posted: 10/27/07

I've been here a little while now. I'm settled in, comfortable, and working. I've borrowed a mountain bike from a friend in Eshowe, and fixed it up. It's getting me around to a few local schools, and will be my main form of transportation for a while, in addition to the black taxi's and the Weshesha bus.

Just as I'm getting things really going here, I'm now thinking about my next project... NEPAL!!

I am taking some time out of my South Africa project to work with at least one high school near Pokhara, and see the gorgeous mountains. I can't wait! I'll spend almost a week in Khatmandu, then a couple of weeks in Pokhara, and back to South Africa.

I'm pretty busy during the week, and on the weekends, I go mountain biking through the little forest that's behind the hotel, drink Zulu Blonde from the Zululand Brewery, and visit local tribal ceremonies. I haven't started learning Zulu much yet, but hopefully I'll pick some up soon.

I've gotten in good with the brew master, and next week, we are planning to make an IPA together. Success at last!

posted: 10/25/07

My life lost a bit of meaning today, but gained a bit of satisfaction at the same time. For several months, my girlfriend and I have been discussing the idea of powdered beer to take backpacking with us. Beer without the weight. I'd do anything (except carry it) to have a cold beer when I get to camp from a long hike. I was shocked last night when I was told some one here had done it, and got put out of business by SA Brewers (the second largest brewing company in the world). I was even more appalled today when I was at the supermarket today buying food for dinner, and I found it on the shelf. So much for my get rich quick scheme, but at least I'll be able to have beer at camp... 24 hours later.

posted: 10/25/07

I felt mildly better today. I've been sick, with a mild feverless fever. Mostly headaches. I went to Nkandla in the morning with 3 people from the department of education who are doing exam monitoring. The 12th grade Matrics are going on right now. Nkandla is a very small town comprised mostly of government services, a gas station, and a store or two. The land is very rural, and very pretty. It's more inland than Eshowe, the hills are steeper and taller, the forest is thicker, and the storms are magnificent. The only accommodation I found, was a conference center and lodge run by the Nkandla municipality. It's on the high side of my budget at R150($22) per night, but it's amazing. Tall loft style thatch roofed huts, with a full personal kitchen, deck, and upstairs loft sleeping, and it's own lightning pole! It's storm season, and I am waiting in Eshowe for a break in the storms to get up there to work with schools in the area, because the dirt road from Eshowe to Nkandla is a muddy 4x4 road in the rain. I visited a couple of schools, and got things prepped for my return. We got back to Eshowe in the early afternoon, and I decided to head to Durban right away so I could have the morning to get things done.I frantically pack my stuff, and hop on a mini bus taxi. These are the most prevalent vehicle on the roads, and always crammed full of people. They are cheap too, although not always the safest. It was almost 4:00 pm. When I reached Durban a couple of hours later, I got dropped off at the market, and it was starting to get dark. I've got a room at Nomads backpackers waiting for me, but I've got no clue where I am, where they are, or how to get there, and I'm not feeling well. These are the times you carry the guide books. I pull it out and try to get some information; It basically said nothing but that I shouldn't be where I was at the time it was, taking the transport I did. Nothing about how to get out of here, or find my backpackers, or any information of any use to me. At this point I must've looked a little defeated, and a young guy walked up and started talking to me. I asked him where I could get a local taxi to take me to the backpackers. He said he would take me there.

So we start walking towards Berea st. (the backpackers is in Berea district) and quickly head out of the populated market. He begins to tell me his life story.

He is a lifegaurd on the beach, and a surfer. He explained that surfing saved him as a kid, as he came from a very broken household, the jist of which I can only begin to imagine. He was constantly beaten, starved, stabbed, and abused by his uncles and parents, and often ended up sleeping on the streets, doing drugs and the likes. A real sob story huh? He was smiling the whole time he told this to me in impeccable english.

This whole time we are walking away from the market and the people are becoming more sparse along with the light. I'm intrigued by his story, but it's so perfect, almost rehearsed, that I'm a little suspicious.

He had a white friend that would sometimes let him crash at his place, and taught him to surf. Surfing hit him like no other drug could, and he was hooked.

