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Dear family and friends of Shiffy and Benny, These trip reports and wonderful photos are sent by Shiffy and Benny from Internet Cafes whenever the opportunity presents itself. Not always the computer systems and keyboards out there in the world understand English very well...We all thank Shiffy and Benny for taking their time to share their wonderful experiences and adventures with us. |
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December 3 thru December 14, 2005 - From Graaf Reinet to Addo Elephant Park to Port Elizabeth to Hogsback to Coffee Bay to Umtata and finally to Port St. JohnPlease put Coffee Bay and the Wild Coast on your “Must Do” list. In Cape Town we were told not to bother with the Wild Coast because the roads are so bad and there is not much to see. This has been one of the highlights of our trip and a true authentic African experience. The roads are actually not so bad, just drive slowly and try to avoid the potholes, rocks and many animals that leisurely cross the roads. The receptionist, Zukie is sitting next to me. I hear a lot of schap, schap. I asked her what are you saying? Laughingly she answered that it is an English phrase ‘sharp, sharp’, meaning OK, but with their South African accent you hear Chap, chap. They tend to repeat words twice. Cool-cool, cheers-cheers, Full-full, good-good etc. But more about Coffee Bay and the magic of the place later, I have to catch up on a whole week of reporting. Shabbat, December 3 – additional thoughts It takes me about ten days to start feeling the heartbeat of a new country and to make it my new home. I have reached that point today. I am looking at the map, understanding where the Eastern Cape is, the Western Cape, The Free State, Lethoto, Kwazulu Natal and the rest of the provinces. I start understanding the big puzzle and the many contradictions that make up this very large country. Graaf Reinet is in the Karoo Region. Karoo means dry land. This region gets very little rain and is usually brown. However, it rained in the last two weeks and the Karoo turned green. Xolile was teaching us the triple handshake, symbolizing peace, harmony and pleasure; this will be very useful as we are going to meet many Xhosa people. Xolile loves to talk about his circumcision and the beautiful black ring that you get after the ceremony. The boys who were recovering in the hills, covered their bodies with white clay, a sign of childhood, foolishness, that will be washed away when they are back in the village. The tents where they spent the last days of their childhood will be burned away. I am puzzled by the work of the churches and the various missionaries in the townships and in Africa in general. Why does a township of 8000 poor Xhosa residents need to have 22 different churches? True, the churches did a lot for the “natives”. They educated them, but at the same time, converted them to Christianity, and in the process robbed the blacks of their own culture. In addition, the Christians believed that they were superior people who would save the souls of the natives, and that was the beginning of the discrimination that later led to apartheid. The Xhosa culture worships the spirit of the ancestors. Why is believing in one god, superior to believing in one’s own ancestors? It is logical to believe that the spirits of your ancestors are watching over you. So now, after apartheid, why do they continue flocking into the churches? Why don’t they feel resentment toward the churches? One of the reasons that make sense to me is that there were very few professions that were available for black people: teachers, priests and nurses. There are many black priests today and the churches serve as the community centers. We walked into a township church and the singing, clapping, raised hands and devotion moved my heart. Such beautiful voices. Christianity is what they were brought up with and what they know. According to Xolile, their culture is 50/50 Christianity and Xhosa. When I told Jacqui that Xolile told us about the township lights that were put there to control the area, she told me that I will hear different stories, depending on who tells the story. She said that the streetlights were actually put in by the Africkaans government to supply light for the township. They were put very high so that the residents could not break them. So every story has more than one version… Jacqui told me that when you mention Xhosa to a Zulu, they spit. The Zulu say that the Xhosa are the dirt of the earth. During the fighting between the Zulu and the Xhosa, the Zulu slaughtered many Xhosa men. Jacqui also said that during the years of apartheid, they had no idea what was going on. The news was controlled by the government. They were led to believe that the black communities were full of rapists, murderers and people who didn’t care for their kids. Jacqui could not understand why the nanny who raised her could not use the house dishes and had to have her own dishes. Jacqui makes sure that her boys get a broad education and learn about different cultures. She loves South Africa and will never consider leaving the country. She is very sympathetic to the black situation and tries to do as much as she can to help the locals. It