Now that I am back in my freezing native land, the week I spent in Jo’Burg is a bit of a blur. I have made the comment more than once upon returning that I cannot believe I pulled that little jaunt off. I spent part of the week working on a report of the Anti-Apartheid movement in Canada. This reminded me of school and I enjoyed doing it. I hated writing papers in my undergrad but for some reason, loved it in grad school.
Now to retrace to the last blog posting…When my luggage finally surfaced Tuesday evening, I was surprised at how happy I was to see old familiar clothing. I recall lying in bed that night, going over the contents of my luggage when it suddenly dawned on me that Jill’s cell phone was missing from my luggage. It had been the cell phone we had used during the summer of our Internship. I offered to take the phone back with me to see if would charge up - and now we’ll never know. It is the first and hopefully the last thing I will ever have stolen from my luggage….although technically it was not mine. So I guess this means I still have a clean record of having nothing stolen – or perhaps nothing worth stealing.
The rest of my time was spent working on the Madiba Materials database. I was able to meet and spend time with Peter, the NMF’s database guy, and this proved to be time well spent and I was able to get quite a bit of the Canadian content relating to Madiba archival materials entered.
This time around, I ended up spending quite a bit of time with Heather, for which I was grateful. As mentioned previously, she took me shopping, we went out for dinner, and she also had me over to her house for supper one evening. I enjoyed all her stories and am glad for the time I was able to spend with her. I also had an enjoyable evening out with Verne and Shadrack. We walked all over Melville looking for a place to eat but it being Valentines Day, it proved easier said than done to find a place that wasn’t fully booked. We ended up at an Indian restaurant. The more gin that was consumed, the more freely the stories flowed, and it helped us to realize that an hour had passed with no food being served. The longer we waited, the more we drank, and the crazier the whole scenario became. Looking around, Verne suddenly realized that it seemed nobody at the restaurant had food. I can’t remember when I laughed so much or enjoyed Valentines Day so much – probably because I forgot it was Valentines Day. Or perhaps it was Verne’s cursing and sarcastic remarks about Valentines and Valentine’s couples that I found comforting.
By Thursday of that week, the jet lag got the better of me. I was going to bed by 11pm, waking up circa 3-3:30am and not sleeping anymore than that. By noon on Thursday, I was nearly bonkers. I felt like I was going to be sick, or faint, or do something I really did not want to do in front of the NMF staff. Then I got weepy, and because I am not a crier by nature, this freaked me out. I was too tired to walk back to the guest house, too hungry to walk to the nearest shop for lunch and the tears felt so near. I simply put my head on my desk and literally died. I am sure I slept for at least 45 minutes, only to be awoken to laughter and screaming. Knowing that Celine Dion was scheduled to visit the Foundation that day, I recall groggily waking up and thinking, “Is Celine Dion here?” Which was quickly followed by “I really don’t care because I need to sleep more.” Celine Dion did come and visit Madiba, and some staff went up to witness the big photo shoot in front of the NMF. I managed to sleep through the entire thing. I awoke though to find a rose sitting on my desk. Instead of wondering who put it there, my first thought was “ Was I snoring when they brought it? Was I drooling?” The next day I found out the rose had come from Yase – the funny man himself.
That was it. Peter – the database guy- and I shared a shuttle to the airport Friday afternoon as he was flying back to Cape Town. The shuttle driver was late picking us up as he thought he was to pick us up at the guest house, and then he didn’t know where the NMF was….yadda yadda yadda. I asked to be taken to the airport an hour early so I could shop. Besides tearing to the Shell station (down the street from the NMF) to get Jill’s Tumbles (candy) Friday morning, I had no chance to shop. Strolling through the “Out of Africa” shop at the Airport, I saw all the items I and bought from all over South Africa and Swaziland in this one shop. It was like Wal-Mart – one stop shopping. In addition to buying souvenirs for family, I needed to buy something for co-workers who ended up having to do stuff for me while I was away. In that hour, I managed to buy 20-25 of the smallest items imaginable – much to the dismay of the cashier.
