...just so I could tell you the happy update to my last post, which is that we found someone to fix the car for $200 instead of $300 and we found a buyer who will pay us in dollars.
*
I should really have taken the combi to the orphanage this morning, but couldn't quite get up the energy--I'd have to take public transport and it's cold out there! I'm wearing a fleece and slippers! It's definitely a nice change to have cool afternoons instead of blazing hot, but the mornings are so chilly.
A is getting over a cold and now my throat is starting to hurt--I think it's best I just stay home and drink tea and apply for jobs. I'll go to the orphanage tomorrow when I can drive.
*
Tonight we pack up our apartment and tomorrow we move to Penn housing. Which means tonight is our last night sleeping in this apartment. Ironically, while Penn has had awesome internet all year, suddenly it's gotten really slow the last month or so. So internet won't improve, but then again we leave in like...a week and a half. So who even cares about internet speed.
I can't believe I don't care about internet speed.
*
A full update on our two seders coming soon. Time for tea and possibly matzah brie.
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Solitaire, together (Part 2)
When we last left you, it was New Year's Eve, and we had just pulled over to the side of the road in Middle of Nowhere, Namib-Nauklaft Desert. Our fan belt was broken and we were stuck.
We hopped out of the car and checked for snakes in the high grass. The loud buzz of desert beetles was ominous, but we had plenty of drinking water. I checked the fish--still frozen.
Less than a minute after we pulled over, we flagged down the first car that passed us. In it was a friendly Portuguese family of tourists. They offered us water. We had plenty. They offered us petrol. We had plenty of that, too. The dad offered to tow us to the next town, even though their car was only 2WD. The mom tried to dissuade the dad, in Portuguese.
Luckily, the conversation was moot because a minute later, a huge truck drove by. They pulled over, hitched our car to theirs like they'd done it a thousand times and we were on our way.
(Our view for the next 45 minutes)
We had to keep the car turned off, which meant no a/c. And we couldn't open the windows because clouds of suffocating dust would blow in. A rock shot up and cracked D's front windshield. We were trapped and sweating buckets. Feeling useless, I took it upon myself to make sure we all stayed hydrated, even if the water we had was warm and unappetizing.
The truck driver and his companion towed us to the nearest town, a little rest-stop called Solitaire. It was about 80 km north of Sossusvlei, where we were headed. He dropped us off near the gas station and we climbed out.
We waved at the Portuguese family eating lunch at the little restaurant next to the gas station. They waved back.
(Um...okay, I guess.)
(D slept in the small tent and A and I slept in the huge tent. We were carrying jerrycans of petrol in the trunk, and they spilled all over D's sleeping bag and our sleeping pad, so our tents basically stank of petrol. Also, we were highly flammable.)
(Oh wait a minute, it's really beautiful here.)
(I really do wear that shirt a lot! Also, take stupid pictures!)
We got some beers and even a tiny bottle of champagne at the town general store, and started to slow down to the Solitaire pace of life.
(Beautiful sunsets. Grilled fish. Beer. If we'd meant to end up here, it would have been charming.)
That night, we also ran into A's Doris Duke friend and her family, whom we'd seen in Swakopmund. They were on their way to Windhoek the next day and offered to take one of us to the Land Rover store to get the parts we needed. We didn't know how said person would get back so we declined.
The guy who seemed to run most of Solitaire threw a big party that night for New Year's. Lots of people were up late dancing. A and I fell asleep, actually, but we woke up at midnight to light sparklers and drink champagne.
(A ran around waving his sparkler like a kid with a sparkler.)
We woke up the next morning and set out to explore Solitaire. We walked through a flock of peacocks (no idea why there were peacocks) and started our day with breakfast at the surprisingly delicious bakery. Apparently, it is famous for its apple pie. They also had excellent filter coffee (aka REAL coffee). We started to loosen up a bit.
(Thank god for this place.)
(Really good scones, too.)
(Charming Solitaire.)
(I read one and a half books in those lounge chairs.)
On our second full day in Solitaire, we started to get bored. What time was it? Why was it so hot? Was there any cold water? Should I get some ice cream? What's the point of it all?
