Face to Face with a Great White Shark

August 31, 2011

"Do they ever attack the cage?"

Jabulani asked this question, somewhat hopefully, as we settled into the briefing at Marine Dynamics in Kleinbaai.We had flown to Cape Town the day before, this being Jabulani's 13th-birthday-trip, and then we had driven all morning to this little town about two and a half hours along the coast. The closer we got, the more I was berating myself for my utter foolishness in including me, of all people, in this undertaking. It was HIS birthday, after all, and HIS excitement about swimming with sharks, and no one prodded me along - it was entirely of my own doing. There is something about living in South Africa that makes me fly in helicopters, balance above yawning precipices, and mingle with all manner of wild and dangerous animals. After being done as expats here I won't even have to come up with a bucket list anymore as I'm sure I'll have done it all.
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13th Birthday in Style

August 30, 2011

Breakfast at the Westin in Cape Town
As of yesterday, we have another teenager in the house! That sounds like a lot but we're hopeful the second time around is easier than the first. After all, we're only halfway there yet. Or less than half-way, some might argue, as the next two are going to be girls.

But I wanted to talk to you about our thirteenth birthday tradition. Being brought up by very normal (and somewhat thrifty) German parents, neither Noisette nor I have any kind of intriguing family tradition to draw on when it comes to this important rite of passage for our kids. We don't have any Bar Mitzvah's to offer like many of our Jewish friends back in Overland Park. We're not South African and therefore can't bring ourselves to open up our house to 70 rowdy teenagers for a disco party, and we certainly don't practice any manhood rituals where our boys get sent into the woods for a week to meditate and slaughter a bull and perhaps get circumcised in the process.
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The Insurmountable Picture Hanging Project

August 29, 2011

The one huge downside about being an expat is that you have to move to get to wherever your assignment is. And the one huge downside about moving, at least for me, is that you have to hang your pictures all over again. That's right, in my mind it surpasses visa trouble and cultural barriers to sit right at the top of the pain-in-the-ass list of expat existence. I cannot tell you how often we've had to hang these same pictures, every time on a set of differently configured walls, to the point where I cannot even look at them anymore.

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Skiing in Johannesburg

August 26, 2011

Yep, you read that one right. There is in effect a place where you can go skiing and snowboarding right here in Joburg, even if there is no snow. That place is called Avalanche.

It's located in Cedar Square, not far from Dainfern/Fourways, and I got to check it out during Impatience's recent birthday party, although unfortunately I forgot my camera that day and therefore don't have many pictures to show.


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My Dark Secret

August 25, 2011

I have a confession to make: I hate hate hate birthday parties. I consider myself a fairly good mother in other ways, but organizing and hosting birthday parties for my kids isn't one of them.

I hate having to listen to Impatience and Sunshine chattering about their birthday plans most of the year (I strictly ban all birthday talk directly after the birthday but invariably it resumes about a month later, with eleven months to go).
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Celebrating the Fourth of July in South Africa

I realize I'm a bit tardy with this post. I was going to write it "just now" about a month ago.

You know I've been helping a township baseball team raise funds for new equipment, and I'm always on the lookout for opportunities to promote their cause. Just such an opportunity arrived when I was approached by the American Society of South Africa about putting up a booth and running some baseball games for the 4th of July bash at the American embassy in Pretoria.

Unfortunately I was away that week, so all I  had time for was putting together a very last-minute poster and organizing transport.


Tedius took a small group of players to represent the team and help run the booth. It was a good way to get the word out that there is indeed baseball in South Africa (we'll post a schedule as soon as the new season starts), and I think great fun (and good food) was had by all.


Our boys' old batting stick getting a lot of use

Nice backdrop for warm-ups

Both flags are honored

Can't have a Fourth of July without a bike parade, even if it's in South Africa
I was going to say "hot dogs and apple pie" but it looks more like
"hot dogs and "Budweiser" for this group of Alexandra baseball players




Thanks to Christal with the American Society for the invitation, and thanks to Tedius for taking these pictures, which succeeded in making me just a tad homesick for the USA.
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Looking for a Handcrafted Kindle Cover?

August 24, 2011

Sunshine with her
new Kindle bag
Our youngest daughter Sunshine is extremely lucky in that she has found a best friend who lives three houses down the road. She probably spends more time there than here, and frequently comes home with the most beautiful hand-made items bestowed on her by this loving family, who are also in the business of performing a kind of magic using fabric that I could never replicate.

