Incredible !ndia

On the side of the tourism buses here, they say "Incredible !ndia"and then underneath it says "The Mantra to Woo Tourist"

That's hilarious, and had to use it to title my blog.

So.

Before every port we have a cultural pre-port, where we learn about the culture and customs of the country, and a logistical pre-port, where we learn about the logistics of the port like security, food, safety, which side of the ship the gangway is, et cetera.

At the logistical pre-port before India, Les McCabe, the executive dean, told us that of all the countries SAS students go, they say India changes them the most. He told us to be prepared to be changed, because India is something special.

Today I went to see the MICE (Mobile Interactive Computer Ensemble, a group/class of electronic music on the ship) performance. I had no idea that it was a performance at SRM, a University in Chennai. What I was expecting was a small MICE concert, but what I got was a chance to meet many Indian university students.

When we got there they gave us bindi, which is the mark in between the eyes that you see on many Indian people, as well as a flower. We walked into the auditorium where MICE was to perform, and it was filled with Indian students. They said “Please give a hearty welcome to our American friends!” And every head turned our direction and we were given a huge round of applause. They had saved us front row seats and I sat in front of some Indian students with whom I had some great conversations.

After the performance, we went back up to a conference room where we signed a visitors notebook and had refreshments. They passed a microphone around and I said that their hospitality was incredible. I also said something that astounded me. We showed up, and we're treated like celebrities; we are foreign and new to them. But to us, THEY are the celebrities! So we are each seeing each other as something special.

Though it was short, these students were not unlike me and friends that I have, except they are all majoring in engineering, technology, or computer science. More often than not, they want to pursue their graduate education somewhere in the United States. Why? Because it's the land of opportunity. Not all of them wanted to stay in the US though, but a lot of them did.

They came from different places in the country, which is divided up into states kind of like the US. Each state has a different language, so most students speak English (or other western language) Hindi, and then an assortment of native languages or state-specific languages.

But the main event was the welcome reception. Not an hour after getting back from the MICE show we hopped on another bus and went to a courtyard somewhere in the city where we were greeted with drums, flowers, and another bindi. Mine got put a little up and left from where it was supposed to be, but that's not a big deal. In the courtyard was dancing, shopping, and lots of food. But more importantly, we were greeted “namaste” by droves of excited, friendly, and happy Indian college students.

I ate some food. The names are hard to remember, but it was all very good. I took a big hunk of some chutney that was spicy and the guy I was sitting with, Nabil, thought it was funny because to him it's not spicy at all. I didn't use silverware, just my hands, to scoop up the food and put it in my mouth. I didn't even have a table, just the plate, and the plate was generous; the tradition is to eat off of a banana leaf on the floor. (what's with me and the semi-colons? That's like the second one I've used).

I spoke to guys and girls alike, but after a while I had gotten deep in conversation with a few guys. One of the most fascinating things was the difference in marriage. In India, marriages are arranged. They told us that at the pre-port and all that stuff but it was interested to hear the process:

The parents can present a possible bride to their son, who then goes to the bride's house as she speaks for a while. If there is a mutual feeling of possibility, they will get married. If not, then it is nothing rude, the families will politely decline.

They were surprised by how we date and have relationships before marriage. To us, marriage is the last step. To them, it's the first. But there is a lot less pressure on it when your family plays a large role in deciding who you marry. They really trust their parents to find someone good, and if the son or daughter doesn't like the other person, then it's a no-go. Every family in India is huge and the parental/familial support is a major part of every Indian's life.

In the US, marriage is much easier to come by. Two people who can decide to get married, and if it doesn't work out or they run into problems, divorce. The end. Many more broken families in the US. In India, divorce is very rare. If there are familial problems with a new marriage, the families will work together to make it work.

I always found that the children who were more successful in school were the ones who had a much more solid family life. This may explain why so many more careers, such as doctors, are Indians. In fact, as I have been watching sitcoms that span over the last 20 years, the doctors on shows like Seinfeld and Friends (largely 90s shows) were obviously old Jewish guys. But now, on more modern shows like How I Met Your Mother, the doctors are Indians or other east-Asians.

