Homage to Lynne and Lourence

Well, we are back. Checking in with kids and adults, I find that we are all at various stages of shaking jet lag, with the exception of one student who simply does not get jet lag!

I really wanted to spend just a couple of paragraphs thanking Lynne and Lourence for doing such a wonderful job with our group during the ten days we were away. When Gary Fountain (head of school) repeatedly said that we would love Lynne, I figured I would love Lynne, but not having been on this trip before, I did not know how much we would love Lynne and count on her, daily, to make sure that we were doing the right thing at the right time in the right place. She really is our feet and voice as the trip is being organized. She understands this age group, seems to love people in general, and, of course, having grown up in the Cape Town area, was able to act as our cultural interpreter at those moments when one was necessary, and did a lot of negociation for the group.

Lynne knew our program and our schedule intimately. She drives out to meet people at all of the sites where the Chatham Hall group will be working, gets to know the people, and makes decisions about which groups would be worthwhile establishing relationships with. All of her prep work made this trip flow. Her level of organization and her ablility to remain calm made her a joy to work with. She also notices just about everything. The morning after our first night at the game reserve, she approached me, looking a bit concerned, and just asked if I were all right as she had not seen be at dinner nor at the activity afterwards. I assured her that I had eaten (but was disguised as a student at that meal) and that I had been wrestling with the blog and Internet connection after dinner. I appreciated the concern and her willingness or professionalism to ask the question.

The girls loved Lynne and I know they were excited about the Wynberg event she made happen. They were tired as they readied for the meal and activities, but were so grateful that that school visit had been arranged. It was such a fun night for the girls and I know that some will keep in touch with girls they met at the occasion.

Lynne maintains a low profile yet accomplishes so much. I just wish to thank her for all of her attention to detail, for her good spirit, sense of humor, and hard work. We recognize that all of those combined to create a very memorable experience for us all.

Now, Lourence. I have been on two hour bus rides from Western Massachusetts to Boston with great bus drivers and bus drivers who have made the trip a challenge...made the two hour trip a challenge. When you are in a foreign country and waking up at 5:00 for an early departure to a site, who that person is greeting you as you get on the bus makes all the difference in the world. Lourence, from Day 1, fit right in. He knows teenage kids, seems to love that age group, treated us all well, and kept us going with his kindness and sense of humor. We could count on him to get us to the right place (Lynne had visited all the sites in order to be able to help Lourence with this), could turn our huge coach bus around in a very small space, pulled over when we wanted to buy grapes, stopped when we saw a beautiful beach, and went to pick up our lunches several times, made sure that we were comfortable, and kept us going with his puns, as with Lynne, his kindness, and his knowledge of the area. Lourence was well-versed in several of the languages of the Cape Town area and could mingle, culturally, with lots of different groups.

Lourence was there when we woke up, helped us prepare meals, gardened with us, accompanied us to restaurants, offered his own unique perspective and knowledge on the area, and was a wonderful complement to Lynne's guide talents. The thing that surprised all of us was that until Lynne and Lourence came to the airport to pick us up when we arrived, they had never met. Their collaboration and ease with which they worked together speaks to the wonderful people they are and certainly made this trip even more enjoyable for all of us!

So, thank you, Lynne and Lourence. Your talents, hard work, humor, and knowledge were most appreciated by all of us. We miss you!

Home

We arrived, miraculously, pretty much right on time at Dulles after interesting travel experiences on Thursday and Friday.

Thursday began with a reasonably late (8:15 A.M.) departure from the hotel and a stop at the Green Market flea market in Cape Town. Students and adults had a great time bargaining after Lynne had us all repeat, "Are you out of your mind?" in response to the first price any of the vendors quoted. I do believe that we all were convincing in our incredulity as there were some great deals made at the flea market.

At the airport, it was tough for everyone to leave Lynne and Lourence behind. While Lynne works with Alterra, the Washington, D. C.-based group that organizes this trip, and has locked in our South African contact position, we are hopeful that Lourence will be able to request -- or that Lynne will be able to request Lourence for next year, as he was another part of what made this trip so enjoyable. We made our farewells and headed in to check our (heavy!) luggage. At the actual gate, the TSA has its own security procedures that it carries out for all trips to the U. S., so we were all lined up, asked to put our hand luggage on the ground, watched while a dog sniffed it, checking, I assume, for explosives. We were then all frisked and had our hand bags searched.

The flights were uneventful except, of course, for their length. There were some beautiful views of Cape Town as we took off -- we could see Robben Island, Table Mountain, and other sites that had become like home to us.

