Zanny's Visit and Wrapping Up

A lot has happened in the last couple weeks since I last posted an entry [disclaimer: long post to follow]. Almost all of the international students have gone home or at least left PMB, and my sister, Susanne, has come and gone. Also, seeing as I leave SA on Wednesday, this will likely be my last South African post…although, never fear, I will probably post some more from Israel before calling this blog thing quits.

A couple Thursdays ago (the last time I posted an entry, to be exact) I went with Amir, Jacob, and Wakeem to Durban to do some last-minute curio shopping at the beachfront. We were supposed to get a ride with our friend Rob who called at the last minute to inform us that he couldn’t find the registration papers for his car, so he couldn’t drive outside of PMB. It was now almost 11am and we weren’t willing to give up on the trip since Wakeem was leaving the next day and Amir (who had a ridiculous amount of gifts to buy) was leaving Monday. So our only option was to take a kombi to Durban, a very cramped ride that takes about an hour. I had never before taken an unchartered kombi to Durban, so I did not know where they would drop us. I assumed the guys would know (I now know to never make such an assumption), but they were just as surprised as I was when we were dropped at the taxi rank a couple miles from the beachfront. As soon as we got off the kombi I had a feeling this was not an area we should stand around looking lost. We walked at a pretty good pace, dodging traffic, to the beachfront about 30 minutes away. We made it there without incident, stopped for lunch at an Indian restaurant, and went about perusing the craft stalls. The stalls more or less sell the same things, so there is always a good deal to be had due to the competition. I stocked up on some more beadwork and woven baskets. Although I am not especially good at bargaining I was pleased with the deals I got. We took a cab back to the taxi rank where we picked up the PMB taxi. We made it back safely, but sore and tired from being cramped in kombis so long.

Just two days later I went back to Durban via uncomfortable kombi rides as Mani and Amir had some more shopping to do. By this time, everyone except for Mani, Amir, Jacob, me, and Jessi S. (who was in Lesotho for a few days on a solo adventure) had left Denison. Faced with the prospect of being stuck in PMB by myself, I accompanied Mani, Amir, and Jacob back to Durban. We were dropped around the same place so we still had to walk to the beachfront, but at least there was less traffic on this day. Tired of the craft stall scene, I picked up some more beads and we sat on the beach as Amir finished his shopping. At this time I noticed that I was starting to feel out of it, but I didn’t know why. When we got back to PMB we stopped in Scottsville to get dinner at Debonair’s and then catch a movie. We all ordered the same thing: margherita pizzas (cheese pizza is not an option here), but my pizza did not sit well with me. We had a few hours before the movie, Ocean’s Thirteen, started so we decided to try out the ten pin bowling alley which we had been avoiding all semester. It turned out to be pretty fun and inexpensive--they even let you wear your own shoes. At 6:30pm (apparently when late-night starts in Scottsville) they turned on black lights and disco balls. When we got home from the movie, Mani and I found Jessi on our couch. She had returned from Lesotho earlier that day.

The next morning, the three of us and Amir woke up at 5am to walk down the road and watch the Comrades Marathon. Comrades is the biggest ultra-marathon in the world run between PMB and Durban. This year was a “down run” so they started in downtown ‘Maritzburg and ran to Durban 56 miles away, a run which has numerous difficult hills in between. This area is also known for having the worst air quality in the country this time of year because there are lots of fires and the pollution sits in the basin, which I cannot imagine makes things any easier for the runners. The race started at 5:30am and the runners were given 12 hours to complete it (the winner finished in about 5:20). It was pretty crazy seeing 12,000 people run by in what felt like the dead of night. Most of the runners were very focused, but some were in crazy costumes (like one guy dressed as a fairy) and many even thanked us for our support as they ran by. There were not many women in the race, but I was impressed by the number of African runners, who clearly made up a majority, rather than rich white men as I was expecting. Later that morning, after a few more hours of sleep, we took Mani to the airport.

