset.

Supper was held outside, with tables set up around a bonfire (now needed for warmth) and served buffet style from big cauldrons set on the fire. We enjoyed a game pie containing meat from wildebeest, ostrich and eland, which was delicious (I can see Rhonda wrinkling up her nose as I write this!) and no, it did not taste like chicken! Our cabin keys were attached to flashlights so we could find our way back in the dark, and we were warned that the generators would be shut off at 11pm, so there would be no more electricity until morning. Early to bed and early to rise, Jim and I never saw 11pm…

There was a lunar eclipse the next morning at 4:30am, and Jim got up to photograph it. After breakfast (standard fare, unless you want to know what the sausages were made of…) we went back out in the jeeps to see the Bushmen rock paintings. Jim was especially interested in these, and we took lots of pictures. The paintings date back about 27,000 years, although some were more recently made. They show the Bushmen with muscular legs, carrying spears or packs on their backs. The women are depicted with "big caboose", which is considered a sign of desirability and fertility (baby got back??). Some of the more recent paintings depicted Europeans as stick figures with big round bellies and their hands in their pockets, doing nothing! We saw hundreds of depictions of people and animals, and were told there are over 28,000 catalogued in the area. The easiest ones to see are those that were painted under a ledge or out of the direct sun. Our guide, Jacko, told us that if we touched one, he was allowed to shoot us – we were very careful!

We gathered again at 5pm for a two hour hike until sundown, which took us scrabbling up lots more rocks and enabled us to see lots more paintings. Three of the students just had to scale every rock they came to, and separated themselves from the group. Jacko had to go back for them after the sun went down – not a good place to be lost in the dark – but the story ended happily and they got back safely.

After another wonderful supper around the fire, we trooped up to the highest point, where an observatory is set up with a powerful telescope. We located the Southern Cross, Alpha and Beta Centuri, many constellations and looked at the craters of the full moon. A spectacular night!

We got back on the bus the next morning after another fine breakfast for the long ride home. We stopped for lunch at a winery in Stellenbosch, where those of us who can drink wine (that's everybody but me) got to sample different wines and comment on their "nose" and "oakiness" (how silly is that?). South Africans are not big wine drinkers, so most of the wine made here is exported to Britain. All in all, a wonderful trip!

Postcard from Cape Town, South Africa

2/19/08

Table Mountain – it's huge! …flat on top, as its name implies, and it's the first thing you see when pulling into Cape Town's Victoria Harbor. The harbor area is gold and blue, clean and inviting, with upscale Victoria Mall, street singers, players and dancers entertaining while pitching their CDs, blue skies, perfect temperatures and a great place to be a tourist.

There are eleven languages spoken here, but the major ones are Afrikaans (sounds like Dutch), English (with a British accent), Zulu and Khosa (the language that has tongue clicks represented by the letters ,K and X). The most universally spoken is Afrikaans, but the national anthem is in all four languages. The monetary unit is the rand, which exchanges for about 7.5 rand to the dollar. The prices in the city are comparable to the US.

Thanks to apartheid (which became law here in 1948) and the convoluted rules that accompanied it, people here are classified as Afrikaaners (white), black (African), or colored (includes Indians, Malays, Chinese, and any interbred combinations of the above). Unlike Brazil, the colonials here imported their slaves and servants from Malaysia and India as well as from other parts of Africa, so there are a wide variety of cultures here. Slavery was abolished in the 1830s, following the British example.

On our first day, Jim took 19 students to visit a Psychiatric Hospital outside Cape Town, so we got to see a little of the area surrounding the city. The townships, where the colored peoples were relocated during apartheid, are as poor looking as you would imagine, and there are shantytowns very reminiscent of the favelas in Brazil, where rural people who want to move to the city live until they can improve their lot by getting a job. We were told that, unfortunately, people whose only skills are farming or herding sheep don't have an easy time acquiring the skills needed to survive in the city.