We did have a plane search in Dakar, where we stopped again to refuel. We arrived at Dulles on time or a little early, went through customs and immigration, jumped in to our Chatham Hall vehicles, and headed home.

We were greeted by members of the Chatham Hall community who were a little more awake than we were. People began dispersing in Washington, so that sense of "Oh, this has come to an end," did not hit as hard as those moments when a whole group realizes at once, that their reason for being, has ended. This was a gentler ending.

For me, the weekend was spent welcoming family to campus and trying not to nod off before 10:00 p.m. each evening. South Africa seems very far away in many ways, yet in the forefront of my mind in others. As I unpack my belongings...things I acquired, things I bought, a thoughtful note from those who cleaned my room at Aquila...I think of the inspiration for those purchases or the two pebbles I picked up (one in the shape of a heart) as I stood on Robben Island with the prison behind me and the freedom of Cape Town across the water.

Today, in Assembly, Rector Gary Fountain told of a book he read over break -- one having to do with the causes of poverty and the two main results for it -- hunger and homelessness. It was moving to hear him relate this book to the work that Chatham Hall students did at a Habitat for Humanity house in Danville -- a house that the School sponsored, as well as the meals that Chatham Hall provided for students at Lawrencia School. The poverty that we saw in South Africa was overwhelming at times, and it was easy to think, "Why bother? There is so much to do, it seems that preparing two meals for three days won't make that much of a difference." And "Will helping a few people make compost make a difference?" Well, the simple answer is yes. When I think back on a massive amount of weeds with which we fought as we cleared land for a future orphanage, or the looks of hope on the faces of the kids who had a meal at lunchtime, and when I see the gardens that Soil for Life has made happen -- some with our help, I realize, that a friend who always asks the question, "How do you eat an elephant?" is right. You eat an elephant a little at a time. You solve these problems a little at a time...and it will take some time. The thing that will keep such work going are the little bites of elephant...a meal here...a garden there. Some "wet, green" and some "dry, brown." A layer here, a layer there. That's how it will get done. Maybe that's the best way -- working closely with small groups so that one can see, at the human level, that every little bit helps. Every little bit makes a difference. Lynne, in a warm farewell to us, made that clear, I hope, to the students on this trip. Their presence made a difference to individuals; they helped eat the elephant.

There will be one more post after this one!

Day Three at Lawrencia and Botanical Garden

Today was a strange day, because we all knew that after visiting classes, and helping in the Library and Computer Room, that we'd be leaving, saying goodbye to new friends and people who were very appreciative of our visit and time with the kids (or "learners," as students are called here). We were accompanied by several Wynberg (Sorry, Wynberg, for spelling your school's name wrong in the last posting!) students and faculty member. They had never been to Lawrencia, but jumped right in to help prepare food and work with the Lawrencia kids.
But I have gotten ahead of myself -- we stopped at the Diet Coke place again this morning and had a wonderful conversation with a woman who suspected we were not South African. She knew right where Lawrencia was and was happy we were had spent and were going to spend more time there.

After feeding the Diet Coke addiction, we arrived at the school and took up where we had left off yesterday. Shawn (Sean?) was all ready with the food for us to prepare -- cereal for breakfast and hotdogs and "crisps" for lunch. The breakfast went off like clockwork and the lunch was easy to prepare, but the clean up for lunch was made somewhat laborious by the "crisps." They were not potato chips, but rather, a Cheeto-like snack coated in a sweet powder that was bright red. By the end of lunch, the plates had a red cast to them, Katie Jo's arm was red from scooping the crisps out of the bag, water was red, dish rags were red, the floor was red. But the thing I loved about the lunch was when Shawn said he wanted to see the little kids' faces when they saw the food because it was fun food for them. Well, he was right! The kids were very happy with this departure from the norm, demolished the chips, downed the hotdogs, and drank up the fruit drink.

When the day was over, all of the students came into the kitchen/eating area, along with the teachers, and they wished us a safe journey home and the hope to see us again. The adults then went to the Staff Room where we said our goodbyes and expressed our hopes for the future of this relationship. This session was begun but an eleven-year old boy who had a lovely voice. He sang a song and then said a prayer -- the teachers called him "Preacher," as he clearly was articulate and voiced a meaningful prayer, and did so with feeling and a wisdom beyond his years.

We made our way back to the bus, walking through the hoards of kids who blocked our way, asking for one more hug or photo. We were finally able to board the bus and were on our way, tired and overwhelmed by the experience.






