One year ago today was Warren’s memorial service. Not feeling like doing much, I decided to be slow today, to just read and write and go for a walk. This afternoon I was reading a book a poems I brought with me, and came across John Updike’s poem, Perfection Wasted. This part caught my attention:
And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop.
Warren was magic! And I don’t want us to forget that magic. I haven’t written much about Warren on this blog. It’s still painful, and very hard to put my emotions into words. But when I log on to the stat counter and see the number of people who are regularly checking this site (thanks for that), I feel that perhaps, in addition to sharing travel stories, this is a good venue for keeping the memory of Warren alive. That’s really very important to me. I don’t want any of us to forget Warren’s “own brand of magic.”
So, in addition to sharing accounts of my experiences here in Africa, I want to also (perhaps weekly) share something about Warren, or about how I miss him, or about...I don’t know. I’m not exactly sure what form it will take just yet. Just some type of remembrance.
‘WARREN SONGS’
Perhaps for starters I will share a little ritual I have developed since arriving in Africa. After the accident, my good friend Carla made me several CDs with songs that have helped me through some of the worst moments. Thank you for that Carla.
I lean on those songs heavily now. I can’t imagine how I would be handling this trip without my iPod, without the immediate connection I feel with Warren whenever I turn on my “Warren songs.”
There are 25 Warren songs in total. I actually have several thousand songs on my iPod, but I have yet to listen to any songs other than the ‘Warren songs’. I listen to them over and over. I never tire of them.
Here Without You
I start virtually every day by listening to the song “Here Without You” by Three Doors Down. The lyrics are comforting to me, as they give voice to exactly how I feel about being all the way over here in Africa, all alone and without my Warren. If you don’t know the song, here are the lyrics:
-A hundred days have made me older since the last time that I saw your pretty face. A thousand lies have made me colder and I don't think I can look at this the same. But all the miles that separate disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face.
-I'm here without you baby, but you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams. And tonight it's only you and me.
-The miles just keep rollin' as the people leave their way to say hello. I've heard this life is overrated, but I hope that it gets better as we go.
-I'm here without you baby, but you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams. And tonight it’s only you and me.
-Everything I know, and anywhere I go, it gets hard but it won’t take away my love. And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done, it gets hard but it won’t take away my love.
-I'm here without you baby, but you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you baby, and I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams. And tonight it’s only you and me.
The Promise
Of all the songs, the most important one to me is “The Promise” by Tracy Chapman. Warren and I didn’t have a particular song that was ‘our song’ when he was alive, but we do now. Whenever the panic washes over me, this song helps. It reminds me that I just need to be patient. Here are the lyrics:
-If you wait for me, then I'll come for you. Although I've traveled far, I always hold a place for you in my heart.
-If you think of me, if you miss me once in awhile, then I'll return to you. I'll return and fill that space in your heart.
-Remembering, your touch, your kiss, your warm embrace. I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting.
-If you dream of me like I dream of you, in a place that's warm and dark, in a place where I can feel the beating of your heart.
-Remembering, your touch, your kiss, your warm embrace. I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting.
-I've longed for you and I have desired to see your face, your smile, to be with you wherever you are.
-Remembering, your touch, your kiss, your warm embrace. I'll find my way back to you. Please say you'll be waiting.
-Together again, it would feel so good to be in your arms, where all my journeys end. If you can make a promise, if it's one that you can keep, I vow to come for you if you wait for me.
-And say you'll hold a place for me in your heart.
I'll spare you the lyrics of all 25 songs, though I reserve the 'right' to post lyrics of other Warren songs at a later date. :) That's the beauty of having your own blog.
It occurs to me that perhaps these Remembering Warren entries might come off as corny or sentimental sometimes. But, I'll risk it. It makes me feel really good knowing that, in some small way, I can keep Warren's memory alive in each of us.
Another PV Tribune article about Warren
The following is a reprint from an article in the Prescott Valley Tribune, October 17th, 2007, by reporter Sue Tone. A similar article will be published in the Prescott Courier sometime this week.
One year ago tomorrow marks the first anniversary of the death of local pilot, Warren Parkes. An arts academy is establishing a memorial scholarship in Parkes' name to honor the man whom both adults and children respected and liked.
Parkes was the first President of the Board of Directors for Volante Academy of the arts in 2003, said Jan Luke executive director of the academy. He also designed Volante's logo that the academy continues to use today.
So she is offering a memorial scholarship fund that will help pay students' tuition and class fees and also purchase musical instruments and equipment, Luke said.
"All this past year, I was thinking I just wish I could do something in memory of Warren," said Luke.
So she is offering a memorial scholarship that will help pay students' tuition and class fees and also purchase musical instruments and equipment," Luke said.
"We try not to turn away kids whose parents can't afford the lessons. We need another piano or keyboard so we cant teach two lessons at the same time," Luke said, adding that the academy's microphones and sound system are old and not of good quality.
Parkes died in an airplane accident on Oct. 18, 2006, that also claimed the lives of four others.
"I am thrilled to hear about this program," said Warren's wife, Betsy Parkes. "He did love children and felt very strongly about introducing young people to creative expression."
Luke said Warren's father, Tom, agrees that the scholarship is a good idea because of his son's love for children.
"I really can't pinpoint a specific time when Warren developed his love for kids," Tom Parkes said. "Even as a teenager, when he was asked to babysit kids not much younger than himself, he planned fun activities to keep everyone involved."
Those interested in learning more or to contribute to the memorial scholarship may call Jan Luke at 772-1218.
One year ago tomorrow marks the first anniversary of the death of local pilot, Warren Parkes. An arts academy is establishing a memorial scholarship in Parkes' name to honor the man whom both adults and children respected and liked.
Parkes was the first President of the Board of Directors for Volante Academy of the arts in 2003, said Jan Luke executive director of the academy. He also designed Volante's logo that the academy continues to use today.
So she is offering a memorial scholarship fund that will help pay students' tuition and class fees and also purchase musical instruments and equipment, Luke said.
"All this past year, I was thinking I just wish I could do something in memory of Warren," said Luke.
So she is offering a memorial scholarship that will help pay students' tuition and class fees and also purchase musical instruments and equipment," Luke said.
"We try not to turn away kids whose parents can't afford the lessons. We need another piano or keyboard so we cant teach two lessons at the same time," Luke said, adding that the academy's microphones and sound system are old and not of good quality.
Parkes died in an airplane accident on Oct. 18, 2006, that also claimed the lives of four others.
"I am thrilled to hear about this program," said Warren's wife, Betsy Parkes. "He did love children and felt very strongly about introducing young people to creative expression."
Luke said Warren's father, Tom, agrees that the scholarship is a good idea because of his son's love for children.
"I really can't pinpoint a specific time when Warren developed his love for kids," Tom Parkes said. "Even as a teenager, when he was asked to babysit kids not much younger than himself, he planned fun activities to keep everyone involved."
Those interested in learning more or to contribute to the memorial scholarship may call Jan Luke at 772-1218.
An introduction to Khayelitsha
The orphanage where I am volunteering for the next two months is located in the heart of a poor black township called Khayelitsha (pop 1 million). As part of my training, I was given a tour of Khayelitsha in order to provide me with some historical, social and cultural context for my work.
Since arriving in South Africa over two months ago, I have seen many townships, and assumed Khayelitsha would be similar to others.
I was therefore not prepared to see what I saw in Khayelitsha—the crushing poverty, the miles upon miles of tiny shacks made of little more than thin plywood, cardboard, burlap and corrugated metal. It was truly staggering to see such destitution on such a large scale.
