The Small Stuff

Jess writes:

As you read this, Adam and I will arriving back across the pond, to that home that we left exactly one year ago today. As Adam described in the previous post, this decision was one of our toughest and, since I’m writing this post prior to our actual departure, I won’t attempt to make any conjectures at our current thoughts or emotions. Rather, I would like to conclude our blog with a post dedicated almost entirely to our fellow PCVs, in addition to serving as a reminder of that those memories that I will bring back home with me.

It’s true, as the saying goes, that "you shouldn’t sweat the small stuff" – that is, if they’re the tough parts. But if I had to choose just one thing that a year in South Africa has taught me, it’s that the ‘small stuff’, at least the happy bits, are the things that often get me through the day. And when I’m literally sweating – drenched from head to toe in front of a not-so-functional fan – it is this 'small stuff' that makes me smile and reminds me why this place will forever have a spot in my heart and mind.

So, to all our friends still in South Africa, and to our future selves, I give you my entirely haphazard and potentially nonsensical listing of the ‘small stuff’…

African Time. Baby cows, baby donkeys, baby goats… baby everythings! Coombie rides when you get the front row seat with all the leg room and space for groceries, packs, and other belongings. The sky – its vastness, its bright blue, its enormous clouds that seem to be only a few meters out of reach of your hands. Tea breaks at work. The sound of marshmallow frogs croaking before the rain comes. Care packages. Waves and smiles from total strangers. Casually walking alongside herds of cattle on our walks through town. The smell of litchis as we pass the citrus groves. Gray skies on a hot, hot, hot day. Greeting our friends and coworkers at Thembalethu each morning. Our conversations with our two-year old host brother. Brownies… yes, the batter and the final product. The color green – the unimaginable and innumerable colors of green after the rains come – the pale green of the acacia trees, the goldeny-greens of the whispy sugar canes, the bright green of the banana plants, the soft and endless greens of the hills, the dark greens of the shrubs and cacti, the everywhere greens of Nkomazi during the Summertime. A pit latrine without any flies. Hearing mothers say “Sorry sesi” [sister] or “Sorry bhuti” [brother] to their little babes when something goes awry. Our quirky, little, two-room home. The drive to and from Malelane, with the most incredible views of the foothills, mountains, sugar cane fields, and banana plant farms. Doing little chores together – scrubbing the dishes or washing our laundry – the tediousness, lengthiness and frustration of the process that gives us a sense of some small, well-earned achievement. Monkeys hiding in the groves alongside R570. The soft touch of our host mother’s hand when she reaches out after a joke or story.Waking up to a house that is dry after a nighttime storm. Short lines at the post office. Hearts and Spades, while listening to our card soundtrack of The Fleet Foxes and The Fits & Tantrums. Red dirt roads. Our house lizards, when they do their job and catch the cockroaches. The enormous eyes of the Crèche kids as they stare up into your face. Our thermometer – when it reads anything less than 36C. The feeling of sitting directly in front of a fan, on high. Successful meetings with project staff. The shy laugh of our teenage, host brother. Getting free rides from random workers who want to meet the new, white people. Actually needing the comforter on cooler evenings… and sleeping in on cooler mornings. The sound of birds at dawn (excluding the roosters). The smell of the air and the ground when the rains have passed. The gloriousness that is Kraft Mac n’ Cheese sent from home. Our walk to work together – getting time to chat about our projects, our service, our plans, and life in general. The excitement of community members when we try, never-so-successfully, to converse with them in SiSwati. Dried mud that you don’t have to sink into on your walk home. Pot-popped popcorn. End of the month text messages to say we’ve been paid… and even better, that we got our quarterly MTA with it. Our host father’s deep, throaty, chuckle. The accomplishment felt when all the water buckets, jugs and basins have been filled for the day. The sound of the main road in Schoemansdal when there are no cars in early morning. When the internet symbol on our phone says 3G. The sound of ritual drum sessions in the distance as evening approaches. Commiserating and celebrating with fellow volunteers. The feeling of the cool breezes that blow just before a big storm. The smell of laundry drying on the line. Women walking home with their firewood twigs atop their head. Meeting in our shopping towns with fellow volunteers for the luxuries of a flush toilet, a shower, air conditioning, Chinese food & sushi, and a movie that is not on a computer screen. The immense curiosity of children in our watches. Bakkies filled to the brim with family, friends and coworkers on the way back from the fields. The surge of excitement when the electricity comes back on. Eggs and hashbrowns for dinner. Hopping into freshly-washed sheets after a long, refreshing bucket bath. The slow, overly-enunciated greeting of the fruit and vegetable lady at the end of our road each morning, en route to work. Sleeping under our mosquito net, protected from all the big, bad bugs that Africa has to offer. Questions about America (“No, we are not close friends with Obama or Beyonce.”) The yellow and purples flowers on the hillside. Our fellow SA21s. Toothless Gogos. Huge, thunderous, thunderstorms (when the house isn’t flooding). Travelling anywhere here. Little ones – the littlest of them – staring silently in awe of your complete non-Africanness. Our host brother and sisters’ faces when we gave them their Christmas bikes. Sunsets over the mountains facing Swaziland. The stars – the bright, bright, bright stars… Okay then, goodnight South Africa.

Before ending this post, I’ll add just one last thought – actually, a quote from a fellow Peace Corps couple that COSed at the end of 2010, a quote that I feel sums up much of what I am unable to quite put into words at this time – he wrote: “…so if it happens that we don’t seem to be 100% there, or if one of us is looking off into the distance when there’s nothing really to be seen… please be patient with us.” And I speak quite truthfully for myself when saying, as many of our RPCV friends have, that I may feel as if I am living in more than one place, at least for a while… Because even though South Africa may never have become the ‘home’ that we were hoping for on that first flight over, there is so very much of it that has found a place it can call ‘home’ in me.

Salani kahle everyone… we’ll see you on the other side.

And So it Was, that Schmutz and Bobo’s Great Adventure Came to an End…

Adam writes:

So Jess and I have some big news, and I mean ‘Rhinoceros big’. We have decided to end our service with Peace Corps and come home. I know that this news probably comes as a shock to most of you and so I wanted to write this post to shed some light on this decision and how we came to make it.

As those of you who have been actively been keeping up with this blog have probably noticed, Jess has written 90% of the posts. It is true that Jess enjoys the process of blogging more than myself, but this has mostly been a practical application of the rule, “If you don’t have anything good to say, say nothing at all.” That is not to say that I have nothing good to say about this country or our time here, rather, for a long time now I have been unhappy and have not felt motivated to write much.

I have felt for a long time now that I have been simply “spinning my wheels”. So much changed over the three years we applied that I didn’t even see till I was here for awhile. For the first time in a long time I had been excited about the future and motivated to begin it. This, I thought, was simply the first step. After this, culinary school and then the world! I have been looking for a project to get interested in and sink my teeth into ever since. I have been helping Jess in the meantime here and there but for the most part I have had little to do here.

Coupled with having little to do here is the fact that there is nothing to do here. In our after work hours, our activities are limited to household chores and movies on the computer. There is some socializing with other volunteers on the weekends, and occasionally we get to travel (and traveling in this country has been amazing), but for the most part we sit.

I became frustrated, to say the least, and Jess and I spent more and more time discussing ways that I could find some amount of meaning and purpose here. Over time we began to discuss the difference between simply making it through and enjoying our time here. In the end we both realized that for me it would never be the latter. I had started exhibiting symptoms that indicated that my unhappiness and anger were beginning to border on something worse.

It needs to be said here that my wife is the most amazing person I have ever known. If she were here on her own, she would have easily finished her service and contributed remarkably to our organization. She is exceptionally good at what she does. She has also been amazingly supportive. I on the other hand have been a pain in the ass at the best of times and unbearable at the worst. She has stood by me and offered her support through it all.

The discussion of what is best for us in terms of our future with Peace Corps had been ongoing for the last several months. We discussed all sorts of options ranging from me just sucking it up and finishing, to me returning and her finishing, to our leaving together. In the end we decided that the best thing for us was to come home together.

Over the last several months I have received a great deal of support from a few other PCV’s in helping me to find some meaning here and yet were always adamant that I needed to do what was best for me. To those PCV’s, and I hope you know who you were, thank you.

As we reached our decision and since there have been several things, both large and small, that have seemed serendipitous. There were random occurrences that seemed to be telling us we needed to be going home, and there have been many things that seem to be telling us that we made the right decision. It was after we had made our decision and told our supervisor that we found out that there was someone who wanted to take over Jess’ big project. Also, the RPCV who had our site previously is back for a few months to help out and has taken over our house, which used to be hers.

Most importantly, we are coming home to both our sisters having babies, and we are both excited to meet our new nieces/nephew. And, with Jess’s sister getting married, Jess is looking forward to being around to help plan and dress shop. Both Jess and I believe that we are making the right decision and are excited for our future. We don’t see this as a failed attempt, rather as our first big adventure together, of which we plan on having many more.

In fact, we plan on moving from this adventure to another. We are planning to move to Portland, OR sometime this year. I have found a culinary program that I could not be more excited about and Jess is actively looking to start her career there. And then from there, who knows?

If I had the chance to go back four years ago knowing then what I know now and I had to decide whether or not to submit my application to Peace Corps again, I would do so without hesitation. Through this entire adventure I have learned two important lessons that I will take with me: First, if you want something badly enough, are realistic about what it takes to achieve it, and are willing to put in the time and energy, than anything is possible. And second, life is not worth it if you aren’t happy.

To all who read our blog, thank you for sharing in our adventure. Good-bye to South Africa, a beautiful country that I have loved exploring (I don’t think we are done exploring this country or this continent yet). And, hello again to all of our family, friends, and loved ones back home.

Addendum to ‘The Times They Are a Changin’

Jess writes:

As an additional piece of information to our New Years post a while back, there is one last little, tiny, teensy-weensy, itsy-bitsy, onesie-sized, gummy bear-shaped, bit of ‘change’ that I’ve been waiting quite a while to share… and that is…

My sister and Devin will also be having a baby girl in 2011!!! This has meant that, like Adam, I have gone into super-Aunt mode (well Adam would be super-Uncle mode, obviously) and I've spent a great deal of our holiday vacation time and past few shopping trips on ‘African Babes’ clothing and baby curios shopping!! And since we only just found out about the sex of the baby and, thus, I have purchased neutral colors to this point, I am already planning for at least one very pink and frilly buy before the due date! I think it is also worth pointing out here that, as it turns out, my sister is following the classic ‘Murphy timeline’… which means I was actually the only odd duckling that chose a more, ummm… ‘traditional’ path with Adam… *wink*!! Plenty of news from her to come soon, but as I mentioned before, ‘The Times They [certainly] Are A Changin’!

RWO: One of the Many Reasons that We May Forever Say ‘Zed’

Jess writes:

South Africa is often abbreviated Z.A. – right, not S.A., but Z.A. – this has to do with the Afrikaans name for “South Africa”, which is “Zuid Afrika”. Regardless, it gets a little addictive when saying “Zed” for everything (i.e., www.google.co.za, KZN – the abbreviation for KwaZulu Nataal, etc.) So, it is entirely possible that we may forever say ‘Zed’. Just figured we should give you fair warning.

Some of Our Conversations with South Africans

Jess writes:

One of the greatest aspects of cross-cultural exchange, in my opinion, is the conversations you have with the family, friends, coworkers and fellow travelers you meet when staying someplace different for a while – the casual, unassuming chats that lead to something surprising and, as is usually the case, rather entertaining or enlightening. While we’ve had more of these types of interactions than we could possibly recount in a single post, there were a couple note-worthy ones that I felt should not go unmentioned. Each one provided some type of insight – either funny or intriguing – that I thought was worth being recorded somewhere along the way. Enjoy!