On the way over, I flew Washington to Jo’Burg direct – 14.5 hours. What was not indicated on my itinerary was then the return trip differed slightly. It wasn’t until I boarded the plane and saw that the flight was destined for Dakar did I realize that I was flying Jo’Burg to Senegal (8 hours) and then Senegal to Washington (9 hours). The only thing I know about Dakar is its infamous Dakar Rally. I now know that that if you fly into Senegal - and if the plane is destined for the USA, the plane must first be searched by Senegal airport security and the inside of the plane sprayed - with some sort of mystical and pleasant smelling spray - becasue of malaria. I therefore regret that my first visit to Senegal consisted of sitting for two hours on the tarmac.
This is the first time I have flown internationally though the US since 1996. I was therefore surprised that although I was in transit to Canada, I still had to go through US Customs and Immigration and re-check my checked luggage. What a pain the proverbial ass. There was over 100 of us “Non-US citizens” in line and only two Customs officers working. It took forever. After being cooped up in airplane for so long, we were all nearly nuts, but of course nobody said anything, myself included. This delay meant I missed my connecting flight to Toronto and had to spend an additional 4 hours in the Washington airport. After the fact, this was probably a good thing because if I had returned to Toronto on Saturday morning as planned, I would probably have gone to bed and therefore messed up my sleeping schedule. Not getting back to TO until Saturday afternoon meant I napped in the airport and ended up going to sleep at a normal hour Saturday night. Mind you, I slept for 14 hours.
I am once again reminded, however, that everything does happen for a reason - including encounters with slow and cranky US Customs Officers.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
A return to Johannesburg
The day I left Toronto it was -10 degrees. Needless to say I jumped at the chance to return to Johannesburg in the middle of a Canadian winter. Even though there were thundershowers in Johannesburg this afternoon, it has only made the countryside more green and lush. As I write, the window is open, a fresh breeze is blowing in, and the birds are abundant in the garden outside my window. If I was in Toronto, I would just be getting home from work at this time, my feet would be frozen and the window certainly would not be open – even if it was, I would be looking into an alley way – not a beautiful garden like I am this evening.
I have only been here in Jo’Burg for two days and already the funny occurrences have begun. The last time I flew to SA, I flew through London and had a day long stopover. This time around, I flew through Washington. Due to high winds at the Dulles airport, my flight leaving Toronto was delayed. With only an hour and a half initially scheduled between my arrival and connecting flight in Washington, I realized that with the delay there stood a huge chance of me missing my connecting flight. As the United flight pulled into the loading dock in Washington, I looked out the window and to my disbelief there was a South African Airways plane parked immediately to the right of our plane. I then realized I stood a pretty good chance of catching my connecting flight. Tearing through the airport, I got to the gate and saw that the doors were already closed and thought, “Okay, get ready to cry,” but I didn’t have to. The South African Airways staff was brilliant and in lightening speed, I was checked in, people were unlocking doors (they actually had to unlock three sets of doors to get me to the plane) and there I was the very last person to get on that plane. I am one of those geeks who usually arrive hours before any scheduled flight so let’s just say it was an interesting experience being on the other end of the spectrum.
The flight was only half full but when I found my seat, I discovered that someone was already sitting there. The young man expressed that he did not want to sit in the bulk head seats (the row at the very front of the plane). I thought, “Are you kidding me?” In all my trips to and from Japan the bulk head were the coveted seats as they provide the most leg room and freedom one can possibly get on a plane. I told him to stay put and that I would gladly trade seats with him. There was no one sitting in any of the four bulk head seats so I thought I was going to be able to stretch out, until an old American fart came along, squatted and dashed my hopes of a semi-normal sleep. But boy did I have leg room and with it being a 14.5 hour flight, it was bloody fantastic.
I watched George Clooney in Michael Clayton, which was so-so, but quickly, if not surprisingly fell fast sleep. I actually managed to get quite a bit of sleep, despite the usual baby crying in the seat behind me and the man snoring loudly in the seat behind him. What was strange was that every time I did wake up, I saw the same older woman going to the bathroom. I realize that most airlines suggest increasing the amount of water you drink on long flights, but I do the direct opposite. Public washrooms are sometimes gross but it has been my experience that airplane washrooms are always gross. This of course means I get off the plane completely dehydrated - but after a 14 hour flight, one never gets off a plane looking anything but like complete and utter crap.
