Routine is enough to tire me out today

House was a mixed bag today.  We played with the kids right away and learned a rhyme-singing game, well.. for the most part.  Some of the words were really garbled, because it was in English, and sometimes the kids just say the sounds without knowing what they mean.  So, the song was something about little girl, little girl wake up and there was a wash your dirty face part.  It was cute to see the kids standing in a circle singing and holding hands.  It was quite peaceful for a change.

The kids went to the playschool and we started to paint a room.  We were one brush short, so I went to the kitchen to chop a cabbage.  Then I went back to the room to switch with someone and paint the second coat.   I spent some more time in the play school too, and it seems that the group is making progress with the kids.  They kids now listen to us when we say, “No,” “Stop,” or give them a time out.  These are really big steps, because previously they would often laugh at us or ignore us.  We also took some time in the storage room today to see what resources we have to plan for all of the kids next week, because the older ones will be home from school for an end of term break.  I am excited to meet the older kids, but it will be utter chaos.

After service we had class which was let out early because it we finished and the room was so hot and humid none of us could stand it anymore.  I walked home, stopping at the fruit and vegetable stand and Super Spar to get some groceries.  I came home, made dinner, and prepared a presentation for lit tomorrow with the rest of the flat.  It was a pretty routine day, and I’m exhausted. 

I spent some time this evening looking at WWOOF (worldwide opportunities in organic farming) options in SA for the second half of spring break.  I sent a few emails in hopes that they will accept a volunteer for only a few days.  I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. 

Peace out.

Dudley Tito township jazz concert

The small shed that Dudley and his band played in.  We had to rotate inside in shifts as there were only four chairs inside.  Thank goodness that sound travels.

Dudley is playing sax on the far right. Then there was a flutist, keyboard player, drummer, bass and guitar.

The bass player who reminds me of Hobie is on the left.

South African Hobie

The walls were covered in flyers for shows, newspaper clippings, obituaries, stories celebrating jazz, and more.

This vocalist was amazing.  Her first song was "A New York State of Mind" and I was in a trance listening.  She has a real presence at the microphone, and her little girl watched her while playing a coffee-can bass.

What a cool homemade toy!

She stole her mom's shoes.  How adorable. 

The band

This morning at House we chose some paint colors for the bathrooms, looked through a huge storage area containing all of the crafts, educational tools, outdoor toys, and anything we could imagine to do with the kids, peeled some vegetables, and played with the kids.  I was most excited about all of the resources that have been hiding away in the closet.  We were given permission to use the supplies as long as we return them.  Because Connie, the teacher, is only 1 against 17, she cannot do things like paints or activities that need more supervision.  She also struggles to have age-appropriate lessons for a group which is 2-5 years.  So, we hope to have some stations to accommodate each age group and plan a few lessons in the near future.  Next, I peeled and chopped some vegetables and went to the play school.  Most of the kids were at clinic today, so we had an almost 1:1 ratio with those who were left.

After House I quickly ate and went with our director, Bruce, and on other student to the home improvement store to get paint for next week.  After a few minutes devoted to some reading, we were picked up at Langerry at 2:45 for a concert in the townships.  Dudley Tito is a township jazz artist who still jams with groups.  We had a really great time listening to Dudley and his band.  I was amazed at their vocalists voice, and I was so grateful for  a fabulous concert showing the vitality in the townships.

Culture for Bruce and Norma

Today, I realized that I read every time we’re on a bus, so I don’t see the townships very much anymore.  Reading on the bus is valuable study time, but I often wonder if it is valuable enough to miss the sights around me.  I am afraid that I am becoming desensitized to the living conditions endured by the people in the townships. 

I really enjoyed myself at the concert today, but I couldn’t help but think how these musicians might live in another country.  It is a toss-up.  Township jazz has its roots in the apartheid.  Songs are inspired by relocation of people from their homes in cities into townships on the outskirts of town.  For instance, “Meadowlands” is about the relocation of black people from Johannesburg to the township now called Soweto (short for Southwest Township).  Apparently it was a meadow land.  Township jazz became a uniquely African product after the black bands were kicked out of white establishments.  Apart from its identity as the music of the struggle, township jazz artists are very talented be-bop players.  They can improvise very differently from the melody, so a good player must be masters of her or his instrument.  It is sad to think that legends of a musical genre live in townships.