The hospital dates back to the days when mental patients lived long term at the center, so it has acres of grounds and lots of ward buildings. Around the perimeter is an electrified barbed wire fence, which we were told is not to keep the patients in, but to keep the gangs - who wish to steal drugs and methadone – out. The doctor who hosted our visit is an Afrikaaner who is passionate about his work, and is very upfront about the amount of post traumatic stress caused by the civil unrest in the country. He let the students interact with the psychotic patients (a no-no due to HIPPA laws in the US) and the students rated the trip "outstanding".

On Our Way to Africa

2/13

The day after leaving Brazil, we had supper with our adopted shipboard kids Mallory and Porter, and exchanged Brazilian adventures. Porter hopped a flight to Rio de Janeiro, and spent his week relaxing on the beach at Ipanema, and Mallory joined a group that independently booked a trip to the Iguacu Falls (unbelievably beautiful, and much bigger than Niagra Falls). However, while still in Salvador, both kids got mugged, so they did not have glowing memories of their days in Bahia. The pervading smell of urine was also mentioned…

Now we are at sea for nine days, as we cross the Atlantic, headed for Capetown, South Africa. Our South American focus has now turned to African focus in Global Studies, and today we learned to sing the South African national anthem (which I already knew, courtesy of Paul Simon's Graceland DVD…) This gives me a chance to catch up on my reading, journaling, and sorting of pictures while Jim holds classes. I'm afraid if I don't keep up daily, I will forget where I've been and what I've seen…

The Atlantic Ocean is even bigger than you think, and a lovely bright blue now that we are away from civilization. I look daily for dolphins, whales, or any form of life from the deep, but have yet to spy anything in all this blue water.

2/14/08

Happy Valentine's Day! On ship today is Neptune Day, where the kids celebrate having a day off from class, and honor King Neptune by shaving their heads bald. Yes, this means girls as well as guys… This is an SAS tradition that takes place after we have crossed the Equator – the kids have been looking forward to it for weeks!

We sailed into an impressive storm last night, where the clouds touched down and met the sea, and the rain came down in buckets. Everything on board is rocking and rolling today as the whitecaps hit the ship and the horizon moves up and down impressively. Jim's got his sealegs, but I stayed in bed all morning. The Captain informed us that on our 1 – 10 Rough Sailing scale, today is about a 6. I don't mind the swaying when I'm horizontal – sort of like sleeping in a hammock – but when I try to walk and careen into walls like a billiard ball, I get discouraged.

We did our best to hold onto our plates and glassware at supper, while the silverware flew off the table with every swell. Just like at Busch Gardens, the kids would raise both arms above their heads when an impressive wave dipped the ship to one side and we could see only ocean on one side and only sky on the other, like they were riding the roller coaster with no hands… We had to hold onto the mattress to avoid being tumbled out of bed, and it took a long time to get to sleep. When I awoke, my internal soundtrack was playing, "Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham, O rock-a my soul!"

2/16/08

Happy to say that the sea is now back to normal. Today is the day we are invited to dine with the Captain, who is from Yugoslavia and has an unpronounceable name. We got duded up in our finest (yes, I even wore a skirt!) and met the crew for cocktails, then proceeded to the dining hall, which was empty of kids at 8pm. The tables were set with real linens and there were waiters everywhere.

Guess who got to sit next to the Captain – me! We talked about fuel prices ($32,000.00 per day to propel the ship) and environmental regulations (we dump our "grey water" from showers and sinks in the ocean once we are 12 miles out, but the sewage and sludge is carried to port, where it costs upwards of $80,000.00 per port to have it pumped and processed. We are a "very green" ship, exceeding all environmental regulations.

