A Grown-Up Christmas

I was going to become an adult this Christmas.

I was going to buy and hang Christmas lights on the outside of my house.

I purchased a $10 box of icicle lights from Walgreens three weeks ago, and since then there has not been one day when I have been home when it was still light out, and not not one night when I have been home when it wasn't raining. (No offense, Seattle. I still love you.)

Finally this afternoon, my home teachers came over with a ladder. It was too short. Knowing that there are no exterior plugs around the house, I had previously purchased a little socket thing that screws into the flood light. It did not conduct electricity at all. I am leaving to go home in two days anyway, so I gave up my three-week battle, thanked my home teachers, and cursed the Grinch for trying to keep Christmas from coming to my little house.

The bigger disappointment is that I did not get to claim this rite of passage. There have been many moments in the past decade when I have thought, "Ah Ha! Now I am an adult!" For example, I had that thought the first time I:

• Drove a 15-passenger van full of teenage girls
• Bought a toaster oven
• Filled out my own tax return form
• Drove a drunken undergrad to the ER 
• Used my ID to get into a club
• Received a Christmas card that was addressed just to me
• Signed a lease
• Bought lingerie for a friend's bridal shower

While those activities did make me feel very grown up, this Christmas light endeavor was particularly exciting to me. For the first time, I have a sense that where I live is (semi-) permanent and I want to invest in it. That seems very adult. So does wanting to contribute to the overall aesthetic of my neighborhood.

There is also something that feels very "old" in taking over a tradition that used to belong exclusively to my parents; my dad has always put up the exterior lights for our family. Overall it feels grown-up to try to create Christmas where I live and not just wait to experience Christmas until I go home to my parents' collection of music, decorations and lights. Like an adult, I am trying to own Christmas in my current home.

It looks like I will have to wait until next year to work out all the kinks so that I can finally hang up my exterior lights. Then I will be able to say, "Ah Ha! Now I am an adult!" one more time.

Comedic Timing?

I unintentionally made an entire movie theater laugh last weekend.

I was at the movie Red. We were all engrossed in its tranquil opening scenes when out of no where the bad guys appeared on screen, and I gasped out loud.

Really loudly. In fact, it may have been more like a combination yelp/scream.

At first when people started to laugh, I thought that I had missed something funny in the split second that I had yelped and closed my eyes. But when I asked my date why everyone was laughing, he said:

"They're laughing at you!"

Oops. At least this time I did not leave the theater with a bruised elbow. That happened in another movie when bad guys startled me, and I banged my funny bone on the plastic cup holder.

I blame my jumpiness on my younger brothers, who spent our growing-up years hiding behind doors and in hallways waiting to spring on me.

They would also laugh at my tormented reaction, but then they would get pummeled.

I almost pummeled my roommate the other day when I screamed like a baby when she walked through the front door. I was engrossed in the mail, and she was wearing a hood. I don't think she thought it was very funny.

But no one got pummeled at the movie theater, and I was happy to offer the afternoon-movie-goers some additional entertainment.

(N.B. Please excuse the sheep costume in the picture. It was the closest thing I had to a surprised/shocked/startled shot.)

It's All So Magical

I used to dislike Halloween.

It enables the proliferation of 3 things I do not like: stereotyping of large groups of marginalized people, the sexualization of women, and gore. Plus coming up with a costume that is unique enough, cute enough and modest enough is stressful.

However, my Halloween-loving roommates have completely changed my view of this holiday. Their ghoul parties, witch parties and dance parties have made this a season of whimsy and magic. Their creativity makes Halloween feel more enchanted than frustrating.

Because of the many festivities, for each of the past two years, I have had to have three costumes. It's been a blast, and my roommates' large supply of costumes, craft skills and make-up artistry have significantly decreased all costume-related stress.