I probably learned facts about Khayelitsha during the tour, but I haven’t retained much. I will surely learn more over the next few months.
In the meantime, I wanted to share some photographs of the township with you. I will surely write a great deal more about my experiences at the orphanage, about the children and what brought them there, about the social and economic forces that make an orphanage like Baphumelele even exist at all (let alone bust at the seams). So, I wanted to provide you with a small portion of the context that I was provided on my Khayelitsha tour. What follows are not great pictures, as they are all taken through a mini-bus window (it’s not safe to have the window open.) But they are a start.
Since arriving in South Africa over two months ago, I have seen many townships, and assumed Khayelitsha would be similar to others.
I was therefore not prepared to see what I saw in Khayelitsha—the crushing poverty, the miles upon miles of tiny shacks made of little more than thin plywood, cardboard, burlap and corrugated metal. It was truly staggering to see such destitution on such a large scale.
I probably learned facts about Khayelitsha during the tour, but I haven’t retained much. I will surely learn more over the next few months.
In the meantime, I wanted to share some photographs of the township with you. I will surely write a great deal more about my experiences at the orphanage, about the children and what brought them there, about the social and economic forces that make an orphanage like Baphumelele even exist at all (let alone bust at the seams). So, I wanted to provide you with a small portion of the context that I was provided on my Khayelitsha tour. What follows are not great pictures, as they are all taken through a mini-bus window (it’s not safe to have the window open.) But they are a start.
"Bap"
I have completed my first shift of volunteer work at the orphanage. I liked it. I’m glad I’m here. I plan to share much more about the children in weeks to come, so for this week I thought I’d just give a quick rundown of the ‘facts.’
ABOUT THE ORPHANAGE
I am working at Baphumelele, a “children’s home” in the township of Khayelitsha. Opened in 2001, the home provides a safe haven and loving home for abused and abandoned children who would otherwise face a life on the streets. The center now cares for around 100 children ranging in age from newborn to 18 years.
The center has actually gotten quiet a lot publicity over the last couple of years, including visits from singers Elton John, Beyonce Knowles, and U2's Bono. Yet despite this publicity, the center still struggles, with just one caregiver for every ten children. Thus, Baphumelele (or “Bap” as we call it) needs volunteers to carry out basic tasks like helping with child development, laundry, washing, feeding, homework, food collection and a variety of other tasks.
WHAT DO WE DO ALL DAY
Here’s a dry run-down of what we do each day. You can skip this section if “I work with orphans from newborn to 5 years old” is a good enough answer for you.
The work day starts at 7am with bottle feeding, teeth brushing and getting shoes on. Older kids are then escorted to the “creche” (kindergarten) and we take a morning break.
At 10am, we are back down with the babies for two hours of playtime. Right now the volunteer-to-baby ratio is really good (there are 12 babies) so we are able to give them each lots of individual attention. After playing, we help prepare lunch, then feed the babies and put them down for a nap.
At that point, we get a two hour break—just long enough for lunch and a short nap—and then it’s back down for our longest shift, from 2:45 to 7pm. We pick up the toddlers from the crèche (which is just next door), then attempt some semblance of structured playtime until around 5pm, when we help make dinner, feed the children, then help with bath time and teeth brushing. Then, time permitting, we play for a bit longer, generally watching the ever-popular Barney as a pre-sleeptime treat. And promptly at 7pm, it’s bedtime, aka “La La Time.”
So, that’s our day—7am to 7pm with plenty of breaks. It goes by very quickly, except for the 2:45-5pm structured playtime. That portion tends to get boring because we need to come up with some new things to do.
(Got any good ideas on ACTIVITIES we could do for a group of kids with ages ranging from 1-5 years old? I’d love to hear them! However, please keep the following three things in mind:
(1) There is no money to buy materials or toys. However, if the activity requires something that is quite cheap, the volunteers can buy it.
(2) Activities that require a lot of sharing and quiet cooperation are probably not a good fit. The kids really aren’t very good at sharing, and having witnessed the situation first hand, I have no grand ambitions to change that single-handedly. Imagine: the kids live in a room with 6 to 10 other children, the place is always crowded and hectic, and there aren’t many toys so the children must share everything with 27 other children. They don’t have anything that belongs only to them, so when they do get their hands on something, they don’t want to let it go.
(3) The staff speak to the children in the local language “Xhosa”, which is one of those cool clicking languages but is also a bit of a barrier for us volunteers when communicating with the kids. They do speak some English, but activities that are really intensive in the spoken word are probably not a good fit.)
THE VOLUNTEERS
I am part of a team of five volunteers who always work the same shifts, with three days working, then three days off. My shift-mates are great! There’s Kristin from Illinois, Molly from Baltimore, Kaity from Canada, and Henriette from Holland. I’m the granny of the bunch—almost double most of their ages. But luckily, I usually forget the staggering age difference, since we all get along so well.
On our first shift, we also had Mary from Massachusetts and Gina from California, but they are now off exploring eastern South Africa. We’ll miss you guys!
OUR ‘FLAT’
As I mentioned before, I sleep in Khayelitsha half of the time, staying at the volunteer apartment on the orphanage grounds. Khayelitsha is not a safe place so we never leave the orphanage grounds. In general, however, I do feel safe there. Not sure if that impression is well-founded, but I certainly have no problems getting to sleep at night.
At right is a picture of the flat from the street. Our flat is virtually the only second story building around, so it affords good views of the neighborhood. That pink wall in the foreground is the wall that surrounds the entire orphanage grounds.
The pictures below were taken inside the flat: at left, my bedroom; at right, the dining area (with Molly, Kaity and Kristen chatting at the table).
ABOUT THE ORPHANAGE
I am working at Baphumelele, a “children’s home” in the township of Khayelitsha. Opened in 2001, the home provides a safe haven and loving home for abused and abandoned children who would otherwise face a life on the streets. The center now cares for around 100 children ranging in age from newborn to 18 years.
The center has actually gotten quiet a lot publicity over the last couple of years, including visits from singers Elton John, Beyonce Knowles, and U2's Bono. Yet despite this publicity, the center still struggles, with just one caregiver for every ten children. Thus, Baphumelele (or “Bap” as we call it) needs volunteers to carry out basic tasks like helping with child development, laundry, washing, feeding, homework, food collection and a variety of other tasks. WHAT DO WE DO ALL DAY
Here’s a dry run-down of what we do each day. You can skip this section if “I work with orphans from newborn to 5 years old” is a good enough answer for you.
The work day starts at 7am with bottle feeding, teeth brushing and getting shoes on. Older kids are then escorted to the “creche” (kindergarten) and we take a morning break.
At 10am, we are back down with the babies for two hours of playtime. Right now the volunteer-to-baby ratio is really good (there are 12 babies) so we are able to give them each lots of individual attention. After playing, we help prepare lunch, then feed the babies and put them down for a nap.
At that point, we get a two hour break—just long enough for lunch and a short nap—and then it’s back down for our longest shift, from 2:45 to 7pm. We pick up the toddlers from the crèche (which is just next door), then attempt some semblance of structured playtime until around 5pm, when we help make dinner, feed the children, then help with bath time and teeth brushing. Then, time permitting, we play for a bit longer, generally watching the ever-popular Barney as a pre-sleeptime treat. And promptly at 7pm, it’s bedtime, aka “La La Time.”
So, that’s our day—7am to 7pm with plenty of breaks. It goes by very quickly, except for the 2:45-5pm structured playtime. That portion tends to get boring because we need to come up with some new things to do.