After a short respite at the hotel (read, "Walk to the gelato place"), we reboarded the bus and made our way to the botanical garden for dinner. On the way, we stopped at a breathtaking pull off overlooking the Atlantic. To say that it was windy was to vastly underestimate the power of wind. Sand whipped against our legs, our faces, and some got in my eyes. It's not as though I haven't had sand in my eyes before, but never at speeds approaching that of these grains of sand. In any case, I did jump down and got as close as I could to the edge and did touch the water. I would say that while it was cold, it was nowhere near as cold as the water in Vinalhaven, ME, where I enjoy swimming. Before the wind blew us all into the water, we got back on the motor coach and finished up the drive to the garden, where Fay met us with our dinner. We sat on benches and the ground on a beautiful section of the garden.

Our tranquility was disturbed by birds (partridges?) who would not take "No!" for an answer and came at us, getting a good running start from up the hill, and, in the end, did snag a hamburger off Margaret's plate, chased Corinna up into a tree (Yeah, except you're not supposed to climb the trees!), and startled Charlotte from two different directions.

I joined a group that walked pretty far up into the garden in order to have a view of the city. Despite the cool wind, the panoramic scene was worth it. As the time approached for us to leave, we headed back down only to find Mr. Merricks and the Merrickettes staging a live performance on the outdoor stage. If they don't join us on the plane tomorrow, it just means they've been held over for more performances.

One more trip to the Waterfront brought the evening to a close. For some, this was one more Hagen Daz. For others, one more visit to a favorite shop. I was of two minds -- the first was how I was going to miss Lynne and Lourence, as they have both made this trip so enjoyable and easy. It was really gone off without a hitch. The other thing I was thinking of was that I could not exactly remember which door we'd come in. As I was thinking about that, along came Lynne and Lourence who directed me to the correct door. See what I mean?

We are now back at the hotel. As it was as we left for this country, many of us had no idea what to expect. As we leave to go home, it will be hard to fathom what leaving will mean -- leaving a place we have grown to love, where we have been warmly welcomed, and which is so gosh darned far away from home.

I am going to finish this up and go to bed, as today was very tiring for all, I think. Part of that is the rigorous schedule we've kept for these 10 days. The other part is the emotional fatigue of processing what we've done and whether we could ever, really, do enough.

If you don't hear from me for a day or so, that just means that I'm flying and moving from plane to plane and not getting Internet. Tomorrow, we leave the hotel at 8:15 a.m., go to a flea market for an hour or so, and then head to the airport.

Lawrencia and Wynberg Schools

Hello! What a day! We began with what has become or will soon be a tradition for this SA group as we departed the hotel and went to our favorite gas station/convenience store to get Diet Coke. While I had said earlier that I would not divulge the names of these Diet Coke fanatics, there is now photographic proof. Be advised the Lynne is merely there to make sure the students and adults make it across the road safely.

Our day at Lawrencia was pleasant. There seems to be a core crew of people who work in the kitchen, as the adults want the students to have as much contact with the students (and, frankly, that's what the students want!), so we increase the number in the kitchen as we get to the minutes before the Lawrencia students arrive to eat, but other than that, we have a skeleton crew who does the prep work. That group is directed by Shawn (Sean?) who is a caterer who planned the meals (with kids in mind), purchased the food for us, and is taking charge of what is being served when. He is great to work with and understands what these kids need and that they have to have some fun with their meals. Today we served corn flakes and apples for breakfast and Sean (Shawn?) grilled sausages for the younger kids and chicken for the older kids. Both had a tomato-y pasta along with that and a passion fruit beverage. Once again, we raced through the washing of the dishes from the first seating to accommodate the kids who were chomping at the bit to get in for the second seating. This time, because of the addition of a beverage, we had 130 styrofoam cups to wash along with the spoons and dishes. This task was made easier by the dish towels and soap that Cricket purchased for the school.

Kids spent time in classrooms, the computer room, and the library, as yesterday, and were pleased to read to and be read to by the students. Students are learning to read in both English and Afrikaans. In speaking with Mr. Peters, I learned that although the school recognizes that it is very important for the students to read and write English fluently, in order to become literate, they need to be able to read Afrikaans, as well. To that end, we will continue to purchase books in both English and Afrikaans for the library.


After lunch, several students organized a game of Duck, Duck, G00se, because who doesn't like that game. I enjoyed witnessing the vigor with which Lawrencia students chased each other down and, when close enough to tag the other player, how they frequently resorted to the much more fun hard tackle rather than just that gentle tag.