A Conversation with Mama Christine & Johannas:

South Africans tend to be very honest about their observations of others. In fact, it is not uncommon at all for our reasonably fit and petite, female volunteers to be told by a woman three-times they’re girth that they are “looking quite fat” on their first day back to work after vacation!! But it is never intended as a direct insult of any kind, it is simply a statement. And it works in the reverse as well… When Adam and I returned to visit our PST Host Family during our training in July, both of our host parents made mention of our somewhat decreased “size”. Our host mother, Mama Christine, is a very rotund woman (due mostly to the rampant diabetes in South Africa), while our host father, Johannas, could not weigh more than 100lbs, soaking wet – they are quite the couple! Our return conversation went something like as follows…

Us: Sanibonani!!
Mama Christine [upon seeing Adam first]: Jabu! Jabu! Oh my goodness… where have you gone?!? [Then patting him around the middle] You are going to end up like Johannas!!
Us [picturing Adam as a 100lb man]: Oh no mama, he won’t end up like Johannas [Johannas nodding]. This is good, we are healthy!
Mama Christine [then turning to me, who had lost far less weight]: Oh Sesi! Sesi, you too are getting so sick! Why have you done this?!?
Us [trying to reiterate that we were, in fact, in much better shape at that point]: No mama, we are just walking more every day. It’s good for us!
Mama Christine: Oh, but Sesi, I liked you better when you had all your curves. [She then proceeds to make multiple “donut” gestures around my mid section, not including my boobs.]
Me [thinking to myself]: Thanks.

A Conversation with an Eskom Supervisor:

We often get curious, if not worrisome looks, from white South Africans when they see us walking through our village with our work backpacks or grocery bags. Simply put, most white South Africans are not accustomed to seeing other white people – especially younger ones, that look as though they are quite familiarized – in the rural villages and towns of South Africa. This was one such instance as I walked back from The Plaza with some groceries and passed a group of Eskom workers (all black South Africans) and their supervisor (a white South African).

Me [as I was passing the supervisor]: Hello.
Supervisor [looking a bit confused]: Um, hello. Are you lost?
Me [slowing down to answer]: No, I stay just there [pointing to the dirt road off the main route.]
Supervisor [confused]: Oh, okay… but wait, where do you actually live?
Me [starting to laugh]: I actually live just there [pointing to that same dirt road.]
Supervisor [even more confused]: But you have a car to get to and from the city for work?
Me [laughing now]: No, I don’t have a car. I work in the village – I walk to work.
Supervisor [totally confused]: Then how do you get to the city???
Me [bordering on an entertaining sense of frustration]: I take the coombies.
Supervisor [chuckles loudly]: No really, how do you get there?
Me: Really, I take the coombies.
Supervisor [in total schock]: The coombies?!? You mean the public taxis?!? With everyone else?!?
Me [rolling my eyes]: Yes, those coombies.
Supervisor: Oh… [trailing off to nothing].
Me [as I started walking again and was passing his team of workers]: Sanibonani!
Workers: Sawubona sesi!

I glanced back at the supervisor, he was utterly baffled. Too funny!



A Conversation with Dumisani:

Dumisani is one of the drivers and maintenance workers for Thembalethu. He has one of the softest voices and one of the greatest smiles! As the summer days get longer and hotter, he often takes on the task of driving our lazy butts back home after work, as we are entirely exhausted from sweating all day in the offices of the compound. On one drive, we discussed the incredible amount of rain that we had been getting in the area and how a lot of the roads had been flooding and becoming impassable:

Me: So Dumisani, is the bridge that goes that side [pointing towards Tonga, on the western side of Schoemansdal] still above water?
Dumisani: No, it has been flooded all week.
Me: Then how is everyone getting to work from there?
Dumisani: They have to pay the coombie to drive them all the way around, through Malelane, to come this side.
Me: Oh shame! That is very expensive!!
Dumisani [more somber]: Yes, but last week a taxi tried to cross the bridge that side and it went underwater and the woman in the front could not get out. She drowned.
Me [horrified]: Oh my! That’s terrible!! Why did the coombie go through the water???
Dumisani: The driver did not want to pay the extra petrol to go all the way around. Me [still horrified]: And she died because of that?!? That is awful!!!
Dumisani [turning to look at me in order to provide this very pertinent bit of advice]: Nobuhle, you should know, that when the roads are flooded, I think it is better to pay the extra money for petrol than to get trapped in the coombie underwater and drowned. [A long pause.] Yes, I do think so.
Me [trying to restrain a smile at this advice in the face of this seriousness]: Yes Dumisani, I think you are right.

A Conversation with a “Bru”:

While travelling over the holidays, we had the opportunity to meet many of the younger Afrikaans and British residents of South Africa. Many of these encounters were thoroughly enlightening – as we learned (“learned”) the rules of cricket, heard their insights on the socio-political climate of their country, and exchanged stories about living in rural areas versus city centers. Many in this younger generation strike me as an odd mix between ethnic African lifestyles and a type of laid-back, Australian, surfer lifestyle. For example, more than few love the word “Bru” when talking to eachother. While staying in Coffee Bay, we played a game called 30 Seconds (basically the South African version of Catchprhase) with several of these fellow residents. And while Adam and I were at a serious disadvantage, because most of the words on the cards were native to South African pop culture and history, we had one particular round that left us rolling on the floor…

Bru #1 [flipping the card to start giving clues to the word]: Okay, Bru, right, right, this is totally like one of those Egyptian kings, you know bru?!?
Bru #2: Umm, King Tut, right bru?
Bru #1 [standing up in his excitement to give better clues]: No bru, come on bru!! Like another one, I think a newer one… think of a newer one bru!
Bru #3: Okay, um, King Tut isn’t newer though bru! What other one is there bru?!?
Bru #1 [totally frustrated and now jumping up and down]: Argh… come on bru, you know this! Come on!
Brus #2 & #3 [yelling angrily]: Bru, King Tut is the only one we know bru!!
Us [watching the last bit of sand fall in the timer]: Time!!
Bru #2: Christ, bru!!
Bru #3: Yeah, bru, who the hell was it?!?
Bru #1: God bru, it was Desmond Tutu.
Us: [I’m not even going to try to explain our response… I almost pissed my pants!!!!]

Our Conversations with Siyanda:

We have many, many conversations with our two year old host brother. While doing laundry, while sitting out on the stoop, while hanging out on their porch, he chats and chats and chats to us and we listen intently to his stories of, well, who knows… it’s all in SiSwati. Sometimes, he’ll add to his stories by utilizing props for our benefit, such as playing his toy electric guitar while singing a song (usually, not at all to the pre-set tunes on the guitar) or the time that he took a tin can, filled it with dirt, placed it atop his head, and walked with a funny little waddle across the yard saying, “Gogo! Gogo! Gogo!” (“Gogo” means “Grandmother”) Ha! That was a particular favorite!! But most of our conversations are pretty much repeats of all the others, and they go something like this…

Siyanda [spotting us from the porch and yelling very sweetly]: Nobuuuuhle! Theeeemba!! (Our SiSwati names, with very elongated vowels)
Us [waving back]: Yebo bhuti! (“Yes, brother!”)
Siyanda [frighteningly stern & demanding]: Buya! (“Come here!)
Us [walking down to him]: Unjani bhuti? (“How are you brother?)
Siyanda [back to being very sweet and innocent]: Nikoooona. (“Good”, but stretching out the vowels)
Us: Okay.
Siyanda: Okay. [And then he starts to prattle in SiSwati] Aasdfkj werlhaf adihawenka poweasdjdfkj fdahwenk [my interpretation of what he is saying.]
Us: Oh, uh huh.
Siyanda [still prattling, sometimes more enthusiastically or in a new tone of voice]: kfsldkjflknwe asdfininf nnvheryo jopfenio!
Us [starting to walk back with him to our house, where we are working]: Oh! Yebo!
Siyanda [more prattle]: iidfndkanfek hadfqebnf alkjfpopjean.
Us [every now and then, to break up the conversation]: Eh wena!! (“Hey you!”, but translates loosely to, “Really?”)
Siyanda [always very serious at this point]: Wena! (“You!”, but again, translating loosely to, “Yes, really.”)
Us: Hauw! (“Wow!”) Okay…
Siyanda [prattles again for a while]: knndaslfow ihfehean asdlkn fewa sfdfjefi….

And about a half hour later, after helping with the laundry, lounging on the stoop with us, or commandeering the bed to act out his very vivid stories…

Siyanda [done prattling and entirely abruptly]: Okay, bye bye now. [And off he goes with a wave.]
Us [always with a laugh and wave]: Okay, bye bye Siyanda!

Thanks for all the conversations everyone! We’ve loved every one of them!!

RWO: Ubuntu

Jess writes:

It’s not just a funny sounding word! It is also the underlying philosophy of South African life. The most common definition of ‘Ubuntu’ is “I am because you are”. This may sound like one of those cryptic philosophies of age-old civilizations, but you can actually still see this practice – or rather, this feeling – among families, neighbors, close-knit communities, and sometimes, even in cross-cultural of cross-racial interactions. Since I will not attempt to provide an appropriate explication of the word, the philosophy, the feeling – I will, instead, provide an anecdote (told to me by a fellow PCV) that I believe captures the essence of Ubuntu most perfectly:

A mid-thirties white couple and their baby broke down outside a township and were forced to utilize the public transit system via the local taxi rank. This (that is, white people at a taxi rank), in case you have not heard it explained by us before, is extremely uncommon. And for the white South Africans of this country, it is often viewed as a virtual “don’t” on the list of transportation options. But apparently there was no other option. The wife carried her young child, no more than 6 months, who was crying incessantly throughout the taxi rank experience. (I would make the conjecture that this may have had something to do with the most certain level of unease that the baby’s mother was emanating at the time.) The taxis began to load and the couple, in line to board the over-cramped and steamy minivan, waited in line with the other passengers. The baby continued to howl. Finally, a large black woman – the type that has obviously had her fair share of babies and has cared for her fair share of others – tapped the young wife on the shoulder. They exchanged some words and gestures (as the black woman did not speak much English and the white woman spoke absolutely none of the local language), but it became apparent that the black woman was offering to hold the child. The mother, perhaps grasping at her last bit of emotional strength, eventually gave in. The stranger, taking the child in one arm, borrowed a towel (used here as a baby wrap) from another mother standing nearby, swung the child onto her enormous back, tied up the towel tight around her bossom, and stood virtually still… the baby quieted within seconds. The white woman was astounded, confused, almost frustrated and began stringing together all sorts of foreign English words to ask simply, “How?” The comforting woman – who I imagine to have had that familiar round face that shows far too many lines for a life not yet old – just replied with a smile. All that was needed, you see, was another woman, another mother, an ounce of assistance and commonality in the form of a gesture that said silently, “We may seem worlds apart from one another, but I know something that you may not, and I can help you.” To mean, that is Ubuntu.