is an exciting time to be in this country, see history as it is unfolding and observe how each group is coping with their new reality. We stayed at Jacqui and Steve’s home until 11:00 pm, emailing all our photos. They are a very special family and there is so much love in their home. Sunday, December 4 It is Gary’s birthday and I wished him Happy B-day in my heart. We were nowhere near a phone at the right time and I did not want to call him in the middle of the night. As I was practicing my yoga this morning, a police truck stopped next to our tent. A handsome policeman stepped out and asked, “Did you sleep well last night?” Taking a second look, I recognized Jacqui’s husband, Steve. “I thought that I would take you for a ride around town this morning.” We were ready in five minutes, and hopped into the truck next to Steve. The first stop was at a pyramid shaped monument on top of a hill that was built in 1910 to represent the four provinces at that time: Natal-facing east, Transvaal- facing north, Cape Colony- facing south and Orange Free State, facing west. From the hill you can see the green valley where the white people live, the black township and the colored (South Africans use ‘colored’ to describe people of mixed descent) area. During the Apartheid regime, there were designated areas for whites, colored and blacks. The next stop is at a monument that was built to honor a brave Afrikaan who lived in town. There was a war between the English and the Boers (Dutch), and many British were massacred here by the Boers, who used guerilla tactics. Today, the government does not support Afrikaans monuments and the place is littered with trash and broken glass. Next stop is a large interesting house where the movie “The Red Dust” was filmed. We are now driving through the township. Steve is pointing at many new developments that were built for the people. They all have working toilets, running water and electricity. He knows all the people and they know him. He knows every house and what is happening in it. He knows where the illegal drinking is happening, they make their own alcohol. I sensed mutual respect on both sides. He has been in the police force for twenty years. Steve points at a metal squat. “The elderly woman in this squat owns three homes in the township”. A squat guarantees you a home; she gets homes and rents them out, preferring to live in a squat. Drinking is a major problem in the black and colored township. Men drink and then get violent. They all carry knives. Another problem is that they exploit their own people and charge 50% interest in the stores. We are moving to the colored area. We see some nice houses and nice gardens. Steve points to a nice garden and says, “This man is ‘house proud’. I like that phrase, house proud. There is a community project called Mandela Park, built of ash bricks. The colored speak Afrikaans. It was the language that was given to them by the white people. The blacks refuse to speak Afrikaans. Black people speak Xhosa and English. The black and the colored communities do not get along. Steve points at a store that was opened by an Afghani family. The locals are giving them a hard time, slashing the tires of their cars and throwing rocks at the windows. We make a quick stop at a home where a woman has a restraining order against her husband. Her husband can only come into the home accompanied by a policeman. He is already waiting for Steve. He needs to get clothes from the house. Steve pointed at a large area in the valley below. It used to be a farm and many of the locals worked there. However, they stole the crops and the farmer stop growing them. I asked Steve, how he can tell the difference between the blacks and the colored. He said, by the hair. Black people’s hair does not grow long. The women spend days in salons adding attachments to their hair. I never knew. Looking around, I see a lot of housing projects, money is being poured into the area. Time for the people to do more for themselves. I wonder why there are no more gardens next to homes. Why so many men spend their days drinking. When Steve’s phone rang, he spoke Afrikaans. Back in the city, Steve is very proud showing us the Police Academy and the obstacle course. A very impressive facility. We pass another community project, homes that were built for poor whites and are now being bought by the colored. There is a very wealthy Mr. Rupert in town who buys a lot of art. His ranch is 37 km on the short side. Steve has been with the police for twenty years now. He has a lot of training and he applied for a promotion to become a captain. His salary is 109,000R per year. His salary is posted in all the local papers. He has no chance of being promoted in a big city so he is applying in small towns. So far he has not been successful. 