The End

Perhaps in karmic retribution for the difficulties Ani and I had the last time we were in Heathrow airport, our arrival in London this time went very smoothly. After dropping our large luggage at the hotel where we were to stay next Friday (a handy trick for people burdened with a semester’s worth of stuff and attempting a whirlwind tour of the UK ), we hopped on the bus to Oxford.

A double-decker that comes with wireless internet! Could you ask for a better bus?

My roommate from Macalester, Katie Willingham, has been studying abroad at Saint Catherine’s College in Oxford and she not only proved an excellent tour guide for the city but also put us up in her dorm for the weekend. Oxford is an absolutely gorgeous city – picturesque in an almost fantastical way with the stunning architecture of the many colleges intermingling with the almost stereotypically British charm of the place.

Because Katie and her friends are all students at the university, Ani and I were able to not only admire the outside of many of the buildings but were treated to insider views of many of the colleges. We met up with Katie’s British friend Charlie who attends Jesus College where there grows the second oldest Wisteria in the world.

Very old Wisteria

Ani, Katie, and Charlie in front of Jesus

We then went on a walk, past Christ Church College and over into their meadows. Like many good British towns and cities, Oxford has a number of parks open for public wanderings. In Christ Church Meadows we past some punters on the river (a favorite student past-time apparently) as well as some rowers, another popular activity.

Looking across the meadows to Christ Church

We also visited the Bodelain Library, which is the main Oxford library. Unfortunately, this is one area where just being with a student wouldn’t help us. You have to show student ID to get into the building, so we contented ourselves with the outside of the building, a place impressive unto itself.

Ani at the medical students’ door

These are apparently not used anymore, but it’s fun to imagine students in black robes hurrying through them into halls of knowledge!

Students learning

That evening we went to Hall, which is the Oxford equivalent of going to the school cafeteria for dinner – only EPIC. As Katie noted, Harry Potter is perhaps less innovative than we might have originally thought when it comes to some of the Hogwarts school activities. At Hall, the professors of Saint Catz enter (while the students stand) and then sit at a table at the front of the room. We were then served a three course meal that, while no Café Mac, put Botswana to shame. Additionally, students are required to wear robes during their exams and, for various reasons including an abundance of college balls, it’s not that uncommon to find male students walking the streets of Oxford in suits and even a tux or two. Suffice it to say I was considerably impressed.

Katie, Ani and me at Hall

Following the meal, we wandered across Oxford (which is a remarkably small little place—everything is within walking distance) to a pub called the Eagle and Child. Here C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien and other members of a group of writers used to get shwasty while discussing books. Naturally, this meant that we too had to have a drink there, in the hopes that some of these writers’ success might rub off on us.

Standing where Tolkien once stood

We also enjoyed what I am assured by Katie and her friends is a true Oxfordian pub experience when two rather inebriated British men in the pub shared a story about Nelson Mandela with us before engaging in a lively debate with some of Katie’s friends as to the existence of God.

Thanks to some surreptitious photography (or maybe not, one man seems aware of the camera): Ani and our table guests

The rest of the weekend we wandered the town, familiarizing ourselves with Oxford. We went to a completely vegetarian pub, which was surprisingly delicious. I climbed the Tower of Saint Mary’s College to get a panoramic view of the city and Katie’s friend Mike let us all into the Philosophy Faculty where we enjoyed lunch and tea in the sunshine before Katie showed us around New College.

Up the tower, a rather harrowing flight of narrow stairs.

The view of the city – breathtaking!

New College, not actually so new.

Monday finally came and Ani and I reluctantly said goodbye to Katie to board our night bus to Edinburgh where we were scheduled to meet up with some more of my friends studying abroad. The first of these friends was Christine, one of the friends I made way back in eighth grade when I was spending a semester in Berlin. This was a particularly fun reunion as we hadn’t seen each other in seven years. Christine has been spending the year in Edinburgh and was well-versed in the best ways to tour the city so almost immediately upon arrival she set us up with a free walking tour of the city. Unlike Oxford, which is a city of light brick, Edinburgh has a very gothic feeling with many black spires spiking out of the city dramatically.

Gothic spike

The walking tour was conducted by a young (and might I say quite attractive) Scotsman named Andy who enthusiastically regaled us with tales of the city. It was be a bit beyond the scope of this blogs to share all of these stories but some highlights are included.

This heart, being formerly next to the tax collector, was spat upon by locals to indicate their displeasure at taxation. It is also the symbol for one of Edinburgh’s two football teams who spit on it for good luck, while their rivals spit on it out of scorn.