The Quirks of Our Little Home

Jess writes:

For the purpose of posterity – so as to never forget those little details that are so often misplaced in memories of moving and settling and living and moving again – I wanted to offer up a post on some of the more interesting aspects of this little, two-room place we call home here in Africa. It begins as such…

The Walls: Our walls are made, like most in our area, entirely of a thick concrete with a partially stucco and partially smooth finish. Due to the unique texture, they are often painted in very odd colors (for example, teal and pink as in our case) or whatever mixture of colored sealant that will actually stick to the surface. And while durability may be the intent of the concrete construction, concrete does not match so neatly with the wooden beams that they meet with at the top with the ceiling. Thus, there are spaces and gaps – anywhere from an inch or two to half a foot, where the concrete has begun to crumble away. As harmless as this may seem, small chunks of falling concrete are less risk-free than anticipated when they land on tables, computer equipment, kitchen appliances and, in the rare case, ourselves. Furthermore, though we are reasonably safe from these mini, interior avalanches while asleep under our mosquito net, it is not uncommon to be awoken to a small boulder that has been dislodged from the wall by a scurrying lizard (or perhaps a mouse… ick) as it runs the length of the spaces between the wall and beams. We’ve gotten rather accustomed to these minor sleep disturbances and have taken to merely sweeping up the debris in the mornings.

The Roof: Oh our roof. Perhaps the bane of our living existence in this country. The roof is constructed of layered and overlapping strips of corrugated tin. Thus, the ceiling not only acts as a convection oven during the hot, summer days, but also as an amplifier to everything that falls on it – say, seedlings, twigs or rain. A good rainstorm will cause the whole house to vibrate with an unbearable beating of noise, usually beyond the audible level of anything else. For this reason, Adam and I have adapted to yelling only necessary questions and answers to one another while siting across from eachother on the bed. And in some instances, we have almost literally scared the life out of eachother by entering the other room without shouting our presence and facing the terrified surprise of the other when he/she turns around to find the other standing right behind. Sorry. But back to the rain… the other curious (or as we like to think of it, completely idiotic) characteristic of our roof is that it is completely flat. But what should that matter?? Well, when it rains, the flat, corrugated tin roof does nothing to dispel the rain off the sides of the house – as with a normal, slanted and guttered roof – so water simply pours in from random dents and divets in the construction, creating miniature (and sometimes not-so-miniature) waterfalls in our kitchen/living room and our bedroom/office. Furthermore, as the walls have those aforementioned gaps between top and ceiling, the flatness of the roof makes possible the most interesting and horrifying of water features down the insides of our walls – creating rivers of tiny rapids crisscrossing the landscape of our floor and pooling in the lowest areas that we now call ‘the ponds’. So why, you ask, would they not just slant the roof and eliminate the problem all together? Our answer: that would just be far too convenient and, afterall, this is Africa.

The Floors: Our floors, like every other home we have seen in South Africa, are covered with polished, multi-mixture concrete. Luckily, this makes sweeping quite easy as there are no hardwood-floor cracks or tile indents with which to compete. Being polished concrete, however, it has an uncanny ability to attract dirt and dust that ingrains itself in the tiny pores of the polish. And after several years of polishing, sweeping, re-polishing and re-sweeping, the floors have a tendency to take on the traits of the Arctic Ocean in response to global warming – that is, growing ever so slowly a half centimeter a year from the layers and layers of newly acquired covering. For this reason, I have all but given up on actually keeping the floors ‘clean’ and have merely resigned myself to ridding only the piles of dirt that become visible to the naked eye and, of course, the chunks of concrete wall and dead insects that are scattered about in the mornings.

The Water: We don’t have any running water inside the house, but I think I’ve beaten that dead horse a couple times before, so just refer back to some of our previous posts…

The Electricity: I feel that I should dedicate this section to Jill Peters, who has experienced the incredibleness of our little home’s electricity to a far greater extent than either Adam or myself. I’ll explain: I would describe the electricity in our area as semi-consistent, meaning that it is on most times, except for the pre and post-storm blackouts and the during-storm brownouts (why the electricity stays on better during a storm and not before or after a storm will always remain a mystery to me). We are lucky, therefore, to be able to cook, heat water, and run our computer mostly to our convenience. We are unlucky, however, in the fact that our house is apparently not ‘grounded’. Meaning that any contact with an electrical outlet, switch, or appliances will likely provide you with a ‘morning jolt’ that you were probably hoping would come from your coffee instead. Thus, we wear shoes around the house at all times (not such a difficult sacrifice considering my description of the floors in the previous section), but for the primary purpose of ‘grounding’ ourselves. Jill, however, we have equated to the lab rat that never quite figures out where the cheese is, regardless of the physical stimuli (sorry Jill, I had to include it!!) Jill is a barefooter, including in the house. So, we often know when she is attempting to use the stove or turn on a light, not by the smell of food or by the change in lighting, but by the immediate yelp that follows these interactions. But she has not been the only victim in our home’s love of innocent electrocutions, Adam and I both have experienced this same ‘jumpstart’ when doing menial tasks after a rainstorm (read as: flooded house). Standing in water, as we should have realized before our first electrical encounter, serves as an incredible conductor of electricity, shoes or none. And I cannot forget to point out here that, unlike the in the States where the common household voltage is 120V, South Africa has a frighteningly high voltage of 220V!! And from personal experience, we can all tell you that this makes a significant difference – think shaky hands and an inability to focus clearly for a while afterwards…yikes!!

The Furniture: Finally, I reach the most comforting aspect of our little home – the couches, the chairs, and the bed. And while ‘comforting’ should not be misconstrued for ‘comfortable’, our furniture does offer us an immense sense of feeling at home. The couches, for example, actually allow for visitors as well as a place to sit separately while one or the other works in the kitchen or the bedroom – and I should mention here that ‘separately’ might seem to be an odd adverb to describe our couch sitting, but you would be surprised how nice it is to rest, even for a short period, someplace independent of your spouse with whom you spend all of your waking (and sleeping) hours as Peace Corps Volunteers. And on the subject of spending time together, our bed – for reasons not nearly as exciting as you may first assume – is our home’s sanctuary. Under our mosquito net, on top of our over-stuffed, Peace Corps-provided comforter, we spend much of our evenings and weekends sitting on that bed. We eat there, we watch movies and TV shows care of our computer there, we send emails and check Facebook there, we work from home on days that we don’t trek to work there, we read there, we listen to music there, we play cards there, we nap there, and last on this list of the uses of our bed, we actually sleep there. Our bed, as it turns out, is our home-away-from-home-in-our-home. Hmm. It’s also worth noting that since the start of our rainy season, we have become very protective of our comforting furniture and have been able to make it all surprisingly portable. Thus, when the water features on the walls and waterfalls in the rooms start to pour down, we are able to clump all our furniture (not only couches, chairs and bed, but also bureaus, kitchen cupboard unit, wash table, etc.) snuggly toward the centers of the rooms so that the rivers can divert cleanly around them and the ponds can pool safely beyond their reach. All of these earthly belongings that make us feel at home in our home, therefore, have become puzzle shapes in the tetrus game that is our two-room house during a flood. Nevertheless, the water always dries, the furniture stays reasonably undamaged, and we can always retire after a long day of work and long evening of waterproofing to our double-size haven in front of a fan.

And that is our home in a nutshell – virtually the size of a nutshell, in fact – from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, and from sitting spot to resting spot. As much as this two-room structure is often a recipe for disaster, and usually on the brink of complete destruction from flood water, electricity shortages, or scurrying reptiles, there is still something about it that feels somewhat right. And regardless of all the challenges that it doles out from day to day, we often find ourselves smiling at our humble abode, marveling at the joy one can find in such a small, simple way of living, and feeling very at ‘home’ in our quirky, little home.

RWO: Gangsters Holding Hands

Jess writes:

Speaking of gangsters… a young, gang-ish, boy here is called (as mentioned above) a ‘Tstotsi’. They are easily recognizable by their slightly too-nice and well-fitted clothing and the trademark, floppy, fisherman hat. Just like they see on TV and in movies, they walk with a swagger, head tilted to the side, shouting in low, abrupt bursts, their familiar slang – Eitha! [Hey there!], Howzit? [How are you?], and Sharp sharp! [All good!]. In general conversation, this slang would be used only between the younger, males of a group, but our lovely, little Tstotsis will use these greetings with anyone and everyone they pass (excluding, perhaps, some very discerning Gogos). But we haven’t yet reached the irony of this whole culture…

You see, as which many countries around the world, holding hands in South Africa is considered a very casual sign of friendship. This gesture does not even indicate a specified level of affection (as with the arm-in-arm gesture of girlfriends), but is merely a statement of, “I know you fairly well and am standing next to you.” Thus, even the Tsotsis will sometimes fall into this familiar habit and… every once in a while… if you’re lucky enough… you’ll get one of the greatest sights of all:

Two young kids, attire and styles urbanized and ghetto-fied, walking along with their own rythym and strut, eyeing and catcalling all the young ladies that pass, shouting their “Eitha’s” and “Howzits” across parking lots… with fingers interlocked in a most gentle of clasps. Ahhh… it kinda just changes the whole rough-and-tough-ness of it all, doesn’t it? I Love it!

RWO: Oh, those Chicago Boys

Adam writes:

During our travels around South Africa we came across a funny colloquialism used frequently in northern Africa. Whenever I would tell an African that I was from near Chicago they would always ask if I was a “Chee-ka-go boy” and laugh. Apparently “Chicago Boy” is a colloquialism referring to a really clever and dangerous gangster or “tsotsi”. When we asked why Chicago, they told us it was because we had the worst gangsters there. We finally figured out that they were referring to the days of Al Capone and they are convinced that Chicago is still the most dangerous city in the States.

Travelogue: Kruger National Park, The Sequel

Adam writes:

Since Jess has already written an extensive Travelogue about Kruger in the past, this one will simply serve to mention those great new sights and sightings this time around.

This time, instead of booking a day trip with a tour company, we booked the trip with Paul, one of the owners of Nelspruit Backpackers. We stay with him and his wife Natalie, and there three lovely children, fairly regularly as Nelspruit is usually the launching point for our travels and our last night of showers on our return trips. They are wonderful people with whom we have become friends over the last year. So this time our guide was not only familiar with the park, but we were quite familiar with our guide which made for a far more enjoyable day than the first trip, and we loved our first trip. Also making this trip more fun, was the fact that we went with two other PCV’s whom we consider close friends. So all and all, we were set for a day of fun with friends.

Again our trip was marked with tons of sightings of what we have taken to calling the familiar things. Animals like Elephants, Warthogs, Impala, Kudu, Steenbok, Baboons, Monkeys, and Guinea Fowl. Not to say that we were any less impressed by these magnificent and beautiful creatures, but how fortunate we are that we now consider these animals ‘familiar sights’. There were some differences though. This time we saw a lot more baby and juvenile animals in general and specifically of some of these. Baby Monkeys, Baboons, and Impala were common. And thoroughly proving Jess’ argument that everything is cute when it is a baby, were the baby Warthogs. That’s right, they were freaking adorable. To be honest I was tempted to jump out of the car and kidnap one when it wandered a little too far from momma. But the reality that momma was meaner, stronger, and faster than me was driven into me by my loving and caring wife. Too bad, he would have been cute for a while and then, according to Paul, ugly yet delicious as a juvenile, a perfect combination. Another stark difference in this trip was that we would see far more water animals, e.g. Hippos and Crocodiles, as it was the rainy season and there were more watering holes and the rivers were higher, and more birds due to migration patterns.

My biggest fear for the day driving into the park was not that we wouldn’t see any of the big cats, for they are a rare sight indeed, but that we wouldn’t see any Giraffes. It had been nearly six months since our last visit and Jess was still heartbroken that she had yet to see a Giraffe in the park. You see, Giraffes are supposed to be one of the more common sights in Kruger and Jess is nearly obsessed with their goofy shape. We were a few hours into the visit and had seen plenty of animals and were on our way to Skukuza for some coffee and breakfast when Jess started yelling “STOP” at the top of her lungs. There in the trees on the side of the rode were four Giraffes! I cannot begin to describe how giddy my wife was. We sat for nearly twenty minutes snapping pictures and taking video as the rest of us joined in and joked around about her excitement. As far as Jess was concerned, we could call it a day. We would continue to see Giraffes throughout the day.