Our photographer in residence, Mr. Wood, brought several digital cameras for the Lawrencia students to use. It was a mad house when he brought the cameras out. The kids love having their pictures taken and love to take pictures apparently. Mr. Wood will make CDs of the photos and send them back to the school.

Our Chatham Hall soccer players held a soccer clinic for the girls of Lawrencia. Many girls played in this spirited game. Mr. Wood shooed off any boy who dared set foot on the field (and there were a few) so that the girls could have this time together. the Lawrencia girls exhibited their skills from one to two o'clock, with classes ending a little bit early to accommodate the clinic. The students are all appreciative of the energy that our students put into their activities at the school. At the end of the day, students come right up and give wonderful hugs as we promise to see them again tomorrow.




As soon as we returned to the hotel (well, after some gelato) we prepared to visit the Wynberg Girls' High School, located about 30 minutes from our hotel. We drove up and out of the city, enjoying beautiful vistas and the calm of the residential areas that overlook the city. We arrived at the school at about 5:30 and were greated by very friendly students who took us on a tour (as I do not have permission to use the names of the faculty and students of the school, I will not) of the large school (mostly day, with 70 boarders from Namibia) beautifully situated near the mountains. The schools flag appears to the right.



A warm welcome from more students, the head of school, deputy head, and several faculty members began a relationship that we hope will continue. From the melodious and full sounds of the chorus that sang two selections to the marimba band (I have been assaulted by students wanted to start a marimba band at Chatham Hall) that wowed us, to the cultural quiz, language puzzle, and the gumboot dance demonstration (Chatham Hallers - remember the African dance group that visited last year did a version of this dance?) and lesson (Go, Akeila!), and a lovely dinner, we all felt at ease and among friends. The Chatham Hall group recited the Pledge of Allegiance, sang the Star-spangled Banner and the Chatham Hall Alma Mater, and answered questions from the students and faculty of Wynberg.

A few moments were taken to recognize the winners of the different contests. Akeila won for her ability at the gumboot dance. Her table tied with the faculty table (Go faculty!) on the cultural quiz. Great thanks were given to those who helped out -- and I would like to offer a special thanks to Lynne and the wonderful Wynberg teacher who organized the evening. She will be in New York this July, so if you see her, make sure to say hello.




Prior to our departure, student exchanged e-mails and had a chance to chat more before Mr. Wood led us all in singing "We are the World." No, that's not right. He organized a group photo about which teachers from both school commented that the girls all looked great together. Chatham Hall students (and faculty) would love to have a visit from these girls!










As we left the school, students were somewhat put out that we were having to leave, but we have another early wake up tomorrow (can't leave too late or we can't stop for the Diet Cokes!) and the Wynberg students probably had homework. It was with heavy heart that we left, but with Facebook and other manners of communication, I'm pretty sure that these kids know how to contact one another. So thank you, Wyneberg, for a very enjoyable evening!

Okay, time to see if I have time left in order to add photos, or if Internet time will run out (I am prepared with a new code) and if the code they gave me will actually work. If it does not, I'll be going down to the lobby in my pajamas to ask for a new code. It's okay, the staff are used to it...I did it last night! Twice!

Dishpan hands -- Lawrencia School, Day One

Well, we had an early wake up call (really, at this point, anything before 9 is early!) and all of the students and teachers and those crazy parents were on the bus by 7:30. The problem is that some of the adults, and I will not mention their names because I just learned that this blog is linked to the school Web site and I do not want to cause undue embarrassment, cannot really start the day until they've had their Diet Cokes. Lourence, our busdriver (but he is soooo much more than a busdriver!), who is THE MAN, said, "Not a worry. I know a place." He drove toward the Lawrencia School and at some point we found ourselves in a somewhat residential community with a gas station and convenience store. He stopped the bus, the adults jumped off, Lynne jumped off, too, to make sure we got across the road okay because in South Africa, people drive on the left, and this is not London which has those arrows that say everything but "Hey, idiot tourist! Look this way or you will die!"Purchases were made, Diet Cokes were consumed, and all was well. We arrived at the school about 15 minutes later than we had anticipated, but we just chalk that up to the all the rush hour traffice. Except the rush hour traffic was going the other way.