I had to see township conditions close up again to remind me of their harshness.  One of the little girls had to use to restroom today, so she went to a building behind the house.  There is no plumbing or running water to have a flush toilet.  In addition, many of the band members were missing quite a few teeth, and even some of the children were missing adult teeth in the front of their mouths.  It must be very hard to eat while missing one’s two front teeth.  I was also surprised at the common attire of the band and vocalist, but I was so amazed by their talent.  I wish in this case, that talent meant success.

In Dudley’s heyday, he was required to work a job during the day in order to have a legitimate pass to be in the city.  Then he could stay and play music by night.  Musicians didn’t make enough money to live on, at least not black musicians in the heart of apartheid.  I don’t want to butter this up too much by saying that the band obviously enjoyed playing.  They loved what they were doing, but the space was so limited and the scene was so bleak in some ways.

I think of the man with the Swedish bass.  He reminded me of Dad’s old neighbor Hobie.  The man was always hooting at the female vocalist, just loving her sassy way of doing things.  Hobie is like that with Holly.  But the bass player was in a car accident and lost his leg.  I don’t often hear of that happening in the States.  So his friend sent him a Swedish bass that is smaller than a normal standing bass and can be played while sitting.  He didn’t have a proper case, so he wrapped it in a blanket and bungee cords.  He limped very badly, because his prosthetic leg did not fit very well.  Another example of how the talent of these musicians was not enough to improve their quality of life, whereas much less talented people in affluent countries make millions.  This is a sad truth.  I could say that their music fulfilled them and that was all they needed, but I bet affording health care and some dentistry, having a flush toilet, and not worrying about rampant crime every day could have made life a lot more enjoyable.

A local weekend

This weekend we hung around PE, and I couldn't be happier.  We chilled on the roof or beach in the warm sun, read for classes, and chilled. 

On Friday, we celebrated Becka's birthday at Coco de Mer, and then I went to bed early.  I got almost 11 hours of much-needed sleep after a long week.  On Saturday, I worked out in the morning and saw a volleyball net set up on the beach.  I was aching to go play, so I cut my run short and ran out there.  I played a few games of 2 on 2 with people my age and a bit older who go to PE College.  Apparently we will play them next weekend in our tournament.  I was so happy to make some new friends and play volleyball. 

Saturday afternoon I went with some of my flatmates to check out the Cathedral down town.  We heard from previous study-abroaders that it was beautiful.  The building was ok.  I know it is dangerous to compare rather than take things as they are, but I saw it as a less-grand version of Sacred Heart in Eau Claire.  I liked the gospel reading about the Samaritan woman at the well.  It has so many meanings, and a Jesuit who is the chaplain at University of Capetown spoke the sermon.  He was a likable character.  The church also congratulated one of the altar servers for earning her PhD in biochemistry.  It was a funny sensation when most of the servers in the states are young kids. 

After Mass, a friend Lauren, came over to the flat for dinner.  She brought her housemate, Chichi and another friend, Abby.  We had a fabulous time eating pasta, salad, and garlic bread on blankets on the roof looking up at the stars.  After dinner we socialized with the rest of the CSBSJU group in Langerry for a while and went to another flat a few buildings down to a small party there.  We came back around 11 and had girl talk with our guests for a while, and got in bed by 1.  It is so nice to finally have some South African friends after so many weeks of failed attempts.  At least we still have another half of the trip, although I am warned frequently that it will go very fast.