After our morning break we headed out again. Soon we started seeing beautiful birds. There was the European Roller which had beautifully brilliant blue wings. Shortly after that there was a sighting of the Ground Hornbill. This is a large ground bird the size of a young turkey with a bright red face and bill. We were able to see three of them hunting in the grass for bugs and small rodents. This was a big deal as there are only an estimated 250 of these birds in all of Kruger, a park that is roughly the size of Israel.

Soon after this we stopped to watch a large group of Impala that was joined by a small heard of Zebra. The Zebra soon broke away and we followed them for a while down the road. Paul explained to us that though the Zebras stripes would make them seem like an easy target, Lions only see in black and white so the stripes actually made the Zebras hard to discern and when they move it can be quite confusing to the predator.

We then had our first encounter of the day with a watering hole that was full of Hippos and Crocodiles. However, they were refusing to surface much. Later in the day we would find a spot where we would snap some great photos of Hippos coming to surface and get a few great looks at the Crocs. The day was marked with such watering holes, which was exciting as Jess and I had only seen these animals through binoculars barely making them out on the last trip.

There was some real excitement when we saw a giant flock of White-backed Vultures circling in the air ahead of us. We were all hoping that this meant we might be able to spot a big cat feasting. As we drove up, we realized that something in fact had been killed, an Impala, but it had already been picked clean and left behind. It was evidence that things did hunt and get hunted in the park, though we wouldn’t be privy to seeing it that day. We would spend the rest of the day spotting what we began calling ‘lion rocks’ and ‘leopard trees’ but in fact no actual Lions or Leopards. But there is always next time.

For lunch Paul took us to a pavilion overlook as we had packed a picnic of sorts. It was a beautiful spot that allowed some time to look through binoculars and get a grander look at the park. What I saw reminded me of watching Jurassic park as a kid. On the banks of a river there were Hippos sunbathing and playing in the water, a few kilometers away there were the necks and heads of Giraffe standing above the tree line of the neighboring grove of acacia. In the grasslands beyond there were a few Rhinoceros and herds of Impala and Zebra. All of them were together in one expanse of land grazing and going about their business. It was there that I understood why people always say that after Kruger, zoos no longer cut it.

There were a couple more notable bird sightings in the afternoon. Towards the very end of the day was a Goliath Heron, the largest Heron in the world. We watched for ten minutes as it pulled a fish from the water and had lunch. Our favorite, however, was a King Fisher. This bird is relatively small, maybe eight inches or so, and as the name implies, he hunts fish. This particular one had already caught itself a meal and was perched on the side of the bridge. You see, since King Fishers are so small, they must make sure that the fish is completely dead and not moving because if the fish is to wriggle or flop on the way down, it would lodge itself in the bird’s throat cutting of air supply and most likely choking it. So we proceeded to watch as the bird repeatedly and violently smacked the fish against the concrete. With every smack there was a resounding chorus within the car of “Bam!”. And yes, we have video, to be posted at a later date. This spectacle would come to be known as the ‘King Fisher Beat Down’.

Towards the mid-afternoon spirits were falling as our chances to see one of those elusive cats began to drop and everyone was feeling the effect of our 4:30 wakeup call when our fellow PCV said “Stop”. Jess then confirmed that she too had thought she saw something. And in fact they had, a two ton White Rhino. He was barely visible through the bush and so Paul pulled around a bend and we had a perfect view of this guy through an opening in the trees. He was wallowing in the mud and he was huge. We were excited to see him up so close and boy was he excited too. We were able to snap some really great photos from our vantage point and Paul would bang on the roof of the car to get his attention so we could also get some shots of him looking at us. We all decided that there was big, and then there was Rhinoceros big.

Our last notable spotting of the day was as we were driving out of the park. It was raining pretty good and we had all but given up on cats when Jess and Paul spotted a couple of Mongoose darting across the road. Paul told us that this was a sure sign of a predator nearby and sure enough he was right. A few meters up the road were a pair of juvenile Hyenas standing in the road. As they stood only feet away from the car we were able to grab some great close up shots in spite of the rain.

So, we didn’t see any cats. That means that Jess and I have yet to see a Lion, but we all agreed that this was a great trip into the park. And Jess and I agreed that this trip was even better than the first one. We now understand the addictive allure of Kruger National Park and you can bet that we will be back in search of a Lion. Oh, and Jess got to see her Giraffes.

RWO: Pay Up, Big Boy!

Jess writes:

When a woman is to be married in South Africa, the future groom’s family pays “Labola”, a gift to unite the two families. Labola usually consists of 10 cows, each representing a virtue of the future bride (and 11 cows if the future bride is still a virgin)! More currently, the future groom’s family pays a monetary amount, accompanied by traditional and contemporary gifts. However, the concept of “cows as payment” is still a very prominent one. So that, when our female, American volunteers are proposed to (which, usnruprisingly, is often), another male (usually a supervisor or neighbor) will jump in to help negotiate Labola for the PCV. We’ve had up to 20 cows offered for some volunteers, due entirely to the exotic, “celebrity” status of Americans in this country!!! Eish!!

RWO: Schemers

Jess writes:

Non-profit programs in South Africa are often given the title of a “scheme” – which to us sounds rather dubious, but simply translates to “program” in South African speak. So you will see odd-looking signs all over the country for “Medical Schemes”, “Collaboration Schemes”, and “Employment Schemes”. These all have the virtuous intent of helping persons in need, regardless of their less-than-well-intentioned-sounding names. Nevertheless, we still make the occasional joke in bad taste about a “Feeding Scheme” for OVCs – such as, “Oh yes, let’s lure in all these poor, orphaned and vulnerable children with the promise of hot and healthy food…and then…ha ha ha [evil laugh, of course]!” Yikes, not a good connotation at all!

Travelogue: The Wild Coast & Coffee Bay

Jess writes:

Our final stop on the vacation agenda was to the ever-so-quiet and charming Coffee Bay. The actual roads to get there however, much like the weather conditions of the last stretch, were miserable! And by miserable, I mean both unbelievably incredible and utterly unbearable. From J-Bay, we headed towards Mthatha, ready to cover more than half of the stretch known as “The Wild Coast” in one 9-hour riding day. Luckily, there was far less rain than previously… unluckily, the roads took on a whole new meaning of “dangerous, curvy intersection ahead”. Every 10k there would be such a sign and for the majority of the trip, we gripped our seats and/or each other for fear of our lives. Okay, I’ll adjust that just slightly: I, more so than Adam, was doing most of the gripping and fearing and I would like to think that this was due more to the Mefloquin that has made me a paranoid schizophrenic than a lack of trust in the driver. Okay. Either way, it was maddeningly scary at times!!! But finally we had made it through the highest of the mountain passes and just before entering Mthatha town limits, we saw the understated sign on the side of the N2 pointing south, to Coffee Bay.

Now, I should start by saying that we had been both warned and hyped about this portion of the trek. “The road is the worst I have ever seen!” explained one traveler. “The views are some of the best in all of South Africa!” described another. Okay, well, let’s see…

Within minutes, the terrain changed from the rugged Wild Coast to a fairy-tale scape of slowly sloping green hills, trickling streams, and jagged gorges cutting through grassy lawns for as far as the eye could see. For the next 75k, we endured – as rightly described – some of the worst road conditions known to South Africa: extremely steep inclines, blind curves (and yes, some of those combined!), potholes the size of small countries, haphazard and notably hazardous patches of “construction” (read as: pavement-to-dirt-to-crumbling-pavement-again), and some of the fastest-changing weather conditions we had ever seen… “Oh look how beautiful the sun is over those hills… oh crap that looks like a massive rain storm… where the hell did this wind come from… oh, the sun is back out again…”! Eish! But along the entire trek, the scenery looked more like a backdrop for an exotic, African, Broadway show than an actual, real-life, place. Dotting the hills were bright blue, pink and yellow Xhosa rondavals with make-shift wooden fences and brightly-dressed Xhosa Gogos tending to hillside gardens. Some of these magnificent little homes were built precariously on the edge of slopes that dropped down to coves over a hundred meters below… not exactly the type of “backyard” I would want to find children playing in, but nevertheless breathtaking to see. It took some serious concentration to avoid the myriad obstacles that were also along the road (not just part of the road) – herds of stubborn cattle, flocks of trotting goats, and gaggles of geese. Then, as we got closer to Coffee Bay, we experienced the beautiful sightings of wild horses and interesting donkey breeds, some galloping along the hillsides and others, being ridden bareback by Xhosa children on their way to or from their various herds of livestock. How great!

Finally, after a two hour endeavor (yes, two yours to drive 75k!), we arrived in the town of Coffee Bay. Well, it’s not actually a town… in fact, I don’t even think you could call it a village… it’s really just the end point where the main road runs into the lower cliffs and ocean. There is only one “hotel” (think someone’s large house), two backpackers, one café, one restaurant, a small clothing hut, and an African Jahdrum store – all within a two minute walk of, well, everything else.

We unloaded at the Coffee Shack and began our whirl-wind tour of the premises with our friendly guide: “Activities here, internet is available, patio and tables, some chairs, oh and hammocks, the breakfast bar, the actual bar, our pool table, bathrooms there, dorms there, and here is your rondaval. And once you’re settled, close beach out that gate, main beach over the stream, dinner’s at 7pm, sign-up sheet here, and there’s your free Welcome Drink.” Whew! The Coffee Shack, as we soon discovered, is the equivalent of an all-inclusive, do nothing or do everything, resort of a backpacker – the best backpacker experience we’ve had in South Africa! The entire compound was nestled beneath a canopy of jungle trees and vines, with wooden patios and walkways going up, down, and around the various lounge spots – an enormous wooden table under thatch roof with a selection of board games strewn about, a stone “breakfast” nook carved into one of the foundational walls, a firepit built up alongside the bar, a dinner table under the breezy side of the main buildings eaves, lounge chairs and hammocks located wherever you pleased to nap or read, and a back lawn beyond the main buildings with a view of the rocky coastline and the cliffs. This was not a vacation spot. This was the realization of a storybook.

Your whole stay went on one tab – tricky, hey? – but made for an awesomely relaxed and carefree feeling of luxury. Breakfast was anything from eggs and toast and bacon to youghurt and fruit and granola. Lunch and snacks were toasties and crisps. Dinners were glorious three and four-course meals of soups, salads, meat, sides and dessert. Free tea and coffee to your heart’s content and, as though it had been ordered with your beverage, plenty of sunshine, cool breezes and an almost-mandatory afternoon siesta.