His dream is to teach underprivileged kids how to surf. You can see the determination in his eyes, and the passion that drives him. He isn't sure how to go about it, but he wants to partner with an organization, and some schools, and scoop up a bunch of kids off the street, and from bad homes, and teach them to surf. He feels grateful for the life he has now, and wants to give back to other people in his old situation.

At this point, we were standing on a corner, and he headed for an empty dark street, so I asked him where we were going and he said the taxi's were here. Sure enough, my paranoid white guy eyes saw everything, except the line of taxis waiting at the curb in front of us. He helps me talk to the drivers, only one of which knows the road the guest house is on. He shakes my hand and walks off.

I want to find this kid again if I can. All I know is he's a lifeguard at the beach, that's miles long, Durban's know for the length of their beaches. I guess I got some beach time to get in once the storms pass.

If you don't like real life experiences, then you could take the Baz Bus like most of the backpackers here. It's a hop on, hop off at your leisure (on their sparse schedule) service that drives you right to the front door of all the major backpackers in the beaten path. It promises to strip you of all possible interaction with locals not working in the tourism industry, and charge you a pretty penny for it. My taxi from Eshowe to Durban cost me R60 ($8.75) and the baz bus costs R280 ($40). You can however be efficiently picked up and dropped off from every major tour starting location in the country. Not quite my styles.

Walking around Durban is like a lot of major cities, busy, chaotic, hurried, LOUD, oh man is Durban loud. It's full of mini bus taxis the way New Yorks full of yellow cabs, but the streets are twice as wide. Reminiscent of LA, but more ridiculous. The mini bus taxis have decals all over them, and some are full of horribly distorted sub and tweeter only sound systems cranked to the max with dance music, or old American pop R&B. They weave through the streets, driver honking his horn, and the caller in the back whistling with his head out of the window, waiving his arms at you to get in his cab, and not one of the other 3000 on this block driving past you doing the same thing. Most of them will take you all over the city for no more than R7 ($1), and they are always full. Don't ask about addresses though, nobody, not even the private and highly expensive taxis (R40-60 usually) seem to know addresses, just streets, districts, and landmarks.

I find the address I'm looking for of Dave Weisman Cycles, and it sure ain't here. I'm out of minutes on my phone, so I go buy R116 worth of airtime for R112, re charge my card, and call. They've moved into a mall, a couple blocks from the backpackers, so I walk the 2km's back and completely miss the shop. Another call and I backtrack. I pick up R1400 ($200) worth of parts to fix up this mountain bike that I've borrowed, pump, tools etc... so when I break down in the bush 400km from the nearest bike shop, I'll be alright, and head back to the guest house.

I'm now riding a Giant Yukon with a RST front shock, Shimano Acera 7 speed groupo, and a horrible wide saddle. I'm not sure why I didn't buy a new saddle when I was at the shop, but I regret it now. Oh well. If it's really bad, I'll get one later. I've got some treaded slicks on, and I'm hoping they will do well off road, but we'll see. At least I've got both brakes, a chain, and gears that work now that I've repaired it. I replaced the chain, brake cables, pads, tires, tubes, and grips, lubed and tuned it, and she's not too bad to ride. Not very fast, and my possible upcoming ride to Nkandla, which is 100km of steep hilly road, a large section of it un paved, with a backpack full of stuff on my back might prove to be a very uncomfortable one, but the bus can't pass in the rain, and I can't work with them from here.

It's about 2:00pm at this point and I decide to try my luck and find map studio before they close at 4. That proved to be a challenge. It's at least a 30 min drive up the coast, and a private taxi would cost me a total equal to my maps, for one way. So the guy at the backpackers told me to catch a mini bus taxi at the workstation, rather than the market. I convince a private taxi to take me there for half price, R20 ($3) and start asking mini bus taxi drivers all over. These mini busses are all local taxis, and just start pointing me around. I take a mini bus taxi to the market where I got dropped off entering Durban, and the driver takes, and shows me which taxi is going to Umhlanga or La Lucia, cause it's close to there. This driver was quite nice, but unfortunately it was one of those taxis with full blown sound systems, just this one was missing the bass. He had 8 or so tweeters strung around the ceiling, and a couple small midranges in the back, and he turned it up, always.