90% of the promotions go to black people, 8% to the colored and only 2% of the promotions will be awarded to whites. His main concern is to save enough for good universities for his boys. We are going to leave Graaf Reinet today. Time to say Good Bye to our neighbor in the caravan camp who speaks Afrikaans to her three poodles. She is staying here for few months, she is alone in the camp all day, her husband works in construction in the area. They also put a large tent up for their workers. This morning we heard commotion from their direction. She told me that two of the workers came to work drunk. Graaff Reinet is a beautiful town with great historical buildings, wide streets, perfect weather. I hope that one day, there will be people walking in the streets in the evenings, people sitting in sidewalk cafes, promenades and blacks, coloreds and whites will enjoy the potential of this great town. We are heading toward Addo Elephant Park, and tonight we will put up our tent at Homestead B&B. On the way, we encountered some African men driving a tractor. Their four front teeth were missing. I learned that they pull out the four front teeth because the teeth are very long and they prefer the toothless look. Interesting. Homestead B&B looks like a little paradise and is owned by an older couple. It has the most beautiful garden, colorful flowers, farm, cows, horses and vegetable garden. Inside the house is tastefully decorated with antique furniture and artwork. I picked a few flowers to add to our salad tonight. Monday, December 5 I have started to distinguish the sounds of the different birds, and I wish that I knew which bird made which sound. We left early for Addo Elephant Park, so that we could catch the animals before it gets too hot. It is a very large park. It takes six hours to drive through the park at 40 km/hr. We drive very slowly, scanning the dense bushes. Benny can drive and spot the animals. They blend in so well with the branches and the background. We see kudos, warthogs, buffalos, rhinos, huge turtles, piles of elephant droppings, but where are the elephants??? There are 400 elephants in this park. And just about the time when I was ready to declare that this safari business—of driving slowly and trying to spot animals—is not for me, they appeared!! Ten, twenty, thirty maybe even forty. They were splashing mud on themselves, playing around, climbing on each other. The elephants later moved to the bushes to eat. They eat a whole branch right off of a tree. We later saw them dipping into a pool and washing all the mud off. They entered the pool clay color and came out dark gray. Driving on we saw elephants in all directions. At one time our car was surrounded by elephants. They move in families. Mama, papa and one or two young ones. In spite of their size, they move very gracefully and with an aura of importance. We were glued to the sight and could not move. It is so special to see those large animals in their natural surroundings. It was a beautiful sight and a great day. On the way out of the park we stopped at a bird watching station where we saw many Red Bishops, Cape Weavers and Cape Robins. Port Elizabeth was not a part of our plan, but we have to drive to this large city. Our air mattress is losing air. We go to sleep on a full mattress, and in the morning, when one of us gets up, the other is on the ground. We bought our equipment at Cape Union Mart and they have a store in Port Elizabeth. They will replace the mattress for us. Also, one of the poles of the tent cracked. So they replaced the mattress and we replaced the two-person tent for a three-person one. When we asked someone for directions to the shopping center he asked if we were tourists. “Let me give you some safety tips, put your cell phone away, they will snatch it from your car, do not leave anything in the car, stay away from central and be careful.” And instead of giving us directions, he drove in front of us for about 15 minutes and brought us to the shopping center. Equipped with a new tent and mattress we go on to our next destination, Hogsback. On the way, we pass Grahamstown, a historical city where the British joined the Dutch to fight the Xhosa. They defeated the Xhosa, they had much superior weapons. Driving through the mountains, passing large ranches with cows and sheep. Here and there you can see a few squats, where the workers live. Hogsback is at 1200 meters and the mountains around, or the Hogsbacks, are at 2000 meters. Green luscious valleys and indigenous forests below. Our tent will stand at “Away with the Ferries” backpacker. The view from our tent is amazing and we took many pictures. Benny tells me that he could stay here for a long time. Tonight we sleep in our larger yellow tent. There is extra space in the tent; we now have a “living room”. It was a good thing because it rained all night and I could do my morning yoga in my new living room. Tuesday, December 6 As we were hiking around Hogsback today, I was thinking that South Africa is blessed with so many natural gifts, water, indigenous plants, animals, birds, gold, diamonds and much more that I still did not discover, but the country is so troubled. Every day we meet local people who do not paint a good picture about the situation here. A Presbyterian priest and his 14-year old daughter were camping in the tent next to ours. He is a man of God, who must keep faith, but it sounds as if he is losing faith in the future of this country. He said that SA is going in the same path as Zimbabwe. Many farmers had been attacked and already lost their land, but the news did not make the papers. They do not want to get land; they only want well established farms. In Zimbabwe, they divided the farms and gave it to the locals and after one season all the farms were gone. They did not have the knowledge to keep up a farm. The priest continued telling us that the problem is that black people from other countries are coming to SA. They are coming from the neighboring countries, Zimbabwe, Uganda, Nigeria. There are now 12 millions illegal immigrants; 4 million of them are from Zimbabwe. They are coming for the wrong reasons. They are not coming to work. They deal in drugs and crime and prostitution. Some of the Nigerian recruit young girls for prostitution and selling drugs. They are armed and the police are afraid to deal with them. The new government is sympathetic to their plight. The new government adopted a policy to go back to basics. Pass one pass all. No failure. So they lowered all the standards. 