Each morning we were enticed to partake in the day’s adventure – hikes to coves, to mountains, through villages, etc. – and we were luckily allowed to decline any and all offers of physical exertion due to the fact that we had “completely forgotten to even pack a good pair of walking shoes, how could we?” Shame. (He he!) So we did exactly what we intended to do each day: nothing at all. Well, almost nothing. We slept in, read our books, I wrote in my journal, we took photos of snakes as they crawled through the brush, we chatted with the kids at the Craft Corner that were making wallets out of juice cartons, and on the very rare occasion that we felt like a very short walk, we hiked up the hill to the pizzeria with gorgeous views of little Coffee Bay and the huge Wild Coast coastline. At night, we would often rally together a group of people to play “30 Seconds” – the South African version of Catchphrase. One night, with a group of more than fifteen of us, we played our little, competitive hearts out. We divided the teams up based on their language categories for the ease of guessing: Team 1 was the German, Dutch and Flemish speakers, Team 2 was the South African team with a mix of Afrikaans and English, Team 3 was a mishmash of EU-ers speaking Spanish/French/other, and Team 4 was Me, Adam, and Jackie – a new friend from Australia, that everyone dubbed “The Americans” and that we switched to “The A-Team” to rightfully include Australia! We drank slightly too much and got slightly too excited and, on more than one occasion, were jumping out of our seats to shout out clues that were only remotely related to the actual words. And even though our A-Team was at a definite disadvantage since a majority of the questions related to rugby and cricket (yeah, like I know anything there), we actually managed to win more than one of the games that night and technically took the official winning title! Go A-Team!!

As it neared Christmas, festivities went into full swing and PCVs from every corner of the southern continent were pouring in to enjoy the Coffee Shack celebrations. The largest of the events would be a full-day, Christmas Eve extravaganza, including hikes, drinks, gifts, plenty of entertainment, and tons and tons and tons of food! We spent the morning on the main beach that was, quite literally, “over the river and through the woods” from the backpacker and then hung around the Coffee Shack to greet fellow SA volunteers as they arrived for the holidays.

In the late afternoon, we all piled into the Coffee Shack vans (and a couple random guests cars as well, since there were so many of us) and drove the long, steep road up to the highest cliff on the bay. There, with free gin and tonics, oysters and mussels, we could see the whole of Coffee Bay – with its jagged cliffs and crashing waves and sandy stretches of beaches that end in misty coves and tunnels. We listened to the tide coming in, the wind in the grasses, and the not-so-distant hooves of mountain goats perched on the ledges. And as the evening approached, we sipped on our cocktails and enjoyed our hors d’oeuvres as the sun set over the ocean and lit up the sea spray in magnificent shades of pink and rose. Absolutely beautiful!

Back down at the backpacker, the staff was preparing for a feast – one that I can honestly say would rival any American Thanksgiving! In the meantime, we all gathered around for a Christmas Eve toast and enjoyed cups of chilled champagne with the use of our Coffee Shack Christmas gifts of Coffee Shack cozies! And then dinner was served – roasted turkey, glazed gammon, roast beef, butternut squash, zucchini and corn fritters, baby potatoes with honey mustard dressing, green salads, pasta salads, three bean salads, chickpea and lentil tabouli, yams, beets, apple sauce, cranberry sauce, salsa, gravy and Xhosa bread!! And then there was still dessert of Christmas Cake in brandy butter, cheesecake and fruit salad!!! Everyone piled around the various tables and seating areas, with plates overflowing and steaming, and took their first bites of Christmas supper. After a few bites of my own, I looked up and smiled at the hodgepodge of fellow travelers around us – travelers from Europe, the U.K. and Australia, ex-patriots from the states and Asia, short-term inhabitants and volunteers from all over Africa – everyone indulging in their feasts, exchanging stories and jokes, sharing bits of nostalgia about holiday traditions back home, drinking a little too much champagne, and cooling off in the nighttime breezes of a warm, Christmas Eve. This certainly wasn’t our normal Christmas, but it certainly would be one to remember!

After several more beverages, we had quite a group of English and semi-English speaking guests belting out the words (or at least the words that we thought were the words) to some of our carol favorites – Jingle Bells (with bell sound effects), Rudolph (with all the various and varying additions), Silent Night (a little too serious for our mood), Deck the Halls (the clean and the not-so-clean version), and finally, The Little Drummer Boy (we basically sucked at this one… except for the “ba-rump-a-rump-bum” parts)!! Later in the evening, the firepit was lit ablaze and the guys from Jah Drummer came down for a multi-hour drumming, jam session – the staff danced, the staffs’ kids danced, the guests danced – it was a virtual nightclub of African drums and Xhosa dance moves under the jungle canopy decorated with Christmas lights. You could feel the beating in your chest, like your heart jumping to every palm on the drum, and we just watched and watched and watched.

Finally, when the party started weaning into Christmas day, most of made our way back to our bunks for a long night of deep, deep sleep – with the smell of mosquito coils replacing images of sugarplums dancing in our head, and drying towels and swim suits where stockings should have been hung – but we slept nonetheless. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Christmas Day was quiet, slow, and reminiscent of the carols and drumming the night before. We ate and napped and took some drives along the coast to see the sights. Afterall, before leaving Coffee Bay, we would have to see “Hole in the Wall”. A group piled into one of the Coffee Shack cars and we made our bumpy way out to the great mountain in the middle of the sea. We hiked the last kilometer along the grass and then stood on the edge of the hill, overlooking the gigantic rock formation standing strong against the crashing waves. And yes, as it is aptly called, it does have an enormous hole at its center, carved out by swirling riptides and smashing waters, so that it resembles something of an over-sized, ancient Arc du Triomphe plopped down in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Pretty cool!

Driving back down to the beaches, we enjoyed beautiful vistas of the coastline and, as before, the sight of gorgeous wild horses along the narrowest slopes of the hills. Back to Coffee Shack, we lounged on the back lawn for a Christmas Day lunch of braai, burgers, and salads and then retired under the thatch covers as an afternoon storm passed overhead and cooled the air just before evening. Just as the rain had ended, steaming bowls of butternut squash soup were served up with enormous chunks of Xhosa bread and we all reclined in lounge chairs to enjoy the hot concoction in the chilly night air… in fact, if you closed your eyes and tried hard enough, you could almost feel the outside cold and inside warmth of a Christmas night… almost. But either way, it was truly a Merry Christmas!

The next day we had to head out… leaving behind this majestic little world of trees and beach and relaxation. My eyes were drawn to the sideview mirrors as we made our way back to the main road, catching every last glimpse of this place that I could as we drove away.

And then it was gone. And we were back. And that exotic holiday getaway already seemed like a dream or distant memory. But when I think back on it… I can still smell the food, and feel the breeze, and hear the waves, and see the sun setting over the cliffs… I don’t think I will ever forget this most different of Christmases that we spent here, in Africa.

Travelogue: The Garden Route & Jeffrey’s Bay

Jess writes:

Leaving Wine Country, we followed the N2 along the Southern Coast of South Africa – passing signs along the way for shark diving and whale watching in Hermanus, penguin beaches along the bays, and Cape Agulhas – the actual cape where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans merge in a swirling revelry of chaos. The morning drive was incredible, as we took in the most diverse and ever-changing string of scenery as we continued further – starting with the craggy mountains of the Wine Region, leading to long and low-lying plains reminiscent of the Midwest, to Scottish-style green hills rolling alongside rivers, to Southeast-Asian style mountain tops peeking out from mystic jungle vines, and then finally, as the N2 met up with the north-bending coastline, we began to feel the seaspray in the area.

Passing through Mossel Bay, we had officially entered the “Garden Route” – a stretch of road almost 300k long, ending around Tsitsikamma Nature Preserve, that is often described as a “Taste of Eden” , an incredible, unmissable, unbelievably breathtaking, must-do while visiting/living in South Africa. We were so well prepared: I had both photo and video camera in hand, the windows were propped open for clear views, and we sat ready and willing to breathe in all that the Garden Route had to offer…

And that’s when it started to rain. A thick ocean-drawn fog flooded across the road and just as we were passing the first official South African Travel Bureau sign for “The Garden Route”, the skies opened up and poured and we were forced to crawl along the N2 at a miserably slow pace since the driver couldn’t see more than two meters ahead of the vehicle. And as some bad form of misplaced, previous, travel karma would have it, the clouds only parted as we drove through the toll gates at Tsitsikamma… the end of the Garden Route. Awesome.

Nevertheless, we did get to enjoy the last stretch of road from the nature preserve to Jeffrey’s Bay in reasonably good weather, which at least allowed for us to take in the incredible bridge passes over gaping, limestone gorges and the sight of the last remnants of fog as they sat on the tops of the forests of skinny evergreens.

We arrived in J-Bay in late afternoon and checked into the conveniently located Jeffrey’s Bay Backpackers. Lonely Planet and Coast-to-Coast had both described this place first and foremost as “colorful”. And oh my, this was not a joke. The entire backpacker was decked out in the craziest pairings of neon, pastel, and dark matte colors – bright blue on one wall, a neutral pink on another, blinding yellow on the door, and psychedelic drawings, equally colorful, or flowers, trees, landscapes, and animals throughout the entire place. The dorm was adjoined to an outside bar – how capitalistic! – and was a similarly out of control hodge-podge of wooden tables, street signs, fabric curtains, Christmas lights, and walls that had been graffitied and marked across every possible inch!

Fearing an overstimulation of some sort, we dropped our stuff and headed straight to the only Mexican restaurant listed in the whole town, named originally, “The Mexican”. And, must to our surprise, it was some of the best Mexican food we had chowed down to date in South Africa! Yum! And since the rain storm we had managed to get ahead of on the N2 was now barreling down on the coastal town, we opted to finish off the day with a western-style evening up at Fountain’s Mall to see the newly-released Harry Potter 7.1!! I was soooo excited and it was soooo worth it!! (Lots of ‘o’s for dramatic effect!)

We spent the following days lazily meandering around downtown J-Bay and walking along the beaches. The town itself – aside from being the surf capital of South Africa – does not have much to offer as a tourist attraction. Thus, it was the perfect layover along the N2 to lounge away a couple days with absolutely no plans at all. We strolled the streets and marveled at the unbelievable number of surf-related gear and parafanalia shops – Quicksilver, Ripcurl, Billabong, and a whole slew of others – as well as a great little selection of tasty eats for breakfast at Sunflower Café and more than one stop at The Greek for dinners of chicken and lamb souvlaki wraps and the most amazing baklava and ice cream for dessert! We spent the evenings at the backpacker bar, meeting all sorts of people – equally colorful to match the whole backpacker vibe – and chatted with SA-ers and foreigners about everything from local languages, sky-diving, surfing (of course) and perhaps the most entertaining of all, a full dissertation on the “basics” (yeah, right) of the oh-so-curious-and-confusing game of cricket!

On our last day in J-Bay, we made our way back down to “Supertubes” – the famed surfer spot that hosts the Billabong Pro Championship each July. In the offseason of December, the waves are far more tame and it’s a great place to walk barefoot in the sand, look for shells, and stand a while in the shallowest parts of the surf to feel your feet sink. Pepper Street, the primary gateway to Supertubes is home to row after row of dingy-looking surfer hostels and a handful of quirky surf shops – one in particular, a surf-themed photography and art store, captured our attention for over an hour while we perused the merchandise depicting 1960’s VW vans stacked ten boards high and the books on the history of the South African surf industry. Before trekking back to our dorm for a final night’s stay, we indulged – no, let me take that back, overindulged – in a massive platter of the freshest of fresh fish n’chips at Die Vismandjie on De Gama Street. The fish was perfectly crisp, the fries were perfectly un-slopped, and best of all, an enormous container of real (yes, real!) malt vinegar sat at the center of each table! Now that is how you serve a basket of fried goodness!

Okay, so let’s review: Surf stores – check. Mexican & Greek food – check. Cool little surf-inspired art shop – check. Battered seafood – check. Sand between our toes – check.

Alrighty then, on we go…

RWO: Boobs. (Really Guys, it’s Just Boobs.)