I finally got to Jo’Burg but my luggage did not. All I had is my carry on, which means I had nothing – no toiletries, no change of clothes, but the jet lag was so bad, I really did’t care. There was a shuttle service waiting for me, but I took so long to get through the line at the “Missing Baggage” counter, the poor chauffeur was pacing and Shadrack and Heather (from the NMF) have already called him a few times. I wasn’t sure if I was going directly to the guest house or to the NMF so I asked the chauffeur where he was taking me, to which he replied, “This is the Oliver Tambo International Airport.” Thus the fun began.
I finally figure out that he is taking me to the guest house. He is a good driver and navigates his way through the insane Jo’Burg traffic with ease. The closer we got to Sandton/Abbotsford, his confidence fades, however, as I slowly realize he does not know where the guest house is and can’t find it. So here I am in Jo’Burg, with nothing to my name, wanting to burn the clothes I am in, and the man that is supposed to deliver me to my guest house is lost. Again, I realize that jet lag is a wonderful thing because did I get upset? Nope – I was simply too tired to care – and I also knew that the NMF staff would take care of me.
When Shadrack called and I told him I had no luggage, first there was silence and then I hear “shit.” Knowing I would need to go and buy clothes and all those feminine items that men are clueless about, he wisely turned to Heather who came to the rescue. Meeting me at the guest house, she whisked me away to a local mall where we tore into Woolworths and within approximately eight minutes, she had helped me purchase two blouses, two tank tops, some black socks, and a nightie – no, wait – two nighties off the sale rack (two for the price of one, both of which featured variations of Snoopy with a Santa Clause hat). Oh yes, the socks were listed as fitting woman’s 4-7 shoe. I had forgotten that women having a size 10 shoe is unheard of, and again, jet lag resulted in me not caring. I gratefully grabbed the “cotton rich” socks and ran.
After a good nights rest and two showers, I felt ready for combat this morning. I had to put the same lotion on my face that I did on my feet and I hoped for the best. I had no gel for my hair, or deodorant, which resulted in another trip to the mall today with my personal shopper Heather. I was only too happy to return to the familiar Rosebank Mall and like a lot of women my age, willing shelled out some mulla for some make up hoping this was transform my zombie like appearance.
It is great to be back at the NMF and see all the familiar faces. I got caught up with Verne and Shadrack and my funny man Yase. It was all very surreal as none of the physical surroundings had changed much at all. I was given my first task and after drowning 4 cups of coffee and 2 diet cokes, I managed to get through the day with a whole lot of shaking and no sleeping. Mission accomplished.
So I am back at the guest house. I just called the airport and my luggage arrived this afternoon on the flight from Washington. Shadrack called immediately after that and coming to my rescue again, he took me to the airport to pick up said baggage. What would I do without my friends here in SA?
I just tried the TV and it is now up and running – just in time for the SABC evening news. Tomorrow it is going to be 25 degrees. Life is good.
I have only been here in Jo’Burg for two days and already the funny occurrences have begun. The last time I flew to SA, I flew through London and had a day long stopover. This time around, I flew through Washington. Due to high winds at the Dulles airport, my flight leaving Toronto was delayed. With only an hour and a half initially scheduled between my arrival and connecting flight in Washington, I realized that with the delay there stood a huge chance of me missing my connecting flight. As the United flight pulled into the loading dock in Washington, I looked out the window and to my disbelief there was a South African Airways plane parked immediately to the right of our plane. I then realized I stood a pretty good chance of catching my connecting flight. Tearing through the airport, I got to the gate and saw that the doors were already closed and thought, “Okay, get ready to cry,” but I didn’t have to. The South African Airways staff was brilliant and in lightening speed, I was checked in, people were unlocking doors (they actually had to unlock three sets of doors to get me to the plane) and there I was the very last person to get on that plane. I am one of those geeks who usually arrive hours before any scheduled flight so let’s just say it was an interesting experience being on the other end of the spectrum.