2/18/08

We have been setting our clocks ahead by one hour almost every other day while at sea, and are feeling sleep deprived at losing that one hour over and over again. We are now 7 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time. Today we had a pre-port meeting to learn what to expect in Capetown, including some basic words in Afrikaans, how to tell a leopard from a cheetah from the shape of their spots (do you think I'm going to get that close?) and the admonition that the crime rate in Capetown is even higher than that of Salvador, and to never trust a Nigerian (their highjinks are not limited to internet scams – evidently ripping folks off is part of their national pride…) - my apologies to anyone of Nigerian extraction... Well, back to grading papers for me…

Porter and Mallory

Cachoeira

2/9

For our last day in Bahia, we took a trip out of the city to Cachoeira (Cash o AIR a), a little town with a lively open market, lovely 16^th century architecture, and a rural economy. The market is open every other day, as most houses don’t have refrigeration, and features everything from Hello Kitty schoolbags, every kind of fruit you can imagine (we tasted some lovely jackfruit) to fresh fish, shrimp, chicken and all parts of beef (anybody need some hoof?)

Most people work on cooperative farms, growing food for their families and food to sell at the market. We visited a house and walked through the backyard garden – in a yard not bigger than many in Chesapeake, they were growing bananas, guavas, coffee, cacao, herbs, and running a small chocolate business in the front room. The chocolate was VERY rich and oh so good – you really didn’t have to eat it, just inhale the aroma! We observed that almost every house, no matter how poor, had a TV antenna. Our guide, Frederico, told us that a TV and a CD player (for popular music) were the first “must have” items for every family, even before furniture, clothing, or refrigeration.

We watched local tobacco being hand-rolled into the finest of cigars, and got to have a toke (sorry, 60s jargon!) on a hand-rolled cigarette made with fresh aromatic tobacco. It’s easy to see why our ancestors got hooked – it smelled as good as the chocolate!

We visited the chapel of the Sisters of the Good Death, a women’s group that originated over 200 years ago for the purpose of providing decent funerals for slaves, or negotiating their freedom. The group maintains a Catholic chapel, and also practices Candomble. The Sisters, once very powerful, are now down to 20 aged members, as there is no interest among the young people in joining a group which no longer has a primary purpose to serve. We met one of the youngest remaining members who, at 73, maintains the chapel and provides a link to history. We were told that after the TV series “Roots” became popular back in the 80s, many Hollywood actors and Martin Luther King’s daughter Barbara came to visit and donated to the Sisters, but they know the end of their service is coming soon.

Happy to report that all the students made it back to the ship in time for our departure - we had a welcome back barbeque on the pool deck, with a reggae band and a special treat – ice cream! There will be no living with us when we get home – we are getting soooo spoiled!

Candomble

2/8

Today we visited the Afro Brazilian Museum to learn more about the African culture that is alive and well in Brazil. Our guide, Marcos, explained the Candomble (Can dom BLAY) beliefs to us, with its 24 orixa (or eh SHA) spirits that each control a different aspect of your body and your life. (In Africa there are over 400 orixa, but here they thought 24 were enough.) The spirits have the power to cure, and also to kill… During the time when Candomble was outlawed in Brazil, the people continued to practice their beliefs covertly by giving each orixa the name of a Christian saint. We were taken to a village where we visited several Candomble houses (there is a different house for each spirit), and asked questions of the people, who were all dressed in white. These folks speak of the spirits in a very concrete way – they hear them, see them, are possessed by them and listen to their advice when making decisions every day….

The Church of Miracles

2/7

Today we ventured north to visit Nosso Senhor do Bonfim (The Church of Our Lord of the Good End), built in 1745, which is the place where pilgrims come daily, dressed all in white, to ask for miracles and healing. As soon as we emerged from the taxi, we were besieged by vendors trying to sell us rosaries, saint cards and blessings. Everyone who comes to the church receives a colored ribbon, tied around the wrist with three knots; with each knot representing a prayer request. You must continue to wear the ribbon until it falls off on its own, or your prayer will not be answered.

It is a small church, not as grand as others we've seen, with lots of gold leaf and frescoed ceilings. An anteroom off the main church is a room filled with pictures of people who came for healing or were healed. The ceiling of this room is hung with hundreds of plastic arms, legs and heads, representing requests for healing of specific body parts.