Jess writes:

Boobs are so not a big deal here. However, everything from the waist to the knees are. So, all females are required to wear clothing that completely (and I mean completely) covers the hips, butt, thighs, and even the knees (these rules aren’t quite as strict for younger girls). On the other hand, it is entirely acceptable for females (even older females!) to wear shirts that show copious amounts of cleavage and to breast-feed anywhere, including meetings (I’m less shocked by the latter of those two norms). In fact, it is even culturally acceptable for young females (those unmarried and without children) to walk around entirely topless and while this is not a daily occurrence in the rural areas, it is surprisingly common in the extremely rural villages and cultural centers. Intriguing!

RWO: A Boy Named "Kentucky"

Jess writes:

Children’s names are often reflective of the family’s feelings about the birth event in South Africa. For example, a first-born girl may be named “Happiness”, but a second girl (with no boys in between) may just be named “Again”. On the other hand, boys are almost always given names of optimism, such as “Gift”, “Blessing” or “Thanks”. Our youngest host brother, however, is the fourth in the family, and his name means simply, “The Children are Enough”! Naming is so experience based, in fact, we’ve heard that the year that KFC opened in South Africa, a surprisingly large proportion of the boys were actually named “Kentucky”. Oh how original!

Tasting Notes

Adam writes:

From the time that Jess and I learned that we would be serving in South Africa, I was adamant that we needed to visit the country’s wine regions. And though South Africa has many regions all over the Western Cape province, with our limited timeline we decided to settled on the oldest and most renowned: Stellenbosch, Paarl, and Franschoek. I had one goal for this trip: To get a feel for what was really happening with South African wines. I am happy to say that we succeeded.

My only previous experience with wines from this country has been a few inexpensive bottles back home in hopes of finding a bargain and only a few bottles here that were affordable on our stipend. I can’t say that I was ever impressed with my samplings. But as I had found out in California, you need to go to a place, taste at the source, and talk to the people who live and work there to fully understand the wines of a region.

Our first stop was L’Avenir who have some of the oldest plantings of pinotage in the country. This winery came highly recommended and rightfully so. From the beginning I was impressed with the focus and polish of these wines. Where previous South African wines were rustic in character and often out of balance, these were precise. We started with the Chenin Blanc (2010). This wine smelled of wildflowers and yellow citrus fruits and filled the mouth with delicate flavors of both. It finished clean with bright and mouthwatering acidity. The next was the new vintage of Pinotage (2010) which was made in a light and fruity style and served slightly chilled. It was a rush of bright and ripe fruit flavors with a delicate structure and clean acidity. After that we moved on to a Cabernet Sauvignon (2008) and I have to admit I was more than a bit skeptical. One whiff from the glass revealed that these grapes were grown high up in the hills and as I am a big fan of “mountain fruit” in my cabs, I started to get excited. Beautiful aromas of damp earth, stone, leather, cocoa, cigar box, and dried plums and raisins started coming from the glass. On the palate the wine was full and lush with flavors of cassis, black berries, leather, tobacco, and dark chocolate flooding the palate. This wine had structure and big tannins. This may not have been the best Cab I have tasted, but I immediately wanted to buy a case to lie down and a case to serve to my friends when they came over. At this point, I was surprised and impressed. We then moved to another Pinotage (2007), this one made in a fuller style and to age. Though after the Cab this one doesn’t come back to mind as fully, I do remember it as being reminiscent of Zinfandel in its fruit and structure. I also remember that this was when I started to believe the argument that Pinotages can be aged. We finished with the Grand Vin Pinotage (2007). This wine was densely dark fruit on the nose. Cherries, plums, cassis, and berries came through with earth, cocoa, and a hint of leather. The wine was silk on the palate. A full bodied wine that was soft and lush in the mouth like the finest Merlots that I’ve tasted, and then the flavors exploded. Plum and cherries, tobacco and cocoa, the flavors were ripe and full. This wine was still immense though and was proof that some Pinotages do, in fact, need aging. This wine was a revelation. Never had I thought that I would find wines like these in South Africa. This wine was poised and polished, it was perfectly balanced and immediately made you want more, and this wine finished forever. It wasn't as delicate or as complex as Bordeuax, it didn’t continue to reveal itself in layers over time, sure it mellowed nicely in the glass, but what this wine did was deliver one amazing mouthful of wine every time. It proved Pinotage could be aged, it proved that Pinotage could be good, and it proved that I was totally wrong about the wines of South Africa.

All that night and into the next morning I was worried. I was worried that we had peaked too soon. I mean, L’Avenir was one of the most highly recommended wineries in all of our literature, what if we had tasted the best first? We headed to Paarl with a slight amount of trepidation. Driving through Paarl didn’t help my spirits. Where as Stelenbosch was a beautiful and quaint town with great architecture and history Paarl was just a modern town. The drive only worsened as we turned from the main road and headed through a neighbor hood that could only be described as a ghetto. We need not have worried as soon we were out in the vineyards again and soon to arrive at Nederburg.

Nederburg is one of the largest and oldest wine farms in the country and has the reputation that comes with all of that. This time Jess and I decided to do two separate tastings which Jess insisted that we share. The result was twelve wines so you will have to excuse me if my memory is a little hazy here. Jess started with the Manor House Sauvignon Blanc (2010) and I had the Winemaster’s Reserve Sauvignon Blanc (2010). While both wines offered plenty of pleasing green notes on the nose Jess’ had a little more fruit. Her wine was also a little softer on the palate with fruit flavors. Mine was more edge and brightness than fruit with a strong acidity and clean finish. Flavors were more of gooseberry and asparagus. We moved on to Chardonnays next, again with Jess tasting the Manor House (2008) and I the Winemaster’s Reserve (2009). Jess’ wine was soft and pleasant on the nose with a hint of green apple and toast but it was thin on the palate and left no more flavor then the light acidity that finished it. My wine was bright fruit and softness with a hint of butter and toast on the palate. It was nice, but it wasn’t winning me over. Next on the Winemaster’s Reserve tasting was a Cabernet Sauvignon Rosé (2009) that was a new addition to Nederburg’s line up. Here was a wine that exploded with bright ripe fruit on the tongue that finished softly yet with a firmness and bright acidity that both cleansed and refreshed the palate. As a few of you may know, dry rosés are becoming a bit of a pet passion for me and this one was a standout. This was a wine that was purpose built for hot summer day drinking, so perfect for Africa. The next wine on the Manor House list was the Cabernet Sauvignon (2008). This wine was still quite dense with a good balance but huge structure. There were all the right elements, blackberry, cassis, subtle earth notes, but it was still too young for me to give an honest review of it. However, I would love to visit this wine a few years from now and see how it’s developed. Jess moved on to the Manor house Shiraz (2008). This wine made me realize that along with Chenin Blanc and Pinotage, South Africa’s standout varietals, I needed to start paying attention to its Shiraz as well. This wine was enticingly dark and spicy on the nose with stewed fruit. On the palate it was hedonistically jammy without being overripe. It followed through with toast and woody spices with a beautifully round and soft structure. This wine was drinking very well when we tasted it but I am sure will only get better over the next few years. We moved on to the WInemaster’s Reserve Baronne (2009). This was a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz. It was bright and blushing with ripe fruit but the tannins were still quite large and a touch harsh. Next for both of us was the Ingenuity White Blend (2009). This wine is an eight way blend of which I was actually able to pick out five varietals, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Chenin Blanc, Riesling, and Gewürztraminer. This wine was beautifully unique. One could find all of the varietals individually in the glass and yet it all came together into one ethereal and gorgeous wine. In the tasting room I described this wine as “sexy” and got laughed at by my wife, but I still stand by this assessment. This wine was more of an experience, like eating at Schwa, all the ingredients were fantastic apart, but they came together as a revelation. I was heartbroken to find out that this wine wasn’t exported to the states. Our final wines at Nederburg where, the Winemaker’s Reserve Edelrood (2008) (a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot) and the Ingenuity Red Blend (2007) (an Italian blend). Between the two Ingenuitys the Edelrood is a bit of a blur. I remember it being nice but in need of some more cellaring. The Ingenuity Red was the most focused and polished wine we had at Nederburg. This wine had layers and layers of spice and dark ripe fruit in both the glass and on the palate. It was big, strong, and bold and yet the tannins were round and lush. This wine finished forever and was probably the most complex wine we would taste on our trip.

Our next stop, and last stop in Paarl, was at Seidelberg. This stop was more for lunch than tasting, but when in Rome. On the whole the wines here where pleasant, fruit filled, straightforward wines. They were all easy drinking and quality, but not really much to write home about. So for the most part I won’t. I will say that if you find these wines in the states at a reasonable price, you will not be disappointed in your purchase. These wines are workhorses and will pair beautifully with food. There were a couple of exceptional exceptions though. The first was the Roland’s Reserve Syrah (2006). I don’t know who Roland is, but he obviously knows his Shiraz. My tasting notes from that day are as follows: “Beautifully soft and round, brooding dark fruit and dark chocolate, long finish, focused and polished.” And that is about everything I love in my Shiraz. The other standout was Cecilia (2006). This wine is a blend of Shiraz, Mourvedre, and Malbec. This wine had beautifully ripe fruit, a strong tannic structure and bright acidity that all added up to a deliciously rustic wine. It ended up pairing perfectly with the plate of charcuterie that we had for lunch.

The next morning we headed to Franschoek and our first stop was at Boschendal. I was really excited about this winery as it was highly recommended in the Wine Bible. Unfortunately the tasting was disappointing. Most all of the wines that we tasted were one note and flat. These were easy drinking wines at best. There was a Shiraz that evoked the most passionate response from both of us which was, “I just don’t know about this one”. There was also a Bordeaux blend that was over manipulated. It was not the best way to start the day.

We then pulled into L’Ormarins which has been renamed Anthony Rupert. These were by far the most internationally styled wines that we tasted on our trip. These wines are divided under several labels and we tasted from the Terra del Capo and L’Ormarins labels. We started with the Terra del Capo Pinot Grigio (2010). As some of you may be aware, I am not a fan of Pinot Grigio. It is seldom done right and ends up being a wine with very little flavor and too much acidity. This one was definitely done right. There were hints of tropical fruit to be found in the lovely floral nose. The fruit revealed itself fully on the palate with a light touch of herbaceous quality. The wine was well balanced and had a remarkably long finish. The next wine was the L’Ormarins Sauvignon Blanc (2009). These grapes are grown at a high altitude which results in lots of citrus fruit and green notes throughout the wine. It too had a lingering finish. We then tried the L’Ormarins Chardonnay (2008). This wine had vibrant and crisp fruit of pear and green apple enveloped in butter and toast. The body was creamy and soft with a pleasant and clean finish. Next came the reads lead off by the Terra del Capo Sangiovese (2008) which was delicately light with ripe fruit and firm structure. I found this wine to be delicious on its own but it would be an amazing food wine. The next was the Terra del Capo Arné (2006) which is a blend of equal parts Sangiovese and Merlot. The interesting thing about this wine was that unlike most blends, where the individual varietals are fermented separately and then blended, the grapes in this wine were fermented together. The wine was full of ripe fruit with subtle notes of earth and tobacco and chocolate. It was lush and round and delicate. Again the words polished and focused came to mind. The final red was the L’Ormarins Optima (2006), a Bordeaux blend. This wine was also surprisingly light bodied but it’s delicacy enhanced its subtle flavors of earth, cigar box, and spice that were playing behind its fruit of blackberry and cassis. Overall, Jess and I were very impressed with the offerings here. It had more than made up for our disappointing start to the day.

