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!

Here's my saturday afternoon:

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.

These pieces of hardware are custom made, and include things like, wifi, usb. audio, picture, game controls. etc.. You can read their website to find out all the details, but these computers rock. They have a proprietary open source hardware and software setup that is unique in the computing world, but works well. The computer is based around your community, and is centered heavily as means of communication within that community. They will be available in the states next month. The deal is, when you buy one. you pay for two, and one goes to a child, the other one is yours.

posted: 10/04/07

The African Rock Hyrax looks like an oversized guinea pig. They have naturally curious faces, and although scared of you, has no problem staring you down.

As you can guess, in order to take these photos I had to be up in the rocks. I can tell I'm gonna find some amzing bouldering. Today was great, but my rock faces were facing the sea and have been worn slick to the smooth finish of a granite slab.

I stayed on the water side of the ridge today, and saw a family of Rock Hyraxes, a couple lizards, Starlings, Humming birds, Gulls, and others I haven't identified yet. I managed to capture a couple of them on film. Check the updated gallery here.

posted: 10/03/07

From Muizenberg, I walked straight up into the hills and hiked around Table Mountain National Park for several hours. This isn't Table Mountain itself, which is in Cape Town, but part of the park and the same range. The views were amazing as you can see below. The rest of the pics can be viewed in my photo gallery here. Most of the hike was surrounded by light, reddish green brush, intermixed with vibrant greens, reds, and purples. The wind was unbelievable. The wind was strong on the beach, and when I was standing on the peak taking the photos you see below, I had to anchor myself to a cement pole in the rocks, just to stay in place.

Once I got over the ridge, the wind died down, as it was all blowing overhead, and the rest of the hike was spectacular.

If I have time before I leave, I'm going to explore more of this park. I head out to KwaZulu Natal in 2 days. I think I'm ready for the bush.

posted: 10/01/07

The trains in Cape Town all in all are pretty good. I'm told not to ride them after dark, but I'm also told not to do most things after dark. Most times you ride the train close to the city, you will always have either a beggar or a preacher shouting, or singing his or her sonnets to the mostly uninterested people. This afternoon, I got to peek in on a bit of beggars code, probably unspoken, but I'm sure payed attention to.

On my return to Muizenberg from a meeting with a used computer resaler in Cape Town, a white guy, possibly of middle eastern decent, came on the train in a slightly tattered rip away Adidas jogging suit and a sweat shirt, holding a wooden staff the length of a tall cane. and a cardboard sign with bible anecdotes written on it. He began ranting about the corruption of the offices of immigration, and the hunger of the people who sleep outside he immigration building. About how refugees cannot afford the fees charged, and the corruption of the officials. A few stops down the line, in between stations, the door between cars opens, and in shuffles a boy in his late teens, with an oldish blind woman hanging on his arm. She is singing gospel? songs about Jesus in English, as he leads her through the car with a cup in his outstretched hand looking for donations. The first preacher of our car, upon noticing them, quietly sits down and waits, giving beggar priority to the blind woman. Once she has passed to the next car, he resumes his rant, and begins to ask for money.

It's not always beggars, sometimes it's just people trying to convert you to the word of the bible by telling you how useless your life is without becoming born again and giving yourself to Jesus. These people are intermixed with groups walking the cars with a box of chips, and a basket of candy and fingernail clippers. Why that combo? I don't know, but it seems to work cause they all have the same stuff.

posted: 09/30/07

The power of a word often comes from it's scarcity of use. If you hardly ever swear, and then suddenly scream FUCK, people around you will be shocked, and know that something is wrong. If your me, people just laugh. The more you throw a word around, the more de-sensitized we get, which in turn weakens the meaning.

Thank you is a meaningful expression. In U.S. English, we throw it around for everything, from someone opening a door for you, to taking your pregnant wife to the hospital. A trend I've noticed among the British, which I've recently been reminded of, is the separation between a remedial acknowledgment, and a sincere thanks. A thank you is generally more sincere, where as cheers, is used generally as a well meant recognition.

Making this distinction keeps from belittling thanks. Am I gonna stop saying thanks for the little things? Probably not, but I am more conscious of when I use it, and how much emphasis I want to go along with it.