Are Americans lazy? Maybe. But the emphasis on family that I have seen in the Indian culture really made me thing about my future as a husband and a father. I like to think that my family is pretty strong, and that is a value I will pass on.

Another thing our friends Nabil, DJ (short for a D name and a J name that I cannot remember and if I could I wouldn't be able to type them out), and Hari spoke to us about was how everyone is so friendly. They want to meet us just as we want to meet them. Someone at a post-port reflections after South Africa mentioned how in SA everyone was so friendly, accepting us as tourists and helping us, and how sometimes in the US we scoff at them and watch them as they get lost instead of helping them. I brought this up with these guys and I told them that their hospitality has inspired me to, when I see tourists, really reach out a helping hand.

Nabil told us to take India back home by remembering their culture and their customs, and being friendly to all we meet, just as they are. I told him I wish I could pick up India and take it back into my home. But he said something different.

“Pick up India and put it in your heart.”

On the first day of India, I am already in love with it, and I already know I am going to be sad to leave.

Slumblog Millionaire

After the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, they showed Slumdog Millionare. For those of you who live under a rock, it won Best Picture this year.

I watched it and loved it. I thought it was much better than No Country for Old Men (last year's best picture). In fact, I thought it was better than a lot of the movies that have been recently nominated for Best Picture in the last few years. Finally, a beautiful, simple, love story wins the Academy Award, not something that breaks the mold. I'm not saying breaking the mold is bad, I enjoyed No Country and other films that don't stick to a typical formula, but it's nice to see the classical Hollywood structure win an Academy Award.

This is only in terms of the structure of the script. The film was beautifully shot and acted and everything that Best Picture deserves. And I loved the film. Not only because it engaged me and all that stuff, but as a screenwriter I found that the script was really good, and incredibly well structured, and that's kind of what I want to talk about in this blog.

STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT.

I would not describe this movie as “a story about a child from the slums of India who wins a million dollars on the millionaire show in India and why he knew the answer to each question” This is how it was originally described to me, and my original reaction was “whoopty do” I already read that story. It's called “The View From Saturday”and won a Newberry Award.

I would describe this film as “a story about a child from the slums of India who chases the girl of his destiny, framed by his appearance on the millionaire show”

Jamal only went on the millionaire show to get Latika's attention, to find her. He didn't go on the show to win the money. It was purely destiny, i.e. “It is written”that he knew the answer to each question. The way it was originally described to me made it seem like the kid goes on the show to win the money, he's smart, yay, and that's the end. The way it really is is that he never cared about the money, he was just in love.

I am willing to bet that all the major turning points in the film (and my turning points I mean when we got from Act I into Act II and from Act II into Act III) have to do with Jamal's pursuit of Latika, rather than any tension in the millionaire show. If you take out all of the millionaire show footage, you would see a love story, where boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, while overcoming immense hardship in his own life.

What I'm really trying to say is that the structure of this film was impeccable, and I learned a lot from it. I was thoroughly impressed with the film and am very, very glad that it won Best Picture. It reminded me why I love to write, and has furthered my inspiration to pursue it as a career.

Can't Torch This

After we were all back on the ship after our various Mauritius adventures, the Sea Olympics began. We lit the sea olympics torch in our opening ceremonies, where each sea-

Hold on. Back up. Some background info.

The cabins on the ship are divided into seas, much like halls in a regular dorm. They are named after seas, such as the Mediterranean Sea, Bearing Sea, and my personal sea, the Yellow Sea. Each sea as an LLC, aka a “learning-living coordinator” who is usually a professional in some kind of working-with-people field and range in all ages. They are really awesome people. Mine is named Laurie, which is weird to call her Laurie because my mom's name is Lori which is a name I almost never say.

Ok, back to story.