We ended the day at Delaire, the winery in the clouds. The main purpose of this trip was for Jess to snap photos. As the name suggests, the winery is high up in the mountains and offers spectacular vistas and views. I decided that while she ran around and snapped photos till her heart’s content I would do the tasting. Once again, while in Rome. I was skeptical at first as it seems the winery had transformed more into a high-end resort but I was very glad I did in the end. These were my favorite wines overall from the trip. I was so enthralled by them that I didn’t bother taking notes. So I can only relate to you my overall impressions as I remember them. I tried a Cabernet Franc Rosé (2010) which I remember as being full of strawberry and cassis with a hinting at sweetness. It was delicious and I knew then that I was in for something special. The next was a Sauvignon Blanc (2010) that was varietaly correct with immense focus and bright acidity. There was a Shiraz (2009) that was also amazing in its varietal correctness, a perfect portrait of the grape as wine, faultless. There were two Bordeaux blends that were also fantastic. Though they weren’t replicas of Bordeaux wines, they were evidence to the argument that wines are better when they are blends. Each varietal added something to the wines which were greater than the sum of their parts. Though I forgot to take notes here, I didn’t forget to get distribution information for the Sates so that I could drink them again.

The following morning started with a stop at Kanonkop. This winery came highly recommended from other tasting rooms as a place that made truly South African wines. And that would turn out to be the theme of the day. Finding out the difference between South African wines made for South Africans, and those made for an international market. Finally we were getting to the heart of it all. It was this day that I would soon be able to understand the place and its people through its wines.

Kanonkop was a fantastic starting point for the day. They only make 5 wines of which we were able to taste 3. We started with the Kadette Pinotage Dry Rosé (2010). This rosé was light and straightforward wine. It was fruity and refreshing, and all around crowd pleaser. Then we tasted the Pinotage (2009) which though it wasn’t necessarily the best Pinotage we tasted, it was one of my favorites. It was full of ripe fruit and subtle earth tones. The flavors were almost rustic but the wine itself was well crafted with good structure and a long finish. Where we had tasted Pinotages that were made in a sleek and soft style like a Merlot, this wine was allowed to express its varietal’s true nature, hearty and rustic. This wine was straight forward, delicious, and food friendly. The final wine was the Paul Sauer (2007). I don’t recall what the blend was (though I want to say that it was a Bordeaux blend with a little Pinotage in it). I do remember that this was a bold wine though with a lightness on the palate. Again the layers and complexity weren’t there, but what was there was a magnificently polished fruit forward wine with enticing accents of cigar box and cocoa. Here was the final and most important revelation of the trip. When South Africans make wines for South Africans, the wines are magnificent expressions of fruit with polished and focused structures. These are wines that are easily drunk on their own all night and easily paired with food. There was none of the largeness of California Cabs and there was no need to age these wines for long periods like Bordeuax. These wines were fantastic on release and would age well. They were not collectables, but they were infinitely versatile wines.

The other great thing about Kanonkop was the gentlemen doing our tasting. Not only was he a wealth of information about the region and its history, but he also helped us map out the rest of our day. He laid out a tour of wineries that would illustrate South African wines made for South Africans. As he put it, “You don’t understand our wines and we don’t understand yours.” So Jess and I set out to understand their wines.

The next stop was Bellevue Estate. This is one of the oldest wine farms in South Africa. Bellevue produces two labels, the first is the Morkel label which is the traditional family run label, and the second is the Sizanani Label which is actually produced by the farm workers themselves. Both labels had some delicious wines. We started with the Morkel Sauvignon Blanc (2009) which was bursting with tart green apples with vibrant acidity and a light finish. Then we moved on to Pinotages. First was the Sizanani Pinotage (2008). This wine was light on the palate and full of ripe fruits. With good structure and a long finish this was another food friendly wine. The Morkel Pinotage (2008) had a little more structure and more earthy notes and hints of oak and vanilla. We finished with the Morkel Tumara (2005), another Bordeaux blend. This one was quite jammy and soft and light on the palate. It finished brightly as well, though I didn’t enjoy it near as much as the Pinotages.

We then made our way to Simonsig which specializes in sparkling wines but also has a long list of still wines. Though I tried one of the sparklers, the Kaapse Vonkel, I was less than impressed. It was musty and sour where it should have been bright and crisp. Luckily the still wines were more impressive. We started there with the Chenin Avec Chêne (2009). This Chenin Blanc was fantastic. There was a touch of oak that mellowed the fruit to make it soft and lush on the palate. There was a level of restraint by the winemaker that could be tasted and it had done wonders for this wine. With higher hopes for this winery now established I moved on to the Viognier Sur lie en barrique (2007). As the French translation implies, this wine sits on its lees for 12 months in the barrel. The result is a buttery and smooth wine with light fruit and a delicate acidity. Next was the Redhill Pinotage (2008) named after the red soil in which it grows. This wine showed classic characteristics like bright and ripe dark skinned fruits with a soft finish with hints of vanilla. Then there was the Merindol Syrah (2007) which smelled of earth, spice and stewed fruit. It was the same on the palate with the spice coming through strong on the finish. This wine was bigger and quite bold, a nice wine to revisit in a couple more years. We finished with the Tiara (2004) which was another Bordeaux blend. This wine had pleasant fruit and a nice structure and was impeccably balanced, but it lacked the character of the single varietal offerings.

The next stop was by far our favorite and one of the best wine farms we visited, Mooiplaas Estate. We started with our favorite wine of the trip, the Chenin Blanc (2010). Here was a wine with complexity and layers. The fruit was light and delicate and nuanced. The wine was lush in the mouth, perfectly balanced, and had a refreshing finish that finished forever. This wine is sold on winepress.com and I immediately wanted to go online and order a bottle to be delivered to all of my wine loving friends back home so that they too could taste this amazing wine. We next tasted the Sauvignon Blanc (2010). This wine was bright and lively displaying all that I love in a Sauvignon Blanc, seductive tropical fruits and soft green notes. It was light and delicate with a softness that came from a touch of oak. Next was the Langtafel Rosé (2009) which was another bright and refreshing pink wine. We moved on to the Pinotage (2007) which had been made in a light and fruity style that could be served lightly chilled. Its fruit was lively and expressive which made the wine easy to drink. Then there was a Cabernet Franc (2006). As a few of you may know, I am a big fan of Cab Franc as a single varietal wine. It has a character uniquely all its own that I am a sucker for. This wine was no exception. Full of earth, spice, tobacco, cigar box, and dark brooding fruit that always remind me of the wine and the soil, this was a beautiful expression of place. The tannins were still a little aggressive and this wine needs time to lay and mellow, but I really wanted a case of it to hold onto and wait for. We finished with The Bean (2009). This wine is what is referred to in South Africa as a coffee Pinotage. An interesting wine, the Pinotage is heavily manipulated with oak in order to extract the strongest coffee characteristics from the grape. A bit of a novelty that is in high fashion right now, the wine had fruit that was jammy bordering on the sweet and finished with solidly coffee flavor. Apparently this wine is introducing a whole new section of the wine drinking population to red wines with its easy drinking, familiar flavors, and low tannins.

We finished the day at Kliene Zalze where we tasted several Chenin Blancs. There was a barrel fermented Chenin that I enjoyed for its softness and a Select Cuvee (2007) that I liked because it was made with a hint of sweetness in a classic French style. All had nice fruit and delicate acidity. There was also a bracing Chardonnay and a disappointing Pinot Noir. Overall, the Chenins were nice wines, but everything else seemed to lack.

The last day included two wineries which I don’t have tasting notes for, Tokara and Verde en Lust. Both had amazing views and vistas and two of our favorite tasting rooms. Both offered wines that were, as we realized now, quintessentially South African. Beautiful fruit, great structure, and focused. All of the wines were great for drinking on their own and exceptionally food friendly. I would recommend any wines you might come across from either winery. And I think that sums up our trip nicely. South African wines are focused and polished. And even though they may lack a level of complexity that we wine lovers, well, love, they drink beautifully on their own, pair well with food, and, if the import tax isn’t too steep, are a really good buy for the money. Almost 90% of the wines we tasted and fell in love with cost between 60 and 100 Rands. That converts to roughly $9 -$15! So even if the price doubles with import taxes that’s still only $20 - $30, and believe me, these wines drink far better than that. I know I will be paying a lot more attention to South African wines both here and when we come home.

Travelogue: Wine Country

Jess writes:

We arrived in Stellenbosch on a late, December (yet summery) afternoon – it was difficult to be entirely frustrated by the complete lack of proper directions to our backpacker as we were surrounded by unbelievably beautiful Cape Dutch buildings and oak lined streets. Stellenbosch, South Africa’s second-oldest European settlement (established in 1679), still looks today like a Victorian blast from the past, and is pretty amazing… even just to be lost in.

When we finally arrived at Stumble Inn, we set up our comfortable “base camp” for our 5 Day Wine Country Tour – easily the most anticipated trip for Adam. We had heard of the Pinotages, the Chenin Blancs, the food, and the scenery… but now we were finally here! And even though it was already past midday, we figured, why wait?? So back out we go to start our touring…

Wine Country Tour – Day 1:

After a brief lunch at Java Café of smoked salmon wraps and cold drink (ahh, the food is already proving to be up to the hype!), we followed the map up the main road from Stellenbosch to L’Avenir, an easy jaunt from downtown but with an almost introductory status in the wine region – good views, good Pinotage, good service. And more than ‘good’ it was! From the driveway, we looked out upon the rolling hills and jagged grey and black mountains of rock that surround the entire valley. Bright purple, orange, and yellow flowers were in bloom and the greens were as bright and diverse as the summer could muster – grasses, trees, shrubs, and vines – like a water color backdrop on an oil painting! The tasting room at L’Avenir was almost equally as impressive, with huge black & white photography of the local, day-to-day life – cows being herded into pens, large village women picking grapes in the vineyards, the sun setting behind the last-lit trees – as well as the obligatory stack of bottles (but these were filled with rose, which made for a pretty cool effect) and some barrels strewn about the room.

The woman there suggested that we make a stop at Muratie Estate, just up the road, even though we would probably forego their tastings that specialized in sweet wines. The winery, she explained, was one of the oldest in existence and had been left, quite literally, untouched while still in operation. This was worth a visit… We pulled into an field that served doubly as a parking lot and walked up the unmanicured paths to the main building. Entering the winery itself was like walking into a themed Disney ride – with suddenly cool air, cold and moist rock walls, and an abundance of cobwebs that looked to be older than even the crumbling foundations outside. The tasting rooms were built with arched stone and decorated with everything from animal skin rugs to realism-style paintings in gawdy frames. And while we did choose to pass up on the tastings (Adam decided anything that smelled this old simply could not provide a pleasant tasting experience!) the look around alone was well worth the time!

Wine Country Tour – Day 2:

A late morning stop at Mila’s Cake Shop for the biggest and fluffiest croissants with bread and jam, accompanied by extremely strong French-press coffee, and then we were off…

Day 2 would be spent almost entirely in Paarl – and area with the least amount of literature and only a handful of well-known vineyards. This would certainly turn out to be a day of happenchance!

We headed straight to Nederburg, the only winery listed in both The Wine Bible and Lonely Planet as a must-see in the Paarl region. The drive out there took us through meandering townships and oddly situated villages, leading us to wonder whether or not Paarl would be worth the visit at all. But upon entry into the Nederburg Estates, we enjoyed a leisurely drive through more familiar, vineyard-esque terrain to the expansive Nederburg visitor and tasting center. We spent a couple hours there enjoying two different ranges of tastings (from their “Manor House” to their “Winemaster’s Reserve” selections) and chatted at length with one of the proprietor’s about the growing styles of the regional grapes, the history of the Paarl estates, and her suggestions for other top picks.