2009
(From left to right)
70's lady in a 70's dress - My friend Laney and I wore matching wigs to the dance party
Ghoul - A group of friends gathered for a "spooky dinner"
Disco Dancer - Yep, same wig but different dress for another party

2010
(From left to right)
Sheep - I was one of seven sheep and and the cotton gluing took hours and then littered the dance floor
A "Tea Party" - As in the political movement. Ha!
Witch - 30 of us gathered for "spooky food" then a witches' stroll through a local bookstore

Many more pictures of things such as the "flock of sheep" and a "close-up of the witch's moles" can be found on facebook.

Sharing the Love

Today is my grandma's 87th birthday. She passed away about four months ago, on the day that I left for South Africa. The last time that I spoke to her was from a payphone in the Atlanta airport. She could not speak, but my dad, who was with her at the time, said that she responded to my voice. She died just a few hours after my plane took off.

My dad feels strongly that her final act of love for me was waiting to die until I was too far away to come back; if she had died before I had left the States, I probably would have delayed or canceled the trip to attend her funeral. Grandma also loved to travel, and I know that she was thrilled that I got to fulfill my dream to go to the World Cup.

I love rituals and believe that they are such an important part of the healing process, so missing the funeral was hard for me. I wanted to able to mourn with my family and to celebrate her life with them. Even though everyone was extremely supportive, not being there felt more like an act of betrayal to my living family than to her.

What I wasn't able to say then, I want to say now, to commemorate her birthday. Grandma and I were kindred spirits. We are both tall. Both of us love to read and travel. She did not marry until she was 30. Both of us are women with opinions. But when I think about what has really connected us it is that we love and get excited about so many of the same things. So much of what I love in life is because of her: she shared her passions with me until they became my own.

The things on this list of shared loves include everything from Highway 1 to Barbara Streisand to tree-picked oranges to Julia Child to camping on the beach to Diet Dr. Pepper to cut roses in a glass bowl. Here are some of the most significant things that I love because Grandma Bea loved them first:

Nordstrom. This was her favorite department store, and most of the gifts she gave me were from there. She loved taking me there to pick out a "special something." Nordstrom was emblematic of her appreciation for refinement and elegance. She did not have a large quantity of wealth or material possessions, but what she did have was always lovely. Everything from her collection of 1950's hats to the pitcher (no jug) of milk on the kitchen table was classy.

Christmas Eve. Bea was born in the United States but is 100% full-blooded Norwegian, and for Norwegians, Christmas Eve is probably the most important nights of the year. On that night, she always ensured that the table was perfectly set, that the traditional foods - spare ribs, baked potatoes, sukor - were prepared, and that we were all dressed in Sunday best. It has always been a sacred evening for our family that everyone anticipates every year.

Family History. Grandma was a key link in the generations of Jacobsens. She felt a special mandate to preserve the family legacy as well as to keep in touch with her many nieces and nephews. Grandma adored her parents and 5 siblings, and she helped all of us to develop a great love for them through her stories and family artifacts. A favorite of mine was a signed letter from the King of Norway thanking her mother for the dramatic recitation she performed for him. I loved hearing her talk about the times her family spent at the Grand Tetons in Jackson Hole - the place that reminded them the most of Norway, and the location of our most recent family reunion.

Classical Music. Bea's father and older brother were both violinists; it was violin music that actually brought her family into the Mormon church in Norway. She was thrilled when I started playing the violin at age 7, and when I was 16 she gave me her Lladro porcelain statue of a little girl playing the violin. Her home was always full of great opera or classical music, and I loved hearing her sigh of contentment and nostalgia when was listened to her favorite pieces.

I miss having Grandma around to cheer and support me: she always made it clear that she was a huge Jen fan, as she was of all her grand kids. But I know that having so much around me of what we both love will keep us close.

Letters, In Brief, From the Past Few Months

Dear Cheerios,
When I eat you with fresh peaches, I am perfectly content.

Dear Public Radio,
I apologize for not giving this year during the fall pledge drive. I am trying to furnish my new place, and I thought you would understand.