(Got any good ideas on ACTIVITIES we could do for a group of kids with ages ranging from 1-5 years old? I’d love to hear them! However, please keep the following three things in mind:
(1) There is no money to buy materials or toys. However, if the activity requires something that is quite cheap, the volunteers can buy it.
(2) Activities that require a lot of sharing and quiet cooperation are probably not a good fit. The kids really aren’t very good at sharing, and having witnessed the situation first hand, I have no grand ambitions to change that single-handedly. Imagine: the kids live in a room with 6 to 10 other children, the place is always crowded and hectic, and there aren’t many toys so the children must share everything with 27 other children. They don’t have anything that belongs only to them, so when they do get their hands on something, they don’t want to let it go.
(3) The staff speak to the children in the local language “Xhosa”, which is one of those cool clicking languages but is also a bit of a barrier for us volunteers when communicating with the kids. They do speak some English, but activities that are really intensive in the spoken word are probably not a good fit.)
THE VOLUNTEERS
I am part of a team of five volunteers who always work the same shifts, with three days working, then three days off. My shift-mates are great! There’s Kristin from Illinois, Molly from Baltimore, Kaity from Canada, and Henriette from Holland. I’m the granny of the bunch—almost double most of their ages. But luckily, I usually forget the staggering age difference, since we all get along so well.
On our first shift, we also had Mary from Massachusetts and Gina from California, but they are now off exploring eastern South Africa. We’ll miss you guys!
OUR ‘FLAT’
As I mentioned before, I sleep in Khayelitsha half of the time, staying at the volunteer apartment on the orphanage grounds. Khayelitsha is not a safe place so we never leave the orphanage grounds. In general, however, I do feel safe there. Not sure if that impression is well-founded, but I certainly have no problems getting to sleep at night.At right is a picture of the flat from the street. Our flat is virtually the only second story building around, so it affords good views of the neighborhood. That pink wall in the foreground is the wall that surrounds the entire orphanage grounds.
The pictures below were taken inside the flat: at left, my bedroom; at right, the dining area (with Molly, Kaity and Kristen chatting at the table).
My home away from home in Cape Town
While working at the orphanage, I’ll be splitting my time between Cape Town and Khayelitsha. I’ll spend three nights a week in the volunteer apartment on the orphanage grounds in Khayelitsha, then, after my 3-day shift is done, I'll spend the next three nights in the Aviva house in Cape Town. Then, repeat, repeat, repeat until my eight weeks are up.It’s a good plan. I can spend time helping the kids, plus have ample breaks in between for myself. And the Aviva house is actually really comfy. I borrowed some pictures from the Aviva website to show you what the house looks like. At right is a photo of the house from the front; below are some shots from the inside.
We’re in the Observatory neighborhood, which I really like! More about that later though.
The Waterfront
One of Cape Town’s most popular places to visit is the waterfront (officially the Victoria & Albert Waterfront, or V&A Waterfront for short). I went there with the group on the last day of the tour, and we explored for a bit then had a nice farewell dinner together.
Yesterday, Katie and I visited there again to walk around, have lunch and catch a movie (“Knocked Up”…pretty good). I’m sure I’ll be back there many times over the next few months, so I thought I'd share some pictures. It’s a really nice place to be. Good vibes. :)
Yesterday, Katie and I visited there again to walk around, have lunch and catch a movie (“Knocked Up”…pretty good). I’m sure I’ll be back there many times over the next few months, so I thought I'd share some pictures. It’s a really nice place to be. Good vibes. :)
Warren's Farewell Letter
Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of Warren's death. I thought it'd be nice if we all read his farewell letter in commemoration of the day. This is the letter that Warren's good friend Fulton Wright read at the memorial service. (For those of you that weren't there, a bit of background on the letter: In 2005 Warren had a medical exam that showed a serious problem with his heart. The initial prognosis was quiet bad. At that time, Warren wrote the following letter to his family and friends, then just saved it on his laptop in case the dire prognosis turned out to be correct. Luckily, with further tests, we found out that Warren's heart was healthy. It was just an error on the initial report.) And that is how we have this beautiful farewell letter from Warren, saying one final goodbye.
---
My dearest Elizabeth, Betsy, woman of my dreams, etc., etc.,
I don’t have much to will, or much of a will, and the world is too parceled a place to have the luxury of getting buried under an oak without some copper-clad sarcophagus. So here is what I know now, what I would like, now, as I consider the possibility, however remote, that I won’t have the opportunity to be this verbose in the future.
I’m sitting here in bed, watching your back, as I ever will be. I think it’s human nature (however flawed) to believe in an afterlife, and thus the first stipulation of my will: I will that there be an afterlife, and I will that you be there in it, and I in yours.
This whole step, “the last will and testament” seems melodramatic. I’m alive, I plan to be alive. In fact, I think I’ll be more alive than I ever have been, having brushed with death. But my grandfather passed in his sleep, and ever since, I have wondered whether this sleep would be my last. When I think of the “what if” of it, all I can think is what I would have wanted to do with you, the two of us together in all the back yards of the world, finding meaning in the mundane.
Some stuff I would have wanted to do with you before I die:
-Watch the lights of NYC come on from the 64th floor of 30 Rockefeller Center
-Exchange vows in Central Park
-Show you off at my high school reunion
-Breathe in the fresh air of Assisi
-Exhale the foul air of Venice
-Hike across the backbone of New Zealand
-Rub each other’s necks after craning at a total solar eclipse
-Fly in some developing country to deliver something useful
-Sit together at a table where a deal is struck that does some good in the world
-Watch the midnight sun
-Watch the aurora australis
-Help others care, even if caring doesn’t matter
-Experience the moments where we’re being the change we want to see
They grow sort of amorphous from there, but get more specific as the horizon nears. Learning is what I care about most, and I learn by doing, so doing things with you is the best of all worlds.
If you’re reading this, and I’m gone, I hope you do all those things anyway, because whether I’m here or not, we’ll be together doing them. Then, I hope you find joy in letting go of me—not my memory, but the regret of my absence—and you let me fly off into the universe to keep the exploration going. Then, if you will, join me someday far in the future, where I’ll be waiting.
Mom and Dad:
If the world were full of people like you, it would have been taken up into heaven. I feel like I cast you away as a kid, trying to square the perfect world they taught in church with the imperfect one you did your best to make better. I’m sorry for that, but I hope sticking around these last few years has made up for it. I’m proud to have had you as friends, and I love you for letting me become just that, not telling me how to behave.
If my short life has been for anything, I hope you see it as a reflection of the wonderful combination of two pure, imperfect but loving hearts. I feel that love, and will feel that love, beyond the grave. And don’t let my departure from the fold bug you too much: if your God exhibits any of the attributes you claim, then we’ll see each other again. If not, he’s a pretty crappy god, and I don’t want to meet him anyway.
Thank you for teaching me to see the universe for how it is, and for being willing to accept the consequences of that. I hope other parents will show the courage and restraint you have. Thank you for letting me be, and letting me be me.
To my sisters and relatives and those in my pitifully small circle of friends:
Some of you have said I’m smart, “brilliant,” or whatever. And look what it’s gotten me. Many of you are vastly wiser (you know who you are, because we’ve talked, and lately I have always tried to talk with those who are smarter and wiser than I have been). But here’s what I know (not think—know): we are conscious observers of an unimaginably vast universe. We are each unique and beautiful, like the stars we’ve seen through telescopes or the shapes and scenes we’ve witnessed from the air. We are all a part of this universe, to act in it as we see fit. If you believe something because you fear knowing otherwise, stop believing and start learning. Belief gets people hurt. Especially when believers think they know something.