I pick up another taxi to head to La Lucia, and get off at La Lucia mall. It's 3:15, and all I know is I'm somewhere in the general area of this map store. I call a private taxi to take me the rest of the way, and they don't feel like coming to this area, and gave me another phone number to try. Screw that. I walked back and asked another mini bus taxi, about the address this time, and he actually knew where it was. He talked to some people, and told them to tell the driver to let me off at the square. The driver isn't going there I'm told, but he'll drop me off at the robot (traffic lights are called robots here, awesome) and I can walk. The taxi was full of women and the were talking and giggling the whole ride. At one point, one of them in the back said loudly in english so I could hear

"I wish I were taking him to the square"

They informed me that the driver would take me up there after he dropped everyone else off, and there I was, after a little trouble finding the entrance to the business park, at map studio. I walk inside, sit down, and the rain hits. It's pouring, and the lightning is starting. The lightning storms have been amazing recently. Huge bolts of lightning in the sky, and hitting the ground. Deep rolling thunder. Great.

I bought a topographic map of Nkandla and one of Eshowe so I had the whole route, and by this time the rain had stopped. I walk across the street, and in fifteen minutes, a bus comes that says city on the front and I get on. The driver says he's going to the market, and they carry change on the busses. It's R8.50 ($1.15). I spent R20 on private taxis, and R17 on three mini bus taxis to find this place, and 1 bus took me straight to a longish walk home. These maps rule, 1:50,000 scale wall size topographic maps of the bush! I'm stoked.

A leisurely morning, a couple of small errands including another stop at the bike shop cause I just couldn't stay away, and I'm ready to head back to Eshowe. I walk, backpack on, tires over my shoulder, and a tube in my hand to the market and start asking for a taxi to Eshowe. I'm in the wrong place. After quite a few conversations, I figure I need to get to Durban station, but a couple of these guys are practical enough, and say it's within walking distance if I want. Sounds goo. Third robot, take a left. I start hiking, and half way there a guy walks up to me, and starts talking. He's going on about his job at pic and pay, and how he wants to come to America of London, and get a job. He tells me he thinks I am the one he is going to negotiate with to better his life over seas. Not sure what that means, but I think he wanted me to help him find a job over seas. Sorry buddy, not what I do. I do internet here, and some aspects of computers, that's it.

He showed me all the way to the taxi, and wrote his phone number on my map tube. Luckily it was empty, cause I could stash my stuff before it filled up. This is not a form of transportation that caters to luggage carriers, but everyone uses it to go shopping. My bag went under the seat, and the tube, tires, all went behind the back seat. I might have worried about someone opening my bag or something during the ride, like would happen in asia, but these things are so packed, that you couldn't get to the floor to fuck with my bag if you tried.

I get back to the George and after dinner get to work on the bike. I'm working at night, out doors, with the bike hanging from the rafters by the seat, and a headlamp for light. The only tools I have are in the toepeak top tube strap on style tool box, and a hand pump. Music pumping from a cheap stereo I dug in, and I tell you, it feels good to have grimy hands again. I almost missed my fingers have a blackish tint to them.

posted: 10/16/07

Me an two other backpackers were taken out into the stick to a Zulu healing ceremony. These happen most sundays, and Zulu's from all over will travel to visit. They come and ask their ancestors about their problems, and the ancestors are supposed to give them answers. We washed our feet and entered the hut, which was crammed full of people.

The first half of the ceremony is lots of singing and dancing, then they pass out some food. Bannanas, apples, shots of smirnoff, beer, zulu beer, which is a milky white substance with an odd flavour, and grilled meat with bread. Once everyone is fed, they line up to tell there problems to the man-woman, and donate money. Paper money is pinned directly to her hat.

posted: 10/13/07

Wed. morning, 6:45. A local woman who works for the school disctrict who I happened across looking for maps, has decided to help me out and give me a ride to and from Richards Bay for me to get my rental car. She picks me up in her bucky (pickup) and off we go. She's never been to the airport in Richards Bay, but it's easy to find. I rent the car, grab a cheap burger and chips for breakfast, and I'm ready to head north to Kosi Bay, close to the mozambique border. The drive is extremely pleasant, and goes smoothly. It's about 270km to the John Wesley Kosi Bay Private school, and I have no trouble finding it.