Dear mattress,
You smell like mildew. Gross.

Dear dryer,
I can't believe you melted my mattress pad!

Dear Ikea,
Every time I go into your store, I wish I was living that scene from the movie 500 Days of Summer.

Dear Beyonce,
I hope it pleases you to know that the very first song I listened to once I got a new car stereo installed - after two long months of absolute silence - was If I Were A Boy. I blasted it and I sang and I was happy.

Dear Mark Zuckerburg,
Even though it's hard to like you after seeing The Social Network, I think you would make a great therapy client. Together we could discover the roots of your douchiness. Please let me know if you are interested - it would be an honor.

Dear Elder Uchtdorf,
Thank you for telling me to stop being so busy. I feel relieved and more relaxed, and I love having free evenings.

Dear Supreme Court,
Thank you for making our elections even less democratic. Every time I hear a story like this and am reminded of your Citizens United decision, I want to punch you in the face - collectively.

Dear President Obama,
I am so excited that you are coming to the University of Washington, but could you please reschedule the rally so that it is in the evening and not during the work day?!

Dear Seattle Sounders FC,
Thank you for scoring that third goal and ensuring us all free haircuts.

Dear high school students,
The sounds of your ukuleles as you walk up and down the halls between class periods is bizarre, yet strangely soothing.

Dear running,
I am sorry that I hated you for so long. I realize now that I was not giving you a fair shot with all that intermingled walking. Your endorphins are really quite wonderful.

Dear Tacoma Narrows Bridge,
You thought you were sneaky, but I finally found your toll and avoided your $55 ticket. Ha! Third time's the charm.

South Africa Changed Me

I floss my teeth now.

It is not because South Africans have particularly good or bad dental hygiene practices.

It is because while I was there, I realized that I put a lot of effort into doing big things. I go to the World Cup in Africa! Direct Girls Camp! Bike down the Pacific Coast!

But I am not as good at the small routine things of everyday life, like flossing. I want to do better at the parts of living that are not big and showy. I want to learn how to get out of my bed without pushing snooze three times. I want to write letters to my missionary brother more frequently. I want to do laundry before there are no underwear left in my drawer.

Traveling (partly) alone in a foreign country could seem like a foreboding challenge. For me, committing to a routine of small tasks - like teeth flossing - is way more scary. I have always associated routine with entrapment and boredom; it is as if I've been anticipating a mid-life crisis since I was 14 years old.

However, last week, I started a full-time job as a clinical therapist. For the first time in my 29 years, I will not be on an academic schedule. I will work 9 to 5, five days a week and have three weeks of vacation.

Before my trip, the thought of this impending schedule caused me great anxiety. But I am trying to embrace it. I am ready to commit to regularity. I am ready to floss daily.

I know I can do big and spontaneous. Now I want to do know that I can do - and hopefully enjoy - small and routine too.

South African Homes

While some of my best interactions with Mozambicans were on the streets, my best encounters with South Africans were in their homes. I got to do three different home stays, including two in all-black townships. All my hosts were very generous and attentive, and I was excited to talk to them about South African history and to hear their thoughts on "The New South Africa." Here are the homes and the people I met, in reverse chronological order:
SOWETO, outside of Johannesburg

Host: A grandma named Makeke and her 2-year-old grand-nephew
Connection: A locally run tour group arranges stays with her in an effort to get people into the township. I stayed with her my very last night in South Africa, my one night between Mozambique and going home. (The second picture is not Makeke's home, but it is a home in the neighborhood.)
Best moment: After dinner, Makeke and I sat under a blanket together and watched South African soap operas. The actors switched seamlessly between English and various African languages.
Food: Fried chicken, french fries and a special veggie sauce for dinner. Fried eggs, avocado and toast for breakfast.
Interesting fact: Makeke was born and raised in the culturally and racially diverse town of Sophiatown until its destruction by the Apartheid government. Her family was forcefully removed into the all black township of Soweto in 1955.
What I learned: Soweto has a population of approximately 1.5 million. It was at the heart of the anti-Apartheid movement. It was also where one of my favorite movies, Tsotsi, was filmed, and I got to walk around the "set."