To me, there should be no room for fear or regret (as I sob in the writing of this), and I hope I exist in your memories as someone who didn’t fear much. So I ask this of each of you: go out today and do something you’ve wanted or needed, but have feared to do. At least at the moment of this writing, I will feel like I’ve accomplished something, which has always been a challenge for a neurotic overachiever such as myself.
So, uh… I should probably finish with TS Eliot’s passage, since it’s some of the only truth I know, but I’ve used it in my email forever. So here’s my own, from the healthy heart of a kid half my age:
Oft I’ve stood in the starlit silence
Of the boundless heavens.
In awe and wonder at the things that I see,
In comfort with the frigid peace of Creation.
Someday I will know the heaven’s secrets.
Not in the peace I now feel,
Not when my body shivers
In the pain of the cold night air.
Someday my Creator will sit with me,
And will teach me,
And all things will be revealed,
And my only shiver will be in delight.
I have delighted in knowing all of you, and I look forward to delighting with all of you in the eternities that follow.
Love,
Warren
---
My dearest Elizabeth, Betsy, woman of my dreams, etc., etc.,
I don’t have much to will, or much of a will, and the world is too parceled a place to have the luxury of getting buried under an oak without some copper-clad sarcophagus. So here is what I know now, what I would like, now, as I consider the possibility, however remote, that I won’t have the opportunity to be this verbose in the future.
I’m sitting here in bed, watching your back, as I ever will be. I think it’s human nature (however flawed) to believe in an afterlife, and thus the first stipulation of my will: I will that there be an afterlife, and I will that you be there in it, and I in yours.
This whole step, “the last will and testament” seems melodramatic. I’m alive, I plan to be alive. In fact, I think I’ll be more alive than I ever have been, having brushed with death. But my grandfather passed in his sleep, and ever since, I have wondered whether this sleep would be my last. When I think of the “what if” of it, all I can think is what I would have wanted to do with you, the two of us together in all the back yards of the world, finding meaning in the mundane.
Some stuff I would have wanted to do with you before I die:
-Watch the lights of NYC come on from the 64th floor of 30 Rockefeller Center
-Exchange vows in Central Park
-Show you off at my high school reunion
-Breathe in the fresh air of Assisi
-Exhale the foul air of Venice
-Hike across the backbone of New Zealand
-Rub each other’s necks after craning at a total solar eclipse
-Fly in some developing country to deliver something useful
-Sit together at a table where a deal is struck that does some good in the world
-Watch the midnight sun
-Watch the aurora australis
-Help others care, even if caring doesn’t matter
-Experience the moments where we’re being the change we want to see
They grow sort of amorphous from there, but get more specific as the horizon nears. Learning is what I care about most, and I learn by doing, so doing things with you is the best of all worlds.
If you’re reading this, and I’m gone, I hope you do all those things anyway, because whether I’m here or not, we’ll be together doing them. Then, I hope you find joy in letting go of me—not my memory, but the regret of my absence—and you let me fly off into the universe to keep the exploration going. Then, if you will, join me someday far in the future, where I’ll be waiting.
Mom and Dad:
If the world were full of people like you, it would have been taken up into heaven. I feel like I cast you away as a kid, trying to square the perfect world they taught in church with the imperfect one you did your best to make better. I’m sorry for that, but I hope sticking around these last few years has made up for it. I’m proud to have had you as friends, and I love you for letting me become just that, not telling me how to behave.
If my short life has been for anything, I hope you see it as a reflection of the wonderful combination of two pure, imperfect but loving hearts. I feel that love, and will feel that love, beyond the grave. And don’t let my departure from the fold bug you too much: if your God exhibits any of the attributes you claim, then we’ll see each other again. If not, he’s a pretty crappy god, and I don’t want to meet him anyway.
Thank you for teaching me to see the universe for how it is, and for being willing to accept the consequences of that. I hope other parents will show the courage and restraint you have. Thank you for letting me be, and letting me be me.
To my sisters and relatives and those in my pitifully small circle of friends:
Some of you have said I’m smart, “brilliant,” or whatever. And look what it’s gotten me. Many of you are vastly wiser (you know who you are, because we’ve talked, and lately I have always tried to talk with those who are smarter and wiser than I have been). But here’s what I know (not think—know): we are conscious observers of an unimaginably vast universe. We are each unique and beautiful, like the stars we’ve seen through telescopes or the shapes and scenes we’ve witnessed from the air. We are all a part of this universe, to act in it as we see fit. If you believe something because you fear knowing otherwise, stop believing and start learning. Belief gets people hurt. Especially when believers think they know something.
To me, there should be no room for fear or regret (as I sob in the writing of this), and I hope I exist in your memories as someone who didn’t fear much. So I ask this of each of you: go out today and do something you’ve wanted or needed, but have feared to do. At least at the moment of this writing, I will feel like I’ve accomplished something, which has always been a challenge for a neurotic overachiever such as myself.
So, uh… I should probably finish with TS Eliot’s passage, since it’s some of the only truth I know, but I’ve used it in my email forever. So here’s my own, from the healthy heart of a kid half my age:
Oft I’ve stood in the starlit silence
Of the boundless heavens.
In awe and wonder at the things that I see,
In comfort with the frigid peace of Creation.
Someday I will know the heaven’s secrets.
Not in the peace I now feel,
Not when my body shivers
In the pain of the cold night air.
Someday my Creator will sit with me,
And will teach me,
And all things will be revealed,
And my only shiver will be in delight.
I have delighted in knowing all of you, and I look forward to delighting with all of you in the eternities that follow.
Love,
Warren
On to the next leg…
My Gap tour has ended. I will miss all the good friends I’ve made on this trip. I hope to get together with a number of them in the future, either in their countries or mine. Here’s a picture of a couple of my new friends—-Mary and David—-smashed into the back of a share taxi with Arika and I. I will definitely try to visit Mary and David in Scotland soon.
I am now on to the next leg of my journey—the volunteering part. I’m settled into the Aviva House in the Observatory area of Cape Town, and will start work at the township children’s home next week. I’ll write more on that later.
One note: Turns out I do not have wireless access at the Aviva house so my internet use will still be limited. There’s an internet café around the corner, so I will try to get on at least twice a week. Keep sending emails—I love reading them—and keep being patient with my inability to reply quickly. :)
Thanks!
I am now on to the next leg of my journey—the volunteering part. I’m settled into the Aviva House in the Observatory area of Cape Town, and will start work at the township children’s home next week. I’ll write more on that later. One note: Turns out I do not have wireless access at the Aviva house so my internet use will still be limited. There’s an internet café around the corner, so I will try to get on at least twice a week. Keep sending emails—I love reading them—and keep being patient with my inability to reply quickly. :)
Thanks!
The Cape Peninsula
written 10/16/07
I traveled around the Cape Peninsula with both the tour and the volunteer agency. What follows is a combination of those days:
SEALS
We visited Duiker Island—on a “Warren Marine” vessel, mind you—to see the large Cape Fur Seal colony. I can’t tell you exactly how many seals were there (I can’t estimate to save my life, and the population can fluctuate from 600 to 5,000). Let’s just say: a lot.
I was torn between watching their big blubbery bodies laboriously fight for each inch of movement on land, or watching their sleek, torpedo-shaped bodies zoom effortlessly through the water surrounding the island.
And gee, isn’t it so cute when seals swim upside-down with their bellies up and flippers flapping above water? I don’t want to spoil the cute-factor of this for you, but I learned why seals do this: their blood vessels are concentrated in their flipper ends so in order to get heat to their bodies, they hold their flippers out of the water. Interesting.