When we emerged from the church, Mario (the guy who tied the ribbons on our wrists) let us know without a word of English that he was waiting for payment from us for performance of this service. He followed us around, making sure none of the other vendors went near us, as we were "his". And yes, we eventually gave him the money….

In the afternoon, we went back to the market (mercado) to give serious consideration to the trinkets for sale. There were lots of necklaces and bracelets (Eliese – no beads, just seeds already made into jewelry…), percussion instruments painted the yellow, black and blue of the country's flag, lace and table cloths, the obligatory T shirts, and very scary-looking wood carvings of African spirits, beautifully intricate.

A Ride in the Park

2/6

This morning we assembled for our bus ride to Pituacu (Pit wa SU) Park. We passed through some amazing slums (amazing in that they were still standing and that people actually live in them). Our guide told us that the government here has no building codes or oversight over what is built, so people just build their own places, and add on or add up another level as needed. Electricity, water and sewers are definitely optional.

Pituacu Park is an ecological reserve that is part of the city. There is a 9 mile path (15 km) around a central lagoon, and it was arranged that we would ride bikes around the lagoon and study the ecology. Here was our group: a biologist to point things out in Portuguese, an interpreter to tell us what he just said, 30 or so students with a handful of professors, two armed guards on bikes riding our flanks, and a military police car with three armed soldiers bringing up the rear. From time to time the military police would jump out of their car and run to question any poor native walking along, or picking some fruit.

We saw little monkeys in the trees, red ginger, hibiscus, bananas and many flowers I cannot name, strange looking birds, and many kinds of exotic fruit trees. I have now tasted a cashew fruit (there is a big yellow fruit that grows under each nut – smells bad, but tastes very good) jackfruit, and several other little fruits that did not translate into English. Especially good was one that looked like an acorn and was mostly pit, but had a very sweet membrane that you chewed off before throwing the rest away.

So now, who has been waiting for one of Karen's famous near-death adventures? Well, today was my first in quite some time! About 12 km into the ride, (now remember, we are at the EQUATOR, it is HOT and humid, and we've been riding and stopping and riding in the BROILING SUN for several hours), yours truly goes into a very ladylike swoon (didn't actually faint, so no damage done) and has to be packed into the police car with the nice men with guns for the rest of the ride. Meanwhile, several others with more birthdays to their credit than I kept riding bravely onward… I was the only casualty of the morning…. How embarrassing!

Postcard from Salvador de Bahia

2/5

Jim jumped out of bed at 5am to watch the ship pull into the harbor. The sunrise was beautiful. Our first look at Bahia showed a less than pristine dock area with tin roofs. We were, however, in the company of four other cruise ships that were docking today for Carnaval! (Am I the only one who didn't know that Carnaval translates as "Goodbye meat"? Think of Lent starting tomorrow….)

After one more lecture to the students (no flip-flops, no skirts, no tight shirts, be prepared to be groped, give up your valuables without protest, don't drink the water, stay in groups, wear sun screen, no earrings unless you are prepared to lose a lobe, etc.), we were cleared to leave the ship by about 10am.

Bahia does not accept American dollars, so our first task was to change some money. The cruise terminal has one money exchange booth, with a line that stretched around the building. We were told that all the banks were closed today, so we got on the line. After an hour's wait, we were able to procure some reais (at a less than optimal rate, $1.00 to 1.6 reais), then were ready to explore the city.

Bahia consists of a Lower City which is the business district, and in the hills above, the Upper City which is accessed by a huge municipal elevator, and contains the historic district, churches, and the main square called the Pelhorino. Pelhorino translates as the Whipping Post, and is where many slaves were tortured and sold back in the day when Bahia was one of the major slave markets. We learned that only about 15% of slaves ended up in North America, with most remaining in the Caribbean and in South America. North American slaves were nurtured as valuable and replaced through reproduction, while South American slaves were worked to death in the sugar cane fields and usually did not last more than 10 years. Sobering thought…. Bahia has the most African population of the cities of Brazil, and the religion is a mix of Catholicism and Condomble. (More about this later.)