-presents a flag, cheer, and mascot. Our theme was Yellow Fever, like the disease. I was a co-captain for our sea, and I was also the mascot. I went shirtless, and had post-its all over me. Our catch-phrase “no cure no hope”was written on larger post-its on my chest and the countless symptoms of the disease were written on smaller ones all over my body. I had band-aids here and there, a bloody nose, black vomit collecting in the corner of my mouth, and a bandage on my head. We presented our cheer and flag and it was awesome.

The next day was full of events like volleyball, work-out relay, pictionary, sudoku, everything for athletic people and brainy people. The seas were really into it and it was a whole lot of fun. My sea ended up taking third place, tied with two other seas out of the 10 seas there were total. The faculty and staff, some kids and lifelong learners (people who have paid to go on this voyage and continue their lifelong quest for knowledge) were in a sea called the “Oddies-C” which is a really cute pun. The professors beat me and my team mate at sudoku by a millisecond. I was sad. Oh well.

For the first time during the whole trip, I had a moment where I actually thought about home and friends and things I've left behind. I have learned that I don't really miss things when I am away, but during the synchronized swimming competition, I remembered Newsies and the Goofy Movie performances and during the Olympics as a whole I remembered camp and Maccabiah. And I thought about them both. So for everyone back at Chapman, Newsies, and Camp people, I officially say hello and thanks for some wonderful memories.

Delicious Mauritius

For those of you who don't know what or where Mauritius is (as I didn't prior to this voyage) it is a small island not too far from the east coast of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. It was colonized by Dutch, French, and English people but now currently has mostly Indians living there.

We stopped in Port Louis, Mauritius for one day only. It was basically a day off of school. After the diplomatic meeting, Isaiah, Butters, Taylor, and I headed off for our catamaran and snorkeling adventure. The bus ride took about an hour and at around 10 or 10 30 we got on one of four catamarans full of students from SAS.

This was one of the most relaxing experiences ever. We hovered out in the Indian Ocean, with the clearest blue water I have ever seen, snorkeling, jumping, swimming, socializing, tanning, and hanging out with professors. That's right, some professors came, including the academic dean Reg Garrett (with whom I got a few pictures) who took a pretty daring jump off of the side of a catamaran, and my personal marine biology teacher John Kastendiek, who helped me identify some creatures we found in the ocean.

Never would I have ever had an experience to go snorkel with a professor, who could tell me what I am seeing right then and there, and remind me that we did, in fact, learn about them. I think it was a good call on our part to take a marine biology class while we're out on the ocean. It just seemed like a cool thing to do, and after seeing things in the ocean that I had learned about, I felt more knowledgeable about the marine world.

We were on the catamaran from 10 until 4-ish. The lunch they gave us consisted of garlic bread, potatoes and onions, rice, skewered beef and some kind of fish. I ate it all. Yes mom, fish too.

After the catamaran we went quickly into town by way of water taxi to buy patches and flags and various other souvenirs, and retreated back to the ship for a BBQ by the pool.

We weren't in Mauritius very long, but I really enjoyed it. I got a small taste of the culture but a larger taste of the tropical marine life, and I don't feel bad about taking some time away from learning about the people of nation in favor of learning about the marine life of a nation.

Picture this...

I am in an internet cafe in the mall in the V and A Waterfront in South Africa, and I'm posting some pictures! I think they got posted in reverse order. Basically, everything where I have hair is Spain or Morocco and everything after is Namibia or South Africa.

Cape Capers

I apologize for these blogs being out of chronological order. I will do my best to steer you in the right direction, datewise. This particular blog will have four parts.

PART ONE: Day One Feb 18

Arrival in South Africa was a little later than expected due to fog, but we made it, albeit a few hours late. After a diplomatic briefing, I had about an hour before my official SAS trip to Robben Island so we checked out the mall that is right on the waterfront where our ship is docked. It is a huge mall, the likes of something found in the USA. We got pizza for lunch for really cheap then headed out to Robben Island.