LANGA, outside of Cape Town

Host: Ma Neo (far right in picture)
Connection: The local tour company that took me through the township dropped me off at her house. It is where I spent my first night after Seth left.
Best moment: Her 19-year-old grandson took me out into the neighborhood after dark to go mix some tunes with his DJ friend. When we got there, the DJ and a handful of other guys were cramped up in a smoke-filled room watching the animated movie Ice Age, so we left.
Food: I was pleasantly surprised when Ma Neo (far right) and her daughter (middle) sat and ate dinner with me. We had chicken and pap, a mashed potato-like substance made from maize. They also ate breakfast with me.
Interesting fact: Ma Neo is a retired nurse, and now she takes care of people in her community with HIV/AIDS, like the woman in the far left of this picture who comes over for food every day
What I learned: People are welcoming and grateful to white people who want to see and understand township life, but they wish that whites from their own country - not just foreign tourists - would come too.

DURBAN

Host: 25-year-old Nicole and her mom, dad and brother, Rowan
Connection: One of my best friends met one of Nicole's best friends in the Netherlands, and they put us in contact. Seth and I stayed with them for three nights, and Nicole took us all over the town.
Best moment: Seth, Nicole, Rowan and I spent an entire Sunday night playing an intense game of Risk. I was the first out; I blame my disdain for colonialism.
Food: Nicole took us to eat "bunny chow," a local Indian specialty that is a loaf of bread full of curry. Her mom made us many other delicious meals with tender South African meat.
Interesting fact: The D'Almaines have been "burgled" (burglarized) four times, twice while they were in the house. They have a fence and three dogs.
What I learned: Things are difficult for White South Africans now. They feel less safe, it is harder to get jobs because of affirmative action, they feel that the police are corrupt and that health care is worse. They have very little hope in government. But they flew their flag for the World Cup.

Portraits of Mozambique

Some of the best moments of my trip so far were seeing peoples' surprise and excitement when I handed them pictures of themselves. I have felt conflicted about taking and sharing pictures of random people because I think that it can be objectifying - it turns people into tourist attractions, into sites.

On the other hand, talking with random people on the street is my favorite thing about traveling. I think that it is one of the most authentic ways to experience a place and a culture. I want pictures to capture some of those moments and personalities.

For the last five days that I have been Maputo, Mozambique, whenever I have taken pictures of people, I have told them - when I thought it was possible - that I would bring them a copy of the picture. I don't think that they believed me because they were shocked when I showed up today with the prints. It was so fun.

It has been easier chatting it up with strangers here than in South Africa because I feel less self-conscious being White. Mozambique does not have the same recent history of racial oppression. While the Portuguese were brutal colonial rulers, they all left over night in 1975 when Mozambique declared its independence.

Being able to speak the language of the people has also helped me to connect. I have been so happy speaking Portuguese! The accent here is really different than in Brazil, so I often have to ask people to repeat themselves, but those glorious Portuguese words are the same.

This is Dona Teresa. She has worked at the Central Market selling prawns and sardines most of her life. She said that she is going to give this picture of herself to her grandchildren.


This is Dona Mikaela. She has worked next to Dona Teresa for more than 20 years.

This is Joao. He is 28-years-old and sells shoes and phone calls on the main street in town. His friends went into hysterics when he struck this pose. When I came back with the picture, they were all jostling to look at it.

When this woman saw me taking a picture of Joao, she said that she wanted one too, and she struck a pose for me right there in the middle of the sidewalk. The guys who work on the sidewalk in that area said that they do not know her name, but they always see her walking by and they promised to give her the picture.