Later we went to a viewpoint across the harbor, and I photograph Duiker Island from afar (right).
PENGUINS: We also visited the penguin colony at Boulders Beach.
Yes, to answer your collective question: penguins are endemic to Africa. Here’s the information board at the entrance proving it (plus some other interesting stuff, if you can read text that small).
I decided not to work with penguins at SANCCOB after all. The penguins are jackasses. (Sound harsh? Didn’t look carefully enough at the above picture, did you? I’m not doing this blog for my health people. j/k)
Really though, did I forget to mention that I canceled my volunteering placement with the penguins. Hmmm… well I did. After not enjoying the monkey experience, I decided six weeks with penguins would probably produce the same result. So, instead of working with penguins I am going to work on a sustainable development project in a rural area of Eastern Cape (just a short 20 HOUR bus ride away.) More on that new job later…
Anyway, the visit with the penguins was fun. They are so hilarious. I visited the colony twice and loved it both times. Well, I loved it aside from the constant pbst pbst pbst of trying to keep the free-floating penguin feathers out of my mouth. The little dudes were molting and the air was full of bitty feathers (especially the second visit, when it wasn’t drizzly.)
I was lucky enough to catch a performance of sorts—a rather shrill Penguin Idol was underway in the middle of the beach. A number of penguin fans had gathered in a circle around the performers. One penguin would shriek non-stop for a minute or so. Then, a moment of silence followed by shrieks from the opposing penguins, a duo this time. Then silence. Then repeat, repeat. Not sure who won. I got bored.
So, uh…after my visits I’m even more convinced that penguins are up to something. What are they planning?
WHALES
We saw A LOT of whales. Really, there was a glut of whales on both days, and they were in no hurry to get anywhere. They rolled around, bobbed up and down, made cool noises. I’d say we had 12-15 separate whale sightings—close ones, right near the shore, and often in groups of three or four.
And now I must make a correction: that wasn’t an Orca I saw at Haga Haga. The whales that are common around the tip of Africa about this time of year are Southern Right Whales. I was confused by the irregular white patches common on the bellies of Southern Right Whales. (They are so named because they are the ‘right’—or correct—ones for whale hunting.)
I have no pictures to show you because I know better than to try to photograph a whale. It’s virtually impossible to capture anything interesting, and anyway, I had some communing to do.
CAPE POINT
We also visited the Cape Point Natural Reserve, home of the da-da-da-dum… Cape of Good Hope. Ah, that place on the map I’ve stared at countless times.
It’s not really the southernmost tip of Africa like most people think, but it’s the southwestern most. That’s not nothin’.
When I was there with the tour group, we went on a really great hike up to the top of the Cape of Good Hope rocky outcrop (which probably has some more official sounding name than that), then along the rocky cliffs.
En route, we saw whales, flowers, and two faunal surprises: coastal ostriches and GIANT rats. Who knew ostriches live along the coast?
And bona-fide Rodents Of Unusual Size. I didn’t fight them though. These are the tame Cape ROUSes, sister species to ferocious Fire Swamp ROUSes.
After our hike, we enjoyed a delicious lunch at the cliff-top restaurant. We were all giddy at how great the food was! And the ‘entertainment’ was good too—entertainment in the form of crafty baboons and birds. Every five minutes or so, you’d hear screams and look over to see an aggressive bird swooping in for a piece of pizza or a large (!) baboon running along the fence and grabbing at tables for scraps of someone’s lunch. At one point, a bird flew THREE INCHES FROM MY NOSE to grab the french fry en route to my mouth. It was shocking (yes, I did scream) but alas…no fry for birdy. Now who’s the crafty one, huh? huh?
Then, when I was there with Aviva (the volunteer agency), it seemed we couldn’t turn a corner without seeing baboons. Before I came to Africa, I’d imagined baboon sightings to be extremely rare, something that required long treks in jungles and wise old men trained in tracking the might beasts. Nope, there’s a ton of them here in South Africa, hangin by the road, grooming each other (just like me and Skunky!), waiting for some schmuck to open their car window so they can snatch something from inside.
In the picture on the left, that’s the car door in the bottom corner, which I left in to show that I hadn’t zoomed in for that shot. We really got that close (windows closed, of course).
Our favorites were the babies of course. So spunky, so like human kids!
SO THAT'S ABOUT IT…
That about captures the peninsula tours. Right now I’m sitting in a café near my house—“Obz Café”—writing this entry. The cute couple next to me is planning their ‘special day’ with a wedding planner. Gee, I’m so happy for them.
Tomorrow I go to a hotel, somewhere. I don’t know where, really. The volunteer coordinator recommended it and arranged it for me, including transport there and back. She’s great! I’m going there in order to have some time alone for the anniversary of the crash, which is this Thursday.
I return to the house on Thursday evening and start at the children’s home on Friday. (Today was the training.)
I traveled around the Cape Peninsula with both the tour and the volunteer agency. What follows is a combination of those days:
SEALS
We visited Duiker Island—on a “Warren Marine” vessel, mind you—to see the large Cape Fur Seal colony. I can’t tell you exactly how many seals were there (I can’t estimate to save my life, and the population can fluctuate from 600 to 5,000). Let’s just say: a lot.
I was torn between watching their big blubbery bodies laboriously fight for each inch of movement on land, or watching their sleek, torpedo-shaped bodies zoom effortlessly through the water surrounding the island.
And gee, isn’t it so cute when seals swim upside-down with their bellies up and flippers flapping above water? I don’t want to spoil the cute-factor of this for you, but I learned why seals do this: their blood vessels are concentrated in their flipper ends so in order to get heat to their bodies, they hold their flippers out of the water. Interesting.Later we went to a viewpoint across the harbor, and I photograph Duiker Island from afar (right).
PENGUINS: We also visited the penguin colony at Boulders Beach.
Yes, to answer your collective question: penguins are endemic to Africa. Here’s the information board at the entrance proving it (plus some other interesting stuff, if you can read text that small).
I decided not to work with penguins at SANCCOB after all. The penguins are jackasses. (Sound harsh? Didn’t look carefully enough at the above picture, did you? I’m not doing this blog for my health people. j/k)Really though, did I forget to mention that I canceled my volunteering placement with the penguins. Hmmm… well I did. After not enjoying the monkey experience, I decided six weeks with penguins would probably produce the same result. So, instead of working with penguins I am going to work on a sustainable development project in a rural area of Eastern Cape (just a short 20 HOUR bus ride away.) More on that new job later…
Anyway, the visit with the penguins was fun. They are so hilarious. I visited the colony twice and loved it both times. Well, I loved it aside from the constant pbst pbst pbst of trying to keep the free-floating penguin feathers out of my mouth. The little dudes were molting and the air was full of bitty feathers (especially the second visit, when it wasn’t drizzly.)I was lucky enough to catch a performance of sorts—a rather shrill Penguin Idol was underway in the middle of the beach. A number of penguin fans had gathered in a circle around the performers. One penguin would shriek non-stop for a minute or so. Then, a moment of silence followed by shrieks from the opposing penguins, a duo this time. Then silence. Then repeat, repeat. Not sure who won. I got bored.
So, uh…after my visits I’m even more convinced that penguins are up to something. What are they planning? WHALES
We saw A LOT of whales. Really, there was a glut of whales on both days, and they were in no hurry to get anywhere. They rolled around, bobbed up and down, made cool noises. I’d say we had 12-15 separate whale sightings—close ones, right near the shore, and often in groups of three or four.