Later that evening Susanne arrived. After narrowly making the last flight of the night to PMB due to her flight being delayed from DC, we learned that her luggage did not make it. Unfortunately it did not just miss the flight, but it is truly lost. Right now, two weeks after her first flights, the airlines have no clue where her bag is--not even which airport. We didn't let this set us back too much though. Susanne was able to use some stuff left behind by Mani. On Monday I tried to give Susanne a 'real' South African experience by taking her to downtown PMB. After breakfast at Bread Ahead in Scottsville we took a minibus taxi into town. I think Susanne developed an appreciation for how uncomfortable it can be to ride the taxis (because they pack people in) and for how hectic things are in town during the week. Shortly after arriving in town I realized I had a pretty bad stomach virus, mild symptoms of which I had already been feeling for a couple days. I wound up puking right in the middle of one of the plazas--it was a fine moment that Susanne was lucky enough to witness. After defacing public property, I was temporarily feeling better so we did some shopping and I introduced Susanne to my favorite, Kara Nichha's.

On Tuesday I was still not feeling so great, so we took our time getting to Durban. We arrived later in the afternoon at the lovely Gibela Backpackers Lodge. Gibela was incredibly clean and had very comfortable beds and great art. I took it easy as Susanne and Jessi went out shopping. After resting for a while I thought I was ready to try eating something, so we went to the Green Mango, a Japanese/Thai restaurant just up the block from Gibela. The Green Mango had surprisingly good food and service--definitely the best Asian food I have had while here. Trying not to irritate my stomach, I just had miso soup and avocado maki. I thought I would be okay until we got up to walk back to the hostel. As soon as we reached the street I puked in the gutter--the third time in two days that Susanne witnessed me puking in public. The car park guard seemed to assume that I had too much to drink as he assured, "It's better to get it out." After a great nights sleep, we headed down to Florida Road, the trendy area of Durban, to do some shopping before heading on to the Gateway Mall in Umhlanga. Gateway is proud of its title as the largest shopping center in the southern hemisphere. Susanne was able to get some clothing and shoes to get her through the trip and I was finally able to stomach some food.

We continued up the North Coast to Cape Vidal in the Greater St. Lucia Wetland Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It was a good thing we didn't spend any more time at Gateway because we arrived at the gate for the Cape Vidal Camp at 5:57pm, and the gate closed at 6:00pm. Even in the dark we were able to spot large herds of zebra right next to road. The three of us wound up having a five-bed fully-equipped cabin located about 200-ft from the beach all to ourselves. Signs around the cabin warned against walking around at night because we were in a game reserve and we could encounter hippos, which are responsible for more deaths than any other animal in Africa.

On Wednesday we got up early to watch the sunrise over the ocean and go for a drive around the game reserve. We did a very nice self-drive around a lake and wetlands. During the drive we spotted cape buffalo (one of the big five), wildebeest, reedbucks, kudu--a type of antelope, warthogs, zebra, and countless monkeys and birds. I was thinking about how gratifying it was to do a self-drive with no other tourists around and how much cheaper it was than going for a game drive in a private reserve. Then we got back onto the paved road and noticed a strange rhythmic thumping sound. We stopped and realized we had gotten a flat tire when a sharp rock got lodged in our back right tire. So Jessi, Susanne, and I went about changing the tire--something we had all only been shown how to do years ago--while still in our pajamas. We were actually doing pretty well--we jacked the car, had the spare and tools out and ready, but when it came time to loosen the bolts we ran into trouble. The bolts had probably been tightened by machine and would not budge when the three of us tried to loosen them. I even tried sitting on the wrench to get more leverage. Luckily a truck with some park workers came down the secluded road (I had also left my cell phone in the cabin so we couldn't call for help). As a couple workers approached the car, the man seemed to say that he wasn't sure if he was capable of helping us. We told him that we were having trouble with the bolts so he gave it a shot...he had the spare tire on and tightened in about two minutes. I guess he was just trying to be modest when in reality he could work in a NASCAR pit crew. After getting back to the cabin we had breakfast (my stomach was finally doing better) and got ready for a day on the beach. Only in Africa can you have a great beach day on the winter solstice. The sun was shining and both the air and water temperatures were in the 70s. Susanne took us for a walk down the beach (as she is known for doing). Just like in Mozambique, once we walked a few hundred meters past the fishermen and other beach loungers near the Cape Vidal Camp we were the only ones on the beach and ours were the only footprints in the sand. Susanne spotted some sand dunes in the distance that she wanted to walk to. I think they wound up being about 5km down the beach from where we were staying, but it was still a very worthwhile walk and the dunes were very dramatic as they seemed to flow out of the densely forested hills running along the beach. We made it back to our cabin before sundown (being winter solstice, the sun set around 5pm) to find our cabin completely surrounded by monkeys. The monkeys seemed unfazed by our presence and went about whatever they were doing such as grooming each other on the driveway. For dinner, Susanne impressed us with her from-scratch cooking skills by preparing a delicious tomato pasta sauce with sauteed greens. We enjoyed dinner with our new favorite wintery drink: chai tea with amarula (a fruity cream liquor made in SA--a few bottles are on their way home).