Edinburgh’s castle

Grayfriar’s cemetery where Bobby the Dog is buried. Bobby is famous for having stayed by his master’s grave for something like a decade out of loyalty.

Bobby, in metal.

The next day (Wednesday), Ani and I met up with Lydia briefly before both she and Christine went to take some of their exams. While they were being studious, Ani and I wandered over to Arthur’s Seat—a hill that is quite a landmark in Edinburgh. Ani and I hiked the hill separately and along the way managed to lose each other. This is one of those instances where the importance of cell phones becomes very apparent. Ani wisely chose to go back into the city where she knew we were meeting Lydia and Christine later. I, however, reclimbed the hill several times in search of her, so I am now thoroughly well-versed in that particularly section of Scotland!

Thankfully, both the hike and the view are beautiful

At the top of Arthur’s Seat

We all had dinner at a pub called the Last Drop (so named because it was where people used to be taken for their last sip of whiskey before they were hanged). Here I sampled vegetarian haggis, an item I have been assured is much better than its traditional counterpart. While I can’t speak of real haggis, the vegetarian one is quite good.

A “real” (well as real as a vegetarian can get) Scottish meal

We then went to a folk concert featuring a man named Archie Fisher, which was a relaxing way to wind down the day.

No trip to Edinburgh would be complete without a little Harry Potter appreciation. After all, it’s where JKR first began writing the books, where she finished them, and where she currently resides. In honor of these facts, I finally completed my set of the British editions of the books and we went to breakfast at the Elephant House Café—the spot where JKR first began writing the books.

Such joy

Outside the Elephant House

The place itself isn’t that tourist-y. Indeed, it remains more devoted to the elephants for which it is named rather than Harry Potter, which is wonderful because it allows you to get a sense for what the place may have felt like when JKR was actually there.

Lydia and I enjoying breakfast – perhaps where JKR sat!

Looking out at the view, it’s nice to imagine that with such inspiration I too could have written a world-famous fantasy novel!

Thursday evening marked the end of our time in Scotland and thus Ani and I (along with Christine, who decided to join us on a whim!) once more boarded the night bus to return to London. Nine plus hours later, we unloaded to meet the final friend in the UK, a girl named Maddy who I also know from my semester in Berlin. Maddy has been going to school full-time in London and together the four of us wandered through Trafalgar Square and James’ Park.

I finally got my picture with the lions in Trafalgar Square, something that an over-abundance of tourists had prevented the last time Ani and I were here (in January!)

Three friends, reunited briefly

Maddy ran to class and Ani, Christine and I went to Portobello Road where, apart from having the urge to perform an act from the movie Bedknobs and Broomsticks, we enjoyed the bustling street market. We then set about attempting to secure Christine a ticket to attend A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespeare’s Glob e Theater, where Ani and I already had tickets for the evening performance. This was one of the highlights for me personally in the UK, standing in the peasant’s area, watching Shakespeare performed in the venue in which he had envisioned it. It was magical.

The Globe

So great.

Thus, this blog ends where it began: on an airplane across the Atlantic. This semester has been a most memorable one, and I want to thank everyone who helped make it so great. From the people in Botswana: CIEE students, Batsi, Batswana, to the friends in the UK who housed Ani and myself for the week: Katie, Christine, and Lydia, it has been fantastic. Thanks also to everyone who has kept up with the blog! It’s been so much fun to write and it’s nice to know that people have enjoyed reading it! Cheers.

Go Siame, Gaborone

Sitting only a few feet from the “Pula Lounge,” in the Sir Seretse Khama Airpor—a place too small to merit more than one waiting area for all flights—I am now passing my last hour in Botswana. Over the past couple of weeks, most of the experiences have been ones that hold great personal significance, but don’t make for much in a blog post. Perhaps that’s the mark of finally beginning to feel as though you are living in certain place: when events stop feeling like unusual incidents and become day-to-day life. I’ve had all my final exams, a process during which I crammed to memorize the exact words of my teachers, the names of authors I would be expected to cite during my in-class essays, and worked on my knowledge regurgitation skills. After that, it was time for the last events and goodbyes. We went back to Primi Piatti, the first restaurant at which CIEE ate in Botswana and Ani and I, in memory of our first time there, shared a pizza. Not traditional Setswana cuisine, it’s true, but we’d all had our fill of pap, intestines, and soup for the semester. We finished up our souvenir shopping and even managed to have a burrito night in honor of Cinqo de Mayo (code for: we all really missed burritos). That party proved to be a merger of lifestyles with us mashing up hamburger patties to create ground beef, and using something called “thick cream” for sour cream. Hand-made guacamole and pizza-dip all around.