After two nights in Solitaire, growing increasingly antsy, we were planning to get towed the next day. We were eating breakfast in the bakery, when D started up a conversation with a guy from Swakopmund, also a Land Rover owner, named Charles, who was passing through. Charles told us we were crazy to get towed, and that his son surfed with someone who worked at the Land Rover parts store in Swakopmund and when he got there he would send the part down to us via a tour company. It was a big risk to stay another day and wait for the part, but we decided to put our trust in Charles.
A few minutes after we said goodbye to Charles, the Portuguese family came to the bakery. They were on their way back from Sossusvlei. They could not believe we were still there.
The next day we sat nervously by the gas station, waiting for the tour company to bring the parts. There were so many things that could go wrong--Charles not delivering the order, the store not having the right parts or being closed, the tour company not getting the parts to bring down, the parts not actually fitting onto the car. But amazingly, it all worked out. The bush mechanics fixed us up, free of charge.
That night we tried to celebrate by making homemade pizza over an open fire with bread from the bakery and sauce and cheese from the general store. It did not work.
(The general store where I sat and used the wifi. Of course they had better internet access in Solitaire than we do in our apartment.)
We hopped out of the car and checked for snakes in the high grass. The loud buzz of desert beetles was ominous, but we had plenty of drinking water. I checked the fish--still frozen.
Less than a minute after we pulled over, we flagged down the first car that passed us. In it was a friendly Portuguese family of tourists. They offered us water. We had plenty. They offered us petrol. We had plenty of that, too. The dad offered to tow us to the next town, even though their car was only 2WD. The mom tried to dissuade the dad, in Portuguese.
Luckily, the conversation was moot because a minute later, a huge truck drove by. They pulled over, hitched our car to theirs like they'd done it a thousand times and we were on our way.
(Our view for the next 45 minutes)The truck driver and his companion towed us to the nearest town, a little rest-stop called Solitaire. It was about 80 km north of Sossusvlei, where we were headed. He dropped us off near the gas station and we climbed out.
We waved at the Portuguese family eating lunch at the little restaurant next to the gas station. They waved back.
(Um...okay, I guess.)We got the car looked at by a couple of mechanics who had a small repair shop there. They didn't have the right size replacement fanbelt. We called a tow company in Windhoek--it would cost $600 to be towed. Not to mention that it was New Year's Eve and they weren't willing to tow us for a couple of days. We talked to a Land Rover parts store in Windhoek. They'd send us the fanbelt but were we sure it was just the fanbelt and not the wheel that had seized? They were right. The wheel had seized because the bearing was shot (hey, you'd know a lot about Land Rovers, too, at this point). We talked about getting a tour company to drive us to Sossusvlei for the day, but it was expensive and we decided it wasn't worth it. Our car was broken and we weren't going to see the famous dunes of Sossusvlei. We were feeling kinda down.
Then it started to rain.
(Drizzle on Tando's hood--D's car is named "Tando," not sure if I mentioned that.)
Did I mention we were in the desert?
(Someone does a really poor job of filling out this chart, but I gather it does not rain much in Solitaire.)
We were feeling pretty darn sorry for ourselves. But then, the rainclouds lifted. We put up our tents and lit some coals to grill the miraculously still-cold fish. The sun started to set.
Then it started to rain.
(Drizzle on Tando's hood--D's car is named "Tando," not sure if I mentioned that.)
(Someone does a really poor job of filling out this chart, but I gather it does not rain much in Solitaire.)
(D slept in the small tent and A and I slept in the huge tent. We were carrying jerrycans of petrol in the trunk, and they spilled all over D's sleeping bag and our sleeping pad, so our tents basically stank of petrol. Also, we were highly flammable.) 
(Oh wait a minute, it's really beautiful here.)
(I really do wear that shirt a lot! Also, take stupid pictures!)
(Beautiful sunsets. Grilled fish. Beer. If we'd meant to end up here, it would have been charming.)That night, we also ran into A's Doris Duke friend and her family, whom we'd seen in Swakopmund. They were on their way to Windhoek the next day and offered to take one of us to the Land Rover store to get the parts we needed. We didn't know how said person would get back so we declined.