The next morning we checked out of our cabin and spent a few more hours on the beach before leaving Cape Vidal. Susanne and I went swimming which was refreshing but semi-treacherous. The waves were pretty small and the sand was fine, but all along the beach there were large patches of rocks just under the water making them difficult to spot. We were able to maneuver around the rocks but finally got tired of it and went in. From Cape Vidal we continued on to our next stop: Isinkwe Bush Camp just outside of Hluhluwe. On our way out of the park we spotted more reedbucks, kudu, warthogs, and zebra. Along the way we stopped for lunch in St. Lucia, a very white, touristy town. For lunch we went to the Greek Sizzler--the name drew us there more than anything. St. Lucia had an Avis where we traded in our cushy Corolla, Ruth, who had gotten the flat tire for a more South African VW Citi who we named Tootsie because it smelled like tootsie rolls. The PMB Avis had given us a free upgrade, but the St. Lucia Avis had the car group we were paying for in stock, so that's what we got. Most of our rentals have been something similar to the VW Citi--a car not sold in the US because it would never meet the stringent safety standards. Cars in SA are ridiculously expensive due to high tariffs on parts, so many are sold new with manual steering, no airbags, exposed metal on the interior, tiny 1.2L engines, etc. The exterior of the VW Citi, for instance, looks like the VW Rabbit sold in the US in the 1980s, but the car itself is in fact new. Jessi and I justified that our downgrade gave Susanne a more authentic South African travel experience. After switching cars we left St. Lucia, happy that we had stayed at Cape Vidal and not in the uber-white tourist town. We stopped in Mtubatuba, a much more 'African' town, for some groceries. To say that the town center of Mtubatuba is bustling in the evening is an understatement. It reminds me of the hectic movement of religious neighborhoods in Israel right before Shabbos. Just after dark we got to Isinkwe, which is located a few kilometers down dirt roads from the N2, truly in the bush as they claim. We were some of the only guests there that night as it is now the low-season, so we had the kitchen to ourselves. Susanne impressed us yet again by whipping up an excellent chickpea and tomato curry. While cooking we took a break to watch the bushbaby feeding, a nightly activity at the backpackers which attracts its namesake (isinkwe is the word for bushbaby in Zulu). Sure enough, the cuddly bushbabies with their big eyes came out of the trees and munched on the bananas set out for them.

After dinner we decided to have an early night since we planned to get up at 5:30am to go for a morning drive at the Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park, a public game reserve that has the Big 5. I was happy to be in our heated rental car rather than an open safari vehicle that cold morning. We only had a couple hours to drive around the park, which although only one-twentieth the size of Kruger is still quite large and you could easily spend all day driving around. We only drove through the northern section, Hluhluwe, where we saw more cape buffalo, wildebeest, giraffe in the distance, a few types of antelope, and zebras crossing the road right in front of our car. Judging by the amount of dung in the road I expected to see more game, but it's possible that they weren't very active that morning since it was pretty cold. We drove back to our backpackers to get some sleep before having to check out. From there we headed back to PMB. In between doing laundry in the ever-frustrating Denison laundry room we met Jessi H. and Stine and her brother for dinner at Firkin. Jessi and I had Susanne try Firkin's red ale--what Jessi and I consider one of the best beers in SA. Susanne was thoroughly unimpressed (as she should be) and empathized with the pathetic selection of beer available to us over the last five months. I should have had Susanne try a Hansa Pilsener--a disgustingly bitter beer with no flavor. After dinner the six of us squeezed into our compact rental and then said our goodbyes as Jessi H. and Stine would be leaving for a roadtrip on Monday and this would be our last time seeing them in SA.