We also successfully picked up Sophie’s suits for her brothers and father, and even modeled them.

On Saturday we went to Batsi’s house for one last braai (Botswana barbeque), where his family went above and beyond to include a number of vegetarian items. Sitting outside, with pop music blasting through the neighborhood we all were able reminisce a little about our time in Botswana. Unlike most places in the States, no neighbors would complain about the noise or the people out in the yard—live and let live, here in Bots.

Ani, Batsi and myself

Today we moved out of our dorms and experienced a departure that encompasses so many of the little quirks that make Botswana the place it is. After riding to drop Sophie off at the airport, we went back with our cab driver Dimpho—a man who, quite apart from getting us all over Gabs and therefore knowing everything about our everyday lives, has also proven himself to be a good friend.

Dimpho, pretending (in his words) to be Zimbabwean by carrying my luggage on his head.

We then packed up all of our luggage and were preparing to leave when the security guard for Las Vegas wandered into our room to demand our “computer registration forms.” Upon discovering that no one had ever made us sign such forms, she explained that we would not be permitted to leave Las Vegas without them and called her superior. Just when we were beginning to feel like maybe it was high time we left Gabs, the supervisor called someone to bring us the forms and the two security guards helped themselves to the items Ani and I were leaving behind. By the end, the guard was thanking us profusely and we were playing with the music on my iPod. In the last hour before our departure, we managed to make a friend. Unfortunately, we were then accosted by the cleaning ladies, who demanded to know why we were giving everything to the security guards when the cleaning ladies had been our “mothers” for the semester. It’s one of the many paradoxes of Botswana.

Here at the airport, the computers are broken, so Ani and I (along with everyone in our flight) have been issued hand-written tickets.

All of which leaves us here in the airport, about to leave the country that for the past five months has been our home. It’s moving to winter here now, although you could still wear shorts today. The combis are still zooming around the city, honking to see if you need a ride, waiting for you to flag them down.

There are still cows on the streets, right alongside massive development and construction projects.

People are selling little candies along the road in tuck shops and simple stands and you can buy your rubber stamp today, if you so wish.

It is impossible to summarize our time here, and I’m sure we won’t even realize how much it has affected us until we’re back in the States, missing the savory pies sold in front of the library…maybe even missing pap and mophane worms! But before that, we’re on our way to the UK; in fact, by the time I post this we will be there. Check back here at least one more time to see how the study abroad adventure ends. As for Botswana:

Sala sentle. Go well.

Medicine, Monkeys, and More

As this week comes to a close, so do all of Ani and my classes. Incredible as it seems, we are nearing the end of the semester and now is the time of finals and check-outs. But first, the past couple weeks in review.

The weekend before last was our final CIEE cultural excursion, this time to visit a traditional healer. Though Botswana has a large number of Western clinics and hospitals, traditional healers still have a large number of clients. We went to visit a man in Gaborone who cures everything from stomach aches to bad luck. Nine of us all piled into his small room – for those who have seen a Dupre single at Macalester, this room was slightly smaller than that. For those who don’t get the comparison, just know that Mac pays a fine because those rooms are smaller than regulations allow. His office was lined with class jars and tin cans filled with medicines. Some he said he collects here in Gabs, but others require him to go to Zimbabwe. Medicines are made from combinations of herbs, roots, bark, leaves, and animal bits – including a mixture of elephant dung that, when burned, brings you good luck and customers at your shop. Perhaps one of the most interesting –and troubling—cures that the healer offered was the ability to cure HIV/AIDS. He said that, should you come early on, when you are still fit, he would give you a medicine that flushed the virus out of your system. To do so, you would drink about 15 liters a day. This is actually one of the challenges for Botswana in confronting the AIDS epidemic. Many people will test positive at a health clinic and then, rather than consulting the physicians to whom the clinic recommends them, they go instead to a traditional healer for the “cure.” Nevertheless, despite this rather dangerous promise on the healer’s part, it seems most of the other cures that he told us about where more for bad luck, or women trying to find rich husbands.

After that we went to the Gaborone Game Reserve for a braai—Botswana barbeque! With Batsi and Joe the combi driver as our chefs we had fun watching the monkeys run around the camp site. Well, we had fun until one scoundrel of a monkey climbing above us in a tree decided to poop directly on Ani! She seems to be having a rather unfortunate time with the simians here in southern Africa: first the thieving baboon in Victoria Falls and now this!

Most of the CIEE crew

Batsi grilling away—he even brought vegetarian burgers!