The guy who seemed to run most of Solitaire threw a big party that night for New Year's. Lots of people were up late dancing. A and I fell asleep, actually, but we woke up at midnight to light sparklers and drink champagne.
(A ran around waving his sparkler like a kid with a sparkler.)
(Thank god for this place.)
(Really good scones, too.)The bakery was awesome, not only because of the baked goods but because of the eccentric owner and head baker, Moose McGregor (doesn't that sound like a character from a children's book?). Moose was alternately rude and overly friendly, both snapping at me and insisting I check out the burn he'd gotten that morning--on his (rather large) belly.
(Charming Solitaire.)Probably the saving grace of Solitaire, even more than the bakery, was the pool. Technically, it belonged to the small hotel, where we were not staying, but we figured our situation earned us access. We spent most of our time there.
(I read one and a half books in those lounge chairs.)On our second full day in Solitaire, we started to get bored. What time was it? Why was it so hot? Was there any cold water? Should I get some ice cream? What's the point of it all?
After two nights in Solitaire, growing increasingly antsy, we were planning to get towed the next day. We were eating breakfast in the bakery, when D started up a conversation with a guy from Swakopmund, also a Land Rover owner, named Charles, who was passing through. Charles told us we were crazy to get towed, and that his son surfed with someone who worked at the Land Rover parts store in Swakopmund and when he got there he would send the part down to us via a tour company. It was a big risk to stay another day and wait for the part, but we decided to put our trust in Charles.
A few minutes after we said goodbye to Charles, the Portuguese family came to the bakery. They were on their way back from Sossusvlei. They could not believe we were still there.
The next day we sat nervously by the gas station, waiting for the tour company to bring the parts. There were so many things that could go wrong--Charles not delivering the order, the store not having the right parts or being closed, the tour company not getting the parts to bring down, the parts not actually fitting onto the car. But amazingly, it all worked out. The bush mechanics fixed us up, free of charge.
That night we tried to celebrate by making homemade pizza over an open fire with bread from the bakery and sauce and cheese from the general store. It did not work.
(The general store where I sat and used the wifi. Of course they had better internet access in Solitaire than we do in our apartment.)But we didn't even care! We were going home! After five days and four nights in Solitaire, we were finally free!...to drive to Windhoek, over bad roads and frightening cliffs, and then another 12 hours to Gabs.
And from that day on, Solitaire always held a special place in our hearts as somewhere we never, ever wanted to go to again.
THE END.
And from that day on, Solitaire always held a special place in our hearts as somewhere we never, ever wanted to go to again.
THE END.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
I don't have a computer anymore.
One of the big themes of this year is that Botswana is not America, even though it looks and tastes like America. Even though the Indian food here is better than anywhere in Manhattan. The electricity goes out a lot, and with it (and sometimes without it), the internet.
Now my computer broke and I can't get it fixed. I took it to a computer-fixing place and they held onto it for a week and then were sheepishly like, yeah we dunno.
When you're trying to experience the world, it's OK if the internet goes out. Hey, it's even okay if I don't have a computer for a week or two. I actually sort of enjoy reading and baking and going to the orphanage, none of which require a computer except for baking and sometimes reading.
But when you're trying to work for people in the U.S., not having a computer or internet or electricity can be a real handicap. You end up being a bit unreliable, a bit of a disappointer. It's hard to just embrace the experience when you are frustrated that your real life self doesn't look good. You can't enjoy, for example, being stranded for five days in the Namibian desert (I still haven't written about that??!)
Again, I wonder if it would be a very different disappointment if we lived somewhere where our expectations were a lot lower. Like a village in Mali.
*
The traffic here is also killing us. It took an hour this morning to drive A to work (we've finally hooked up an iPod to our tape player so we can listen to This American Life). It should take 10 minutes. Once I drop him off, I drive another 20 minutes to the orphanage. That's an hour and a half in traffic before my day even starts. Is it any wonder that I don't have patience left to help 30 five-year-olds learn to cut?