And now I must make a correction: that wasn’t an Orca I saw at Haga Haga. The whales that are common around the tip of Africa about this time of year are Southern Right Whales. I was confused by the irregular white patches common on the bellies of Southern Right Whales. (They are so named because they are the ‘right’—or correct—ones for whale hunting.)
I have no pictures to show you because I know better than to try to photograph a whale. It’s virtually impossible to capture anything interesting, and anyway, I had some communing to do.
CAPE POINT
We also visited the Cape Point Natural Reserve, home of the da-da-da-dum… Cape of Good Hope. Ah, that place on the map I’ve stared at countless times.
It’s not really the southernmost tip of Africa like most people think, but it’s the southwestern most. That’s not nothin’.
When I was there with the tour group, we went on a really great hike up to the top of the Cape of Good Hope rocky outcrop (which probably has some more official sounding name than that), then along the rocky cliffs.
En route, we saw whales, flowers, and two faunal surprises: coastal ostriches and GIANT rats. Who knew ostriches live along the coast?
And bona-fide Rodents Of Unusual Size. I didn’t fight them though. These are the tame Cape ROUSes, sister species to ferocious Fire Swamp ROUSes.
After our hike, we enjoyed a delicious lunch at the cliff-top restaurant. We were all giddy at how great the food was! And the ‘entertainment’ was good too—entertainment in the form of crafty baboons and birds. Every five minutes or so, you’d hear screams and look over to see an aggressive bird swooping in for a piece of pizza or a large (!) baboon running along the fence and grabbing at tables for scraps of someone’s lunch. At one point, a bird flew THREE INCHES FROM MY NOSE to grab the french fry en route to my mouth. It was shocking (yes, I did scream) but alas…no fry for birdy. Now who’s the crafty one, huh? huh? Then, when I was there with Aviva (the volunteer agency), it seemed we couldn’t turn a corner without seeing baboons. Before I came to Africa, I’d imagined baboon sightings to be extremely rare, something that required long treks in jungles and wise old men trained in tracking the might beasts. Nope, there’s a ton of them here in South Africa, hangin by the road, grooming each other (just like me and Skunky!), waiting for some schmuck to open their car window so they can snatch something from inside. In the picture on the left, that’s the car door in the bottom corner, which I left in to show that I hadn’t zoomed in for that shot. We really got that close (windows closed, of course).
Our favorites were the babies of course. So spunky, so like human kids! 
SO THAT'S ABOUT IT…
That about captures the peninsula tours. Right now I’m sitting in a café near my house—“Obz Café”—writing this entry. The cute couple next to me is planning their ‘special day’ with a wedding planner. Gee, I’m so happy for them.
Tomorrow I go to a hotel, somewhere. I don’t know where, really. The volunteer coordinator recommended it and arranged it for me, including transport there and back. She’s great! I’m going there in order to have some time alone for the anniversary of the crash, which is this Thursday.
I return to the house on Thursday evening and start at the children’s home on Friday. (Today was the training.)
The Cape Winelands
I don’t like wine, so I wasn’t as excited about visiting the winelands as everyone else I’m with. I mainly went to see the vineyards, the historic gabled architecture, and the beautiful mountain setting. Wine or no wine, it was nice to see, worth the visit. But since I’m not terribly fond of wine touring, I’m also not terribly fond of writing about it. So, I’m afraid I’ve really just got pictures to share, not much text.
I actually visited the Cape Winelands area twice. I spent a day here with the Gap tour, and then another day here on an Aviva tour (Aviva is the volunteer agency that I used). Over the two days we visited several wineries in Paarl and Stellenbosch, both of which started producing wine in about the 1850s. Of all the stops, I most enjoyed a winery called Fairview—see top picture below—but I still got bored half-way through the wine tasting part and left for the cheese tasting. I prefer to keep my unhealthy addictions strictly focused on food.
After Fairview, we had a nice lunch at the charming and upscale little town of Franschhoek, which means “French Corner” in Afrikaans. The area was settled by French Huguenots (who were kicked out of France for religions reasons).
The Huguenots brought wine growing to this region and the Dutch soon joined the picture too. At right is a picture of the town’s Dutch Reform church.
With Gap, we visited a very large winery called
"Spier." I think it was more of a distributor than a producer, and definitely was not as good of a visit as Fairview. We did a wine tasting here, but I really didn’t like any of them.
While everyone else was off doing wine stuff, I spent most of my time exploring the grounds, checking out all the flowers, etc… Collages of pictures are below.
I did get my face painted, at right. Not sure how that relates to wine, but it was a non-alcoholic activity so I did it.
Spier grounds:
Pretty flowers on grounds:
More Spier grounds:
I actually visited the Cape Winelands area twice. I spent a day here with the Gap tour, and then another day here on an Aviva tour (Aviva is the volunteer agency that I used). Over the two days we visited several wineries in Paarl and Stellenbosch, both of which started producing wine in about the 1850s. Of all the stops, I most enjoyed a winery called Fairview—see top picture below—but I still got bored half-way through the wine tasting part and left for the cheese tasting. I prefer to keep my unhealthy addictions strictly focused on food.
After Fairview, we had a nice lunch at the charming and upscale little town of Franschhoek, which means “French Corner” in Afrikaans. The area was settled by French Huguenots (who were kicked out of France for religions reasons).
The Huguenots brought wine growing to this region and the Dutch soon joined the picture too. At right is a picture of the town’s Dutch Reform church.
With Gap, we visited a very large winery called
"Spier." I think it was more of a distributor than a producer, and definitely was not as good of a visit as Fairview. We did a wine tasting here, but I really didn’t like any of them.
While everyone else was off doing wine stuff, I spent most of my time exploring the grounds, checking out all the flowers, etc… Collages of pictures are below.
I did get my face painted, at right. Not sure how that relates to wine, but it was a non-alcoholic activity so I did it.
Spier grounds:
Pretty flowers on grounds:
More Spier grounds:
Caves, not Ostriches
written five or six days ago, who knows, I've lost all track of time...
More rain. Rain, rain, rain.
Before leaving for Africa, my general ignorance about the continent meant that I prepared for the trip with just two thoughts in mind: (1) don’t bring or eat more than you can lift, and (2) Africa is HOT-—no sense lugging lots of sweatshirts or long pants, just tank tops, shorts, and sandals.
Needless to say, I will retire the few cold weather clothes I did bring as soon as I return home. I won’t want to see them ever again.
But, rain or no rain, we pressed on. From Plettenberg Bay, we headed to the (reputedly) ‘hot, dry Karoo’ (dry?) to the small city of Oudtshoorn, ostrich farming capital of za world. It’s a charming little town, built largely during the 1870-1880s—the ostrich feather boom—when ostrich feathers were all the rage in Victorian fashion. The outskirts of the city are chock-a-block with grazing ostriches, reared today for their eggs, leather and meat. They even sell the HUGE ostrich eggs in the supermarket (14 yolks in each egg!). I considered frying up an ostrich egg omelet, but got lazy and decided on Cup-O-Noodles for dinner instead. The days and days of rain had sapped my sense of adventure.
When I looked over the itinerary before booking this trip, I’d say one of the main things that sold me was the opportunity to claim victory in an Ostrich race. Yep, we were going to RIDE AN OSTRICH. No, not just ride…RACE. It’s too funny; I had to do it.
Well, life doesn’t work out the way you plan. (Irony intended.) Since it’s been raining so much, the ostrich farms were closed to visitors. No ostrich ride for poor Betsy.
We did go on a tour of the Cango Caves though. It was good to see. It’s got the usual cave features—-stalactite and stalagmite dripstone formations—-but Cango's are decidedly ‘prettier’ than others I’ve seen, resembling delicate ruffled drapes.