This morning, I ran to the grocery store to get some salad supplies for our group braai tonight and I walked back, stopped at Bargain Books to look for some South African cook books. I found a few titles that I'll check prices online, and decide which ones I want before I leave.  (haha, I am procrastinating writing a paper right now, and I just spent--some may say wasted-- about a half hour looking at cookbooks of the traditional African,. organic, from-the-farm, slow food revolution, etc categories.  What a food nerd =D  It paid off though because I found some of the ones I was looking for for cheaper and they ship free to the US ;) )



When I got back, I spent some more time writing my paper, helped to make the salad, and went for a dip in the ocean quickly before the sunlight ran out with Taylor and Steph, some Bennies on the trip.  I was so, so, so happy in the cool water, letting the waves roll by to shore.  That is about the craziest ride I think I ever want for the rest of my life.  No more roller coasters for me, just let me lay on the top of the water and time my floating so I don't get smacked by a breaking wave.  Today was one of the first times that I really enjoyed the salt water, and I think it was because the waves weren't hectic.  I was able to just relax and float around like I prefer to do in deeper fresh bodies of water. 

Culture for Bruce
Last night, Lauren had some great insight on life, with a memorable saying to boot.  I shared with her a conversation I had with the beach volleyball players Saturday afternoon.  They asked if I had a South African boyfriend yet.  I said no, so they asked if I was married.  I took it to mean that they assumed that every girl should have a boyfriend unless she's married.  Lauren kind of insinuated that for us who are traveling through, we could just date some of the volleyball guys if we wanted, and there is a social coming up that would be prime for introductions.  We asked her if she likes those guys and she explained that she won't date anyone associated with volleyball because she loves to play so much.  She doesn't want to be worried about impressing anyone while she plays or what she looks like while she;s playing.  She wants to devote all of her energy on the court to her passion for the sport.  She also said that when you date someone who everyone else on the team knows, it becomes gossipy and who even wants to think about what happens when the relationship ends.  She summed it up by saying, "I don't poop where I eat."  I love the saying, and I think I will be using it more often.  As far as looking for a relationship with a South African guy while I'm here.  I'm not hopeful or really eager to start that, contrary to some lofty thoughts before I arrived.  I am happy to just be me.  That's enough to figure out.

An update

This week was busy with exams and papers.  However, I think I am finally getting the food situation under control.  I made chicken, carrots and potatoes with a Thai peanut-coconut sauce which I was able to freeze most of.  I look forward to having the meat and then I don’t search for more food all night.  I’ve also been getting apples, because they don’t spoil easily.  And, I have a mango for dessert about once a week.  Previously I had been throwing a LOT of food away because it doesn’t keep, or it was spoiled when I brought it home, and I was only eating PB&J’s and baked beans or other kinda weird meals like that.  I never went hungry, but I really prefer to have fruits and veggies and a bit of variety in my meals.  Oh yea, I also discovered these great rolls at the store which are tasty and very cheap.  They are like a giant cinnamon roll, but they have spinach, cheese, sometimes ham, and tasty or “savory” things baked into them.  They are fittingly called “Savory rolls,” and a huge one only costs about a dollar (R7), and I can cut it into quarters to have with a meal.  It’s really good with a simple tuna salad for lunch.  Today I plan to make a carrot oat cake which I only need to buy one ingredient for, exciting!  Otherwise I just plan to write a paper and read on the roof because the sun is out today =D

Yesterday, I got home from class and worked on a paper and then ran and did a body circuit.  Last night, we went to Coco de Mer, a chic night club a block from Langerry.  It was Becka’s 21^st birthday, and her parents send a message to buy everyone two rounds of drinks.  So, we had two shots of liquid cocaine, a really, really sweet and tart bright blue shot.  We all dressed up and it was a fun time with the whole group.  I had the China Beach salad with cabbage, rice, prawns, pineapple, litchi, cucumbers, tomatoes, and a fabulous dressing (on the side, please) with a glass of the house Rosé wine.   Most of the Minnesotans had chicken cordon bleu, no surprise there.  The meals were all very cheap at about R50-60 ($8-9) in a beautiful black and white atmosphere with the suede and glossy alternating black stripes on the wall, funky but classy mirrors, and plush upholstered chairs with tall backs and no arms with a bold rose design on them.  