The flight was only half full but when I found my seat, I discovered that someone was already sitting there. The young man expressed that he did not want to sit in the bulk head seats (the row at the very front of the plane). I thought, “Are you kidding me?” In all my trips to and from Japan the bulk head were the coveted seats as they provide the most leg room and freedom one can possibly get on a plane. I told him to stay put and that I would gladly trade seats with him. There was no one sitting in any of the four bulk head seats so I thought I was going to be able to stretch out, until an old American fart came along, squatted and dashed my hopes of a semi-normal sleep. But boy did I have leg room and with it being a 14.5 hour flight, it was bloody fantastic.
I watched George Clooney in Michael Clayton, which was so-so, but quickly, if not surprisingly fell fast sleep. I actually managed to get quite a bit of sleep, despite the usual baby crying in the seat behind me and the man snoring loudly in the seat behind him. What was strange was that every time I did wake up, I saw the same older woman going to the bathroom. I realize that most airlines suggest increasing the amount of water you drink on long flights, but I do the direct opposite. Public washrooms are sometimes gross but it has been my experience that airplane washrooms are always gross. This of course means I get off the plane completely dehydrated - but after a 14 hour flight, one never gets off a plane looking anything but like complete and utter crap.
I finally got to Jo’Burg but my luggage did not. All I had is my carry on, which means I had nothing – no toiletries, no change of clothes, but the jet lag was so bad, I really did’t care. There was a shuttle service waiting for me, but I took so long to get through the line at the “Missing Baggage” counter, the poor chauffeur was pacing and Shadrack and Heather (from the NMF) have already called him a few times. I wasn’t sure if I was going directly to the guest house or to the NMF so I asked the chauffeur where he was taking me, to which he replied, “This is the Oliver Tambo International Airport.” Thus the fun began.
I finally figure out that he is taking me to the guest house. He is a good driver and navigates his way through the insane Jo’Burg traffic with ease. The closer we got to Sandton/Abbotsford, his confidence fades, however, as I slowly realize he does not know where the guest house is and can’t find it. So here I am in Jo’Burg, with nothing to my name, wanting to burn the clothes I am in, and the man that is supposed to deliver me to my guest house is lost. Again, I realize that jet lag is a wonderful thing because did I get upset? Nope – I was simply too tired to care – and I also knew that the NMF staff would take care of me.
When Shadrack called and I told him I had no luggage, first there was silence and then I hear “shit.” Knowing I would need to go and buy clothes and all those feminine items that men are clueless about, he wisely turned to Heather who came to the rescue. Meeting me at the guest house, she whisked me away to a local mall where we tore into Woolworths and within approximately eight minutes, she had helped me purchase two blouses, two tank tops, some black socks, and a nightie – no, wait – two nighties off the sale rack (two for the price of one, both of which featured variations of Snoopy with a Santa Clause hat). Oh yes, the socks were listed as fitting woman’s 4-7 shoe. I had forgotten that women having a size 10 shoe is unheard of, and again, jet lag resulted in me not caring. I gratefully grabbed the “cotton rich” socks and ran.
After a good nights rest and two showers, I felt ready for combat this morning. I had to put the same lotion on my face that I did on my feet and I hoped for the best. I had no gel for my hair, or deodorant, which resulted in another trip to the mall today with my personal shopper Heather. I was only too happy to return to the familiar Rosebank Mall and like a lot of women my age, willing shelled out some mulla for some make up hoping this was transform my zombie like appearance.
It is great to be back at the NMF and see all the familiar faces. I got caught up with Verne and Shadrack and my funny man Yase. It was all very surreal as none of the physical surroundings had changed much at all. I was given my first task and after drowning 4 cups of coffee and 2 diet cokes, I managed to get through the day with a whole lot of shaking and no sleeping. Mission accomplished.
So I am back at the guest house. I just called the airport and my luggage arrived this afternoon on the flight from Washington. Shadrack called immediately after that and coming to my rescue again, he took me to the airport to pick up said baggage. What would I do without my friends here in SA?
I just tried the TV and it is now up and running – just in time for the SABC evening news. Tomorrow it is going to be 25 degrees. Life is good.
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