In fact, when we first moved here and were looking at the approaching winter, I discovered with horror that there was a gap under our front door a small cat could squeeze through, let alone megatons of cold air. When I picked Sunshine up from one of her first playdates with this friend, I noticed several long sausage-type structures placed in front of their doors. I barely had inquired about this when I was sent home with a custom-made sandbag for our house.
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Getting your Car Serviced in South Africa

August 22, 2011

This one I can't quite file into my "Expat Joys" series. What I like about having my car serviced here in South Africa is the, um, service. They take me to my house (or anywhere else I wish to go) after dropping off the car, AND they actually pick me up again in the afternoon. I always hated having my car serviced in the U.S., where they'd take me home alright but not pick me up again. Meaning I'd opt to wait for my car then and there munching chips from the vending machine while watching "The Young and the Restless" at top volume. Here they serve cappuccino or tea with muffins, very civilized. And they always wash my car, inside and out.
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Relaxing at La Gemma dell' Est

If you're going to Zanzibar, La Gemma dell' Est is definitely the place to be. If you like luxury, that is. Otherwise I'm sure there is a backpacker's inn somewhere in Stone Town. Most of you who've been reading about our travels will know that we (and even more so our kids, I often think) are total snobs when it comes to hotels. That's because we've been to Hawaii and more recently Mauritius (which I have yet to write about), and once you've been spoiled in such a paradise it is hard to ever go back to anything less exalted.

The service at La Gemma was outstanding. From the welcome drink...


...to sundowners...


...and room service.



As I've described elsewhere, every encounter with the friendly staff was accentuated with plenty of "Hakuna Matatas" and even though it was all-inclusive, meaning you never had any bills where you might have left a tip, the staff went out of their way to see if you needed anything around the clock.

One nice feature of La Gemma is its fairly wide sandy beach. It's not actually that wide and pretty  much disappears at high tide, but from what I hear, this is the best you will find in Zanzibar, which is not known for its wide beaches. And La Gemma has made the most of this by adding an artificial beach  of sorts a bit higher up between the real beach and the pool, so that you have the feeling of sitting on the beach no matter where you are. You can face the pool in the morning and rotate your chair and gaze over the ocean in the afternoon, without ever having to move. Just make sure you don't leave the chair selection too late in the morning - there are lots of European guests who have the habit of "marking" chairs with their towels before they go to breakfast, just to secure a good spot.

Overlooking the beautiful grounds of La Gemma

There was evidence of Europeans elsewhere. We guessed from a glimpse to the right that our neighbors must be German:


The food was good, but I wouldn't say great. Once again, we've been spoiled, so it's hard to please us, but for instance the dessert buffet had no one going back for seconds, which is pretty unusual in our family. They just didn't quite know how to make cakes and chocolate mousse. The same goes for breakfast, which is my favorite  meal, and I just love fresh bread and pastries with jam and butter together with a good cappuccino. Let's just say the croissants weren't anything close to real croissants, and most of the fruit was a bit unripe. However, there was definitely enough for everyone to find something they liked. I personally kept going back for the freshly grilled fish and vegetables at dinner time. Still, the food was the one area that might make me hesitate saying we'll definitely go back a second time, though at the all-inclusive rate we got it was a fairly good deal.

A perfect spot for dinner on the beach

Regarding the weather, I'm not sure if it was just bad luck or if this is the pattern at this particular spot on Zanzibar: The days would start out beautiful, but very punctually at around 10:00,  just as you were heading to the pool with your book, dark clouds would roll in. Glancing up it always looked like they should pass any minute, but a weird duo of an offshore and Southern wind somehow kept them firmly in place until about 3:00 in the afternoon, sometimes even subjecting you to a few brief showers. If you check out the beach picture above, you'll see the cloud I'm talking about. I was never truly hot while on Zanzibar (except during our excursion to Stone Town, where we would have welcomed some clouds). In fact, I've never truly been hot since living in Africa, ironically enough. Everything turns cold here when the sun is gone, even in Zanzibar which supposedly is in the tropics.