Robben Island is off the cost of South Africa and was a prison Island for many many years. A long time ago, sometime in the 19th Century they threw all the lepers there, but after that it became a prison for criminals and political “criminals.” It is where Nelson Mandela spent many of his years in jail. Our tour guide was an inmate when he was a teenager, and he had some very insightful things to say. The island is now a museum, creating jobs for many South Africans, where the unemployment rate is somewhere around 43%.

After Robben Island a group of 7 of us went to a restaurant called Moyo. This was an incredible place! First, our taxi driver, Esmun, was the best guy ever. He charged us a really reasonable rate and even waited for us while we spent 3 and ½ hours at this place.

We get there at we can see fire on sticks and tents and music playing and smoke and succulent aromas tickling our noses. Inside is a maze of trees and stepping stones weaving their way through tables covered by tents (or covered by leaves, for the tables that were in the trees). There were fountains, mood lights, and couches around fires.

We got to our table under what looked like the main dining tent and had appetizers, priming or bodies for the intake of awesomeness we were about to consume. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet, and hearing my mom telling me to eat as much as I can to make sure it was worth the money, I ate SO MUCH food.
I had beef, springbok (a type of gazelle-it was good!) potatoes, corn, couscous, lots of types of bread and some chocolate cake for dessert!

During dinner they paint your face with little patterns of dots, perform some traditional African dances, and even have a real stage performance. A man with a guitar who was wirelessly plugged into the system walked around the whole place, singing, and somehow we all ended up dancing.

The bathrooms were funny. The urinals in the men's room had ice in them. I was so surprised, after I finished my business, I ran our and found Butters, “Butters! The urinals- you pee on ice!” The metal door to the men's room had some raised bulbous types of sculptures coming out of the door, but in the middle was something that unmistakably resembled something that every man who walks into the restroom had in common. On the girl's bathroom (I did not see, but Butters did, but I could only assume) was the female version of this, with all too much detail.

After almost four hours we decided it was time to go, so we paid our bill, and it was between $20 and $30 a person, depending if you had appetizers or tried the wines. It was unbelievably cheap, and worth every Rand Cent. The taxi ride there and back cost almost as much.

One thing that struck me was on our way to Moyo we passed a township. It's the township I am going to be visiting on Sunday. A township is where many of the lower-income/no-income South Africans live, and they are not the nicest places to be. The houses seem to be made out of scrap metal and crime is high. As I sat eating my venison and enjoying the music, I thought about how lucky I am to be there, and how people by whom I just drove in a taxi will never even get a chance to do anything like that in their lives. There isn't all that much I can do to make a big difference right now, but what I can do is be thankful for what I have, and not take anything for granted.

PART TWO: Day 2 Feb 19

A large group of us walked around the city, making our way to Long Street, the main attraction of the city. We spent some time checking out shops and things, ran in to some friends at a market, and did that whole thing.

But the most interesting thing was how we were FOR SURE targeted for pickpocketing. While I was escorting some of the female members of our group to the bank, a teenaged kid was bugging me to give him a little change. I told him I had no change and kept walking, but then he started to say “one small note, please.” I just ignored him like they said.

When I made it back to where the rest of the group was, I told them what happened and to not give any money because the kid was still watching us, now with another kid around the same age sitting on a corner across the street. It was obvious that he was trying to get me to reveal where I kept my money so that he or someone else could pickpocket us. We left that area.

Then we split up: the girls went to the beach and Me, Taylor, Isaiah, and Butters went to the Two Oceans Aquarium and saw some incredible things. By far the scariest things ever were the giant spider crabs. These things were huge and terrifying. I got some video of them fighting and walking and they send shivers down my spine. We were at the aquarium for about an hour before getting ready to go out to eat and then go to a club that was recommended to us by a friend of a friend who is studying abroad here where there is sand on the floor and is a relaxing place.