The cave was cool, pretty, whatever. I’m jaded. Perhaps I’ve been in too many caves. For me, the cave paled in comparison to the kick I got out of our guide, a Shakespearean thespian trapped in the station of a cave guide. This is a guy who takes his job very seriously (think: the Alamo guide in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure). I cannot replicate in written word the added drama that followed each “Ladies and Gentlemen…”, but it was pretty great. Mind you, I wasn’t laughing at him. Rather, I was delighted by his (perhaps uncalled for) uber-performance.
As a finale, he even sang part of an opera aria—quite well—in order to demonstrate the acoustics of the cave. (Funny thing...I predicted that he was going to sing to us just five minutes before he did so.)
Ah, it’s the little pleasures in life.
More rain. Rain, rain, rain.
Before leaving for Africa, my general ignorance about the continent meant that I prepared for the trip with just two thoughts in mind: (1) don’t bring or eat more than you can lift, and (2) Africa is HOT-—no sense lugging lots of sweatshirts or long pants, just tank tops, shorts, and sandals.
Needless to say, I will retire the few cold weather clothes I did bring as soon as I return home. I won’t want to see them ever again.
But, rain or no rain, we pressed on. From Plettenberg Bay, we headed to the (reputedly) ‘hot, dry Karoo’ (dry?) to the small city of Oudtshoorn, ostrich farming capital of za world. It’s a charming little town, built largely during the 1870-1880s—the ostrich feather boom—when ostrich feathers were all the rage in Victorian fashion. The outskirts of the city are chock-a-block with grazing ostriches, reared today for their eggs, leather and meat. They even sell the HUGE ostrich eggs in the supermarket (14 yolks in each egg!). I considered frying up an ostrich egg omelet, but got lazy and decided on Cup-O-Noodles for dinner instead. The days and days of rain had sapped my sense of adventure.
When I looked over the itinerary before booking this trip, I’d say one of the main things that sold me was the opportunity to claim victory in an Ostrich race. Yep, we were going to RIDE AN OSTRICH. No, not just ride…RACE. It’s too funny; I had to do it.
Well, life doesn’t work out the way you plan. (Irony intended.) Since it’s been raining so much, the ostrich farms were closed to visitors. No ostrich ride for poor Betsy.
We did go on a tour of the Cango Caves though. It was good to see. It’s got the usual cave features—-stalactite and stalagmite dripstone formations—-but Cango's are decidedly ‘prettier’ than others I’ve seen, resembling delicate ruffled drapes.
The cave was cool, pretty, whatever. I’m jaded. Perhaps I’ve been in too many caves. For me, the cave paled in comparison to the kick I got out of our guide, a Shakespearean thespian trapped in the station of a cave guide. This is a guy who takes his job very seriously (think: the Alamo guide in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure). I cannot replicate in written word the added drama that followed each “Ladies and Gentlemen…”, but it was pretty great. Mind you, I wasn’t laughing at him. Rather, I was delighted by his (perhaps uncalled for) uber-performance. As a finale, he even sang part of an opera aria—quite well—in order to demonstrate the acoustics of the cave. (Funny thing...I predicted that he was going to sing to us just five minutes before he did so.)
Ah, it’s the little pleasures in life.
Quick Catch-Up II: Beach, Elephants, Zipline, Beach…
(written 10/06/07...the day of the Prescott Air Show. I SHOULD be in Arizona helping Warren today.)
HAGA HAGA
Yesterday was a painfully, excruciating, agonizingly long ride. 14 hours in a cramped little bus. Ugggh, I’m tired of this bus. At one point the overhead compartment on the right side of the bus actually came loose and now threatens to crash down on our heads whenever we hit a bump. We rigged a rather ridiculous temporary brace for it (pictured at right). That has since been replaced by a large branch and a brick…still ridiculous but a little more stable. At the end of our big long drive, I was rewarded with our final destination…a beach. Yep. Another beach.
But I actually really enjoyed this beach because it had miles of tide pools teeming with interesting bitty sea creatures and fascinating rock formations. I spent many hours in the morning slowly taking it all in. Here are some of the many pictures I took:
View of Haga Haga from the top of Whale Lookout hill. We stayed at the hotel at the point:
View from my hotel patio window:
Lots of interesting sea life in the tide pools.
And lots of interesting seashells
Cool art by a sea snail (she's in the picture in the top left):
Amazing rock formations. Warren and I would have spent hours trying to figure out how each was formed. We never grew tired of each other's curiosity.
We saw bigger sea life too. This morning we saw a bunch of dolphins—about 30— swimming along the shore. At one point, about 10 of them turned, in formation, and rode a wave toward the shore. Then, when the wave was done, they turned, perfectly synchronized, and continued swimming parallel to the shore. It was amazing, and those of us that saw it kept talking about it all day.
And, in the late afternoon we also saw a whale playing in the water outside our hotel patio window. Arika and I were sitting in the room, relaxing on the beds and watching the tail end of Oprah, and I said “Now all we need to cap off the day is for a whale to swim on by.” Within 10 minutes, a whale slowly swam by, breaching, flapping around, rolling in circles. Funny coincidence! I think it was an Orca from the three or four times that it breached, but I’m not sure. Great way to end the day.
ADDO ELEPHANT NATIONAL PARK
Our next stop was the Addo Elephant National Park, a reserve for—yep—elephants. This is an area where great herds of wild elephants used to roam, but were then killed off or crowded out by settlers. At the lowest point, there were only 11 elephants left in the valley. Then, in 1931, the Addo Elephant National Park was established, and now the numbers are rebounding, with herds numbering almost four hundred.
After all the elephants I had seen in Kruger, I was glad to be here, but not necessarily excited per se. But what I hadn’t anticipated was how CLOSE we would get to the elephants, how totally unperturbed they would be by our presence. It was unbelievable. Here’s some shots of close encounters:
Even mothers with little baby elephants weren’t bothered by our close proximity. So fun!
One highlight was seeing a genuine Dung Beetle in action. Really. Dung Beetles are cool. In fact, Garreth (a fellow traveler) has been talking about wanting to see one for weeks, always accompanied by a small performance on how they operate—rolling the dung (elephant poo) into balls with their hind legs, and periodically crawling down off the poo ball to turn around and check things out in the area, then turning back around and climbing back up the poo ball with its hind legs, getting back to the task of rolling an ever bigger ball o’ poo.
We spent a good ten minutes watching the little guy. At one point, we were all hanging out the van windows gawking at the Dung Beetle when a car pulled up behind us, then decided to pass…right over where the Dung Beetle was. We all waved him off hysterically, yelling, motioning frantically for him to stay back, then when it was too late for that, to move on. He pulled up next to us, rolled down his window, confused, and we all yelled “Dung Beetle, Dung Beetle”. Clearly realizing what he had just done, he asked if we were calling him a Dung Beetle, laughed at his own oh-wo-witty retort, then pulled away. Dork.
Luckily, our little Dung Beetle survived the horrible encounter, at least it seemed so. For some reason, he didn’t go back to rolling his dung ball, but instead walked in circles for a minute—as if dazed—then crawled off into the grass empty handed. Huh. Hope the little bugger is okay.
ZIP-LINING IN TSITSIKAMA
Yesterday we visited Tsitsikama National Park to check out the area and do a “canopy tour.” This is basically the same “Zip-Line” experience that Warren and I had last summer in Whistler, British Columbia, Canada. Here’s a shot of me zooming across the canyon:
It was kind of fun. I guess. Better than sitting around doing nothing for hours while the others did it. I just don’t find the experience scary. Perhaps it’s because I had done zip-lining before so there was no novelty factor. It’s fun to do the longer stretches, but there’s certainly no adrenaline involved. You are attached to the main cord in not one, not two, but three different places. 