Also, where'd all these people get all these cars?
*
I forgot to take my travel mug home over the weekend and on Monday it stank of rotten milk. Cannot get the effing smell out. Damn it all to hell.
*
The orphanage preschool continues to be, for lack of a better word, a shitshow. There's this overwhelming contrast between the fact that these kids are laughing and having fun and clean and well-fed and the fact that the classrooms are absurdly understaffed, there's no nurse, there's a million safety violations, and sometimes a teacher will beat a kid with a ruler. Undoubtedly it's a sign of my skewed perspective that I totally understand the hitting. 60 kids and ONE teacher? As long as it's not too hard.
However, in calmer moments, kindergarten is a lovely place. We cut and paste. We color. We sing. We read aloud. We learn to write our names. If my comedy career doesn't work out, and my back-up academic career doesn't work out, and my back-up food blogger/cafe owner career doesn't work out, and nobody ever publishes my books, and I can't think of a good enough reason to become a lawyer, then I think I'd love to be a kindergarten teacher.
Actually, I think as long as I'm not doing anything tremendously interesting, I might as well become a dentist because then I'd make a lot of money.
*
We're experiencing a record rainy season. Towns are flooding. A's office's roof fell in. The other day, my roommate S and I walked past a bus shelter full of goats hiding from the rain. Half of them were perched up on the bench. It was cute.
Rain means bugs. The government has issued some new malaria warnings, including for towns not far from here. As a result, Penn has told students here to start taking prophylaxis even in Gabs. I started taking pills yesterday, so hopefully they're giving me some protection against the millions of mosquitoes currently biting me.
Just kidding, the risk is very low, Mom.
Now my computer broke and I can't get it fixed. I took it to a computer-fixing place and they held onto it for a week and then were sheepishly like, yeah we dunno.
When you're trying to experience the world, it's OK if the internet goes out. Hey, it's even okay if I don't have a computer for a week or two. I actually sort of enjoy reading and baking and going to the orphanage, none of which require a computer except for baking and sometimes reading.
But when you're trying to work for people in the U.S., not having a computer or internet or electricity can be a real handicap. You end up being a bit unreliable, a bit of a disappointer. It's hard to just embrace the experience when you are frustrated that your real life self doesn't look good. You can't enjoy, for example, being stranded for five days in the Namibian desert (I still haven't written about that??!)
Again, I wonder if it would be a very different disappointment if we lived somewhere where our expectations were a lot lower. Like a village in Mali.
*
The traffic here is also killing us. It took an hour this morning to drive A to work (we've finally hooked up an iPod to our tape player so we can listen to This American Life). It should take 10 minutes. Once I drop him off, I drive another 20 minutes to the orphanage. That's an hour and a half in traffic before my day even starts. Is it any wonder that I don't have patience left to help 30 five-year-olds learn to cut?
Also, where'd all these people get all these cars?
*
I forgot to take my travel mug home over the weekend and on Monday it stank of rotten milk. Cannot get the effing smell out. Damn it all to hell.
*
The orphanage preschool continues to be, for lack of a better word, a shitshow. There's this overwhelming contrast between the fact that these kids are laughing and having fun and clean and well-fed and the fact that the classrooms are absurdly understaffed, there's no nurse, there's a million safety violations, and sometimes a teacher will beat a kid with a ruler. Undoubtedly it's a sign of my skewed perspective that I totally understand the hitting. 60 kids and ONE teacher? As long as it's not too hard.
However, in calmer moments, kindergarten is a lovely place. We cut and paste. We color. We sing. We read aloud. We learn to write our names. If my comedy career doesn't work out, and my back-up academic career doesn't work out, and my back-up food blogger/cafe owner career doesn't work out, and nobody ever publishes my books, and I can't think of a good enough reason to become a lawyer, then I think I'd love to be a kindergarten teacher.
Actually, I think as long as I'm not doing anything tremendously interesting, I might as well become a dentist because then I'd make a lot of money.