Our cab driver was Musta, one of the guys who took us to Moyo the night before. We negotiated a rate for him to take us to the restaurant, The Blue Peter, then to the club, Roots, and then take us back. It was a nominal fee and we were all happy.

The Blue Peter was great! Me and Isaiah split a really intense pizza, and everything was good and cheap. We ate in a large group, half Chapman kids half people we've met on the ship. After dinner some people didn't want to go to the club so they took the other cab back and Musta drove us to Roots.

Before we got there, we entered the neighborhood and it looked a little dodgy (South African for sketchy), but we trudged on. Well into the neighborhood, Musta said he didn't feel safe parking there and we drove past Roots and it was empty anyway. Now we're all uncomfortable because the taxi driver wanted to get the hell out. We saw some people arguing on the road and that was the last straw.

He drove us to a main road where there were clubs on every corner. He parked, waiting for us whenever we were ready. We first waited in line for Tiger Tiger, the hottest club. There was a looooooong line to get in. We learned that we might not get in because I wasn't wearing a collared shirt and some other guys weren't wearing the appropriate shoes. I must have stood out like a sore thumb because all the guys around were really tall and had long hair and were wearing collared shirts, all things that I was not.

We met two colorful characters in line. The first was a tall black guy around our age, who called us “wankers” and I thought we were going to have some trouble but he was just drunk and joking around. It was hard to understand what he was saying through his accent and his drunkenness, but we had a conversation about the US and South Africa, and he went away after about 10 minutes.

The next character was a white guy named James who was very enthusiastic about meeting us and telling us how he has recently gotten into American football and loves to watch the Fantasy Football adverts on youTube. He was a funny guy, very informative and a great ambassador of the South African youth.

We heard a rumor that the line was going to take an hour and a half so we went across the street to a dirtier club called The Tin Roof. Nobody bought drinks, and when James showed up (the only reason the Tin Roof stays in business is because Tiger Tiger can't fit the whole world in it) he was disappointed that we weren't drinking.
“I don't know about these Americans, but we're getting trashed tonight!”
“Don't let me cramp your style!”
“And we're bringing you down with us!”

We left before he had the chance. Before we left though, we danced and had a moderately fun time, but it really wasn't worth all the trouble. Whatever. I'm in South Africa.

Musta took us back and then charged us more than we expected, his logic being that we drove more than he expected, which I understood because of the way the taxis work. But it still seemed a little expensive.

PART THREE: Day 3 Feb 20

Today me and Isaiah were part of the Habitat for Humanity group. Habitat is an organization that builds houses. I'm not sure how it works worldwide, but at least in South Africa, you apply to have a house built. If you qualify, you help build your own house and then volunteer for 60 others hours.

So there were 24 of us and they split us up into two groups. The projects of the day were finishing the roofs. We got to our site and got right to work.

Our leader was a South African man who had been working with habitat for three years, and was positively hilarious, I got some great video of him singing and dancing and saying his catchphrase. We called him “Numba One!” because he always said it when something went well or he finished something.

While half the group was passing tiles, me and a new friend Jordan started measuring out the roof. I walked up on top, across thing rafter of wood, and spent a lot of time hanging up there, handing nails to the workers.

There isn't too much to describe besides climbing up and down, passing tiles, and doing manual labor, but the best part of it was seeing the kids come and watch us and knowing that because of our work today, somebody gets to live in a house more quickly. In fact, that somebody was there, working on it with us. I learned a lot about construction that day, actually, and learned more about township life.

After we were done for the day (we worked for 6 hours straight) some women of the township made us an excellent meal: rice, carrots, cabbage, chicken, and potatoes, and it was all great. Numba One's catch phrase was “alrice!” instead of “alright!” so when we got rice for our meal he said “alriiiiice with chicken!”

That night I was tired but when out to the synagogue anyway (see blog Wherever You Go).

PART FOUR: Day 5 Feb 22

Just a note: township sounds like it means a small, small place, but the shanties go on and on and on and on. They are huge.