Upon our arrival at the school, we were met by a phalanx of students who lined the walk and sang their school song as we passed through. Soon, all of the students lined up and serenaded us with the South African national anthem. After an awkward silence which had us whispering, "Are we supposed to sing now? What shall we sing?" the music teacher got everyone singing "He's Got the Whole World in his Hands." We all left that gathering to meet with the teachers and then head off to our areas. The teachers' lounge was festively decorated with photos of Chatham Hall SA 1-3, signs expressing the students' joy at having us as visitors, and pictures of VA so we would not be homesick. (Sorry, VA, there has been very little, "Oh, if only I were in Virginia right now, I'd...")

CH students and teachers dispersed to the Library, Computer Room, and various classrooms. There was a certain degree of structure, but many teachers were just happy to have English speakers in the classrooms. Several of us went to the cafeteria to help make breakfast (two seatings ) for the 290 or so students at the school. Breakfast was to be Weet-Bix with hot milk and a package of cookies (the gentleman who owns a catering business and who had very nicely cone all the shopping and meal planning for us wanted to have a few things that he knew the kids would rarely have access to). We set up for the first 130 students (first through third graders), and then those who had been working in the kitchen went to visit a first grade class.



First grade classes are, of course, defined by the word "cute." The teacher, who had actually previously worked at the Levana School (Day 2 of Soil for Life, rain, building our own compost piles). She was clearly a dedicated teacher, loved her students, and had developed quite a rapport with them. They counted in Afrikaans and English for us, then we taught them the Alphabet Song. We sang "Old MacDonald," they sang the Afrikaans version, and then the teacher put on some music and the kids danced. Boy, can they dance! I was pulled up front by a boy who felt the same way that I do about the letter "j." It's a letter that must be said frequently and loudly. If you know me, you know that dancing is not one of my favorite things, but when a 6-year old grabs you and wants to dance, there is nothing to do but dance. Taylor and Catherine made a very good attempt at teaching the students the Electric Slide. It was a little tough with a small space and lots of kids, but the kids clearly appreciated the effort.


Pretty soon, it was time for the first breakfast seating at 10:00. Any sense of complacency was wiped out when we realized that we'd have to wash most of the bowls that the first seating used, as well as the spoons (first seating -- 130 kids) and get the second seating's food on the table with a very short turn around time. Cheryl and I washed and washed and washed using scalding water and our hands (no soap). The porridge did rinse out pretty easily, but it still took a while. While we were doing that, students and other teachers were putting the clean dishes out, putting more cereal, milk, and sugar in them and getting them on the table so they could add the milk. Meanwhile, the older kids (grades 4-9) were lining up and were hungry. To say that we were sweating (well, the scalding water did not help), is a mild understatement. The intensity of the meal prep almost had us looking back fondly on "Wet, green."


As soon as we'd cleaned the dishes from the second breakfast seating, we had to gear it up for lunch: polony, (Yeah, okay, if you don't know what this is by now, you have not been reading carefully enough), hot dog, cucumber, tomato, beans, catsup, bread, and a special snack upon departure. Bread had to be buttered (I could not tell you how many loaves of bread we used, but they kept coming). Ron and the caterer opened can after can of beans. Amy and Mary Kathryn sliced cukes and tomatoes, and I am going to miss some names here because some of us were rushing to peel 130 hard boiled eggs before the first lunch seating and were not entirely at one with time and space. One hundred and thirty hard boiled eggs do not just peel themselves. One of the women who usually helped prepare lunch and who was with us, said, under her breath to Lynne, "Lynne, next year, no eggs." I concur! Unless they are scrambled.

We had barely got the food on the table for the first lunch seating when the second seating began to line up. Back it was to washing the dishes and getting them back out on the table in order to put the food out for the older kids. It was hectic and intense and extremely mentally fatiguing. And we persevered with humor and the desire to not look like the 28+ adults could not put together a lunch.





At left, Cricket, Catherine, Jiachen, Kathleen, a Lawrencia staff member, and Lourence prepare the second seating. Please note students lined up outside back door. Please note how we are not even ready.







After lunch, and clean up, we again went to the different areas, but then found out that school actually ended at 2:00. While we had thought we would be at the school until about 4:00, the work in the kitchen had tired everyone out so much that we were happy to board the bus at about 2:30. Several people fell asleep. Back at the hotel, some napped, some showered, and some went for gelato. (It was cold and it was tasty. And it's right near the hotel.)





Cheryl and I took a very fast walk (in the sense that we were moving quickly) along the water to go to the Waterfront for dinner and shopping. It took us about 45 minutes, and, due to our speed and the very warm air, we were overcome by that phenomenon where you don't sweat until you stop your activity and then it just pours off of you. The very kind young woman at the Robben Island Museum Shop grinned appropriately and was probably just as happy when we bought our stuff and got out of the store. At left is just another small purchase I made on the Waterfront at Exotic Imports.