See what I mean about that cloud? Still the brilliant white sand
and crystal blue waters were stunning

The diving was good, so the boys say, and there were the usual watersports on offer as well. You could take out sea kayaks for free, rent a catamaran or Laser, or go waterskiing or parasailing. Back in the day, Noisette and I were pretty big into windsurfing (we spent our honeymoon with two weeks of windsurfing in Maui or should I say soaking in the hot tub to soothe our sore muscles), and for some odd reason I decided this vacation that it was time to step on a board again. I talked Jabulani into trying it, so together we rented two boards and proceeded to haul up those sails. An instructor helped us at first and had Jabulani's board tied to a long rope which he could use to haul him back in, a great idea. But it would have probably been an even better idea to teach him how to turn. Instead, as he progressed getting his sail hauled up and upright and wind into it, the instructor turned him loose and when it was time to turn around, yelled "turn around" at him. Needless to say, that didn't work so well. Still, we plowed on, and I had some great runs back and forth (though no one took a picture so I can't share one with you) and memories of the olden days surging through me. There is no better feeling, in my mind, then shooting across the waves propelled by the sheer power of the wind, the sun glinting on the waves.

Alas, no windsurfing picture, but here is one of the
many dhows sailing up and down the coast

They've made some changes to the boards from fifteen years ago,  most notably that the bigger ones used for beginners are now as wide as a boat. This greatly helps stability when hauling up the sail, but it also makes them impossible to turn when you're trying to tack. I didn't want to try and jibe (turning away from the wind) either, as that wicked wind which was blowing along the shore when standing on the beach was completely offshore once outside in the bay. So the best option was to crash, swim the sail around, and start again. You can imagine my arms were jello after just half an hour. Which was just as well since by that time Jabulani had drifted farther and farther out and from his antics I could see he was extremely frustrated. I somehow manhandled my board back to the dock, swam out to where he was sitting on his board and showering me with the vilest accusations, and manged to sail both of us back to shore (full disclosure: we were actually "rescued" when the instructor came out and met us with his motorboat, which had me a bit miffed because by now I was on a perfect course back home, but still Jabulani hopped off and preferred to go with him). I'm not too concerned that he will never try again as Jabulani of all our kids tends to forgive and forget and bounce back with renewed vigor the next time, but I admit I could have picked a better day (and maybe a better place) for his first foray into windsurfing. Still, I've caught the bug again and will definitely plan for some windsurfing next time on a windy beach.

One of our favorite spots, after the daily afternoon family tennis match, was the sunset bar built on stilts right into the ocean:



We would sip our drinks and watch a beautiful sunset, or look down to see huge fish swarms swirling below.



And we would gaze out at the calm ocean, toast each other, and say Hakuna Matata!




More on Zanzibar:

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Stone Town

August 21, 2011

Every vacation we go on at least one excursion that according to our kids is incredibly stupid and unnecessary. In fact, we probably violate the Geneva Conventions with the kind of torture we inflict on them. Last time around when we were in George, our crime was The Very Boring Hike. This time, in Zanzibar, we decided to explore Stone Town.

It looked very inviting and picturesque, according to our hotel brochure, and there is only so much diving and sitting on the beach that you can do over the course of a week, so we signed up for an excursion to Stone Town on our third day. Back we went the same way we had come from the airport a few days earlier, an hour of skirting potholes, donkey carts, and bikes, with good glimpses of a world entirely different from ours. Veiled women (95% of Zanzibar is Muslim), colorful clothes hung out to dry, animal carcasses hanging in butcher shops, and most often people just sitting around. Especially the men. That is the one lasting imagine I will take from Africa with me – people sitting along the road doing nothing. Maybe they’re waiting for a taxi, or waiting for a job to come find them, or waiting for better fortune. I don’t know, but sit around they do.
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Hakuna Matata

August 19, 2011

Zanzibar. Few names ring as magical and so full of mystery as Zanzibar. It makes you think of spices, Arabs, sultans, explorers, and all of 1001 Nights thrown into the lot. Noisette and I thought that while we're living reasonably close, visiting Zanzibar was too good a chance to pass up.
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I Finally Have Uncapped Internet

August 18, 2011

I've actually been wanting to write about this for a while. I had almost forgotten what a pain it once was to always have to monitor our internet use, until I recently talked to a newcomer who doesn't have any internet at all (or, rather, has to perch precariously on her windowsill in the one place of her house where she can poach the neighbor's internet, just to download emails).

When we  moved here, we had signed up for Telkom's internet service, not really knowing what else was out there. Telkom has a 9 gigabyte monthly cap on their internet service, and let me tell you, it is not enough. At least for a family of 6 people that includes (soon) two teenagers. We  have friends who looked at us incredulously for even attempting to make do with 9 gigabytes. Most people back home probably don't even know their usage because they've never had to deal with a cap.
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Travelling in Africa - of Visas and Yellow Fever Certificates

August 16, 2011

I promised to keep you posted on what happens when you go through immigration in Zanzibar. The arrivals hall, or should I say shack, was every bit as cramped and sweat-stenched as I had imagined when musing about this scene ahead of our trip. And no, it was not a breeze to get our visas, whatever was I thinking?