35% is a passing grade in school and you have to go to court to fail a student. The same situation is in hospitals, lower standards. After the riots in Black schools in Johannesburg, the government moved the students to the Colored and Indian schools. The Colored and Indians moved to the White areas and the Whites moved to private schools. The government, the officials are corrupt. In the Eastern Cape Providence, 300 million Rand are missing and nobody is held accountable. There is no system, no authority. It is frightening; the money is being squandered away, going into some politician’s pocket. Many people that he knows have left for Australia and New Zealand. In J’burg, an armored car was pushed off the road by 7 cars and about 20 guys robbed the car. He is very worried about the World Cup that is scheduled for 2010. He does not trust the officials to organize it properly. The 10% white population in SA, is the main financial resource for the masses of black people. He is a man of faith, but he lost his faith for the future of his home. People come to Hogsback for the hiking, forests, and waterfalls. The area has many well-marked trails. We took a great hike today. The dog from the backpackers was following us the whole way. Back in the camp we had a great dinner and Benny lit the fireplace. Everyone was reading. The sun came down and clouds covered the mountains. Wednesday, December 7 I did my yoga this morning in the lobby, facing the large window with a spectacular view of the green mountains. The room still smelled from last night’s fire. The girl from South Africa gave me a rusk for my coffee. Rusk is local favorite, like a dry biscuit you dunk in the coffee until it gets soggy. The housekeeper comes in to clean. Her face is painted with white cream. I notice that many of them paint their face white. When I asked her why they do it, she said that white is nice. Today we are taking a major hike to the Big Tree and the Madonna Waterfall. The big trees here are the Yellowwood trees. We are walking through the indigenous forests. It is a hot day, but it is shady and cool in the forest. We cross rivers over slippery rocks. Benny does not slow down and I wonder how many more years I will be able to walk like this. We saw a beautiful bird Knysna Lourie. Big blue bird with a crown, and when it flies, it flaps its large red wings. Along the way we meet Carolyn from Australia. She is also at our campsite and traveling alone, in the company of her stuffed lion. She takes photos of her lion wherever she goes. In the afternoon we went to explore the artists in the area. We drove for a while on an unpaved road. How do people get there? Our car barely made it. Our first stop was the Ecoshrine, a creation of one woman, Diana Graham. Her home is on a hillside overlooking the three Hogsbacks. She works with cement, tiles, glass and paint. Her creation demonstrates the harmony between man and the universe. Next stop, The Edge, where they have an interesting labyrinth and a lookout point from the cliff, where you understand why they name their place “The Edge”. We later visited two potteries. Both are in very remote areas. The local artists use the local red clay. The work is very basic, but apparently there is a ceremonial aspect to their work. We spend the evening in the lobby warmed by the fireplace, where we enjoy a lively discussion with all the young campers. Thursday, December 8 It rained most of the night and day. We spend most of the day in the lobby talking to the many other campers who were stranded like us. Rowan, the professor from J’sbourg University who is traveling with three of his past students, the mountain climber from Montana, the girls from Germany, young people from South Africa, a guy from Scotland, the girl from Holland. We just talked and talked and kept the fire going all night. When there was a short break in the rain, we went out and enjoyed the many monkeys on the trees. All of a sudden, two large dogs emerged from one of the gates and a large dog bit Benny on the lower part of the leg. Benny chased the dog to his owner, the police came and the dog is going to be shot. Back in the camp, everyone was concerned about Benny. Benny cleaned and covered the wound with antiseptic cream and it is bandaged. Time for dinner and back to the lobby, where there was lots of laughing and giggling with the young crowd. A new handsome guy from NY just arrived and he is joining the group. Friday, December 9, Erev Shabbat I got