*
We're experiencing a record rainy season. Towns are flooding. A's office's roof fell in. The other day, my roommate S and I walked past a bus shelter full of goats hiding from the rain. Half of them were perched up on the bench. It was cute.
Rain means bugs. The government has issued some new malaria warnings, including for towns not far from here. As a result, Penn has told students here to start taking prophylaxis even in Gabs. I started taking pills yesterday, so hopefully they're giving me some protection against the millions of mosquitoes currently biting me.
Just kidding, the risk is very low, Mom.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Recovery
You really don't need to see this, but just to offer by way of explanation for my lack of blogging over the past two weeks--in addition to traveling, not having internet, and being generally exhausted from traveling and not having internet, I got one of the worst sunburns of my life while canoeing on the Wild Coast of South Africa. My legs went from bright red to purple, and after a day of driving and a day of flying, my ankles had swollen up from a combination of travel stagnancy/sunburn inflammation/
Yeah, like I said. You really don't need to see this. Sometimes I think I post this stuff just to prevent A from ever having a chance at a political career. ("My opponent's wife posted obscene photographs of her swollen ankles on a public blog--not to mention her views on Israel...")
I really should post photos of our trip to Kaudwane, a remote village of forcefully relocated San people (they are the "Bushmen" who live as hunter-gatherers in the Kalahari Desert), our day in Sani Pass and Lesotho and then our trip to Bulungula on the Wild Coast. I have so many things to complain about and also photographs of mountains! But the internet is too slow at this cafe to post photos and who wants to READ? At least my ankles are back to normal. I willl post photos and descriptions when we get back from Namibia.
Speaking of which, it's time to get packed for our trip to Namibia tomorrow--we're driving to Windhoek at 6am.
Yeah, like I said. You really don't need to see this. Sometimes I think I post this stuff just to prevent A from ever having a chance at a political career. ("My opponent's wife posted obscene photographs of her swollen ankles on a public blog--not to mention her views on Israel...")
I really should post photos of our trip to Kaudwane, a remote village of forcefully relocated San people (they are the "Bushmen" who live as hunter-gatherers in the Kalahari Desert), our day in Sani Pass and Lesotho and then our trip to Bulungula on the Wild Coast. I have so many things to complain about and also photographs of mountains! But the internet is too slow at this cafe to post photos and who wants to READ? At least my ankles are back to normal. I willl post photos and descriptions when we get back from Namibia.
Speaking of which, it's time to get packed for our trip to Namibia tomorrow--we're driving to Windhoek at 6am.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Storm!
Last night around 4:30 a.m. a huge thunderclap woke A and I. It was right over our heads and actually kind of terrifying. The storm lasted for about half an hour with no rain (we are waiting for the first big rainstorm because then you're not supposed to drink the water for a few days). Every time we thought it had moved away, the room lit up with lightning again. The thunder sounded like those big metal sheets they use to make thunder in productions of The Tempest. (n.b.: Shira's best comparison for actual thunder is manufactured thunder, specifically an image derived from Wishbone. Discuss in comments section.)
Eventually, A got himself out of bed.
"The end of the Phillies game is probably on right now."
*
We watched the new Wall Street movie last night at one of the two movie theaters here. It was sort of weird to watch a movie set in the financial world of New York City in a shopping mall in Gaborone, and it actually made me miss Manhattan, which I don't think was the point, really.
I assume now that Batwana audiences think all Americans drive motorcycles, attend galas at the Met, and can afford half-million dollar diamond rings, but actually those events at the Met are pretty hard to get into.
*
Four new mosquito bites, all on my face.
Eventually, A got himself out of bed.
"The end of the Phillies game is probably on right now."
*
We watched the new Wall Street movie last night at one of the two movie theaters here. It was sort of weird to watch a movie set in the financial world of New York City in a shopping mall in Gaborone, and it actually made me miss Manhattan, which I don't think was the point, really.
I assume now that Batwana audiences think all Americans drive motorcycles, attend galas at the Met, and can afford half-million dollar diamond rings, but actually those events at the Met are pretty hard to get into.
*
Four new mosquito bites, all on my face.
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