So first things first, in South Africa, the people in the pictures below are the people I made friends with. Anyways, honestly Johannesburg was my favorite place to visit so far. People told me that when I visit South Africa, I should visit Cape Town; Johannesburg (Joburg) really impressed me so I can't wait to visit Cape Town. Anyways, my trip to South Africa started out with all kinds of adventure. I rode a plane from Kenya to Addis Ababa (Ethiopia) to Joburg. The flight from Kenya left at 3 in the morning; if you haven't flown at 3am in the morning you don't truly know the meaning of a red eye. Anyways, I'm notorious for falling asleep in any moving vehicle, so the flight put me to sleep better than Lunesta ever would; I might have even seen that fluorescent green butterfly. I only woke up to a guy tapping my shoulder telling me to get up.
As I walked through the Addis Ababa airport, I wasn't quite sure if I was dreaming. At six in the morning, the sun created a pink glow against the tiles, and I could have sworn I saw the unknown pokemon (for those unfamiliar with pokemon, the unknown are a hieroglyphic pokemon, and a pokemon is a creature that you must catch). Upon further inspection, I realized that the unknown were actually the Ethiopian alphabet. If I ever make it back to Ethiopia I would just want to learn the letters. Unfortunately, as soon I realized I wasn't dreaming, my body shut down, and I fell asleep on a bench next to my gate to Joburg.
I next woke up to shuffling and people lining up at my gate. I often wake up at random hours and wonder what time it is and where I am. Following the herd, I lined up at my gate. A chipper guy, about 25, tapped me on the shoulder. He introduced himself as Herman. He was lean, pretty fashionable, had glasses and a curly mohawk. We started talking about life, and talked about some pretty interesting conversations. He told me he lived in Pretoria, told me about his faith, told me about his business, and his recent trip to China. I told him about my trip and why I was doing it. About an hour or so passed and we boarded the plane. While flying we talked some more, exchanged contact information, and agreed to meet after we got off the plane.
When the plane to Joburg was about to land, I got a tap on my shoulder. My neighbor, a jolly Indian man with a radiant smile, handed me a note. "Please Help. I don't know English. My name is Pretesh. Please take me to the nearest Indian embassy." I looked up and saw him grinning nervously, a right incisor missing. Taken over with a sense of duty and brotherhood for this man I just met, I grinned back and flipped him a thumbs up sign; however, I didn't catch that he needed a wheelchair, and when he made it up to the flight attendants to ask for one, they relieved me of my duties. Sadden by my loss, partially because I was genuinely worried and pitied the man, and partially because I wanted to feel a sense of heroism, I trudged ahead to meet up with Herman.
Herman and I started making plans to hang out in Pretoria. He had a place there and he had plenty of girl friends, and the knowledge of reputable clubs. Sadly, our conversation got cut short seeing that the South African customs did not play games, and he had come back with "too many souvenirs" from China. Actually, that is part of the reason why I'm sending post cards, though I forgot to buy some in South Africa. Customs doesn't like people bringing in stuff into their respective countries and nobody want to declare things. Again, I grudgingly trudged ahead to rip off a taxi driver who thought he could rip off the American.
As I drove out of the airport, I immediately noticed the lack of trash along the road, much different from Nairobi. I noticed the technology of the stop lights, they called them robots, that were essentially a timed spike trap. I noticed that I wasn't gripping my seat; I don't usually grip my seat, and, even in Nairobi, I rarely gripped the seat, but some cars, especially taxis, in developing worlds have a unique way of finding roads in the gravel on the sides of the roads, between two incoming cars, in the opposite lane, and pretty much anywhere else they can fit the car; in Joburg, my taxi put on the blinker and changed lanes. I noticed the lack of honking usually accompanied with aforementioned crazy taxis. I also noticed the lack of a particular aroma, the sewage aroma, mixed with perfumes, spices, foods, and car exhaust. But most importantly, I noticed my stench of three days without a shower in humid Africa (kenya was in the midst of a drought). Fortunately, when we arrived to Yeoville, the hood as Herman called it, though definitely not as strong as nairobi, the aroma returned. Unfortunately, it did not ease my discomfort.
Yeoville is a wonderful place. Before apartheid ended, it was a Jewish settlement. After apartheid ended, most of the whites moved out because they were too nervous. Though it may be considered the hood, it could also be considered a hub for culture. Nigerians, Ghanaians, Zimbabweans, Jamaicans, etc all lived there. The food was delicious. But because it was the hood I couldn't take out my expensive camera. Sorry! I stayed in a place called 2B Happy Backpackers lodge. The people there all accepted me like family. It was amazing. I wanted to take a shower, but I met a guys named Sam and Nixon. Sam taught me how to cook Zimbabwean food. My favorite was their staple food, pop (pronounced pup), known as ugali in Kenya. Sam also took me to his in-laws house to meet his family and watch music videos. On the second night, we went to his flat, and he cooked cow intestines... not the most appetizing meal, but i still ate some of it. So instead I had ox.
Speaking of meats, I didn't get to try bush meat in South Africa either because it was illegal. Part 2 Coming soon.