up at 4:30 am. It was very cold last night, but the rain finally stopped. I was reading in the lobby, when the sun came up over the mountains. Jessica came at 6:00 am to join me for yoga. When I came back to my tent, I saw the pretty girl and the new handsome guy from NY emerging from the same tent. Today we are driving toward the Wild Coast, or the Transkei Region, to Coffee Bay. We stopped at King William’s Town for ATM and grocery shopping. The nice black man who gave us directions advised us “be careful, I wish we could lock up all the bad guys”. The town is mostly blacks. The main street is very crowded with people shopping and selling and just hanging around. We continued the drive, and from here on, we are in the real Africa. All around us are black villages, or as they are called, Lallies. All the drivers and passengers in the cars are blacks. No more large ranches or townships. Now we see small houses, animals next to the house, sometimes a little garden. We pass Qunu, the birthplace of Nelson Mandela. This is Xhosa land and they came from the north in 1700. This is the Africa that I wanted to see. The land has never been divided up into privately owned plots. So the Transkei is the only part left in SA, where you can be part of the “real” Aftica with functional tribal law and structure. We see traditional rondvaal homes, traditional clothing. Some people are wrapped with blankets, women carrying water on their heads. The name Coffee Bay derived from an accident in 1852, when a ship carrying a cargo load of coffee beans crashed into the bay, and coffee trees started growing in the area. Coffee Bay is in the heart of the Wild Coast, surrounded by rolling hills with three rivers flowing through the valleys into the sea. Miles of white beaches backed by cliffs. The huts, or rondvaal are made of mud and grass bricks for the walls and the roofs of poles and thatched grass. Many of the homes are light green. A tire is placed at the peak of a roof filled with mud and decorated with shells or plastic to prevent birds from sitting on the house. The green color of the houses is from a particular limestone, which is crushed to powder and mixed with the mud wall. Most families here keep cows, pigs, goats, horses, sheep and chickens. The cattle are the indicator of a family’s wealth. All staff at the Coffee Shack Backpackers are locals, except Dawn the manager. Young kids hang around the fence, selling drugs. When I mentioned it to Dawn she told me that they sell mushrooms and marijuana and added, “there is 80% unemployment here and it is a way for them to make money. We allow marijuana smoking on the premises.” I would not know the difference anyway. What puzzles me is that all these young campers travel on a budget and do not have much money, but every night they are at the bar drinking. I bet that their bar tab is larger than the costs of accommodation. Coffee Shack and the place across the road, Bonvu Backpackers are very “in” places for young people. Lots of interesting characters, the kind I was expecting to meet in India. Girls with lots of beading and guys drumming, all wrapped with colorful clothes. In ten days there will be a “New Beginning” festival at the Bonvu Backpacker with 2000 expected guests. In the tent next to ours we see David and his partner. We met them at Graaff Reinet. It is like a family reunion and we had many interesting conversations with them. Tonight we are going to have dinner with a Xhosa family at their home. The 4x4 truck from the camp drives us and a few other guests up the hill. The road is unpaved and the truck is struggling to climb uphill. We stopped at the very top. We are accompanied by a young local man who works at the Coffee Shack. A crowd of young kids, all bare foot follow us. From the top we can see the Indian Ocean behind the rolling hills. At the top, there are four rondvaals, we are invited into the one that belongs to the headman. The place is full of women and children. We are later told that many men work in the cities, many of them are away from their homes for a year. The women work incredibly hard to keep the family going. They take care of the plowing, sowing and harvesting of the crops. Fetching wood, water and food and caring for the kids, parents and animals. The headman will come soon. Outside there are sheep, chickens, large plots of corn. I am surprised by how large the home is inside. It does not look large from the outside. There is no running water, electricity or gas. Toilets? The young guest was asking; just go over there, behind the trees. The kids are adorable, a bit shy. Well behaved and look happy. They grow in a community. We are told that the headman will not be able to come, but other men will be there. Inside, the women start singing, loud, clear, confident voices. Someone is on the drum and the young kids join the singing and start dancing. They shake their bodies, stepping hard with their bare feet on the floor. They are wearing only small short pieces of cloth wrapped around the waist; the young girls are very developed. Later the young men danced, holding a stick in their hands, making animal-like sounds. Hoo, hoo…Women were taking turns leading songs, drumming, nursing babies, cleaning the sweat off the kids, helping them wrap