This is my flatmates and me after dinner.  Notice how tall I am... that's the heels.  Too bad I didn't get a full length shot since that might have been the only occasion I have to wear that dress.

I talked to Gma n Gpa Wags this week and gave the suggestion of building a shower like the one at Terra Khaya on the hill next to their house.  That apparently warranted some hearty laughs.  Is it so hard to imagine a family gathering in which you build a fire under the metal barrel, wait a few hours, and say buh-bye to everyone for a bath with a nice view? Okay, so maybe that’s a stretch for some people, but I think it sounds nice.

The shower at Terra Khaya.

The view from the shower at Terra Kyaha.  Now imagine the greenery of the fields behind Gma n Gpa's.  It would be like looking out from the window over the sink, but much less domestic and much more spa-like ;) haha

The bath at Terra Khaya.  The view to the right (I have no idea why I didn't capture it) is of the mountains.  You can see out just enough so that everyone in the world can't see in.

 

Culture for Bruce (and anyone else who wants to see the Xhosa language)

This week we spent some time with Anga, a South African from East London who lives near Langerry and goes to NMMU.  He saw us heading out for an ice cream study break late Wednesday night, and he joined us on the walk.  He cleared up a few of the Xhosa clicks for which there is a different clicks sound for x, q, and c. I was saying Xhosa with a “q” sound rather than the “x” sound.  IT kind of funny at times how foreign a concept it is to us to use clicks in a language.  He did a clicking tongue twister for us that was insane!  Click on the link below to get an idea of what he was talking about.

Youtube Xhosa lessons with the tongue twister at the end

The language barrier here is sometimes difficult.  Taylor said that at Pendla, the school she volunteers at, the kids are often very hurt when she can't pronounce their names. On the flip side, she now just introduces herself as "Taylah" because that is how most South Africans pronounce it, devoid of the American "r" at the end.  At House, it is difficult to communicate with the children who don't speak English, especially when the older ones know they are being naughty and pretend not to understand "no" or timeout.  It is even sadder sometimes, that we can't encourage the children who don't speak English, rather we use high fives and body language.  It is also tough to get questions answered from the Playschool teacher, because sometimes we don't talk slowly enough or she might not understand a word or two.  So, we work as a team, asking the same question in a different way three or four times.  At a mentoring meeting on Wednesday morning, we realized that we are half-way done with service.  We still have one bedroom and two bathrooms left to paint, and we are planning an outing with the kids. Times is flying.

Conviviality Wanted

I have a sad story for all of you today.  I eat alone.  For breakfast, I grab something and eat on my bed while waking up or revving up my computer.  Lunch is usually spent reading for a class, writing a reflection paper, or writing emails on my bed with a sandwich or salad.  Dinner is eaten at the table if there is room, but I always have a book or some kind of work.  Our table is against a wall, so we only have three chairs.  All of us buy and cook our own food and eat at different times.  Thus, I am a loner.  I am lacking one of the most important parts of a meal *conviviality*.  Conviviality is the enjoyment of food with company.  Most people can agree that eating alone does not have the same feeling as eating with others.  Company adds a whole different dimension to meals which is healthy.  We eat slower to converse, laugh to aid in digestion, and join with our community for at least one reason, to eat.  Conner Middleman Whitney’s blog called Nourish found on the journal Psychology Now’s website speaks of the need for conviviality in a post titled “Conviviality Now! Family feasts for body and soul” He wrote:

The word ‘convivial' derives from Latin, where it means quite simply ‘the act of living together.' We are drawn to conviviality by our need for safety, companionship and comfort. But in today's hyper-efficient, fast-paced world, we often sacrifice that which made us human - our fundamental need for food - and the communality that was born of this need. Instead, we rush from one task to the next and eating becomes just another chore to be slotted into our busy schedules. (21 May 2010)

According to Whitney, conviviality has implications for health, too.