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Did You Bring Your Passport and Your Ticket?

August 15, 2011

No, these words were not spoken to me at the airport but – surprise – at the bank. I was on another foreign currency quest of mine. This time for US-Dollars, which are needed to pay for visas when travelling to Zanzibar. Lots of them. $360 total, to be precise. It was the day before our flight, and, as Noisette had predicted, I was extremely busy running around getting everything organized. Impatience having her birthday party that afternoon didn’t help. So between buying donuts for her class and picking up the cake for later, I thought I’d drop in at the bank, where I was stopped cold by above question.

Honestly, I’m glad that after one and a half years of living in South Africa, I still stumble into these situations like the first expat off the boat, otherwise I wouldn’t have any good stories to tell you!  Can you see that this is another Expat Tip in the making? When going to the bank for foreign currency, make sure you bring your passport AND ticket! That’s right, you have to p rove that you’re actually planning to go to a foreign country before you are allowed to get foreign currency. From your very own account using your very own money. I almost felt transported back to East Germany circa 1988.

All this just to get $400
So there was nothing for me to do but go home and get my ticket. Even though nowadays everyone travels on e-tickets, they still wanted an actual printout. I’ve learned not to argue these things. Loud arguing and demands to speak to the branch manager were ensuing from the adjacent cubicle while I packed away my passport and left. By the time I returned, a huge line had formed, and then it took me another 30 minutes to fill out the required forms. All my contact details on one form, front and back, and some kind of affidavit that I hadn’t yet used any of my allowance of annual foreign currency. I didn’t even bother to ask what that meant. My passport was copied for the 26th time and filed away in what I can only imagine must be a huge room of overflowing file cabinets, all my forms were stamped with gusto, a fee was deducted, and I finally had my US-Dollars. By this time I almost felt like kissing those sweet green bills representing a freer and less complicated society.

And you know what? If you’ve read my previous post you will know that I could have avoided all this. Three trips to the bank, standing in line, a stack of forms filled out, over R200 in fees – all completely avoidable if I’d had the presence of mind to put two and two together and just hold on to those Euros I had from Germany, which surely they would have just as readily accepted in Zanzibar as US-Dollars. Eish!

But then again, it has been a blessing for Joburg Expat. Just like American comedians bemoaned the departure of President Bush, me and my blog would experience a sense of loss if the ways of South African bureaucracy suddenly turned efficient and – God forbid – logical.
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Travelling with Fifteen Passports

August 11, 2011

No, I'm not a spy, but when our family goes travelling, we tote a large stack of passports with us. I'm always nervous that something will get lost in the melee. I suppose having to keep on top of your passport and visa situation is a very common expat phenomenon, but all I can say, if you become an expat, try not to have any dual nationalities.

At the very minimum, our selection looks like this:



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Going to the Bank in South Africa

I had some Euros from a recent trip to Germany to put into our South African account, so I thought I'd swing by the bank quickly on my round of errands. But of course I should have known better. Afterwards, I wasn't sure if I'd just bought a house.

Documents I needed:
  • 2-page form filled in with all my details
  • my passport with the visa page (at least by now I know to bring that with me on such occasions)
  • affidavit that I don't own any foreign assets that I'm planning to sell here (?)

Time I spent:
  • 30 minutes

It was mostly spent watching the guy retyping the entire form I completed, copying my passport - by now our bank must have at least 25 copies of it floating around - printing out a series of receipts and then energetically stamping all of them before filing everything away and handing me my own copy.

And the fee was horrendous. It  now occurs to me that I should have held on to those Euros. They always come in handy when paying equally horrendous visa fees in other African countries. Oh well.
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White Folks don't Watch Indian Comedy

August 10, 2011

Courtesy of Computicket
Noisette and I went to watch "Buckled" the other day at the Lyric Theatre. It was very funny and we thoroughly enjoyed it. A sort of slapstick act of just two people, a man and a woman, who intend to get married but then run into some complications with their extended family. We had some good laughs.

But the funniest part about it was that we were the only white people in the entire theater. Noisette was impressed when the bartender at intermission remembered his order from earlier, offering to pour the same drink again, but honestly, we must have stood out like a sore thumb.

