The Emancipation

7-JANUARY: It’s 2010 and I’m finally back from vacation. Before I forget,

IF YOU SENT ME A PACKAGE AND IT IS RETURNED TO YOU, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN AT LEAST THANK YOU AND APOLOGIZE ON BEHALF OF THE SOUTH AFRICAN POST OFFICE FOR NEVER TELLING ME IT CAME. THE POST OFFICE AND I AREN’T EXACTLY ON THE FRIENDLIEST OF TERMS AND THEY REFUSE TO TELL ME WHO THE MYSTERY PERSON IS.

So holiday was fun in the sun. We did part of the Sunshine Coast, all of the Wild Coast, and the teensiest bit of Zululand (Port Elizabeth-East London-Cintsa-Coffee Bay-Port Saint John’s-Durban) and I’ve never seen anything more spectacular in my life. It was pretty much the same scenic view for over 8 hours straight-lush, rolling hills with Xhosa villages scattered throughout, shepherds herding their sheep, and hitchhikers, lots of hitchhikers-but it felt like I was seeing it for the first time the entire way.

About a month ago I was acting very typically me and drowned my digital camera in water, so the only one I had was the dinky excuse for one I have on my phone. I thought it was blasphemous to try to capture the beauty of the drive on 3.2 megapixels so I took next to no pictures and consequently don’t remember a lot of my vacation (I guess my state of sobriety, or lack thereof, also had something to do with it.) But here are some highlights that stick out in my head:

PE: went clubbing with a mobster, danced with fettucine alfredo, bribed someone with a meatball sub

EL: had shoes stolen during Carnaval weekend, passed out in a sand dune

Cintsa: met Pushkin whose evil spirit then followed us all the way to Pretoria and even continued its journey to Kate’s village 200k outside of Vryberg

CB: spotted my first Koreans. I knew immediately. There was a family crouched in the rocks of the oceans slapping crustaceans and crabs with their shoes which they immediately consumed afterward. And granny wore a Texas-sized visor Robocop would’ve been jealous of-now if that doesn’t epitomize “Korean” then I don’t know what does, played Xhosa drums by a fire pit and jammed out

PSJ: drank sulphur in a cave, did laundry by MACHINE

Durban: was eaten alive by mosquitoes (I’m pretty sure every single mosquito in Durban took a turn biting me at least once during my stay), spent New Year’s Eve dancing at Taco Zulu with free drinks and food, and visited the TOURIST JUNCTION!!!!

If you’re ever in Durban, this is where you want to be. No one goes to the tourist junction to find out about touristy things because you won’t really, but it’s super nice-the best bathrooms in Durban fully stocked with the finest TP, nice sofas, and great company. After some trouble with our backpackers, Kate and I were left homeless and the tourist junction guy offered his place (even after he though we were making fun of Apartheid-which we weren’t-just your typical miscommunication), helped us find cheap hotels and hostels, and even told us what we needed to do if we wanted to sleep at the tourist junction which was the first option we inquired about. (This place is seriously nice and has tons of empty offices where we could’ve pitched our tent with minimal disturbance to visiting tourists. We even offered to tidy the place up and bring them morning coffee.) Unfortunately, the mayor was out of town and we could not arrange a meeting with him to ask for permission to stay in the tourist junction for the night. Man, it is the best.

Now I’m home. My body acclimatized to my spoiling it with daily showers and began producing oil again like it would on a clean person, which I am no longer. Until my body gets used to village Zita (3L of water a week on bathing), as opposed to city Zita (15min showers a day), I’m going to be stank to the max.

13-JANUARY: Mom's Bday!