Great dinner by the water followed by gelato (Hey! It's small amounts!) We are now back at the hotel getting ready to go to bed to make sure that we're back at Lawrencia by 8:00 a.m. in order to get that breakfast going.

A bit about the Lawrentia kids. As we left, many of them came up and hugged us. As they brought their plates up after eating, they thanked us for the food. After we ate our meals (not the same food the students were eating, we put our garbage (some of which was uneaten food -- I, for example, did not eat my potato salad) on a box. As school was ending, a woman who helped us with lunch put that box out so the young students could pick through what we had not eaten and some of which we had eaten a part of (unfinished chicken legs, for example). A sad sight, but I am glad they got the extra food. (Dramatic pause...)


Okay, I'll add the photos and get this posted! More tomorrow!

Robben Island and Malay Quarter

We departed Aquila at the relatively civilized hour of 7:30 a.m. with breakfasts on the bus. Another stunning ride through the mountains. We even saw more baboons in two different locations. Baboons are perhaps not as nice to each other as they could be...we witnessed one booting another down a hill as though he were a soccer ball.

We arrived back in Cape Town a little after 10:00 a.m. Today, there was a huge (at least 39,000 riders) bike race right in the city, so traffic was crazy. Rumor has it that Lance Armstrong was even participating. Shortly after our arrival, we boarded a ferry to visit the prison on Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years. The ride was gorgeous - strange how the ride out to this place could be so beautiful. The sea was a bright blue, the waves broke white on the rocks on the island, and birds raced us to the island.

Chatham Hall was met by a guide who escorted us to several sites on the island. We first walked out to Penguin Boardwalk to see the, um, penguins. Well, they must have heard we were coming, because there was a mass, and I mean mass, exodus off the island. We could see hundreds of penguins swimming out to sea. I could not have been something we said...but I don't gknow.













Next, we were driven up to the prison where we were taken on a tour by a gentleman who was an prisoner of Robben Island during the 1970's and '80's. We were able to see many different kinds of cells (solitary, two person cells, four person, and then rooms that would hold up to 52 prisoners. Life was pretty grim for these prisoners. We certainly learned quite a bit. Political prisoners, apparently the worst kind, we made to work in a limestone quarry (very hot in summer, very cold in winter) from eight until four every day. Criminals (not the political prisoners) were taught skills, but the political prisoners were feared, so there was no real attempt made to teach them anything. They were allowed to apply to study, and their ability to do so was based on their behavior.

Food was not copious -- we saw a menu of what types of foods (fats, beverages, starches) the different types of prisoners were allotted each day. It made me think of the school where we'd made lunch for the students. Not much food.

The displays were interesting in that the prison had been left pretty much as it had been, but the museum had political prisoners relate some of their stories which were printed up on the walls of the cells. The cells themselves, were small, featuring, usually, a bed, cupboard, waste can (read "toilet"), and at a later date, a small table.

I asked our prison tour guide if many of the former prisoners were still active politically. He said that maybe a handful continued to be, but that the younger generation was not as concerned because they had not lived through it and saw things as being okay.

After the prison, we visited a house were Sobukwe, a political prisoner who had forwarded the anti-apartheid cause as much as Mandela, had spent his time and were able to view letters that he had written to his wife, recommendations that others wrote as he applied for jobs prior to his imprisonment, and a small unit where his children and wife were allowed to stay when they visited.

We had a great shot of Cape Town from the island. The sky was clear and we could easily see Table Mountain rising up behind the city.






The quarry was stark and featured a pile of stones that Mandela and other political prisoner made when they visited during a reunion of such Robben Island prisoners.

Back at the hotel until 6:30 p.m. (though Lourence says he will not bring the bus back into the city until after 9:00 p.m. tonight because of all the bikers!), when we leave to have dinner in the Malay district which we drove through our first morning on the way to Table Mountain.

Well, I am going to try to get this posted before the Internet conks out! More later or tomorrow!

I lied. The Internet is working now, so I am going to type up our evening, try to download a couple of pictures, and go to bed. We have an early wake up call.

This evening, we ate a delicious dinner at a restaurant in the Malay quarter. This area is striking for many reasons, the most obvious to the eye would be the bright pastel colors that individual houses are painted. Lourence said that the reason for the eye-popping colors was because, initially, the inhabitants could not read, so one could say, "I live in the pink house," and friends would be able to find it.