Sociologists have compared habits of conviviality in Mediterranean and Anglo-Saxon countries and their results make fascinating reading. In an international survey of people's attitudes to food and eating, respondents were asked to describe what, to them, constituted a ‘healthy diet' (Fischler C, Masson E. Manger - Français, Européens et Américains face à l'alimentation. Odile Jacob (Paris), 2008).

Whereas primary health-concerns for the Americans and Britons surveyed touched on scientific concepts such as 'proteins,' ‘carbohydrates' and ‘fat,' Italian and French respondents overwhelmingly focused on the notion of pleasure.

There was also a great divergence in respondents' attitudes to conviviality: when asked what constitutes a healthy diet, French and French-speaking Swiss participants spoke spontaneously of ‘family meals' or ‘eating with friends.' In the French-speaking focus group, the word ‘family' came up 39 times, ‘friends' 51 times, ‘convivial' 72 times and ‘sharing' 38 times.

This is in striking contrast with the Anglophone groups, where ‘family' was mentioned eight times, ‘friends' four times and ‘sharing' only three times. Lastly, while Anglophones and Germans valued ‘conviviality' on special occasions, the French, in particular, said they treasured conviviality as an ordinary, day-to-day event. (21 May 2010)

I can see the weaknesses of eating alone, because I eat very fast and distractedly.  So, I often end up making more and having more food than I would have if I was with others, sitting at a table, and taking more time.  When I began to notice the trouble, I suggested buying food as a group and eating together, but my flatmates insisted that we each have varied palates and it would be too difficult to accommodate everyone in one meal.  

Although I’m not prepared to push the issue more, I have learned a valuable lesson.  Regardless of the Calories, protein, fat, carbs etc of a meal, I will do my best to value any meal eaten with friends or family.  Nutrition profs have told me time and again to enjoy food and avoid eating on the run.  I have ignored those suggestions with the excuse of being too busy, but I have a feeling that next year, my priorities will be a bit different.  I will aim to eat at a table with others and have some control over my schedule rather than letting the schedule control me.

Thank you all for reading, and I would be happy to engage in conviviality over a meal with any of my readers upon my return to the states.  Oh, how I wish I had it here!

If you’d like to check out the rest of the blog post you can visit: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/nourish/201005/conviviality-now .  Whitney has a lot of good things to say.

Short service week struggles

Culture for Bruce and Norma
Today, I had a hard time respecting diversity at House.  We had the day off for the holiday yesterday, so we only have one service day today.  Respecting diversity is one of our goals to aid in community development at our sites, and it is not always easy, even for those of us who grew up with units in tolerance in every social studies class.  One of the little boys fell out the front door and tumbled down two of the steps.  I had the clearest view of the fall, and I ran to him, and he was pretty shaken up because he hit his head.  There was already a bump forming, so Connie, the teacher, ran to get ice, and brought back a lunch-pack hard ice capsule.  She pressed the hard plastic pack to his head.  He cried because of the cold and the pressure.  I felt bad for him, because I have never seen swelling dealt with that way. I have no idea if that would help the swelling stay down, or if it was a misled practice.  To be honest, it seemed that there was a fairly small bump for what could have been, so I would have to infer that she knew what she was doing.

I had never seen swelling dealt with that way.  I had to remind myself that Connie has been at her job for a while, and she knows what to do.  In addition, I was upset about hte door being unlocked and the little boy's bad behavior right before he fell being laughed off, possibly encouraging him to continue doing things he knew he shouldn't be doing.  It must have been a pretty bad realization when his head hit the step that, "oh I shouldn't have done this."  That's a hard learning curve for a two-year-old.

I can't blame Connie for being tired of working alone with 16 young children every da.  But I couldn't help but think that a little bit firmer discipline with the children may benefit her in the long run.  In all, Connie's treatment of the children's behavior is also seen in the US (i.e. laughing bad behavior off), so I had to remember that individuals handle things differently, and it is unfair to assume that her attitude is "African" and every childcare provider hast he same reactions towards bad behavior.