After a late laundry night we got up early the next morning to head off for the Drakensberg Mountains. We drove up to Monk's Cowl in the Central Drakensberg where I had gone hiking months earlier on separate trips with the Denison crew and my parents. The landscape had an entirely different character than when I had been there before. Rather than lush and green, the mountainsides were now a dry yellow or black from fires. There was also an unpleasant haze from the fires burning throughout the Natal Midlands. At 1pm we started the Blind Man's Corner trail, an 11km hike I had done during my first visit to Monk's Cowl which at the time nearly killed me and during which I got the worst sunburn of my life. However, just like the scenery, the winter conditions were very different from those back in the summer. The first time I did the hike, the temperature was about 30C, there was no shade, it was humid, the air was still, and I was with a group that was going faster than my own pace. This time, the temperature was about 20C, it was dry, there was a light breeze, and we went at a very comfortable pace. This time I was incredibly surprised at how much easier I found the steep ascent. Never once did I feel like I was going to collapse and need to be carried down the mountain. However, due to the relative ease of the climb, I underestimated the amount of time it would take to get back. Once we reached the top, around 3pm, we stopped for lunch and then continued along the plateau at 3:30pm. I guess because the plateau was the easiest part of the hike, I remembered it being shorter than it actually was. The trail on the plateau had us hiking in about 3km further so we didn't reach the descent segment of the loop trail until 4pm. At this point I silently started to get a bit worried since it had taken us three hours to get to this point--essentially half way--and the park gate would be closing in two hours. On top of that, I knew that I had struggled with the descent portion of the hike last time because it was very steep and I am very slow at climbing down rocks. Since I anticipated being the slowest, I led the three of us on the way down. The fear of being locked inside the park forced me to overcome my fear of falling down the mountain and I'd say I completed the descent in half as much time as it took me the first time around. It was also getting dark fast which forced me to keep moving. We did make it out in time, reaching the parking lot at 5:45pm. Even though my legs felt like jell-o when we got to the car, I was still very proud of myself for being able to complete the hike faster and in a much better condition at the end. From Monk's Cowl we drove up to the Northern Drakensberg where we would be staying for a couple days. We stopped for dinner at Tower of Pizza--still the best pizza I have had in SA. We then checked into Amphitheatre Backpackers where I had stayed with Jessi, Mani, and Lauren a couple months ago. Last time I was getting over the flu so we took it easy. This time we were there to take advantage of the adventurous activities.