The food tonight had a distinctly Indian feel to it. We were greeted by a wonderful and welcoming staff in the restaurant, and explanation of the appetizers on the table (Mmmm! My favorite -- samosas!) and then were served a chicken curry, sweet and sour beef, and a vegetable curry. Even the most timid tasted something. The rest of the meal consisted of a very chocolatey ice cream and a refreshing strawberry ice cream that was quite startling in its pinkness!

The highlight of the evening were our two guests -- one, a former political prisoner of Robben Island; the other, a former guard of this prisoner's section. The prisoner (I will have to get his name so that I can spell it correctly in the future) and guard knew each other in the prison. Both knew Nelson Mandela. It was striking to hear the stories from these two points of view. The guard grew up in the country on his father's farm. His playmates were black children and he did not know of apartheid until he went to the city and noticed the segregation. He went to work as a prison guard to avoid having to join the military where a friend had recently been killed. He began working at Robben Island at the age of 18 and met the prisoner who joined us for dinner that same year -- the year of his imprisonment -- 1978. Both men spoke of having an immediate understanding of one another. The guard first addressed the prisoner in Afrikaans, so each understood that they were from the countryside. The guard told a story of Winnie Mandela bringing a baby, her grandchild, to the island to see if she could show the baby to Nelson Mandela. This guard told her no, that it was not allowed. In his heart, though, he wanted Mandela to be able to see the baby. He called his supervisor who told him that they would have to keep it a secret and that Winnie could not keep a secret -- Nelson could, but Winnie could not. So they devised a ploy for the guard to be able to hold the baby, got Winnie out of the room, showed Nelson the baby (Nelson shook and wept as he held the baby), got the baby back, opened up the door and let Winnie back in. Winnie, at that point, offered to pay the guard a month's salary to be able to show Nelson the baby. He told her he could not and he and Nelson never spoke of that again. To this day, the guard has contact with Mandela and even brought photos taken very recently of a visit he had with the former president of South Africa.

The prisoner spoke of reconciliation and the need to forget any anger that may have arisen out of apartheid and needless imprisonments. He is not angry. He did say that he believed that as a young man, he probably had to go through some anger to be able to appreciate the concept of reconciliation and the ability to move forward. He was a student when he was arrested and the guard spoke of the respect that he and other guards had for the political prisoners, as they were educated and could actually help the guards with their studies. As the prisoners studied at night, some guards would ask to work at night in order to receive help with their work from the prisoners.

It is hard to capture the impact of this evening -- being in a room with two people who could, by all rights, hate each other, but who clearly enjoyed each other's company and who clearly respected each other. As our bus pulled away, these two men, both of who live and work on Robben Island, got into the guard's small pick up truck and drove away.

Back at the hotel, as I said, bed time with an early wake up. Tomorrow, we go to the Lawrencia school where we will spend the next three days.

Good night!

Braveheart Home and Gno Gnus is Ggood Gnus

We began the day with the cheetahs and finished up with more lions. After a quick breakfast, we headed off to Braveheart Home, a future orphanage for HIV-Aids children. The home is located about 30 minutes from the reserve. On the way, we saw real, life baboons along the side of the road. I had never seen real live baboons by the side of the road before. There are a lot of things that I had not seen (or done) before arriving in S. A.

At the Braveheart Home, we heard an impassioned talk (short!) by the woman whose dream it has been to open such a home. She knows what frequently happens to a family when a parent is diagnosed with HIV-Aids and understands exactly what happens to children in the local squatter villages when that diagnosis is received. Children are left to struggle for themselves. She has spent many years pursuing this dream, and it is with great hope that the home will open in June. She has rallied the town (De Doorns) around her and has received much support from local farmers (mostly grape growers) who see the need for such. The locals have given her money to buy the house, time to make renovations, and moral support in the hope that her dream will be realized.

We were a little leery as we arrived and saw the condition of the yard around the house (which has been vacant for some time). As "gardening" is a four-letter word to us now, having done so much of it under, at times, trying conditions, we really had hoped to do other things, such as painting, roofing, sanding, cleaning...pretty much anything but gardening. Well, we were divided up into five groups and were asked to clear the weeds (dense!) for up to a meter from the house on two sides. Another group, mine, was asked to clear the rubble off the patio. Well, there's rubble and then there's rubble. This was rubble of the sort that is cemented to the patio. Well, with shovels and pitchforks, we were able to clear away much cement. Andre, a farmer who is helping Ahmoret (the women opening the home) brought us a pitchfork. Amy and Cricket went to town on the half of the pile that was left. We cleared it out pretty quickly, swept the area, and headed off for other work. The two weed killing groups worked hard throughout the day and accomplished quite a task. There was a rhythm to that work - and as anyone who worked that detail will tell you, the popping sound of the roots snapping is like music to one's ears.