This is Dona Christina. She and all of her five grown children help her sell fruits and vegetables at the market. I bought a pinha from her, which is a pine fruit that I used to eat in Brazil.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to give these boys their picture because I met them on a day-trip to an island that is about two hours from Maputo. When I saw them sitting around, I walked up to them and asked them what they were doing. They said they had just finished playing soccer. I told them I was a teacher, and I started quizzing them on their multiplication facts. I had a bag of cookies in my bag, and I gave a cookie to whoever shouted out the correct answer first. The kid in the front in the plaid shirt got so many cookies that I had to encourage him to share his winnings with others.

This is Vicky. I met her at church on Sunday, and then we spent the entire afternoon together. She is 23, has been a member of the church for three years and is getting ready to go on a mission. Her father was a member of the FRELIMO party during the civil war and was assassinated in his car a few months before she was born. A few years ago, her mom died of cancer, and Vicky now lives with her three older siblings. She works as a telephone operator and goes to school to study business. She is smart and feisty, and we had an amazing day together talking about boys, our faith and our plans for the future. She is on facebook, so we will be sharing pictures that way.

The White man in this picture is an Englishman named Jerry, and these are his English students (from left to right): Maria, Tome, Isabel and Junalsa. I received Jerry's contact info from a friend of a friend, and he took me with him to his class this morning which is in a township-like/favella-like/slum-like neighborhood called Mafalala. Through a program in their community, Maria and Junalsa are training to be Mafalala tour guides. After English class, they took me around the narrow streets and corrugated houses of the town. Jerry, the teacher, lives really close to my hostel, so tonight I gave copies of the pictures to him to pass onto the students.

This is Jane, Jerry's wife. She is also English, and the two of them have lived in Maputo for fours years and have no intention of leaving. Jane gives architectural tours of the city and spent the entire afternoon showing me the abundant Art Deco designs as well as buildings by the quirky and prolific Portuguese architect Pancho Guedes. She is spry, curious and bold, and would make her way into buildings with only limited Portuguese and a smile. She is working with the city on an architectural preservation project. Before the tour, the city felt dirty and slightly decrepit to me - the sidewalks are in pieces, many buildings are burnt-out - but she helped me see the structural beauty that exists.

A Conversion Story

My cabin and my Colombian cabin-mate.
He gave me the best allergy drugs!

Our trail protection: rangers and guns

Trekking through the bush on the animal look-out.

Just stumbled across some wild buffalo. No big deal.

Water hole, hippos and sunset

Hello Mr. Rhino!

The vehicle that got us 60 km out to our camp.

Oh, hey!

Flora instruction

On a scale from 0 to 10, zero being "Animals are as boring as a monotone lecture" and 10 being "I want to be the next Jane Goodall," before this trip, I was a 3. I have always been way more intrigued by the human experience: the emotions, the relationships, the art. I would pick a museum over a zoo, a book over a pet.

But after four days in Kruger National Park, my scale rating is now a 6, maybe a 7. The change was almost instantaneous: within 20 minutes of entry into the park, I had already seen zebra, elephants and giraffes just hanging out on the side of the road. It was completely natural! Organic! Un-artificial! There was no human intervention to put on a good show, and Kruger is about the size of a small country.

In Kruger, you can't get out of your car or safari vehicle unless you are on a ranger-led walking tour sponsored by the park. I went on this three-day "Wilderness Trail" with seven other people: an English couple, a South African couple, an Australian father and son, and a Colombian dude. We spent three nights in rustic cabins in the middle of the bush. All the food, bedding and hiking supplies were provided; we even had our own cook.

I did not reveal to anyone in my group my semi-disinterest in animals. However, I suspect they picked up on it when I had to keep asking, "What was that we just saw again? A buffalo or a rhino? And which one was the wildebeest? And are there bison here?" I did however try to talk to them a lot about international politics so that they would not think that I was a completely idiotic American. Furthermore, I made a conscious effort not to spontaneously burst into songs from The Lion King although it was tempting - especially when we saw warthog!