Home again home again jiggity-jig

This morning we were on the trail by 7am and hiked until 11.  We went on the 10km hike again, but it was slower so we could actually take a look at our surroundings.  We went to the second water fall that we had;t seen on the trail run.  And, it was a rock scramble to the top.  It was a real challenge finding our own way and I was even hit by a softball-sized rock that was kicked loose, but we all made it up, and down (which is often harder).  At the end of the hike there were baboons in the trees, and they were impossible to get pictures of.  After the hike, we ate a quick lunch of sandwiches by the car and got on the road.  We arrived back at the flat by 4 after refueling the car, getting it washed, and grabbing some groceries for the week.  We all had a lot of reading to finish and just chilled for the night.

preeettty

The Big Tree!  Can you see my friends in the pic.  The one closest is 6' tall, that should give a reference to how tall it really is.

Follow the hogs!

The sun came through the canopy very nicely.

A smaller Madonna and Child than we saw on the run on Saturday.

Straight up the rock scramble.

A shadow of a ferny leaf.

Hogsback Weekend:Sunday

Saturday night we had a feast of salad, spaghetti bolgonese, and dark chocolate at about 10:15 and went straight to bed.  Sunday we woke to see the sunrise.  By about 9 am I was starting to feel good and awake when I took a shower in the unique atmosphere Terra Khaya offers.  Check it out!

Early sunrise

Sunrise

The view from the outdoor bath

The lodge" a porch, kitchen, den and fire pit surrounded by art and cacti!

The shower.  The water is heated by a fire below a metal barrel.  After a few hours you've got a hot shower!

This is the view from the shower.  To the left there is a full-length mirror and a pedestal sink.  It was one of the best showers I've ever had.  Great smelling biodegradable products, luke-warm water, warm enough outside, and I could see a big more of the mountain than the picture shows.

The rondavel we slept in.

Cool bug on a plastic flower.

The toilet.  It's just a drop toilet, and you drop sawdust down it when you're done.  I'm not sure how they dispose of it when the pit gets full.

The atmosphere on the porch.

Flowers that grow on rocks and the steep parts of the mountain.

crawling.

cool

pretty

the lodge from across the creek

Two of the girls left at about 8 to go get the car.  I took a shower and got a tour of the permaculture farm from the gardener Thembeweni (pronounced Tem-bu-wen-ey).  Permaculture is a method of farming meant to sustain itself.  For instance, at TK there is a lot of wattle, an invasive tree species.  Pigs browse on wattle leaves and after the leaves are gone, they eat the roots.  So the wattle is eradicated, and the pigs also eat table scraps.  They cannot digest the seeds, so the pigs actually plant seed as they clear the wattle.  So, TK has some plots with butternut squash and other plants without buying the seed.  They also let chickens roam the gardens, and they aerate the soil nicely as they scratch and search for bugs.  Marigolds and another K_____ plant (I can't remember the name) grow freely in the gardens, because their scent is a natural pesticide.  None of the plants are in rows, even those planted in raised beds, because pests invade when one plant is sectioned together.  So, tomatoes are paired with lettuce to provide shade, and many kinds of lettuce grow all around with pumpkin, squash, and beans.  Thembeweni weeded to prepare the beds, but he just pics out little shoots once in a while from the beds, because the weeds don't grow as profusely with methods of permaculture.  I think it's pretty cool stuff. 

After my tour, we went to two pottery studios in the area and went to Away with the Fairies to chill.  I read a lot over the weekend for my lit class and seminar, and we have a music test.  So, we had the widely-acclaimed pizza at the backpacker, which was ok, but it had a lotttt of cheese on it, and then I read myself to sleep.


