Africa is a strange place sometimes. I traveled to Durban, on the South African coast, to spend Easter break. It was wonderful; great food, good times with friends, and shorts-and-tee-shirt-weather the whole time. Then I return to Mokhotlong, about an inch away on our wall map of Africa, and I find frost across the fields in the morning.
I was surprised to find how big a town Durban is. Part of it way be that I've been confined to one of the more sparsely populated places on one of the world's smallest countries, but really I think it was because Durban was the largest city in Africa that I have spent time in. It really is a beautiful place, with rolling hills ebbing up against the vast Indian Ocean. It is the home of some great Indian food and, I'm told, the largest Indian population outside of India. On Durban's infamous Florida Street one can find fancy clubs where sandals or shorts have the potential to earn you a disapproving look from the bouncer and an early and sober walk home.
Despite the relative modernity of this city on the sea, a drive along the highway outside of Durban offers a stark reminder of South Africa's recent apartheid past. Coming from Lesotho, I was still mesmerized by the up-scale homes that we could see along the roadside. I had quite forgotten how big and opulent houses could be, and was still processing the idea that, not only did many people there own cars, they also had special buildings attached to the house just to keep the car in! But, just as I was getting readjusted to such things, I would look to the other side of the highway and see a row of pathetic, tin and cardboard shacks. These were also someones' dwelling places, and it doesn't take much to figure out who's servant and who's master. A few other things that stuck in my mind are the images of black cleaning ladies at the hostels and an unexpected encounter with a troupe of very white kids riding bikes and roller skating down the road attended by their black nanny/maid. I already knew these sort of social realities are commonplace across much of South Africa, but it was really startling to see it incarnate and in such stark relief.
I also got a small sense of what the Basotho must feel when they see me for the first time, walking through their village or around town. After months spent in my community among the Basotho and only a few Peace Corps compatriots, when we got to Durban I caught myself, time and time again, staring at all the white people! I'm sure that I haven't seen so many together in one spot since leaving the states. I'm not sure if I know exactly why, but such large numbers of white people just going about their days was somehow very interesting to me.
Finally, I spotted a few new animals the trip. On the drive to Durban, I saw non-human primates for the first time in Africa. Several times we passed groups of gibbons(?) hanging out near the road. We also saw herds of grazing ibex/okapi things on this drive. At our first hostel, we found a few small, lemur-like monkeys playing around in the trees. And, lastly, on one late night/early morning trip to the beach, we discovered the shoreline was covered with thousands of translucent slugs slugs, with blue belies. You could see right through them and they looked like they were made of glycerin. Although we were in a group of 8 or so, and even the soberest amongst us claims these snails were real, I have yet to find any documented evidence of their existence, leading me to conclude that they were an elaborate collective hallucination.
We had traveled to Durban as a large group which allowed us to hire entire kombis by ourselves. However, going back to Lesotho we went our separate routes to our own districts. Unfortunately this meant hours and hours crammed in overcrowded kombis blasting famu music through your entire being. Welcome home! Really though, I was glad to return back to my little hut in the mountains. The vacation was great, but I was broke and missed my bed, which I now am convinced is the most comfortable in the world. When I returned home, my host Mme reminded me why I love it here; as soon as I got in my door and set my pack down, she came in, put the second half of her six-pack of hard cider (the hardest stuff she drinks) down on my table and said, “Drink this, you have traveled far, now you need to rest.” So, back to the life of a Mosotho Math teacher for now. I am excited to get back to school and to finish up this semester strong. Winter is fast approaching here though, so stay tuned to see if a Wisconsin boy can hack the snowy season in the land of mountains, cows, and blankets!