After Nederburg, we made a quick stop at Fairview Winery with the intention of experiencing their well-known lunches at the Goatshead Eatery. With lunchtime in full-swing, we opted only to look around and take in the unique lure of Fairview – a goat turret with wrap around stairs that serves as a goat tower marking the center of the estate. And yes, it houses actual goats which are the mascot of Fairview’s trademark “Goats do Roam” reserve wines! How clever!

With the thought of food still on the brain (or rather, stomach), we wandered further up the road to another local suggestion – Seidelberg Wine Estate. Seidelberg’s location is atop one of the higher ranges in Paarl, lending to incredible views of the vineyards and valleys below. In their old-style tasting room we enjoyed some interesting whites before opting for a relaxing picnic of meats, olives and cheeses on their grassy front lawn, overlooking the scenery. Ahhhh…

Making our way back to Stellenbosch, we took another road with gorgeous views of the western edges of the wine region. In the far distance, hidden partially by late afternoon haze, we could see the large white cloud beginning its descent over Table Mountain in Cape Town. The “Table Cloth”, as they call it, was a pretty magnificient image to end our second day!

Wine Country Tour – Day 3:

We headed out early to make it to Franschoek in time for the first tastings of the morning. This, after Stellenbosch itself, is one of the top-rated wine valleys in the region, with at least a dozen of suggestions from The Wine Bible, Lonely Planet, and winery locals – not to mention the rave reviews about their food (they were settled by French Huegenots, afterall)!

First to Boschendal Winery – a staple amongst the Franschoek vineyards, known largely for its intriguing blends. The impressive, tree-lined entry led to fields of bush grapes and young vines below some of the parts of the valley’s mountain ranges. The tasting room itself was set along one side of a grassy quad, flanked by Cape Dutch buildings and a stable – pretty impressive!

After a quick drive through town to get our bearings, we made our way to L’Ormarins (or Anthony Rupert Winery, as it is now known) and took the rather lengthy drive up the hills to their main visitor’s center… which, to our surprise, was also an antique and exotic car museum!! We meandered a bit and marveled not only at the two Ferrari Californias, Aston DB9, and Jaguar XKR (Adam obviously knew the actual models, not myself…), but also the nifty selection of antique Buicks, Fords, and Cadillacs! From there, we were taxied even further up into the hills to the actual winery, with a tasting room perched amidst an old Dutch estate with incredible views of the Franschoek valley below. Our tasting there was perhaps one of the most informative, with stories about how wines were named after friends of past vintners and tales of adventure during the L’Ormarins legacy.

With empty stomachs, we headed just up the road to Moreson to try out their new Bread & Wine restaurant and it’s acclaimed charcuterie menu… oh yes, acclaimed it is!! With a couple glasses of white in hand, we munched away the rest of the afternoon on salamis, hams, soft & hard cheeses, hand-made and spiced butter, artisan breads and, of course, plenty of olives! Oh yum!!

As evening was approaching, we began the journey from one valley to the next, over the mountains, to Stellenbosch. On our way, we noticed that DeLaire Winery was still open for tastings, and since we had heard so much about their incredible views, we figured a quick stop for some sunset photos might not be a bad idea. This, surprisingly, was one of our best stops of the entire Wine Tour Week… the views from DeLaire – the highest situated vineyard in the entire region – were unbelievably breathtaking and the sun setting over the mountains cast shadows and a pink glow over the green hills, purple flowers, and rolling vineyards below. Yeah… pretty amazing! And the outside was just the beginning – inside, DeLaire was more a modern art museum-turned-tasting-venue with massive oil canvasses, sculptures, water features, and ornate lighting fixtures. It was difficult not to walk around the entire area – both inside and out – without a gaping mouth. But the views and décor were only a bonus! Because on a whim, Adam decided to do a tasting while I was snapping away a gigabyte or two of photo space and, again, much to our surprise, these were some of the best reds we tasted all week!! I will let him do the full explanations in his post on tastings, but suffice it to say that we were both taken aback!

Finally back at “base camp”, we stumbled away from The Stumble Inn for some grub in town and, per usual, we were indecisive on what to eat, so we wandered until something caught our eye: Japanese Tapas. Yes, we could do that. Genki – a Japanese restaurant, with a rather old Japanese sushi chef – was set back in a courtyard amongst niche storefronts. Its interior posted mirror-mosaiced walls, bamboo texturing, and an unbelievable amount of pink and red Chinese lanterns lighting the ceiling. Again yes, we could do that. We ordered reasonably light since we had already pushed the limits of our budget on Franschoek that day, but decided upon first bite that this was some of the best Japenese food we had ever had… ever! We both ordered simple starters and rather light meals, but as we were quick to discover, there was nothing simple or light in this Japanese – my miso soup was the most unbelievably complex and flavorful miso concoction, the sashimi salad was divine with the freshest cuts of salmon and line fish in a spicy sesame dressing, the tempura prawns were enormous and perfectly battered, and of course, the sushi and nigiri were perfection. Yes, we did do that. In fact, we did it again before leaving the area and would have fit in another visit if time allowed… it was that good!

Wine Country Tour – Day 4:

Today was our semi-pre-scheduled, whirl-wind tour of anything and everything Stellenbosch had to offer… and what a day!

First stop was at Kanonkop for some of the region’s most “classic” Pinotages and a quick spin around their small wine estate – the highlight of which was a quote above the entrance that read: “Pinotage is the juice extracted from women’s tongues and lions’ hearts… After having a sufficient quantity one can talk forever and fight the devil.” Amazing!! The gentleman who assisted our tasting was particularly helpful and virtually planned the remainder of our Stellenbosch tour for us, with suggestions and honest opinions on the very long list of potential stops for the day.

Per suggestion, we made our next visit to Simonsig Vineyards, for another style of “classic” Pinotages, as well as some of the region’s only sparkling wines. Their tasting room boasted some of the most interesting décor to date – with chandeliers made entirely out of china serving sets (yes, think plates, bowls, and saucers) and a mélange of photography, drawings, and oddly chosen sculptures. Nevertheless, we did get to see Simonsig’s “classic” side when one of the proprietors opened a sparking white wine bottle with a saber… impressive!

Next up was Bellevue Estate – along with Muratie, one of the oldest in Stellenbosch, established in 1701 – and looking probably not much different than it did in its first few years. The tasting room was small, dusty, and smelled of years and years of crushing, fermenting and bottling. Outside, there were large expanses of open green fields where vineyards once stood (they are now further up on the hills) and Morgen horses have now taken the place of red and green grapes.

After what seemed like an indeterminably long drive, up unkempt dirt roads, following small and virtually illegible signs, we arrived at our fourth stop of the day – Mooiplaas Winery. As we pulled into their small dirt lot, almost a half hour after leaving the main road, Adam and I were fairly convinced that this would not be worth the time and effort it took to get there. We were, quite happily, very wrong. Mooiplaas’s out-of-the-way and way-the-hell-up-there location makes for some of the most interesting and incredible whites in the entire area. In particular, their Chenin Blanc (which again, I’m sure Adam will discuss in much more detail) was by far the best white wine I have ever experienced… and that’s saying a lot coming from a girl that has a strong preference to her beloved reds. We were also the only visitors at the tasting room upon our arrival, so the tasting manager was keen to explain – in quite a bit of detail – the ways in which their whites compared with others in the region, versus reds in the region, and how this was all done with certain growing, bottling and aging techniques. And did I mention that they had my favorite tasting room of all? Entirely stone – with large stone slabs for tasting tables, a rugged stone wall extending to the height of the ceiling, and beautifully marbled and naturally chipped stone floors. Cool, stark, and yet one of the most inviting rooms I’ve ever seen. What a great stop!

Last but not least, though mostly in search of food, we made a stop on the outer edges of Stellenbosch at Kleine Zalze. This long standing estate has been producing easy drinking wines since 1695, but unfortunately, their restaurant was overpriced, so we did not stay long. Shame.

Back in town, we had made reservations at a local, ‘must-dine’ restaurant called Volkskombuis & De Oewer. We felt a bit like Anthony Bourdain in “No Reservations”, but having been in this country for almost a year and never trying traditional, Afrikaans (Cape Malay) cooking, we figured we would give it a go. Not to mention, this place is suppose to be the best of the best… so why not? The meal: we started with a popular appetizer of schnook (shredded fish and spices), Adam ordered the ox-tail strew, and I ordered a tasting tri of chicken pie, bobotie (a spiced mince), and a ‘water lily’ (read as: meat) stew… what a feast of meat!! I could only get about a third of the way through my mean before I was about to burst!!! And while it was a great culinary adventure, I’m not so certain that we would ever have the ‘urge’ for that style again. Nevertheless, we found a lot of pleasure in discovering that there is one nationality that can officially eat more than Americans… and they do!

Wine Country Tour – Day 5:

Our final day in Wine Country was a wrap-up of ‘must-sees’ and ‘must-dos’ that we had not quite yet fit in. But it was, nonetheless, one of our most relaxed and enjoyable days in the region.

First, a stop at Tokara in the early afternoon to take in the views (it is situated in an area similar to DeLaire) and absorb the modern-art-lovers-esque style of the winery itself. While walking down hallways lined with canvasses painted in various varietals of red wine, reading the branches of the sculpted “Poetree” (read: “Poetry Tree”) outside, and marveling at the largest no-casing clock I’ve ever seen (Dad would have loved this one!), we enjoyed not only a free tasting of Tokara’s interesting reds, but also some of their incredible olive oils. Rosés, bread, and olive oil – now that’s what I call brunch!

From there we headed straight back through downtown Franschoek to make a reservation at Café Bon Bon, located in the Kleine Dauphine Wine Estate. This lunch, planned weeks in advance, was my belated birthday feast, saved especially for the French cuisine stylings of the Franschoek valley. We sat on the patio leisurely, enjoying a birthday lunch of meats, cheeses, olives, breads, butters (oh, and that was just the starter…), as well as artisan salads and pork belly! Yummy!!

Headed back towards Stellenbosch, we made one final stop at Vrede en Lust Winery, with their long, stone entranceway and amazing tasting room vista views. This was one of the most impressive tasting rooms we had seen yet, with long mahogany tables decorated with white orchids, overstuffed leather couches beside tables with antique estate books, and a breeze patio leading directly into the vineyards at the foothill of the mountains! All the women in the tasting room wore fashionable, bright red, dresses and were well-versed in the colorful history of the estate. The wines themselves ranged from chilled whites, to bold reds, and even a blush blend called “Jess” – how nice!

Once we had arrived back to “base camp”, we spent a lazy evening at The Stumble Inn with some fellow, now-familiar, travelers and made one last outing to my new favorite stop in town – a gellateria that served a dark chocolate and orange ice cream confection that was purely divine!! Adam also partook in some spirits at the Inn’s local haunt – The Trumpet Tree – for one last taste of Stellenbosch’s buffet of offerings to wine-lovers, food-lovers, and travel-lovers alike.

Thus – filled to the brim with Pinotages, Chenin Blancs, and high-growing blends; bursting at the seams with breakfast pastries, charcuterie plates, Japanese Tapas, and don’t forget the gelato; and feeling as though we had experienced a complete immersion in the astounding beauty that is the vineyards, hills, and mountains of South Africa’s wine region… we contentedly fell asleep on that last night.

Goodnight Stellenbosch. Goodbye Wine Country. Thanks for the indulgence of a lifetime!!