Ani and monkey poop

CIEE Combi Crew

As many of you know, that weekend was also Ani’s 21^st birthday, an event that for Batswana is not as exciting, given the drinking age is 18. Nevertheless, we decided to celebrate in style and went out to Linga Langa, a restaurant at Riverwalk. Dessert is not as big a food item here as it is in the States, so we discovered to our dismay that this would have to be a birthday without cake. We made due with a lasagna.

Lasagna Cake

The Birthday Girl!

Another little experience Ani and I have recently had is that of doing our laundry by hand. UB has a number of laundry machines that we’ve been gratefully using for most of the semester, but last week must have been laundry-week for everyone because we couldn’t seem to find a free one. Undaunted we decided to try our hands (haha) at washing them ourselves, something much more common here in Botswana than back in the States. In fact, a number of Batswana swear its cleaner to do it this way, though I suppose it depends on your skill level!

Ani scrubbing away

Solar-powered dryer ;)

Part of ending the study abroad semester is souvenir shopping, for ourselves and people back home. One particularly original gift is that of Ani and my friend Sophie, who is buying her twin brothers and father custom-made sports jackets –in a vibrant, African print. We wandered over the African Mall pick out some cloth and were directed into the back of the store to talk to the tailor. After a great deal of rather amusing estimations as to how long her brothers’ arms might be, we got the order placed. Look for a picture of what are sure to some rather hilarious outfits!

Other than that, the focus here has been paper-writing for Batsi and wrapping up classes. There’s a two week period of finals and then we’ll be heading out on May 6^th. It looks like our flight should be okay, despite the ash that has delayed so many other people this past week—particularly everyone on their spring break in Europe! Fingers crossed everything should be fine for us. Ani and I are scheduled to do a ten day lay-over in the UK following the end of the semester here, so the blog will continue through there!

Somewhere Over the Rainbow City

It was a dark and stormy night when, after six hours in a combo ride from Gaborone, we pulled into the bus station of Johannesburg (or rather Jo’burg) at 8:30pm to begin our Easter vacation. Months and months of sweating ourselves dry and last Thursday was when it decided to become cold and rainy. Nevertheless, we were in high spirits because we were on our way to Durban. Ani and I travelled with four other exchange students: Nancy, Shelley, and Isabelle from CIEE and a guy named Dennis finishing his masters degree. Unfortunately, though we had booked the tickets we were told that we were a half hour too late to claim them, which left us stranded in the bus station in Jo’burg, surrounded by countless other people all on their way to Durban as well, it would seem, for out of four bus companies we couldn’t find a single one with space. This left us in somewhat of a predicament. One of the first things I’ve been told every time I mentioned Jo’burg is that it is a city of crime and that you should never walk around it at night. Nevertheless when faced with the prospect of a night in the bus station, we promptly broke that rule and wandered into the dark to find ourselves a motel. Wet and hungry, we checked into a roadside hotel and proceeded to make do with what provisions we could scrounge – at this time it was 10pm and apparently even in Jo’burg, a city rather larger than Gaborone, restaurants close at this time.

Our provisions

The combi station, during the day

We then awoke early the next morning (we left the hotel at 5am) to once more walk the dark streets of Jo’burg to the combi stop where, forgoing bus options, we crowded into the all-too-familiar coziness of the tightly packed minivan/bus. Six hours later, we finally arrived at our destination – Durban!

Our trip in red

One shot of the skyline in Durban

Durban is the third largest city in South Africa and substantially larger than any cities in Botswana (compare Bots’ population of 1.8 million to South Africa’s 49.3 million and it’s not such a surprise). It’s also the busiest port in Africa and has a thriving Indian community, so it promised to be quite the change from landlocked, largely homogenous Gabs. We stayed at a charming (as always) hostel named Nomads.

Nomads

By this point it was around one in the afternoon—plenty of time to explore! So we set off on a tramp around the city, walking through many little markets and bus stations until we found Juma, the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere.

The bottom is surrounded by shops.

The mosque is actually hard to find, something that is slightly ironic, given its reputation as the largest. We wandered awkwardly around it until a friendly man in a long white robe on his way in invited us to join him. Turns out we’d hit the 4:30 call to prayer and this man, along with the other Muslims in the mosque, welcomed us into the building and allowed us to sit in the back while they prayed. This seemed very generous to me, as we were a group of almost all women, and while none of us were dressed inappropriately, we didn’t really have on what I would consider mosque-worthy attire. After the prayer, the men explained to us a little history of the mosque, including the fact that the secret to it size lies in the fact that it has three stories, effectively tripling the size. Though we never did find where the women would go, it was a very welcoming experience.