the cloth around, clapping and keeping the spirit going. When it got dark, a small kerosene lamp was the only source of light. Dinner was a dish of sugar beans and crushed corn and another dish made of green leaves that they pick in the mountains. The corn-bean dish is called umnqusho and I learn that that is what they eat every day. Everything tasted very good and healthy to me. Two large containers of beer were going around. I pass it on; everyone drinks from the same cup. Our guide is very disappointed that Benny does not drink. When all the beer was finished, I notice the little kid, maybe five years old, tipping the cup over to his mouth, trying to squeeze the last drops of beer. We are told that a woman’s job is to make beer. But the beer belongs to the man. It is made of corn or as it is called here, muzie. Some beer is spilled on the floor for the ancestors. Ancestors are worshipped here, we are told, and that is before they knew the bible. After dinner we were asking questions with the translating assistant of our guide. A man can have as many women as he can buy. Usually no more than five. A woman’s price is 13 cows. Her price can vary depending on her worth, if she can milk a cow, can cook and can grow vegetable garden, she is worth more. We were asked to sing a song to them. We were a mixed crowd and nobody seemed to come up with a song. So I got up and led everyone with “head, shoulder knees and toes,” the rooster dance and “you put your right hand in…”, and everyone had a good time. On the way home, the kids were following our truck and with their bare feet, in the dark, they kept up with us for a long way. Back in the Coffee Shack, there was a dinner of delicious soup for those who did not eat the Xhosa food. Benny and I are so impressed with this place. The place is clean, the bathrooms are beautiful with interesting mosaics, the grounds are clean and the staff is very friendly. They are also involved in a lot of community projects. They sponsor the local choir, raise money for the school and run workshops for the kids. There was lots of drumming in the camp across the road. I was so tired; I fell asleep to the sound of the drums. Shabbat. December 10 What shall we do today? Hike to the Hole in the Wall, to the caves, go to the Shelly Beach, to the Umtata River or just walk around? Benny got me a computer to write so I will spend the day writing with the fun office staff: Zukie and Thobisa, both are Xhosa. When they talk, I hear click, click. Dawn, the manager will leave in March, she wants to complete her education as a Montessori teacher and come back to the area and open a Montessori school here. There is a lot of funding for English speaking schools in this area. In the evening, a group of local girls came to entertain us. The children are encouraged to earn money for work and not to beg. They were very good and obviously practiced a lot. They all wore the same skirts, bead necklaces, decorated their chest and they sang in Xhosa and English. It is Saturday night and the bar is very busy, a game is going on. I hear lots of laughing and shouting. Someone explained to me that this is the “drinking game,” there are many versions of the game and I hear people yelling “buffalo”. Whoever makes a mistake must finish his cup. So last night the bar did very well. Later we heard drumming, singing, and in spite of the ongoing party, we slept very well. Sunday, December 11 This morning the camp is very quiet. Only the 30+ are up. Benny is high on the hammock reading and watching the weavers who are nested in the tree above. Benny’s leg is healing and he is fine. The garden is full of tents. I counted eleven this morning. This is a very popular place; they are at full capacity and turn backpackers away to other facilities. In the morning a few guys were complaining about their high bar tab. Many local kids (24-28) come here for the party atmosphere. Coffee Bay is a kind of place that you just want to stay in and not do much. Clair and Simon have been here for over a month. She is making beautiful necklaces using knots and stones. She is telling me that she learned it from the Israelis. Both Claire and Simon have dreadlocks and look very hippie-ish. Claire is a nomad. Her tent and mother-earth is her home. Lots of interesting characters here. This morning we took a three hour walk along the “wild coast”, passing many small villages. The wind was blowing fiercely as we made our way back to camp. The staff is putting up X-mas decorations. Benny asked “what about Hanukkah decorations?” Of course they do not have any. We asked for colored paper, scissors and glue and I cut few menorahs that are now hanging on the walls. I tried to log into the Internet, Gmail finally came up, but I could not log into my mail. They say it is their phone in this remote place. Simon told me to try the email in Umtata, on our way to Port St. Jones. A bus loaded with a new crowd arrived to Coffee Shack. One couple looks our age. We immediately are drawn toward each other. Janice and Bob are exactly our age and they are retired teachers from Idaho. They volunteered for two years with the Peace Corps and are working in a small village near Pretoria. They do not have running water in the house and the winter nights get very cold