The show was packed, and every single person there except the two of us was Indian. These actors must have quite a following in the Indian community, but still - it had been advertised ubiquitously and in "our" neck of the woods, so it's not like it was some insider tip only Indians could have known about. Anyway, we enjoyed ourselves and whoever didn't go missed out.

There is something about us and the Lyric Theatre, however. We don't go there often because it's quite far from here all the way to Gold Reef City and so we tend to gravitate to shows at Montecasino (the Teatro there is also much less tacky than the Lyric, in fact it's very nice). Our only other event there was equally weird. I had seen posters for the show "Desperate First Ladies" with an actress called Evita Bezuidenhout. It looked funny, so I got tickets. Well. We show up at the Lyric and while mingling with the other guests in the lobby have the impression that everyone is gay. Which made more sense once we discovered that Evita Bezuidenhout is actually a man who has invented her personality many years ago. She is somewhat of a South African icon. It's hard to explain what exactly she represents, so I'll just point you to this excellent blog post I found about her. Desperate Housewives ended up being very funny as well, since the actor Pieter-Dirk Uys, who is the one incorporating Evita, is very adept at inhabiting a wide variety of other personalities. But unfortunately for us there was a large Afrikaans component to these personalities, so that the audience would at times be roaring with laughter while we didn't understand a word.

Weird or not, that's what I love about life in Johannesburg. You can go from the slums of Alexandra to to the corporate glitz of Sandton in 20 minutes, or you can watch Neil Diamond in a stadium full of middle-aged white people one day, and a comedy in a theater full of Indian people the next.
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Baseball vs Cricket

August 9, 2011

I am reading Notes from a Big Country by Bill Bryson at the moment (which in some ways reminds me of my own blog and is my affirmation that I should continue to devote my energies to the daily observations featured here while they are fresh in my mind for a possible later conversion into book form, instead of writing the book now as Noisette is urging me to do - or maybe it is just a sorry excuse to shy away from such a monumental task).

Anyway, I laughed out loud at his take on baseball versus cricket: "Both are games of great skill involving balls and bats, but with this crucial difference: baseball is exciting and when you go home at the end of the day you know who won." And "Cricket is a wonderful game, full of deliciously scattered micro-moments of real action," he goes on to say. So very true. If you've ever watched a cricket match, particularly the U-13 C team of your son's school, you will agree that those moments of real action are indeed both scattered and of microscopic nature.

If you actually want to understand cricket, read my earlier post on it, where I reviewed another very entertaining book in the Bill Bryson style called What is a Googly by Rob Eastaway.
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Is There a Subway in South Africa?

August 8, 2011

One of the first questions Zax asked when we knew we were moving to South Africa was if there was a Subway there. And no, he didn't mean for transportation. He meant the kind where you can eat - in his opinion, the world's best - subs. I'm kind of partial to Jersey Mike's (couldn't get enough of the #13 when I was pregnant), but that's just me. Everyone else in my family insists that I'm insane.
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The Children of Diepsloot

August 5, 2011

Inspired by this wonderful story by 2summers about her recent visit of Diepsloot - a township/squatter camp not far from where we live - I recalled my own visit there about a month ago.

Our school, Dainfern College, has sort of adopted a partner school in Diepsloot called Reshomile Primary. There are numerous projects to help this school, from the collection of warm blankets in winter to providing weekly meals and sponsoring a Braai Day. Most recently, a months-long effort of a number of dedicated parents collecting and sorting books and building shelves culminated in the dedication of Reshomile's new library. I was fortunate to be invited along (though I hadn't catalogued a single book!) to take some pictures for the school website.
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I've Got Gas!

August 4, 2011

No no no, not what YOU are thinking. I'm talking about HEATING gas. I finally found some and thought I'd share with you where you can get it here in Joburg. Both 48 kg and 9 kg bottles, delivered right to your house. I almost fell over from joy after starting our fireplace for the first time in months.
The Gas Company
25 Jacaranda Street
Hennopspark ext 7
Centurion
South Africa
+27 12 653-3295 
I can highly recommend them, very reliable service and none of those empty promises I got from a half a dozen other places I'd called.

What this means, of course, according to Murphy's Law, is that winter in Joburg is almost over.
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In South Africa we Live in Heaven

August 3, 2011

Thanks to my friend Jacky for the good laugh I had today:

In South Africa we live in HEAVEN.....
we HEAVEN got petrol
we HEAVEN got wek
we HEAVEN got a cure for eds
we HEAVEN got lektriek and
we HEAVEN got beta fewcha
EISH!!!!!!!

Note: The picture shown here previously was removed as it was offensive to a reader.
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