For our first sunset, we sat at the edge of a huge watering hole that was full of giant hippos and crocociles. Around the water's edge were baboons, Egyptian geese (so I was told) and giraffes. There we all were, sharing different sections of the same waterfront. The only thing separating us from the animals was our rangers' guns. As we shared the sacred spaced and watched the sunset, people sipped beers and wine, or in my case, the most delicious grapefruit juice in the world.

Earlier that morning, on our first walk, we came within a few yards of elephants and rhinos and bison. The walks were thrilling because after long quiet stretches of empty land, we were suddenly face-to-face with a herd of wild animals. The ranger would take a strategic stance between us and the animals and then motion for us to silently file past. Even when we walked for long stretches without seeing any animals, it was thrilling to just be in their space: to step through their poo, to see where they had rolled around in the mud and where they had rubbed up against a tree.

One night as we sat around the campfire, we heard lions roaring from three different directions. Then our rangers told us stories about Mozambicans who were trying to cross the border and became lion meat. When we were driving out of the camp site this morning, we saw two lions sleeping on the side of the road.

My favorite animals were the graceful giraffe, the brightly colored birds and the amusing warthogs. Generally, animals strike me now as whimsical and entertaining. They are also so varied and random - the round body of an ostrich, the unique stripe pattern on zebra, the grace of a herd of running kudu.

Altogether on this trip I have seen: leopard, lion, python, zebra, elephant, wildebeest, penguin, shark, whale, seal, ostrich, water buffalo, heron, rhino, warthog, monitor lizard, mongoose, kudu, impala, millipede, giraffe, hippo, baboon, franklin, turtle, and crocodile.

I still think too many animal pictures are pretty boring, so I tried to include ones here that also feature the human experience.

I also want to clarify that this change of heart does not imply anything like a change in career from social worker to veterinarian. But when I go home, I think I might get a bird feeder.

South Africa currently has a lot of:

1. Vuvuzelas

Reports from the States indicate frustration and annoyance at these little musical instruments, but I will defend them as both fun and festive. I hear them in the background at all times of day: the joyous sounds of the World Cup. The only time I wanted to break one in half was on the 20-minute shuttle ride between Durban stadium and our car when five local teenage boys seemed intent on deafening everyone in the bus.

2. Men
Yes, men are stereotypically more into sports than women, but I've never been at a sporting even where I have been so obviously outnumbered. At the Apartheid museum in Joburg, tons of men. At Cape Point, tons of men. On my township tour, I was the only woman. Every restaurant and hostel is full of men. But I'm not complaining: last night I watched the Ghana game with a suave Argentine who bought me dinner.

3. Seattle-ites
Almost every other American I meet here is from Seattle. No joke. On my first day, I spotted a guy with a Sounders scarf, and it turns out that he is from the neighborhood next to mine. There were 8 Americans - including me and Seth - watching the USA vs. Algeria game on a small TV in our hostel owner's personal bedroom. (The hostel bar with the big screen was showing the England vs. Slovenia game.) FOUR of us - 50% - were from Seattle. Yesterday I met a guy who teaches first grade in a Seattle suburb. We watched the Brazil match together at the Cape Town Fan Fest park (see #7). I love my city!

4. Kentucky Fried Chickens

There are surprisingly few American chains here. No Starbucks. No Wal-Marts. But tons of KFC's. Every small rural Black township we drove through had one. The city is littered with them.

5. International Flags

While the Vancouver Olympics were dominated by the maple leaf, South Africa is decorated with the 32 flags of all competing nations. It's easy to feel welcome here.

6. Flat Screen TV's

Every restaurant, bar, store and shopping center has a TV showing the World Cup matches. Between these TV's and the car radio, I have seen or heard probably 90% of the games. The two days that there were not any games, I hardly knew what to do with myself.