and the summer days are very hot. It is going to be another busy night in the bar and around the pool table. Sounds like another “drinking game” is going on. Monday, December 12 Smoke is rising from last night’s fire. Empty wine and beer bottles, cigarette butts, messy kitchen. It is very windy outside. The river is low, the ocean waves are very high. The wind was blowing all day. We took a walk around the “wild coast” and at one point we were on a very narrow path on the side of the mountain, with the ocean down below and the wind started howling and blowing so hard. We did the rest of the way leaning on the mountain and I was glad to be back in camp. The wind was blowing so hard, we spent the rest of the day in the lobby, reading and talking. Drinking games last until 2:00 am and there were a few drunk kids here. Tuesday, December 13 I was very cold last night; I put on another layer of clothes and wore my heavy jacket. The weather changes very fast in this region. I spend the day talking to Claire and Simon and later to Boaz and Gabriel from Israel. Benny is reading in the garden and through his binocular, watching the bright yellow weavers making their nest-basket. Claire is part of the Rainbow people of the world. I am getting an important education and I will try to quote Claire as much as I remember: “Rainbow is a movement that started in the US in Woodstock. A gathering of mind-like people. Most of them have dread-locks. They call each other brother or sister. There is no discrimination of any level. You are a soul, we all are souls. The Rainbow gatherings are holistic gatherings. No meat, drugs or alcohol and no leaders. Drugs do not include mushrooms. Marijuana or acid. Mushrooms are being used by shamanic healers and bring you close to the divine world. You come to the rainbow gathering as a child, with spoon, bowl and cup. The gathering lasts one month. Most of the people are nomadic, move around the world. They belong to mother earth. No ownership, no policy, no control. Energy flows. There is a lot of trans music and dancing”. Simon and Claire are busy making jewelry; they make a living selling their jewelry. Claire introduced me to Boaz, an Israeli young man who lives in the camp across the road, teaches yoga and does massages. I had a long interesting discussion with Boaz. He believes that the mission of the Jews is to bring peace to the world and until there is no peace in Israel, there will be no peace in the world. Cilas was born and raised in Coffee Bay. He is very charming, speaks English well, plays the drums and also makes drums. The drums are made of sisal tree. Looks like a big cactus. (Tequila is made from the sisal tree). He uses goat hides for the drums and puts everything together with rings and knots. In the afternoon a group of us went with Cilas, who works here to the village, to visit his family and other homes in the village. We met his mother, father, sisters, brothers, and were surprised to learn that he has a small daughter. They all sat in front of the house, the kids were playing, and the girls were dancing. They looked happy and content in their little community. Cilas’s daughter is raised by his mother and sister. His girlfriend did not want to raise her. The family has cows, sheep, mule, chickens and corn, beans and spinach in the garden. His parents never went to school and do not read or write. Their faces were painted with white or red clay. Protection from the sun. Cilas’s sister painted my face with red clay. We met a woman who was building her home. She was paving the floor and walls with cow manure. We stopped at the school. All the windows and doors were broken. We also visited a local Shabeen, illegal pub, where we were served with the local beer, fermented corn, or as it is called here, millie or muzie. A little boy was sliding down the hill in a broken plastic box. They look happy and content, living in their village, with their community. How are they affected by the white travelers who come with cameras, cell phones and western culture? Now, after practicing my Xhosa clicks, I learn that there are actually three different kinds of clicks. I am ready to give up. We will be in Zulu land in few days, and they do not speak Xhosa there. Wednesday, December 14 Last morning in Coffee Bay. I had some of my best yoga practice here, early mornings on the hard wet flat sand. Some local boys are filling large baskets with sand. Others are making drum rings. We took a morning walk on the beautiful beach. We had great time here. The facility is great, good kitchen and we were able to cook gourmet meals every day. Time to say goodbye to Janice and Dan, the Peace Corp volunteers, Frank and David, the gay couple, Ron and Muler from Cape Town, and many more kids from Norway, and the office staff. Our next stop is Port St. John. On the way we will stop at Umtata, to go shopping and stop at an Internet cafe. Nelson Mandela’s Museum is in this town. Back to main page and index of daily reports |
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The text above was written in the form of Email trip reports by Shiffy and Benny and arranged for web publishing by their friend Amnon with only minimal amount of editting...
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