Cheers

posted: 09/29/07

This is the first in a series of audio bits peering into moments of my life. A few musicians setup on the beach amongst kids frolicking, surfers surfing, and whales jumping.

Duration:   2:20

posted: 09/23/2007

Sunday morning. Up early in time to head to NY to run an errand and get on a plane. Get ready, set, hurry up and wait. A 3ish hour drive into the big apple, not so bad. Didn't hit any traffic, 30 minutes to get through the Holland tunnel doesn't count. A quick stop at B&H photo to pick up a camera lens and a couple of accessories. That place is amazing. It's the epitemy of retail mass production. Surprisingly we were able to get in and out, thru two departments with exactly what we need, in about 20 min. Swimming through masses of browsers, shoppers, standers, and people who just can't quite figure out what they're doing, past a thousand employees, and into the right line, to get shuffled through to place an order.

Paper ticket

Another line to pay.

Paper ticket

and finally, merchandise pick up, at the exit

Paper ticket magically turns into you goods

Oops, only got the camera junk, and forgot the audio cable. Back again, to talk to another human robot reading me the product info off their website, that I read at home before coming to the store.

Paper ticket

Overhead are conveyor belts shipping this crap all over the multi-story store, product elevators from the basement warehouse.

Paper ticket

and were done. In the line to product pickup, Larry and I were reminiscing on the production line quality of this retail store. You begin to feel exactly like a hamburger waiting for your condiments. If only the TSA were this efficient.

No traffic to the airport, I arrive a proper international flight 3 1/2 hours early, and walk directly to a half asleep, and quite bored airline ticket agent. I manage to convince her that my over stuffed (and certainly over 18 pounds) day pack is small enough to be a carry on, with a lot of joking about not having clothes (not mentioning the two laptops in my hand).

Hurry up and wait

Herded through TSA, unpacked, packed, shoe less, I wonder what they'd say if you just came to the airport with no shoes (it was posted that shoes are required in the airport). I filled up three trays this time in addition to my bag, got screened, wanded, waived, patted, and even complimented on how easy and efficient I was going through security. Now that's something you don't hear every day. I had to restrain myself from assuming the position before he asked, but I've been through this before, once, or twice, or twice a day for two years. Bend over and they'll let you through, except that one guy at fed court.

Hurry up and wait

3 hours in the terminal. I hop on the plane, get settled in, and off we go. In 7 1/2 hours we're gonna stop in Dakar to let some people off, re-fuel, then Jo-Berg. We start our decent into Dakar, "Fasten seat belts please, we are starting our final decent."

"This is the captain speaking, the weather in Dakar has turned sour, so we are going to head to our alternate location. Sol island. Sorry for the delay"

An hour to the island, we land, re-fuel, wait. Waiting for paperwork. An hour on the runway, back to Dakar. Another hour in the air, this time we land in Dakar, and the sky is clear, and the weather beautiful. Re-fuel again, wait for paperwork, another hour on the runway, why didn't we land here again? Weather? I don't know, that must of been one hell of a flash storm. It appeared AFTER we started our decent, and 3 hours later, there was no sign of bad weather what so ever. Hmm. I'm glad companies are always bound to tell their customers the truth. We fly into Jo-Berg around 8, and are told we are on the 9 o'clock flight to Cape Town.

Hurry up, get to the gate

Stand in line at check in to get a new boarding pass, oh what's that, I'm NOT on the 9 o'clock? I'm now on priority stand by? Whatever. The old folks tour group is booked on the 9 o'clock.

Get to the gate

At this point I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna let Andy know that I've landed in Jo-Berg, at about the same time he's in the Cape Town airport looking for me. Let's see, pay phone, great, now I need change, let's get some money, buy something, get some change and call Andy. What's this? they've changed the departure gate again, and are now boarding? Crap, sorry Andy, no more time, I'll call you when I get to Cape Town, if I can. The airlines are great at telling you exactly what they want you to do and what's going on. That is if nothing works for you. I stand in the boarding line, not knowing if I've got a seat, and manage to get on the plane. I wonder how many people from the flight had to stay over night. I arrive in Cape Town around midnight, on the last flight to land in the Cape until tomorrow. Ok, money, change, pay phone, Andy. No currency exchange (or anything else) is open, so I grab some cash from an ATM and wander around trying to figure out how to change bills into coins to make a call. The last stand open in the airport is kind enough to let me call Andy, and he comes and picks me up. I've missed the jazz club that we were supposed to go to, where Andy was when I called him, so we head back to his friends house for a drink.

posted: 09/22/2007

"Mt. Kenya is a shard of rock thrust upward from the earth, but Kilima Njaro, the White Mountain, has ascended into the sky, a place of religious resonance for tribes all around its horizons.