My visit to the Khayelitsha township. They warned us to be careful about taking cameras because the townships are intensely impoverished and it is rude to be taking pictures. I took my camera anyway just in case there were some opportunities.

There were. Our first stop was Vicky's bed and breakfast, “Africa's smallest hotel!” She started the bed and breakfast trend in the townships, inspiring other women to make money and create jobs. She told us that the people of the township know that we aren't there to invade and take advantage of them, but are there to learn and educate ourselves and the world about the situation in South Africa. Rather that shy away from photos, the citizens were asking us to be IN photos!

I met so many cute little kids, showed them some hand tricks and bought some art at a craft store. We got to see two church services, since it was Sunday, and we pretty much walked right through a political rally.

Some SASers gave the kids stickers and pens and pencils and they went wild for them. I hung on the monkey bars and played instruments with a few. The smiles of these children brightened up the day.

We walked up to an observation point and saw so much of the township. It seems like it goes on forever. We saw some intense poverty; people living in shanty shacks made of scrap metal. Apparently, we didn't even go into the most impoverished areas, but I have a feeling that it wouldn't have been appropriate.

At the craft market where I bought some art, the people make their sculptures and other things out of all recycled material, and I bought right from the woman who made the piece out of cardboard and Coke cans. It's a small representation of the township, with a few buildings, a sunset, and the tell-tale power lines diving down from the top of a pole servicing several households.

THE SURPRISE PART FIVE: Summaries

We are leaving South Africa tonight, I'm actually sitting on the waterfront right now getting free internet. I have had an amazing time here, seeing people of all races, socio-economic groups, shapes and sizes. But I did not meet a single unfriendly person, even in the townships where everyone was so welcoming. I am sad to leave South Africa, but I know I have a home here if I ever come back because the Rabbi said so. I do hope to come back one day. And I will.

Knights of the Table

Table Mountain is the backdrop of Cape Town, rising above all of the buildings. It is between two smaller mountains called Lion's Head and Devil's Peak. The mountain is flat on top, like a table, hence its name. You can take a cable car up to the top, where there is cafe and a gift shop. Or you can hike.

We hiked. And got a little bit more than some of us bargained for. (Wow, I used the same hook as I did in the last blog. Sorry).

Me, Taylor, Isaiah, and our new friend Ari got into a taxi, and we knew the driver from a previous night (that blog is coming soon, sorry, South Africa is going to be kind of out of order.) Tim recommended we take the trail that is right next to the cable car, with a sign that says “not for amateurs.” He told us that there were some spots where you had to actually rock climb a little bit, but nothing too difficult.

We arrived at the base of the mountain and already had a breathtaking view of the city. We saw the sign that Tim referred to and didn't really read that it said “Dangerous. Extreme rock climbing route.” Then there were some triangle shapes with exclamation points at certain points of the diagram. We didn't really see that either. We just saw that the trail was called “India Venster.” And thought that was cool.

We began our hike and right away we met four local guys whose climbing backgrounds were much more extensive than ours. They gave us a quick breakdown of what we were to do: follow the yellow footprints. They said to curve under the cable car lines, “scramble”up three ledges, then curve around again by a boulder field, and then curve all the way by cliffs with some steep dropoffs until we reach the top.

Scramble is the word of the day. If not the week.

We broke off from those guys and followed the trail below the cable car lines. After some walking, we reached where there were the three ledges. These were LEDGES. Seriously, like 6 feet high with hardly any places to put our hands. We interpreted that “scrambling”is like a short free-hand climb. I found it quite easy, not met with too difficult of a challenge, but I helped up Isaiah and Ari after I went up.

We made it up the three ledges with Isaiah almost falling off if he hadn't taken off his backpack. There was more climbing up rocky slopes, but not like the ledges. We were constantly looking for the yellow footprints, rejoicing when we found them to let us know we were still on the path.

Up some more slopes, we made it to the boulder field. We saw some people, French, I think. Yay! People! We're going the right way! They were two parent-aged women, a teenaged girl, and a little boy. But they weren't going up. They were coming down. We weren't sure why anyone in there right mind would want to go down the ledges we just climbed.