The school is a clump of buildings set on a sandy fenced sandy lot. They've moved onto this lot about a year ago, picking up their old buildings and putting them down here, with the addition of a couple new buildings. Upon arrival, there were lots of kids staring at me, especially the young ones. My contact at the school is a cheery Afrikaaner, with a thick white beard, rosy cheeks, and a wonderful disposition. He shows me their computer lab, and then is off to teach his class, 7th grade math. Their lab consists of 10 Windows 98 computers set around the perimeter of a room. They have another machine in the hall for the teachers, and two new computers in the office for administration. We will be installing a full Wizzy lab, using their computers as thin clients, and putting in a new server.

The school has been fightin a constant problem in South Africa, their phone line goes down, sometimes for a month or two, because the phone lines get stolen, and the locals weave baskets out of it. The cell service in SA far exceeds the land lines.After school is let out, they load cricket equipment into their bucky, cram a bunch of kids on top of it, and head off to the field to play.

The house I am staying in is a huge structure with an A frame reed thatch roof that stands 7.3M tall. Most of the building in the middle is a living room, kitchen, dining room etc. all in an open room. Either end of the place has walls, open at the top, that section off the bedrooms. One end where I am staying is rented out as a bed and breakfast, the other end is where the owners stay. It was built by the Afrikaaner couple who stays here. A very nice couple, over dinner and in the evenings we had great conversation.

Thursday morning, I visited a technical college, Mthashan FET College. They have two computer labs, but no internet. In the afternoon I got the chance to watch the John Wesley kids cricket team play a match. Driving to the match, we turn off the main road into the bushes on a sandy track, and pop out on to a large flat open field of wild grasses. In heavy rains, this becomes a lake. The rest of the time, it's shared by cricket players, soccer players, walkers going wherever, cars, goats, grazing cattle, and trash, lots of trash. A couple thin sticks were nailed together to fashion soccer goals, and John Wesly carries the cricket equipment with them every time. They won their game, and the kids had a blast.

On friday, I head out to visit Nansindlela school, where we have installed a lab several years back. Once I get off of R22 and onto the road to Ingwavuma, just as I was warned about, the road becomes laiden with potholes. Big ones, deep too. I pass the turn off to Josini, and head into the hills. Deep rural. I pass Ingwavuma high school, and start to wonder if I've gone too far, when I start hearing a weird noise from the left side of my car. Flat tire. Great. The chance of me getting a flat changed any near hear is next to none, and being broken down on the side of the road in rural country here is especially dangerous. This is a land full of opportunists, who will take everything they can get, forcably if need be, especially when you are vulnerable. The tires not 100% flat, so I keep driving to see if I can find the school, and luckily about 100yard down the road and around the bend, I arrive. Whew. My contact their finds a couple 12 graders to change the flat for me while we chat about the computers.

The campus is lovely. An ex teacher was a botanist, and planted a lot of plants all throughout the buildings, built on the side of a hill. Way more beautiful than any school I've ever been to, outside that is. The classrooms are dirty, but well kept, and the whole place is covered in a red dust which is the soil around the area.

On my way back to Richards Bay, somewhere between the turn off to Josini, and Josini, I get stopped by a police trap. They are stopping all cars that pass through, and I can only guess what they are looking for, but I don't care. The cop looks at me with a smile, looks at my license with a foriegn look (it is a foriegn license after all) and I can see him giving up then on bugging me any more. He asks me some basic questions, I smile big and answer happily, and I'm on my way. My day is starting to look up. It's hot. I'm inland driving through the hills, and I'm hot. I get to Josini and fill up on petrol. At the station, while waiting for gas, kids keep coming up to me with rocks in their hands, with colored quartz exposed, tying to sell them for 5 Rand, or just beg money off of me for being white. Josini is a dirty, small, crowded trading town. It's probably a main supply hub for a large area around. I continue on. I was under the impression that my ride left Empangini around 4:30, and would come to Richards Bay to pick me up, and I'd call her when I was getting close. Around 4:15, as I'm getting close, I pick up my phone, and find out it's off. OOPS. She was gonna leave early and has been trying to get ahold of me for an hour. She's worked herself into a panic worrying that something bad has happened to me. I call her and work it out, and get an earful from her husband. Bad communication.

