Monday, 21 July 2008

Slloooooowwwwiinnnggg Dooowwwwnnnn....

Time seems to pass quickly for me whether I am traveling or doing absolutely nothing, which is my current M.O. I've been in Pretoria now for nearly three weeks and have really failed to accomplish anything, including finding a way to get a job so I can continue to travel.

For some reason I was under the impression that South Africa would be much like my other destinations so far: you could just walk into a place, ask for a job, they'd tell you to start that evening and POOF!, you're employed. Here you must arrange a work visa, and to do so, a company must go through far too many hoops to prove that you, the flaming American, are the only qualified person for the job over any other South African candidates. And with an unemployment rate around 50%, that makes sense! I wouldn't want to take a job from a South African anyways, especially since I have other options (including going home and/or begging relatives for some dough!).

So, I am currently exploring some other alternatives. I have the go-ahead to stay for as long as I want with my aunt, and am considering staying here to take a holistic healing course (think massage, shiatsu, reiki, acupressure, etc.) whilst trying to find some under-the-table work. There is also the possibility of some volunteer work in either Plettenburg Bay, South Africa or Mozambique.

But first, I have a health issue to attend to. I wish I could say that traveling is always peaches n' cream; that there are no low points, no points of depression or worry. This is definitely not the case, and I'm sure most long-term travelers have at least one big scare on their trips. Mine just happens to be a little outpatient procedure that will cost me about $1000 (about a third of the money I have left!).

I've debated whether or not to post anything about my current affairs, but it's been so long since I've written anything, that I thought it would be important to tell why. Plus I want to share so that I don't have to bear the weight alone (quite selfish of me, I know!).

For over a year now I've had [fellas, you might want to stop now, unless you are man enough to sympathize with a problem only women worry about] abnormal PAP smears--what a gross phrase! In the past few months, things have gotten a little worse, and I have some abnormal cells that are at high risk of eventually developing into cervical cancer. BUT, they won't ever do so, because I found an awesome lady-doctor (what a nightmare, to have to worry about finding a competent lady-doctor abroad) who has assured me all this is nothing to panic about and she will take care of me for, really, about a fraction of what this would cost me in the states.

To be honest, when my lady-doctor first discussed this all with me, I was more worried that my remaining funds--barely enough to get back to the states--would be all dried up and my grand adventure would be over. My heart sunk to think that this was how it would end; in defeat rather than with a bang. My Aunt Linda is the best, though, and has reassured me over and over again not to worry, I always have a place to stay with her and between all the good family and folks back in the States, I should never worry about being stranded and broke. I think that she means she'll bail me out in case of emergency...

For now, I am still laying very low and behaving quite normal. We'll see how long that will last!

Monday, 7 July 2008

Back in Pretoria

Cape Town felt a lot like Seattle. And I felt fairly uncomfortable there.

It was sunny and cold most of the time, so other than for a quick look, there was little sense in heading to the beaches. The city is sort of nestled between the coast and mountains and very picturesque (no wonder it rivals Rio de Janeiro for the world's most beautiful city).

Most of my time was spent lounging about Backpackers on Castle, a hostel partially owned by some friends that is right off the trendy Long Street, or walking around the city aimlessly. Long Street is the Capital Hill (for you Seattleites) of Cape Town--every one is dressed like a hipster, there are tons of bars, clubs and hippy cafes and even used book shops and vintage clothing stores. I went a little mad in the bookshops and spent an entire day searching for some good reads to pass the time.

It was nice to be on my own again. There were no awkward, "what do you want to do now?" or "which way should we go?" It was only me. So when I got to a turn, there was no one to consult, I just went. I would walk for hours to get to some silly lighthouse way out on the tip of Cape Town only realize I didn't care at all about the lighthouse and just wanted a quiet place to read.

I wasn't a complete loner, though. There were only a few people staying at the backpackers, so it felt more like we were all living in a flat together than staying at a hostel. I would veg out on the couch with Elma or be cooking with Natsumi. One day, Stefanie, a traveling German worker, and her Zamiban boyfriend Thomas invited me to drive out to the Cape of Good Hope with them. We got a very late start as we had been out drinking the night before and had some Absinthe (uhmmmm...it is STRONG, and it makes you go crazy; no wonder it is illegal in the States!) so were hurting something fierce in the morning. I woke up still drunk, stumbled to KFC (yes, there are KFCs, McDonalds, and any other sort of greasy, nasty, heart clogging fast food joints you could want here in SA) and returned to pass out on the couch. Not so glamorous...

Needless to say, we left the hostel around 2:30 pm and proceeded to get lost for the next hour before finally getting back on track and heading to the Cape. It was already getting dark by the time we arrived at 5:30 and the park was closed. Oops. At least I can say I drove to the Cape and saw the park gates. That counts for something, right?

My last day in Cape Town it started to rain, a good sign it was time to leave. I arrived back into Joburg and was met by my Aunt Linda and Uncle Allan at the airport to return "home." Indeed, Pretoria does feel a lot like home--it is familiar and I can completely be a slob at my Aunt's house. Suddenly I don't have to worry about which hostel to stay at or how to cook dinner for one. I can sleep in late, stay in pajamas all day and watch t.v.

I'm not a complete slug; I did hit the American Embassy 4th of July party. It didn't feel at all patriotic, but my old housemate from Seattle, John Clemo, was there. He's a Peace Corps volunteer somewhere up north and has been here for several months now. I haven't seem him since Seattle, so it was such a treat to get to talk to someone who knows me. No silly small chat to break the ice!

I now will take care of some serious matters here, though. Such as why my student loan forbearance application didn't go through, how to renew my travel insurance, why I have been sick for the past month, and hitting the spa with my auntie. It's strange to have to think about these "real world" items right now after having put them off for so long (using the excuse of poor internet connection and lack of access to a telephone).