They said that they were coming down because they couldn't find a way up to the top. This came as a surprise to us. We had found the three ledges and the boulder field that the other guys had told us, and now these people are going back because they couldn't find anything? We traded phone numbers just in case of an emergency, but we trudged on.

I never doubted for a moment that we were going the wrong way. The yellow footprints helped a lot, and after the boulder field there was a sign facing away from where we just came that said “PATH.” I said, “If there was no path leading TO here from the top, there would be no reason to have a sign.”

We kept going.

All the other guys were worried that we were going to get stuck, or have to call a helicopter, or get stranded. I never had a thought like this for a minute, and had no idea why everyone was freaking out. There was a path there. It was clear and easy to see. It felt like Lord of the Rings sometimes! We sang the theme song too.

There was some more scrambling that the hiker guys from the beginning didn't tell us about, and those scrambles were the most difficult, some rocks were around 10 feet. But I was never fearing for my life. If you read Isaiah's eventual blog about this experience, his story will be very, very different. I never worried about falling or getting stranded, I was just careful to put my feet in safe places and not to lose my balance. What was going on in the other guys' heads at this point was “are we going the right way?”“what if we have to go back down, that was impossible to climb up!” What was going through my head was “this is the coolest thing ever!”

But we were around the bottom where the hiker guys told us to be, seeing the cliff with the steep dropoffs.

After the scrambles and some more trudging, we saw some hardcore climbers going up (or down) the completely vertical side of the mountain. A man asked us where we were from, and we told him what we were doing. He told us we were close and that he'd lead us to the top. He had to meet his mother anyway. His name was Keith, and he and his wife (who is currently in the jungle filming a documentary) and young boy had traveled down Africa from the UK and had been in South Africa for a little while.

Keith was a well traveled man, and he even had a Morocco story that Ari related to because he saw the same guy in the same place. Keith took a picture of all of us in front of a sign that said “NOT AND EASY WAY DOWN.” We thanked Keith, but he told us that we really did it already and that he really was just walking up with us as opposed to guiding us. Keith keeps a blog of his travels as well, so we traded blog addresses when we reached the top.

We got hot chocolate and laughed about our 2 ½ hike up the side of a mountain called named after furniture. I bought a really cool beanie at the gift store.

Taylor thanked me, because he was worried about getting stranded or not making it to the top, and that my optimism kept him going. That was nice to hear, and it meant a lot. I really don't know why I wasn't worried about anything. Here we are, climbing a huge mountain in the most difficult trail possible with very little climbing experience, the possibility of death all around, and I'm more worried about when I'm going to buy my South African flag.

Keith told us that in the guidebooks for rock climbers, they say Table Mountain is dangerous and to be really, really careful. This made us feel like pros (even though we didn't do REAL rock climbing) but we got a little more than we expected. Tim said that there were some spots you had to rock climb, and his description threw us off, because we felt like we did more than a little rock climbing. But I would describe it as something similar, “The most difficult trail on table mountain. There were some spots where it was pretty dangerous, having to actually climb up rocks with your bare hands, but altogether not impossible.” Taylor, Ari and Isaiah will all have their own unique descriptions, too.
We took the cable car down.

WARNING: NERD JOKE COMING! SKIP TO NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU WISH TO AVOID IT. It was like at the end of a Myst level where after you solve all the puzzles and have walked around the entire level, you get into some sort of really cool vehicle and take a journey, seeing all the places you just were.

Since our path was mostly underneath where the cables were, we could see what we climbed. It WAS pretty ridiculous what we did, but we were satisfied. The hikers gave us some instructions, the French people confused us, and Keith marched with us to victory. We own that mountain. That mountain in South Africa.

I climbed a mountain in Africa.

Tomorrow I'm going to go to an internet cafe and post some pictures from the last month. We tried to go tonight but there were all closed.