“Hidden” door, where we shown in.

Then, in a rush to beat the setting sun, we hurried back to the hostel before going out for dinner. The seafood lovers in our group particularly enjoyed the cuisine of Durban, where fish and other “fruits of the sea” are in no short supply.

Nancy and Dennis are delighted by their meal

We then got back to the hostel in true southern Africa fashion. Six people do not fit comfortably in a four passenger cab, you’ll note. Unless, of course, two people climb into the trunk, which is what Nancy and I did, lying low to avoid notice. We were apparently over-cautious, because later that weekend we would simply cram everyone into the back seat, the cab drivers unconcerned by the prospect of traffic regulations.

Saturday, in addition to being the day before Easter Sunday, turned out to also be the date of a Hindu festival in Durban known as the Festival of Chariots or Rathayatra. The festival is the largest of its kind outside of India and celebrates Lord Krishna. The festival itself was presented to us as a celebration of all faiths, open to everyone. It began with dancing in front of three large chariots, each carrying a god. Because this is Durban, in addition to the women doing a traditional Indian dance, there were also Zulu dancers performing helping Durban live up to its nickname: the Rainbow City.

One of the chariots

Down the line, a smorgasbord of dancing!

After some speaking, everyone took up the long ropes attached to the chariots and proceeded to pull them down the streets of Durban in a large parade. The music and dancing continued along the way.

Everyone helps with the rope!

One of the best parts for me about this festival was the emphasis placed on free food. As we walked along the chariots, we were encouraged to take orange drink bags.

I think the picture is necessary as my description is lacking

And then later we were welcomed to grab free (vegetarian!) food

We finally ended up at the end of the parade where there was more free food as well as prayer tents and shopping tents. The entire thing was remarkably welcoming and very enjoyable. Furthermore, the Zulu dancers, displaying a level of endurance and energy that impressed the pants off me, continued performing. No mean feat, considering how much effort is exerted in this type of dancing.

Day three in Durban saw us rising to go and enjoy the beaches of Durban, of which there are many. We went to uShaka, a marine park that not only had slides and sandy strips, but an aquarium and dolphin, seal, and penguin presentations. Finally feeling as though I had a chance to visit Sea World, we toured the lot.

It’s a giant turtle!

We caught the sharks at feeding time

Dolphins, an unsurprising crowd pleaser

I was inspired

The seal was part of a cute little skit

Penguins!

And now, some necessary beach photos. Welcome to the Indian Ocean!

Of course there was music!

Everyone goes to the beach!

On our last day, we had a bit of an encounter with the dirtier side of Durban, South Africa, and urban sites as whole when we discovered that Sunday night while we were sleeping two men had broken into our hostel and room and stolen Ani’s purse. The security guard had chased them and managed to reclaim most of her stuff, but she did lose her wallet and camera. Thankfully, she got the card cancelled and our travel insurance should cover the camera. The hostel manager was very apologetic and waived her room fees.

That drama aside, Nancy and I visited Durban’s Botanical Gardens while Ani and the rest of the crew went back to the beach to soak up the last few hours of sea breeze and sun. Back in the gardens, Nancy and I were having some trouble locating the entrance from outside the gates. We knew that it was open because people were walking inside, but how they got in remained a mystery to us. Not to be thwarted by something as petty as a fence, we slithered under through a small gap. That combined with my ride in the back of the cab makes my time in Durban some of the most rebellious moments of my life!

The gardens themselves were lovely – surprisingly diverse for their size, and they had a tea garden.

Nomming bananas

Orchid room

That even we boarded our night bus and headed back to Jo’burg. Our trip, however, was not over. After a hassle-free trip back to the city, we then went to visit the Apartheid Museum. This was one of the few tourist sites I’d been told to visit before even departing for southern Africa, and it was certainly worth the trip. We spent a total of three hours there, but we could have easily done more. For someone like me, whose education on apartheid had been spotty at best over the years, it was not only a well put together museum, but an immensely important one educationally.

To maintain the somber mood, it was raining again

There was a special exhibit just on Nelson Mandela

We finally hopped on our last combi and made our way back to Gaborone. It was a lot of travelling, a lot of cramped sitting, but a fascinating trip from all angles. Now that we’re back, we’re facing the end of the semester. Finals begin in less than twenty days and we have less than a month now until Ani and I pack up our bags and conclude our time in Botswana. Hopefully time doesn’t rush by too quickly!

A cheesy, but poignant marker from the Apartheid Museum