Mundane to the Magnificent

Mundane would be the 28 hours on a plane. I’m sure you know the drill. Tight connections, lost cell phones, bad (bad) airplane food, cramped spaces, sleepless sleep, tiny toilets and a large expanse of ocean. ( I did create my own “yoga for cramped spaces” routine that made the trip far more comfortable)

An airport is an airport, and Johannasburg is no different. It could have been Dallas for all I know. Our first night in South Africa is at a huge resort/casino built as a replica of Vegas, complete with the winding indoor mall made to look like Venice, with murals and the blue painted sky ceiling. Seriously, it is exactly alike. (mom, you’d love it).

Where am I again?

There are 21 of us traveling in our little group. Everyone, except Rory and I, are from Australia. Everyone, except Rory and I, have been “doing the work” with William (the author/guide/workshop leader we are here to work for) for about a year or more. They all know each other rather intimately and we are a bit of a novelty. They are a lovely group.

A city tour helped me to feel a bit as if “we have arrived”. I was deeply moved by the tour of Soweto (the home township of Mandela), the recent history of Apartheid, and was surprised to learn that Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela lived only a few houses apart. Visiting the township and homes really brought home this painful and inspiring story of cultural change and the power of community.

A visit to the slums was sobering. It was cold and hailing when we arrived. We visited the home of Harriet, a round, shinny, grandmother who came here 17 years ago to improve things for herself and her children. Harriet and her family live in a tiny tin shack with a wood stove and barbed wire fence. There are 7 of us on the tour and we all wedge into her small living space (smaller than the master bath of the last home I lived in). She seems pleased to have guests. Her small patch of garden cannot grow edibles because of the hundreds of large rats that come around and eat the shoots as soon as they sprout. There are 25,000 people in this particular settlement. They have 66 water faucets to share, and 1,000 toilets. Their shacks are built one upon the other. This settlement is a far cry (but not a far distance) from the $300 a night rooms at the casinos. Such disparity continues to startle me.

Another 4 a.m. departure, more air travel, and now I get to see South Africa from the air – and it is rich and textured and green and beautiful.

I still do not feel as if I have arrived.

A day of driving, flat tire(s), broken car doors, boarder crossing, cold weather and stories of the surrounding area. It is spectacular. William was born and raised here, he knows the area and it’s history well. He has explained that while we started out in the lap of luxury we will gradually enter deeper and deeper into the “real” Swaziland over the course of the next few days. He seems to be leading us on a journey in such a way that we will acclimate a bit before diving “all in”. We are currently at a beautifully rustic resort. The views are stunning, the food fabulous, the workshop revealing, and the weather bitingly cold. They call this area the “Switzerland of Southern Africa” because of the beautiful mountain ranges (it’s not quite the Alps, but it is stunning). I’ve under-packed and under-dressed. It’s winter here, and I packed for fall in Ashland.

My sleep is still erratic and it’s currently 3:30 am. The alarm is set for 5:30. We’ve more touring tomorrow before heading to The Farm and safari on Friday.