Log 38

Okay, so it has been confirmed. The campers outside of the ship were for the third movie of Mazer Runner, Death Cure. I have pictures of some of the extras, and of the trailers for some of the main actors. I unfortunately wasn’t able to get pictures of the actors, because by the time I figured out they were hanging out at the Civic Center, I was already in line for immigration, so that we could head out that night.

But now that that excitement is subsiding, let me tell you about the rest of time is South Africa. The day in addition to hanging out with seals and penguins, and going on a safari, I also went ziplining and shark cage diving, and took a tour of one of the nearby townships. The ziplining was great. I have been ziplining twice before, both times in Costa Rica. But this was a different experience. Instead of soaring through a tunnel of trees, I flew through a gorge surrounding by mountains. That made for an awesome echo, by the way. The longest line was 330 meters long and took about 35 seconds to get across. For those of you who have never been ziplining, an average line takes about 5-10, 15 seconds tops. Then we had to take a 1 kilometer walk, no, hike, back to the truck that brought us to the first line. I feel like you couldn’t possibly understand the entire experience if I don’t share this truck ride to you, so allow me to explain. Both on the way up, and the way back, the road was dirt, rocky, and sometimes made up by the equivalent of two by fours. There were three rows of seats, not including the driver’s seat row. And there was three people to a row. I’m not sure how, but I ended up on the end of a row, both to and from the lines. There was a bar that was meant to keep you in the truck, but I am still trying to figure out it that bar did more harm than good. I held on to one of the handles on the truck the entire time, so I knew I wasn’t going anywhere when the truck’s movements flung us from left to right like a rag doll. But sometime of the really rough parts, I would get through into this bar. I am sure I internally bruised my ribs, although I haven’t seen the evidence on the service of my skin. Even so, it was a fun day, and I would do it again, given the option. After we got back to the main building, we had some lunch. I got to try some springbok meat, which is basically antelope. It wasn’t bad, to be honest. Not much different from pulled pork, except a little darker in color. It was very tender, and appetizing. Then we headed back to the bus for the two hour ride back to the ship.

Ziplining was followed by shark cage diving. Now, I didn’t do this on a whim, fear not. I have been researching different companies since Vietnam, when my friend and I agreed to go together. We ended up going with the company Shark Diving Unlimited. They were an awesome crew. This was a fun, exciting, exhilarating, and also painful experience. And no, it was not painful, because I was attacked by a shark. That didn’t happen. So stop imagining me getting my arm bit off. When we went in the cage we had to sit will out knees on this one bar, and use the bars above us to keep stead with the waves moving the cage. Our shark diving experience was breath-hold. This means we didn’t have snorkeling gear, nor did we have oxygen tanks. We would wait for the crew to see the shark coming, they would yell down, and we would drop to the bottom of the cage, and look for the shark. Sometimes you saw it, sometimes you didn’t. It depended on where you were in the cage, where the shark decided to swim, and how far away from the cage the shark was. The water was not as clear as we may have wanted, but the crew was able to get the shark close enough to the cage to remedy for the murky water. That being said, if i felt in the mood to risk my hand, I could have touched the shark it I stuck my hand out of the cage. I didn’t, obviously, but I could have. That’s how close it came to the cage. Part of me wanted to, but the larger part of me didn’t want to risk my hand. I got some awesome underwater footage of the sharks. I wish it was more clear, but it is going to be really intense for people to watch, especially those who would never find themselves cage diving. I am totally going again when I can. Now that is the end of the adrenaline inducing adventures I had in South Africa.