Vancy, Jiachen, Corinna, Amy, Cricket, Margaret, and Catherine after having demolished the large mound of cement.





Christina swings a mad machete as Akeila looks on.

Other groups painted in the house. Doors that were ready for varnish were treated to numerous coats. Cricket and Cheryl scraped walls of one of the bathrooms and were covered in robin's egg blue paint chips for their trouble. Ron and his group moved massive furniture in one room, and cleared weeds from one side of the house. There were also rumors that he was leading his group in some rap songs, but this is largely unsubstantiated.

A path is cleared, and one can see the beautiful, previously rubble-covered, patio.

Don Wood led the charge on one side of the house and ended up, with his group, clearing quite a distance and creating a path to the back of the house. One word about just about all of this work today: dusty. We were absolutely covered in dust and dirt (and had to reapply sun screen over the dust and dirt throughout the day). Yuck.

Lunch. Lunch was delicious, though there were some sausages that left us wondering. Most did not partake of them, but they were the target of many a joke and some uncontrollable laughter during our all-too-short lunch break.

At 3:00, we left Braveheart with it looking much better than when we'd arrived. Ahmoret and Andre were most impressed with all of our work. At the beginning, Andre looked at the group and said, "I thought there'd be more men." Well, these girls worked straight through the day with, as always, good humor, a great spirit, and creative thinking in order to get jobs done with the tools at hand. (Opening the can of varnish required four people and several implements which one would probably never associate with this task. You never know when an old towel rack will come in handy.)

Back at the ranch, we had an hour and a half to clean up and relax. I was able, finally, to use the outdoor shower (a stone addition to each bathroom, open to the sky and quite airy). I am going to use it tonight just to view the stars, which are, by the way, spectacular. I could see the Milky Way quite clearly right in the middle of the sky last night.

We began our second safari ride with the same guide in my vehicle as last night. Well, he sure likes to talk and repeat himself, but the trouble is, it is sometimes hard to hear him (what with the motor running and all, and his somewhat soft voice, and his accent). Well, he began quizzing us on last night's information, some of which we remembered and some of which we could have sworn we had never heard before. There was quite a fascination tonight on his part, with the gnus. We sat and looked at the gnus for a very long time, which, combined with fatigue, led to a certain amount of punchiness on the part of the adults in my vehicle. If we could add a "g" to a word and arrive at a barely funny utterance, we added it and we uttered it. Clever sayings such as "Gno gmore gnus!" and "Gno he didn't!" and "Gnight, gnus!" peppered the evening air and left us just breathless at our own ability to think that really dopey things were funny!

The best linguistically-challenging part of the ride, however, occurred when our guide stopped the truck, picked a few leaves off a plant, held it up, and exclaimed, "This is used very much with the enemas." Hmm. This did not really compute, so our internal vocabulary databases began clicking through other possible words that he could have said. "Enemy?" No. We are on a safari ride. "Enema" just does not make sense. Gno, it does gnot." It finally clicked that he was saying "animals," and our realization (and punchiness) had us laughing at that funny misinterpretation to the point where the driver should have left us to fend for ourselves in the lion area.

Ah, the lion area. We went back tonight as were treated to an even closer contact than last night (last night - 10 feet). Tonight, those crazy lions really wanted to get up close and personal with us to the point where they kind of chased us a little. This of course, caused us to basically see the chance for even more interesting photos. Click. Click. There was one parent who thought that maybe we should head for the exit, but cooler (hmmm, crazier?) minds prevailed and we have some fabulous shots of these beautiful (and hungry -- apparently they are not fed again -- by the ranger anyway -- until next week) animals.

A memorable day in many ways (we saw baboons by the side of the road!!!!) -- a fine combination of hard work for an important cause and just plain fun. Tomorrow, we will be given the chance to see the leopard who was hiding this morning and then leave for Cape Town and Robben Island at 7:30 a.m. Several kids have asked me if there will be any gardening at Laurencia, the school where we will spend our last three days (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday). The short answer is "No!"

It is now almost 5:30 p.m. on Sunday. Sorry for the delay. The Internet has been a nightmare!

More tomorrow!