The glacer glistens.  A distant snow peak scours the mind, but a snow peak in the tropics draws the heart to a fine shimmering painful point of joy"

- Peter Matthiessen

posted: 09/20/2007

I'm up to speed on all the technical details of Wizzy. I've been learning a bunch of Linux command line tech babble to make sure when I run into a bunch of computers that don't work, which is inevitable, I might know what to do.

Now I'm onto getting started on what I'm really going to be doing most of, which is talking. It's a good thing I like to blab my mouth, cause that's really my job in South Africa. I will be essentially an organizer. I'll be working with schools who want internet, the organizations that help these schools, used computer resalers, and anyone I can find that might be interested in hearing me ramble. So, I'm heading to areas with no internet connection, and relying on email to do my work. Let's go.

I will also be attempting to document this whole process. This blog is a running personal commentary and intended for reading by my friends, peers, relatives, and anyone who is interested in the personal side of my trip. I can't promise all of the media or content that I will be capturing, if I could, it would be a planned production, and not true documentation. I'm hoping to capture, edit, and publish series of still photographs, audio recordings, video recordings, and stories. I intend on creating many web pages to host this content, video presentations for online, and offline publishing, and well, I don't know what else. Whatever it is, if it's online I will be posting a link here, and if not, I'm sure I'll talk about it here, and it will be available.

I leave on sunday september 23rd. In the coming two days, I'm cramming in the last of the contacts, names, email addresses, advice, and what not's, packing my backpack, and shipping out. This will be my last post from the U.S. Next stop... Cape Town!!

posted: 09/19/07

Ahh yes, training. I've got ten days in Pennsylvania to figure out everything there is to know about Wizzy Digital. Wizzy Digital is a grass roots organization that is focused on bringing internet to people who don't have it.  Wizzy, more specifically, is a software, that allows cost controlled access to the internet, as well as internet in places with no physical connection to the net.  It does this is several ways.

One is cost controlled internet access. Wizzy allows you to surf the web and email while off line, and to choose the hours that you are actually on line to do your web traffic. Per se, at night when the phone line per minute charges are low (as with most places in the world) you can have the Wizzy I-Box (your internet server) dial up and do all of your internet traffic; sending and receiving emails, downloading whole website for surfing off line, etc... and the I-Box will automatically disconnect before the rates go up. During the day, while you're at your computer, you can surf the websites you requested, and do your emails like normal. One thing that Wizzy has done that is unique to Wizzy alone, is Wizzy Courier. This allows internet traffic (email, websites, etc..) to be physically carried via a USB stick (or any other media) to places with no connection. One school with dial-up or dsl can now host a whole bunch of schools in the area.

Wizzy also incorporates thin-client technology, where you have one central application server running everything, and a bunch of cheap crappy old computers (clients) that connect to the central server and run off of it. This type of lab is ideal for a lot of reason which I won't go into, but mainly for cost reasons. You only need one nice computer, and many cheap crappy computers to make a full lab. Let's say you wanted to hook a classroom up with a computer lab with a computer for every student. With a Windows (thick client) lab, every computer has it's own operating system, sets of software, storage, memory, etc. This means every computer has to be at least decent, with it's own costly software license, AND, all of your information is stored locally. (aka you have to sit at the same computer each time). With a thin-client lab, only one computer needs to be powerful, all of your data (and applications) are stored centrally (doesn't matter what computer you're at) which greatly reduces the cost of the lab since all computers (except the server) can be cheap, old, used, donated, or scrounged together and will work like a new computer. This can make the cost of a thin-client lab one tenth (or less) of a thick-client lab. For more info on this check out here. I am providing an overview here of Wizzy so you have an idea of what I'm working with, but my explanations are very light, and not exact. The Wizzy website is a much better place for any of you who are actually interested.