On Monday the three of us went on the tour up to Lesotho. This tour took us through the Monantsha Pass border via the Free State province, a border not otherwise used by tourists unlike the Sani Pass border in KZN. Also along for the tour were a Dutch couple, a girl from the UK traveling with a South African girl who now lives in the UK, a guy from Israel (incidentally the same town as my brother), and a guy from Michigan. I'm not sure of the name of the area in Lesotho that we toured through, but it is fairly close to the town of Buthe-Butha. Not only is this part of Lesotho less touristy than Sani Pass, but it also has different topography. Sani Pass is characterized by rolling pastures (at very high elevation) with rivers meandering in all directions, whereas the Monantsha Pass led us into a valley surrounded by rocky cliffs on all sides. Also the Sani Pass area was mostly inhabited by shepherds, and this area had many more families and a much higher population density (although still rural, so really not 'dense' by any measure). Our first stop was a primary school established by a South African in the 1970s. The school consisted of two large classrooms (and one still under construction), the first of which was built entirely by students, teachers, and parents. The original classroom accommodates four teachers instructing grades 1 through 5, and the second classroom accommodates grades 6 and 7. The school is currently out for winter break, and our local guide was a math and science teacher at the school named Power. After seeing the school we hiked up the hill to the edge of the cliffs where we stopped for lunch to view some San rock art. The San were hunter-gatherers who roamed around southern Africa for the last 10,000 years but their culture went extinct about 100 years ago for numerous reasons, part of which is that they could no longer hunt for animals on property claimed by whites and Zulus. The shaman, or leader, of a nomadic San group would create rock paintings of animals or people as a signal to other San groups that would come through the area indicating what types of animals had been found and where or if nothing had been found. Recently the rock art sites allover SA have been protected and access is only allowed with guides, but for many years the paintings were subject to vandalism. On our way back to the school we came across some cute Basotho kids who wanted their picture taken, so Susanne and I took pictures with them and gave them our extra sandwiches from lunch. From there we continued on to visit a local sangoma, or traditional healer. On the way to the sangoma, Power suffered an epileptic seizure, a condition he is familiar with but which had not been bothering him recently. Luckily he was not driving but was sitting next to one of our guides who was able to keep him from injuring himself. I had never witnessed a seizure, so at first I was not sure if it was for real. We stopped the bus and waited for him to 'come out of it.' They lied him down in the front seat with his head tilting down so that he would not choke on his saliva. It took a few minutes before he was able to respond to questions, and in about half an hour he seemed back to normal. Further down the winding dirt roads we reached the home of the sangoma. In this case, the sangoma was a 71-year-old Basotho woman who became aware of her gift in 1968 while working as a maid in South Africa. Sangomas are apparently chosen by their ancestors who come to them in dreams and tell them of their gift and of which sangoma to be an apprentice for. Sangomas administer treatment with locally grown herbs that are drunk, smoked, or eaten. She told our guide Power to drink a brownish liquid filled with herbs sitting in a jar on the table. This particular liquid is given to people with head problems such as headaches or 'to make someone less crazy.' He drank it, but from the looks of it, it couldn't have tasted good. After hearing the sangoma's story and asking her questions we headed back to stop at a shebeen, or unofficial bar, to taste local beer. I have tried Zulu beer (utshwala) a few times before, but the beer that we tried this time was made from pineapple so it had a really nice sweetness and fruity flavor. Interestingly enough, the beer was served to us by a group of children probably between ages six and eight. After trying the beer we went to Power's home where we tried pap (maize meal porridge) and cabbage. As we were getting back into the bus our guide bought a string of dead field mice from a local kid, which were cooked and offered to our group at the hostel later that night. From there we headed back to the border.