7. FIFA Fan Fest Parks

For people who do not have match tickets but who want to have a match-like experience, FIFA installed huge screens all over the country. Even the small rural towns have them (see second photo). To enter the area, you have to go through a security check point, and they sell all sorts of stadium-like food and beverages in there. It's a blast to watch and cheer with so many people - locals and tourists - out in the open air.

8. Gloating Dutch Fans

They annoy me now. They threw cups of beer up in the air all over the fan park every time they scored against Brazil. And they celebrated in the streets all night long. I got heckled the rest of the night for wearing my Brazil jersey. I took this picture before Brazil lost.

Maybe Animals Are Kind Of Interesting After All

The biggest tragedy of the trip so far is that Seth - who used to want to be a veternarian and who was more excited about shark diving than almost anything else on the trip other than soccer - was too seasick to cage shark dive. He took these pictures of me moments before he upchuked over the side of the boat. The crew would have allowed him to go in, but he could barely move.

Initially, I had absolutely no desire to go: getting into a clausterophic cage in freezing cold water with human-eating beasts did not sound like fun at all. But Seth had made reservations about a month ago, and he convinced me last minute to try to squeeze onto the list. I got super nervous beforehand - I come from a family of surfers and Jaws-watchers.

Once I relunctantly loaded the boat, they took us out to an island full of seals, and anchored in the middle of a stormy sea (thus the motion sickness) with an 8-person cage hanging alongside the boat. Once you're in the cage, you float with your head just above the surface of the water while a guy on the ship throws out a huge chunk of tuna bait attached to a string. Then, as he spots a shark approaching, he yells, "Down on left!" That's our cue to submerge our heads and look left as a shark comes barreling towards us. Then he'll yell, "Down middle!" and we hold our breathe and look straight ahead.

About a dozen sharks came within three feet of my face. It was not scary, but thrilling, especially when they approached us with their mouths wide open. Every time we came up for air, the people next to me in the cage would scream, "Holy cow! Did you see that?!" Then we would pop our heads down for more. After 15 minutes or so in the cage, there was still great shark watching from the boat. We saw some amazing breeches, and saw one shark attmept to eat the bait that was stuck on the side of the cage. (See picture.)

About 30 minutes after my turn in the water, I also got seasick and puked off the side of the boat. But I recovered quickly and the experience was still totally worth it. It's just kind of sad that I - the animal hater - got to have the experience that Seth - the animal lover - wanted. I will keep trying to give animals a chance.

Seth and Oakie

Driving with a left-handed stick-shift on the left side of the road is probably one of the most terrifying things I have done in South Africa (well, at least until shark diving tomorrow). Driving along the highway is fine, but this is what goes through my head when I have to make a turn:

"Ok, turn onto the left side of the road. Stay left! Crap, I have to downshift. Oh no, we're going to stall. Downshift! Downshift! And now I'm not breaking fast enough. Don't flip, little car! Why are the windshield wipers going?! Aaahhh! The stupid blinker is on the other side. Now we're going to rear-ended because no one knows that we're turning. Blinker, now!"

Fortunately, Seth drives 90% of the time. We have put some serious miles on our little Hyundai named Oakie - tomorrow we will complete the gorgeous 1,000 mile drive from Durban to Cape Town. Despite the fact that Oakie has what Seth describes as "wheelbarrow tires," she has served us well. Most importantly, she has not been broken into.

Beyond his willingness to drive, Seth has many other qualities that make him a perfect travel companion. He makes me laugh. A lot. He charms the locals. He made all the reservations at our hostels. He lets me read out-loud to him the history of all the towns we pass. He knows almost everything about soccer. We get hungry and tired at the same times.

In five more days, I will be car-less and Seth-less, but in the mean time, I am greatly enjoying their company.

Just for fun, here are some pictures of the baboons we saw along the side of the freeway today. They created quite the traffic jam!