I also mention above that I went to one of the townships. The townships in South Africa is basically where the White Africans banished all of the Black and Colored Africans. Colored Africans, in this context, is people of mixed race. The townships are comprised of houses that look there were originally those cargo freights you see on shipping docks. It was a very humbling experience to walk into a township that had virtually nothing, and no respect to accompany it. I went to the township of Khayelitsha. While there we visited three places. The Philani group, the 18 Gangster Museum, and the shop of this one man who has played a key role in his community. Let’s go in order. The first place was the Philani group. This was a mother mentoring program. When one of the women in the township became pregnant, Philani would assign that woman a mentor mother. The mentor mother would help with doctor visits, give advice about care, and help in any way they could. They try to get expectant mothers to get tested for HIV and AIDS, so they can determine if extra steps would be needed to protect their unborn child. Many of the women who have been mentored say that the Philani program is the reason their children are as healthy as they are, and that they feel like they could trust their mentors with anything. My friends and I were talking about this program after we left for the next location. I think it is a very neat and noble cause. I also think it will prove more effective than any outsider group could manage. The thing about these townships is that no one except them can really know what they are going through and the battles they are facing. We were told by a local that they like when white tourist come to visit the townships, because the White Africans wouldn’t be caught dead there. The White Africans do everything in their power to avoid the townships. That being said, I like that they have found a way to use their community to help themselves. The problem that would arise with outsiders coming in to fix things is that, people wouldn’t listen to them. Outsiders don’t experience the everyday struggles of the townships. The locals would just shrug off their advice and keep doing things their own way. But if they have someone, who lives three doors down in the same township, giving them advice, they are going to be more willing to listen, because that person giving them the advice knows how life is, and knows what they are talking about.

The next organization we went to was the 18 Gangster Museum. This isn’t the normal kind of museum that I know just popped into your head. It is relatively new, and is made of the equivalent of the cargo shipping container, just smaller, which is divided in half. On the one side, it describes two different lives. One that succumbed to the gang life, and one that didn’t. The other side is a replica of a jail cell. Here we talked to an ex-con who spent nine months in prison, and is now trying to turn his life around. Luckily, the community that once rejected him, is starting to see his transition, and is slowly inviting him back into society. Anyone, the main purpose of this “museum” is to teach the local kids about the two different ways of live, and hopefully, guide as many as possible toward a live free of gangs. There is a significance to the number 18, but that is really hard to explain over text, so if you are curious about that, ask me when I get home.

Lastly, we went to the home of a local man. He spends his time taking cans and plastics, and recycling them into flowers. Some are magnetic, some at mounted on “stems”. All of the proceeds from selling these flowers, he puts back towards helping his community. Unfortunately, his was away at one of his stores in Eastern Cape, so we were unable to talk to him, but his daughter told us a little about what he did.

There is another thing that happened in South Africa. Not really by choice, but by necessity. This story actually begins all the way back in August. I went deep sea fishing with grandma and grandpa, before school started. Since I didn’t want to lose my classed overboard, I wore more sports glasses. They have a strap to keep them on my face. They were also transitional, so that would turn into sunglasses if the sun were to come out. Well, when we got back to the car, I didn’t see my black glasses case, on the black seat of the car. When I pushed myself into the car, my hand bracing the seat, I crushed my glasses underneath my hand. I pulled them out to inspect the damage. Luckily, it was only the frame, so I very easily fixed them with some super glue and some help from my roommate. Over the fall semester, I had to reapply the super glue once. It held pretty well for a decently long time. Well, while I have been on the ship, back around Japan, I just my glasses about 6 inches onto carpet, and it broke the super glue hold. I went to the reception desk to see if they had any. Luckily, they had confiscated some super glue from one of the other students. We aren’t allowed to have that kind of stuff on board. Anyway, I used it to mend my glasses. This last me until the second last day in South Africa. When I again dropped my glassed on carpet. I missed the table I was aiming for. Well, now there was no super glue, and we aren’t allowed to have duct tape either. So I am stuck wearing my sports glasses for the moment. This is where things get interesting. I tried to repair them using medical tape, but the tape wasn’t strong enough and would fall off within a few hours. So being the college student that I am, I improvised. With my uh-oh kit still open, I catch a glimpse of the Band-Aids I had packs. I took out a Band-Aid and, using scissors, cut out the gauze-like part. Left with two stick pieces I wrapped them around the break on my frame. It held surprisingly well. I wasn’t dumb though, I knew this wouldn’t last for the last two and a half weeks of the voyage. So I had to go to the mall and get a new pair. That was an interesting adventure, because they kept needing more time, but I had to get back to the ship by 1600 to avoid dock time. I did manage to get back in time with new glasses, but we cut it kind of close.

Ghana is our next stop. The only plans I have right now for Ghana is to go to this one village. I will have to wait until I get there to decide on the rest.

Days until I come home: 26