The next day we went on the other tour offered at Amphitheatre Backpackers: a guided 15km hike along the Sentinel Peak trail up to the top of Thukela Falls, the second highest waterfall in the world (the first being Angel Falls in South America). Although the Amphitheatre, an 8km long rock face in the Royal Natal National Park, can be seen from the backpackers, it is about a two-hour drive to the trailhead which is accessed through the Free State province. On this tour were the three of us, the Israeli guy, one high school-aged guy from Oregon and three high school girls from Europe who had been studying in Jo'burg and Pretoria for the last year...crazy. The trail begins at about 2500m (8200ft) from where we climb up to about 3000m (9850ft). As soon as we got out of the bus it was obvious that the weather was very different from where we started that morning. It was extremely windy as we were on a mountain ridge, which made it very cold (I am eternally grateful that I brought all of the layers that I did which I wound up sharing with Jessi and Susanne--only wish I also had gloves). My legs were still sore from the hike in Monk's Cowl a couple days before, but I was determined not to miss this hike so I took a couple ibuprofen before starting which sort of helped. The hike started out at a gradual incline, so I was not feeling the altitude too much. The scariest thing was that, as I mentioned before, it was very windy and the mountain dropped off quite steeply for a couple thousand feet on one side. After hiking for about an hour we stopped at the bottom of a rocky corridor that led up to the top of the mountain. I thought we were going to continue along the contour trail, but our guide, Sim, had something else in mind. To reach the top of the Amphitheatre, still a few hundred feet above, we were going to scramble up the passage of rocks. Jessi and I started out confidently and enthusiastically, but about half way through I felt fatigue starting to set in. I was on all fours literally the whole way up. As rock climbing goes, it was pretty easy because it was not vertical and there were sturdy foot and hand holds almost everywhere, but it was still a lot of climbing. Susanne was loving every second of it as rock scrambling is her thing. I asked her to stay behind me so that I knew she could give me a boost if I needed it. Every now and then she would ask to go ahead because she couldn't stand all the starting and stopping, so she would bound ahead about 30 feet and then wait for me as I took my time. Susanne was under the impression that we would be coming back down this way, and about two-thirds of the way up she told me this and I almost started freaking out as I knew it would take me hours to get back down, if I could get myself to do it all. Jessi called up to Sim and confirmed that this was not so, so I was able to keep going. For the last hundred feet or so, I wanted nothing more than to be at the top because I was getting more worried that I would make a mistake and get injured. Not only was I getting tired (the three ibuprofen I had taken that morning were not helping), but my hands were getting numb from the cold and I was having trouble grasping rocks. I finally made it, quite a bit slower than most of the group, but I did it nonetheless. Once at the top, we were on a ridge overlooking the Amphitheatre, just about 20ft away from a 3000ft vertical drop. There we stopped for lunch which for me was much needed after the rock climb. From there it was an easy gradual decline down the hill to the Thukela River and falls. The plateau at the top of the Amphitheatre reminded me of the top of Sani Pass in Lesotho--similar rolling hillsides and meandering rivers. This was the first place I saw snow in SA. There wasn't much, but on hills with southern aspect there were some patches of white. Susanne was practically frolicking she was having such a great time. The Thukela River, which has pretty low flow due to the drought this year, was half-frozen. In little time we were at the edge of the falls which is also the edge of the Amphitheatre--a 3000-foot drop that occurs in five stages. I am not usually one to have a fear of heights, but looking over the Amphitheatre was downright intimidating. Unlike Susanne, I could not get myself to dangle my feet over the sheer precipice. One of the high school girls even got close enough to spit over the falls. Just watching this made my heart pound. We stopped just long enough to take a few photos, take our malaria pills, and split a Lara bar before heading back. It was obvious that a storm was rolling in from the Free State side and we did not want to be at the highest point around should it be a lightning storm. As we walked through the alpine meadow we could spot Mont Aux-Sources, the third highest point in southern Africa which is the source of two major southern African rivers: the Thukela which flows to the Indian Ocean and the Orange which flows to the Atlantic. Although we had finished the rock climb, the difficult parts were not behind us yet. To get back down, we had to descend about 100m of chain ladder which has been welded into the sheer rock face. There were two ladders, the second of which was about twice as long as the first. Jessi, who is not a fan of ladders, was worried that she would not be able to make it down, but with the help of our awesome guide Sim, she made it down like a champ. While I did not struggle with the ladders as much as Jessi, I cannot say that it was easy. To get myself down, I repeated a mantra: one step at a time. It didn't help that it was still extremely windy and cold. Most of the time it felt like my wool cap was going to be blown off my head and by the end my hands were numb and frozen into a curled shape which I was barely able to latch around the rungs. From there we hiked a couple more hours, following the trail back around to where we began, which seemed like a piece of cake after the rock scramble and chain ladders. As we approached the end it was obvious that the storm was getting close as flecks of snow were starting to fall. We made it back without trouble and spent most of the evening lounging around the bar of the backpackers, which we've decided is the best hostel bar we have been to, with much credit belonging to Zi, the most talented bartender we have come across in SA. We suggested that she write a book.