Culture for Bruce
A Canadian woman named Gabby stayed at Terra Khaya.  She had been traveling for nine months on her own through Tanzania, Namibia, Botswana, and now South Africa.  When we expressed our amazement at her adventure saying, "Wow that must be great," she paused a second.  She looked as if she was kind of tired of the question and answered, "There have been some really rough times and some really great times."  I think I knew where she was coming from to some extent.  Before I left, everyone asked, "Are you excited?" and although I sometimes got tired of answering, I was very excited.  I felt obligated to respond with the same enthusiasm to everyone's wishes of good luck and assumptions about embarking on a life-changing event. But Gabby highlighted and important point for me, it's not all fun.  I don't know where I got the idea that self-growth, getting out of one's comfort zone, operating in a constant state of unfamiliarity, all without the normal friend, family, and community support structures is a fun process.  It's not always fun to watch oneself from afar realizing more each day that I am who I am because of my community.  That is an African idea illustrated in our ethics book, and when I'm so far from my support network, I am feeling this truth.  Considering that I don't have a best friend who constantly supports me or one place that I call home, I was surprised at the struggles to find my feet here in SA.  I realized that the patchwork of friends, family, professors, and mentors who each give a little support are the people that make me, me.  So now the challenge is: in realizing my roots, can I spread my wings and fly.  I know it's cliche, but now that I have realized their worth, can I take the advice, examples, and strength of my support network and put it to work to reassemble myself on foreign soil?  That's the challenge.

Hogsback Weekend: Saturday

Saturday morning we grabbed some lunch-making-supplies and headed for Hogsback.  Hogsback name is clouded in mystery, but some assert that the name comes from three green mountain peaks with vertically ridged, stone peaks that resemble hogs’ backs.  Around 13:00 we scraped up the gravel road to Terra Khaya, Hogsback eco-friendly backpacker.  This relatively new backpacker practices permaculture farming, horseback riding with halters—no bit, and it’s off the grid energy speaking.  We dropped our stuff in the mosaic-tiled rondavel and left for the nearest hiking trails.

When we arrived at the trail-head, which is located at Away with the Fairies (JRR Tolkien ring a bell?) backpacker, there were shirts on a registration table for a trail run meant to start at 4.  Taylor and I could not resist the prospect of a 10km trail run and a shirt to bring home at a very reasonable price.  So, we signed up and waited for the start. 

Hogsback had experienced four days of rainfall before our arrival, so as the beginning announcements strongly suggested, the race was a fun run-walk more than a rave.  They even suggested stopping to have a look at the waterfalls and take some pictures along the way.  Because of the rain, the largest waterfall had the most runoff anyone in the area had seen in their life-times.  Where it usually has trickles down the left and right side, the fall was booming with the sheer cubic volume of water spilling over the whole edge.  The run was extremely slippery, not following any specific trail at times, injury prone (with the bruises to prove it), but so much fun!  The pictures say more:

Old shorty-shots guy picking them out of his butt.

Can't just take pics of him, must look like the pic is actually of me, but look at how short they are!!!

Treacherous.  My butt still hurts.

Half-way done at the Madonna and Child Waterfall.  It was gorgeous.

Look who was in front of us on the rare stair-case ascent up the mountain.

Water break with a nice view

uphill

Some kids who posed so nicely for us at one of the turns.

Yep, I'm tired.

Taylor, looking cool on the bridge with an awesome view behind her.

Al..most... home...

Sundown

Super moon!!!!!!!!!!! The biggest moon in about 20 years

woah

After the race, Taylor and I grabbed a “shit in the woods” a South Africa shot which is a springbok (mint liquor and Amarula rum) with an additional shot of chocolate.  We were sweaty and the temperature was dropping and we were ready to go back to Terra Khaya for the acclaimed dinner that was waiting for us.  However, an unnamed person locked the keys in the trunk (really, it could happen to anybody), so we were stranded at Away with the Fairies.  We made many phone calls, and the owner of Terra Khaya, Shane, came to pick us up.  After a whiskey, we climbed in the back of his bakki, and he literally roared into the night.  It was very bright because of the full moon, and it was beautiful.  His old (probably 1960’s or 70’s) Toyota truck must have been hard to shift, because he just nailed the gas each time, and all I could do was laugh from the back to avoid crying.  He blew through very bumpy, jagged, rocky gravel roads like he was on Hwy 94- except he drove way on the shoulder sometimes, giving the sensation that I was on the top of a teetering double-decker bus.  All said, it was a very fun ride.