Anyway, back to what I'm up to.  In order to learn the software which I hopefully will soon be installing in schools in South Africa, I have taken over the downstairs of the barn with a ton of old computers, and have set up a bunch of labs that reproduce all of the different type of situations that I might come across in South Africa. This is a slightly daunting task, and I'm finding along the way all of the nuances of the software, and of old used computers. I'm steadily busy most of the day and night staring at 6 different computer monitors keeping tracks of a handfull of different fake schools. It's kinda fun, kinda frustrating, a lot of work, but worth it in the end, just like learning anything new.
Until next time...

posted: 09/18/07

Well, I'm off. Into the human herd lines of the TSA, molested by x-rays, metal detectors, swabs, pat downs, and redundant reminders of 3 oz bottles in 1 quart bags. $5 for intermittent tv signals, $8 for movies, but no real money is accepted, electronic plastic only please.

"due to normal airplane movement, signal is temporarily unavailable"

Sir, fasten your seat belt please. Please, sir, please. Mister... your seat belt? Thank you. Important safety regulations require only one person can wait for the latrine at a time. Two people having to pee is a security risk. Once actually inside the lavatory, a tiny box barely big enough for my skinny ass to turn around in, you are confronted with multiple signs (in addition to the 2 lights per row of seats) reminding you that smoking is prohibited aboard all aircraft... so why, next to the sign, is there and ash tray?

To my right, 22 swipes of the credit card the wrong way before the flight attendant crowds in to make sure your money will be taken in full.
"due to normal airplane movement, signal is temporarily unavailable" Four separate applications of make up, a horrible highlights job, and a make up bag half the size of my luggage for 8 months. My new best friend for two hours is one of 6,000 magazine powered robots from starbucks corporate headquarters. Thanks starfucks for making sure I can always get a mediocre cup of coffee everywhere I go.

Quick and dirty. That's the flying way. Pack 'em in, ship 'em on their way. Flying has robbed traveling of it's adventure, like domesticating an animal. People are herded into their aluminum tube shaped pen, then hurled through space completely destroying all appreciation for what's in between you and your destination. Alright, alright, there are times where just being somewhere is the goal, and flying is on point, but it sure lacks the sense of freedom of most other forms of travel.

Ahh, freedom. Sweet sweet freedom, it seems like it would be great, judging from the small glimpses of it we get from time to time. It seems there is a dissolution that freedom means life is easy, and stable, and safe. These things aren't free, they're controlled. The natural freedom we talk about attaining is nothing near the concept of freedom we practice. If we must reduce and control our freedom to keep us free, are we really free?

Manhattan is truly beautiful to fly into at night. Lit up bridges and an abundance of buildings and movement all scurrying around. Most of flying is the same view out of a window so tiny you can barely see the clouds on the other side of it, but sometimes you get these absolutely unique views that you could get no other way, and well they are just spectacular. Some day I'll fly around and take a bunch of aerial photographs, you know when I'm stinking rich and have nothing better to do. That is someday maybe when I have a job that pays me again.

So, can you tell I don't like to fly? All in all, it's usually worth it, but not pleasant. I suppose it's not just flying I don't like, any mass public long distance travel kinda bugs me, cramped buses for example. It's nothing like being on a bike tour, or traveling by motorcycle. It is however a cheap, quick, easy way to get where you are going, and there is a lot to be said for that.
Till next time........

posted: 09/17/2007

Packing is a bitch. You basically are guessing about everything you are going to be doing for the next however long, then trying to figure out what you actually need to do it. Then you have to consider what luxuries you want, vs. what crap you can do with out that you don't want to carry. The less you carry, the happier you'll be traveling, but the less comfortable. These days, flying, you have to consider the massive list of items you may want (like a razor or pocket knife, or toothpaste) that you can't bring on the airplanes.

I broke down and put a quick link in my bracelet, so if TSA decides to hassle me like fed court used to, I could at least be able to take it off with some tools, but gladly they didn't give me trouble. Going through security with all my electronics is a pain though. I filled two bins with my stuff, on top of my bag. Fortunately they didn't want to check my bag, cause it took me 20 min. to pack it.