There’s no way you’re not going to make it to the other side. Oh well, anyway…
This was our guide, CJ. I think it’s pretty funny that he leads these canopy tours with such snazzy shoes like that on. :) And, it's also pretty telling about how tame the whole experience truly is!
PLETTENBERG BAY
I am now at Plettenberg Bay—a coastal city, a BEACH city. Very nice, very Orange County.
Shortly after we arrived last night, Garreth, Laura and I went out for pizza, and we got craaaaazzzzzy. :) I ordered half my pizza “Rock-and-Roll” style—a pizza with bacon and banana. Seriously. It seems to be a popular combination in South Africa, so I figured it was time to try it. Interesting, just as you’d expect it to taste. Garreth also ordered a half and half, and his crazy half was the “CCC—Chicken, Camberbert, and Cranberries.” Tasted like a Thanksgiving left-overs sandwich. Much better than the Rock and Roll.
Today I’m sick, but not from the pizza. I have a cold. I can’t believe I have ANOTHER cold. I just had a cold about six weeks ago. This is a mild version though. I was going to go sea kayaking with a few friends, but figured I had better take it easy. So instead, I am sitting at “Surf Café”, a hip little spot around the corner from the hotel. I have been here for a few hours, sorting through pictures and writing these blog entries. Very very yummy food, and true to the name, full of surfer types.
When first came, there were only about 20 people here but now the place is crowded. Every single person is sitting in a chair facing me and yelling in my direction…yelling at the TV above my head. Rugby is on (an OBSESSION here) and I’m the only one not watching. But I don’t care. I don’t feel like moving. I’m comfy here. Although I wish they’d yell quieter.
HAGA HAGA
Yesterday was a painfully, excruciating, agonizingly long ride. 14 hours in a cramped little bus. Ugggh, I’m tired of this bus. At one point the overhead compartment on the right side of the bus actually came loose and now threatens to crash down on our heads whenever we hit a bump. We rigged a rather ridiculous temporary brace for it (pictured at right). That has since been replaced by a large branch and a brick…still ridiculous but a little more stable. At the end of our big long drive, I was rewarded with our final destination…a beach. Yep. Another beach. But I actually really enjoyed this beach because it had miles of tide pools teeming with interesting bitty sea creatures and fascinating rock formations. I spent many hours in the morning slowly taking it all in. Here are some of the many pictures I took:
View of Haga Haga from the top of Whale Lookout hill. We stayed at the hotel at the point:
View from my hotel patio window:
Lots of interesting sea life in the tide pools.
And lots of interesting seashells
Cool art by a sea snail (she's in the picture in the top left):
Amazing rock formations. Warren and I would have spent hours trying to figure out how each was formed. We never grew tired of each other's curiosity.
We saw bigger sea life too. This morning we saw a bunch of dolphins—about 30— swimming along the shore. At one point, about 10 of them turned, in formation, and rode a wave toward the shore. Then, when the wave was done, they turned, perfectly synchronized, and continued swimming parallel to the shore. It was amazing, and those of us that saw it kept talking about it all day.
And, in the late afternoon we also saw a whale playing in the water outside our hotel patio window. Arika and I were sitting in the room, relaxing on the beds and watching the tail end of Oprah, and I said “Now all we need to cap off the day is for a whale to swim on by.” Within 10 minutes, a whale slowly swam by, breaching, flapping around, rolling in circles. Funny coincidence! I think it was an Orca from the three or four times that it breached, but I’m not sure. Great way to end the day.
ADDO ELEPHANT NATIONAL PARK
Our next stop was the Addo Elephant National Park, a reserve for—yep—elephants. This is an area where great herds of wild elephants used to roam, but were then killed off or crowded out by settlers. At the lowest point, there were only 11 elephants left in the valley. Then, in 1931, the Addo Elephant National Park was established, and now the numbers are rebounding, with herds numbering almost four hundred.
After all the elephants I had seen in Kruger, I was glad to be here, but not necessarily excited per se. But what I hadn’t anticipated was how CLOSE we would get to the elephants, how totally unperturbed they would be by our presence. It was unbelievable. Here’s some shots of close encounters:
Even mothers with little baby elephants weren’t bothered by our close proximity. So fun!
One highlight was seeing a genuine Dung Beetle in action. Really. Dung Beetles are cool. In fact, Garreth (a fellow traveler) has been talking about wanting to see one for weeks, always accompanied by a small performance on how they operate—rolling the dung (elephant poo) into balls with their hind legs, and periodically crawling down off the poo ball to turn around and check things out in the area, then turning back around and climbing back up the poo ball with its hind legs, getting back to the task of rolling an ever bigger ball o’ poo.
We spent a good ten minutes watching the little guy. At one point, we were all hanging out the van windows gawking at the Dung Beetle when a car pulled up behind us, then decided to pass…right over where the Dung Beetle was. We all waved him off hysterically, yelling, motioning frantically for him to stay back, then when it was too late for that, to move on. He pulled up next to us, rolled down his window, confused, and we all yelled “Dung Beetle, Dung Beetle”. Clearly realizing what he had just done, he asked if we were calling him a Dung Beetle, laughed at his own oh-wo-witty retort, then pulled away. Dork.Luckily, our little Dung Beetle survived the horrible encounter, at least it seemed so. For some reason, he didn’t go back to rolling his dung ball, but instead walked in circles for a minute—as if dazed—then crawled off into the grass empty handed. Huh. Hope the little bugger is okay.
ZIP-LINING IN TSITSIKAMA
Yesterday we visited Tsitsikama National Park to check out the area and do a “canopy tour.” This is basically the same “Zip-Line” experience that Warren and I had last summer in Whistler, British Columbia, Canada. Here’s a shot of me zooming across the canyon:
It was kind of fun. I guess. Better than sitting around doing nothing for hours while the others did it. I just don’t find the experience scary. Perhaps it’s because I had done zip-lining before so there was no novelty factor. It’s fun to do the longer stretches, but there’s certainly no adrenaline involved. You are attached to the main cord in not one, not two, but three different places. 
There’s no way you’re not going to make it to the other side. Oh well, anyway…This was our guide, CJ. I think it’s pretty funny that he leads these canopy tours with such snazzy shoes like that on. :) And, it's also pretty telling about how tame the whole experience truly is!
PLETTENBERG BAY
I am now at Plettenberg Bay—a coastal city, a BEACH city. Very nice, very Orange County.
Shortly after we arrived last night, Garreth, Laura and I went out for pizza, and we got craaaaazzzzzy. :) I ordered half my pizza “Rock-and-Roll” style—a pizza with bacon and banana. Seriously. It seems to be a popular combination in South Africa, so I figured it was time to try it. Interesting, just as you’d expect it to taste. Garreth also ordered a half and half, and his crazy half was the “CCC—Chicken, Camberbert, and Cranberries.” Tasted like a Thanksgiving left-overs sandwich. Much better than the Rock and Roll.
When first came, there were only about 20 people here but now the place is crowded. Every single person is sitting in a chair facing me and yelling in my direction…yelling at the TV above my head. Rugby is on (an OBSESSION here) and I’m the only one not watching. But I don’t care. I don’t feel like moving. I’m comfy here. Although I wish they’d yell quieter.
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Since the point of the journey was the walking, I thought I’d better capture some sights along the way. Here are collages and images from th... -
I'm currently revising this blog, trying to get everything in one place. That means everything will be a mess for awhile.