We took the elevator up to the Old City, and spent the afternoon looking at handicrafts and many beautiful old churches. I'm happy to say that the handicrafts here are NOT made in China! Our lack of knowledge of Portuguese hit us hard when it was time for lunch, so we ended up paying too much in a tourist restaurant for what turned out to be a chicken sandwich and French fries (frango = chicken). Portuguese looks kind of like Spanish in print, but all the letters are pronounced differently (d = je, r = h, x = sh), so when you hear it, you have no idea of what is being said. Unlike other places that wish to attract tourist dollars, Bahians have not learned English. A challenge!

Many of our shipmates paid $300. or more to be part of a camarote – a group with a designated place to stand and watch the Carnaval. Those who did not wish to pay for a place stayed on the street, and are called "popcorn" because they jump up and down and get jostled around like popcorn in a skillet. We did not do either of these things, returning to the safety of the ship for the evening. However, we can report that the crowds were many, the music was loud and a good time was had by most. There were several mugging stories from the students, but as far as we know, no earlobes were lost!

Heading to Brazil

Tuesday 1/29

 When we awoke this morning, Puerto Rico was far behind us, and the sea was smooth as glass.  At breakfast with Theresa and Sam, we watched flying fish jump up and skim across the water like little birds, and then saw a school of dolphins leaping through our wake.

 Global Studies featured a UVA professor, originally from Spain, who now lives in Brazil.  He gave a short history of Brazil, which makes me want to learn more about how the country evolved as a mix of indigenous people, African slaves and Europeans.  I thought we were landing in Salvador, but everyone refers to it as Bahia.  Guess I'll have to learn why!

 Wednesday, 1/30/08

 This morning, the wind is stronger and the sea choppier – we elected in yesterday's calm not to use any seasick remedies, but I got a bit queasy this morning and came back for a patch.  How did Horatio Hornblower get by without a patch?

 Today and tomorrow are "Add/Drop" class days, and I volunteered to work in the Registrar's office in the afternoons to help the student's optimize their schedules.   And you worried I would have nothing to do!

 Actually, there is something scheduled for every hour of the day and evening on ship – every morning is Global Studies, to learn about the music, politics, religion and culture of the area we are next visiting, "Community College" lectures every evening, language classes for the port we are approaching (just starting to learn Portuguese), yoga before supper and meditation after supper.  Every night at 9pm, for those still awake, is a choice of two movies that are related to the culture we are studying.

 In addition, the Lifelong Learners meet every afternoon at 5 for drinks and stuff, and we've been asked to "adopt" up to 4 students who are homesick and want to commune with the occasional grownup.  Each student group has at least one evening party to which the faculty is encouraged to attend, and….  Well, you get the idea.  If I allowed myself to be talked into all the opportunities aboard, I'd need a vacation to recuperate from my vacation!

 Thursday, 1/31/08

 I opened my email today to news that one never wishes to hear.  A fellow choir member, Roy, whom I left two weeks ago in seemingly perfect health, is dead.  I'm missing him.

 Friday, 2/1

 We will be arriving at Bahia on the last day of Carnival (Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday).  The city will have been partying hard for several days, with thousands of drinking, reveling, pickpocketing, grabbing, kissing, frenzied partygoers dancing in the streets.  We've been advised to remove all jewelry and watches, not to carry bags, cameras, or anything we ever wish to see again.  We have to get local money from a bank, but have been advised not to carry our debit cards.  What's a tourista to do?  I'm thinking we stay on board until things settle down on Wednesday – what do you think?

Saturday, 2/2

 Happy Groundhog Day!  Today we are very close to the Equator, the sun is shining, and the kids have a day off from classes.  The dining hall was empty this morning, so I'm guessing that kids will sleep in whenever they get the chance. 

 At 14:30, we officially crossed over the Equator.  The ship's horn let out a long blast that was almost drowned out by the cheers of the students.  Yahoo!  We're in the southern hemisphere!  I'm going to go see if the water swirls down the drain the opposite way!