I had not visited the Free State province before the two tours, so even the drives through there were fascinating. The part of Free State we saw, Qwa Qwa, is a former 'homeland' where blacks were forced to live and which was recognized by the apartheid government as an independent state. The landscape is high desert, so there are almost no trees growing and everything seems to have a yellowish-brown tint. Unlike most other parts of SA that I have seen that have a general diversity of population, absolutely everyone in Qwa Qwa is black. This is yet another reminder that the Sotho and Zulu tribes did not choose to inhabit this area, but that the white-led apartheid government forced people to relocate to this isolated land. Apparently over 1 million people are packed into this desolate valley. The only economic opportunities present in the area seemed to be some industrial factories set on the outskirts of town. On our way back from the Lesotho tour we passed the headquarters for the provincial government (basically the equivalent of a state capital), and Sim was quick to point out that it wasn't a jail...wow. Can you imagine driving past the capital in Sacramento and someone pointing to it and saying, "It's not a jail." Oh, Free State, what impressive architecture you have. After the hike, we were riding through Qwa Qwa around 5pm, when everyone seems to get off work. The sides of the road were suddenly filled with thousands of people walking home. On each side of the road, the line of workers was about ten people wide. What is startling is that these workers, who are probably employed in the industrial factories, are so poor that they cannot even afford to take a minibus taxi, so they choose to instead walk home in the cold. It was like witnessing rush-hour traffic on a freeway, but it was all pedestrians. On top of the amazing tours, which Susanne noted as the highlight of her trip, I’m glad I got to see another part of this ever-surprising diverse country before I leave.

On Wednesday we headed back to PMB, stopping along the way in Howick to see the falls and the craft shops. The storm we had seen rolling in the day before while on the Sentinel Peak hike turned out to be a pretty big one and dumped a good layer of snow on all of the surrounding mountains, and even much of the Natal Midlands. Not only did we see snow on the side of the highway, but we drove through it for a bit while on the N3. Luckily it wasn’t cold enough for the snow to turn to ice so it was still safe to drive. By the time we got to Howick and PMB, the snow had turned to a steady rain. We drove to downtown PMB to take Susanne to the Tatham Art Gallery. Since we usually take taxis into town we didn’t realize that there is a shortage of parking, so we wound up parking a few blocks away at the Voortrekker Museum and walking through the rain. After a nice lunch at the lovely café, we went over to Liberty Mall to replace some things lost in Susanne’s missing luggage. After introducing Susanne to Nando’s, Portuguese-influenced fast food, we went back to Denison to pack things up. Susanne left Thursday morning and is now back in the States. Her visit definitely went by too fast, but I am glad she was able to make it, as I’m sure she is too.

After saying our goodbyes, Jessi and I went over to the National Alamo car rental counter at the airport to try to sort out a rental that we were overcharged for. Our encounter is a perfect example of the brain drain that is plaguing this country. When we got here back in February, the PMB branch was managed by a guy named Mike who always got us good deals, honored online confirmations, and was always helpful and friendly. Mike, who did not see a future for himself in this country, left for the UK back in the beginning of April. Since then, Mike has been replaced by four people, and somehow neither on their own nor combined can they do the job that he did. Last month, Jessi and I rented two cars from National Alamo for our weekend trip to Umzumbe. According to our online confirmations, which had been honored in the past, we were supposed to be charged $150 for both rentals, but instead we were charged $350. The new manager had us return to the airport to bring him the webpage print-out so that he could fix the rate, but he did no such thing, insisting that the rate is set by the system and he has no power to change it (he also charged us for an extra day when we returned one of the cars half an hour late after he had wasted over an hour of our time). A couple weeks ago, Jessi confronted the new manager about this. He was utterly unhelpful and after some demanding gave her the phone number of someone who never returned our calls. On Thursday, I went to talk to him to see if he would be reasonable. He immediately started giving me the same run around, saying that he has no power to change the rate (even though he is the manager), that it is not his problem that the system does not work, and that there is nothing he can do when other National Alamo employees do not return our calls. As if this is not bad enough, it is what this man said next that should alert his company that he should never work in customer service. He then told us that we were giving him attitude, that he wanted us to leave his sight, and that he would like us to never rent from National Alamo again. This man was even so naïve to tell us that he was only losing the business of two customers. Even when we assured him that we would make sure that all of the international students we know who take frequent trips would also never rent from him, he did not back down. He clearly has no appreciation for the power of word-of-mouth. I can only imagine that that sort of behavior from a representative of a multi-national firm in the US would have them out of a job before the customer got a chance to bad-mouth the company. But somehow, in SA it could be years before customer feedback makes the company realize that this is a damaging person to have on their payroll. Customer service frustrations aside, it is time for me to leave South Africa. I have had a fully satisfying, challenging experience here, and I definitely feel ready to go. The question is, am I ready to return?