South Africa

“Travel has a way of stretching the mind. The stretch comes not from travel’s immediate rewards, the inevitable myriad new sights, smells and sounds, but with experiencing firsthand how others do differently what we believed to be the right and only way.”    – Ralph Crawshaw

South Africa is a beautiful and complicated place. I was here less than two years ago, and struck by its beauty, the scale and the climate. On this visit, I was more tuned in to the complexity of post-apartheid life, which certainly complicates my feelings about the majesty of this part of the world.

Pulling into port is a beautiful experience.

The tablecloth on Table Mountain was in place, and the sunrise reflected in the clouds.

One of the directives from our Global Studies instructor is “Keep your feet on the ground.” Pulling into a port is such a different experience than a plane landing. It is prolonged, and three-dimensional. I wake early to watch the sun break the horizon, and I walk from port to starboard to see the full range of light.



In preparation of coming to South Africa, I did movie-watching. Two films, “White Wedding”, and “You Laugh But It’s True”, captured some of the lingering attitudes and challenges still intact in South Africa. Last time I was here, I was dining with the White South Africans who were talking about the increase in danger and threats they felt, and the exodus to locales such as New Zealand and Australia as safer options for their friends.


This time, it was so different, another slice of life. We visited the District Six Museum the first day and learned about the systematic relocation of entire neighborhoods for the purpose of redistributing the most desirable real estate. The man addressing this class of visitors was one of the relocated residents.

This was in our lifetime, so recent, with the memories perhaps forgiven but not forgotten. Very sobering, and the work of Bob and Alice Evans rings as more relevant given the world of pain a people goes through, One of the texts for their course was Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s No Future Without Forgiveness.

A lot of students, faculty and staff had trips to townships, schools and orphanages scheduled here as well. Post-port reflections had some excellent comments of the harsh awareness of wealthy on one side of the highway, and the tin roofs of the townships on the other. These same divisions are at home too, but how often do we all drive by and not notice the discrepancy, or separate ourselves with whatever thoughts and words erase or comfort us?

Shopping at the Pan-African Market and Ethiopian food for lunch. Dinner out that night at a place called Mama Africa’s. Live music, authentic food, savory flavors, and good conversation.


Ah, but the beauty too, and the people we meet along the way. Our guide Delia was mixed race and went off script, talking about her frustrations with the current government. We were a group of 30 who took the garden route out to a 3 day safari at a private reserve. These businesses are expanding in South Africa, more like the experience of the San Diego animal park. There is great respect for preservation of the natural habitat and working to combat extinction among rare species. It also meant an easier space to navigate and 5 very successful jeep rides over the visit.
















This second rhino shot is for the refrigerator. So many of the pictures were animals walking away, and I could do a full slide show of animal rears if anyone is interested.



I LOVED these guys! There was a family of four, and their gait is so interesting and reflective of prehistoric ancestors.

See the baby? There is a protective instinct that zebras have. They run in circles when a prey is near, and the colorblind predators have difficulty distinguishing them.

Our room was facing east, but I woke up before 6 and walked around to the other side with the first morning light. I watched the sky for at least 20 minutes, and these are but a sampling of the amazing vistas I had. I wish I could’ve recorded the sound of birds chirping everywhere, and the distinct differences between their calls.





These beginnings make my heart soar. I love the promise of morning light. Our last safari drive did not disappoint, and it was when we saw the baby zebra.

One of my best decisions in life was to “Say Yes Enthusiastically” when the opportunity seems right, before I overthink the details. This is how I ended up spending my last Cape Town day heading off to Robben Island. Some friends had to reschedule their shark-diving expedition (awesome!), and had reserved tickets for this day. I was debating the cable ride to the top of Table Mountain, or this trip. At the breakfast table, the ticket made itself available, and off i went. On my way, I mailed out the first two post cards sent on the trip, because blogging and emails curtail the need to struggle with international mailing. I went to the Post Office to mail my absentee ballot. Whew.

This is a boat that brought prisoners to the island, a place that used to be designated for lepers.

Looking back toward Cape Town provides the unique experience of being on one World Heritage Site while gazing at another.

This local jumped on our bus. He had been one of the guards who befriended Mandela and even snuck his grandchild in for a visit.

Here is the outside view of the prison.

Inside, we met our guide, a man who had served time in these cells and has both the historical and his personal story to tell.

This photo shows men breaking stones from the quarry to the left, and the men in the back row are mending prison garb in the row behind them.

This is a view into the room where Mandela spent 27 years.


There were quite a few rooms with names and narratives. This is where the parallels to Guantanamo Bay started to sicken me. Political prisoners had no due process, and prison authorities went to great lengths to ensure that political prisoners were confronted with a loss of personal control, disorientation and isolation, arbitrary punishments, discriminatory regulations and often-cruel prison authorities.



One of the students reported that the father of someone she met had been imprisoned because as a taxi driver, he had transported both a black and white together. Punishment: six years.

Ironically, putting a bunch of critical thinkers into a closed system ended up facilitating a learning institute for the struggle against apartheid. Nelson Mandela was released in 1990, and the prison closed in 1994.

At the time of a Robben Island Reunion, Mandela revisited the quarry where he had worked, and was the first ex-prisoner to place a rock in this pile. The other returning ex-prisoners did the same. There are lots of other types of memorials, but the power of this representation really spoke to me.

I am glad for the opportunities to talk with locals who are passionate about their home and ache to see the changes necessary for economic stability and true parity. There exists both cynicism and hope in all of us. The next night, i was back on the ship for the presidential debates, and felt the same kind of feelings for our own political circumstances.

Ten days crossing to South America. Time hopefully for reflection. I am seeing a number of clients twice through this stretch, and addressing reactions to travel, acclimation to the shipboard community, and facing reality about the fact that we are on the down side of the voyage, 45 days to go.