I'm back in Eshowe now, with the weekend to relax before a busy week. Those three days in the bush were exhausting, mostly the 7 hours driving in the heat on friday, with the stress of flat tires, bad roads, and mis-communicating with my ride.

10/13/07

Driving here has it's own set of rules. I've picked up on them quite quickly, cause otherwise I'd be run off the road. Most of the roads, and highways are one lane each direction, and always full of people walking. Most people in the bush walk, and it seems, no matter how rural you get, the people are spread throughout and walking. The roads are full of huge potholes, and they've even put a bunch signs on the road to make sure you know about them. The road is also shared with goats and cows as well. If you are driving, and someone pulls up behind you going faster, you are supposed to pull left onto the shoulder and let them pass. A two lane road will often become 3 or 4 cars wide. People regularly pull into you lane coming the wrong way, and start flashing their lights at you to get out of the way. Lot's of brights flasshing, and hazard flashing in thanks.

Driving on the left side of the road, I thought would be hard to get used to, but it wasn't. What is hard to get used to is shifting with my left hand, and looking left to look into my mirrors. The only thing that doesn't make sense to me, if your shifter is on the left, your right hand will be the hand on the steering wheel, so why do they leave the turn signal on the left? I don't need to control my wipers that often.

posted: 10/08/07

I went on a map hunt today. I have part of an old map from 2000 of the Nkandla Ward schools, where I will be doing a lot of work. I tracked down the ECAG (Eshowe Christian Action Group), and organization that works with rural school upliftment. They have a copy of the KwaZulu Natal school field guide. I spoke to a gentlemen there, who when I asked for the map book, got a blank piece of paper, took my list of schools, and started to draw a map. He was kind enough to let me borrow the map to make photo copies of the pages I wanted. He warned me that the maps I was copying could be quite inaccurate, by as much as maybe 25km. I should follow his map, cause that's exactly where the schools are.

He was kind enough to point out the closest town anywhere NEAR where I was going, cause if I run out of petrol, I'm on my own. At night it's as black as a cave, with no lights to be seen. Although they were too polite to say so, they were looking at me like I'm crazy for wanting to go out there alone. My confidence grew considerably after that.

I did however, this evening meet with the superintendent of the Nkandla Ward, and that was much nicer. He came down to the George hotel where I'm staying, and we went over the current project that I'm working on. He was very excited, and the meeting went well. I had previously been invited to view a couple schools in the Nkandla Ward with him by a member of Rotary International. All that was re-confirmed, and we set in motion more meetings with the principals in his ward to find out what schools are actually motivated and interested in the project. All said and done, the meeting went well, and he had one last thing to ask me. The battery on his car had gone to shit, and he needed a push to kick start his car. I walk with him to his car, and in the dark, cold, pouring rain, push his car backwards in the gravel parking lot, while he trys to kick start. He must be putting off fixing his electrical problems, cause he can kick start a car in reverse going slower than anyone I've ever seen. I'm thoroughly enjoying my Zulu Pale Ale now as I write this, warm and dry, inside listening to the rain which hasn't let up all day.

posted: 10/06/07

I traveled two days ago to meet the folks at Inkululeku Technologies. They are a group that has teamed up with the Shuttleworth foundation, and have installed Linux Thin-Client labs (They call their distribution the tux-lab) in about 116 schools in the western cape. Most of their schools don't have internet at the moment, and Andy is currently working on getting these schools up to speed with email and such.

Lavender School, in False Bay, has 3 computer labs. They have a Tux Lab, A Windows 2K lab. and a Windows XP lab. The W2K lab is offline, and just used for computer literacy training and math and sciences. The XP lab has ADSL, and the Tux lab uses that connection via a Wizzy I-Box. The school itself is set across the street from a huge complex of dilapidated block apartments. which were old labor homes during apartheid. These kids grow up in a rough environment. The staff at the school that I met were incredibly passionate and motivated to give these kids every opportunity they could.

The school was getting out early today. It was teacher appreciation day. Rogue students were wandering around after classes had finished and before the assembly. A couple time a small handful of kids would come in to talk to us. and frolic in the lab. Somewhere, one of them stole the locks that bolt the security door closed on the outside of the lab. No keys. just the locks. Bummer.

I also met a developer working on the one laptop per child project. These things are quite cool.