Afrika Mayibuye

"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."
- Madiba -

There are two types of people in South Africa: those who are negative about the future of the country and those who are optimistic. This is a complicated country to say the least and this basic seperation is the only description that can be made of its people in one sentence, all others will require many more paragraphs.

Why people feel either way is because of two reasons: apartheid and the end of apartheid. This racist and degenerate form of politics still resounds in South Africa today because it was so very succesful in what it aimed to achieve. The seperation and race-laws which were adapoted by the white supremacists had negative consequences on both white and black although it is obvious that the black people (or Africans) suffered the greatest humiliations and pain. The laws were of course targetted at them as well as the Indian and coloured population. The negative consequence for the white people only became apparent after the formal end of apartheid in 1994. Many whites who had grown up in the years after the Second World War had not known any political system besides apartheid and were therefore severely disadvantaged to deal with the new democracy and "freedom for all". The whites had of course also been seperated during these years and the sudden interaction with black people was a new experience to which some reacted with disgust, uncertainty or joy. Many Africans had also been "succesfully" brainwashed into believing that they would forever be servants of their white countrymen while at the same time the general white population knew no other way of life then to have black people work for them. These two opposites collided when South Africa was freed and their impact can still be felt today.

Negative: The End of Apartheid

I have come across many white people who are negative about the future of South Africa and their place in it. This is partly because they have lost the most, if I can put it like that, since the new democracy was installed. The fact is of course that the Nasionale Partij had given whites those rights and benefits which should have been enjoyed by all. This National Party was ultimately responsible for introducing the term "apartheid", although some of its attributes had already been in place before their election to power in 1948. Their rise to power came as a shock to blacks and whites alike: the English-speaking United Party had always been the dominant political group and they had made South Africa join the Allies in the fight against nazi Germany during WWII. Its popularity was enormous, surely after defeating the nazis they would be able to handle the racist National Party as well? Unfortunately this proved not to be the case. The freedom and the few rights that non-whites enjoyed during United Party's rule were taken away because of the feared swart gevaar or "black threat". The intentions of the Afrikaner (descendants of the original European explorers and farmers) government could be summed up in one word: baasskap or rulership. As has been so often the case in our world's history, religion jumped in to make things even worse. The Dutch Reformed Church openly supported the Afrikaner politics and gave religious credibility to their intentions by suggesting that the Afrikaners were God's chosen people. Furthermore they compared the political victory to the Israelites journey to the promised land. On a personal note I would just like to say that there are some dangerously stupid people on this planet. Nearly fifty years of oppression followed during which time well-known political activists such as Nelson Mandela, Steve Biko, Oliver Tambo and many others rose to the challenge. Anyway, the point is that after the end of apartheid the white population lost all those many privileges which they had grown used to having. Going from God's chosen people to Joe Average is a big step and most whites were not ready for it. The general white population was of course also divided into those who strongly supported the apartheid regime, those who were indifferent to it and those who opposed it. Those who were indifferent and simply led their lives trying to avoid politics were arguably the biggest group. I will tentatively describe these people as victims of apartheid as well due to the fact that they were kept ignorant by the government, although their own indifference to the political situation could be argued as a personal flaw as well.

What needs to be understood by the entire white population is that they are only human, not superior to anybody else (blatantly copied from Steve Biko). For many this is a lesson which is proving difficult to learn. Many white people who I've met and gotten to know have expressed their discontent with the current economic and political situation in South Africa. They know better now than to blame it on the Africans, but they seem to feel that the change from apartheid to democracy should have gone differently. To be honest I could not have imagined a better way to end the old regime and sound in the new than through use of the Truth & Reconciliation Committee. I cannot recall a past revolution which brought about a complete political change without resorting to violence and civil war. But the fact remains that many whites are disenchanted with their country and their own situation. Many of them have asked me why I came to South Africa in the first place simply because they cannot imagine anybody coming to their country voluntarily. What also needs to be understood is that most of the problems which are facing the new South Africa: high unemployment, poverty, violent crime, etc...would not have been issues if apartheid in all its "wisdom and glory" had not existed to begin with. Another hard-to-learn lesson for many because although they may not have actively participated in an unjust system their silence during those years speaks louder than words. The end of apartheid brought millions of previously excluded people back into the social, political and economic scenes of South Africa. Was there anybody who doubted that this would be a bumpy ride?

Positive: The End of Apartheid

On this subject I can be brief. The end of apartheid has opened South Africa up to the world and many whites, many of them students, have embraced their country's liberation from oppression with great enthusiasm. They refuse to see colour and are concerned about their future, their jobs and their country, the same as any other young person in any other free country. If black kids choose to hang out with other black kids or white kids with blacks, is that a problem? No, it would be their own free choice, which after fifty years they are finally able to make. Despite it's many internal problems South Africa is growing socially as well as economically; unemployment is still high at 25% but is steadily declining; the GDP has been rising every year since 1998; and the country is hosting the 2010 Football World Cup, a major test for South Africa if ever there was one.

South Africa is balancing itself out after decades of inequality, fascism and, let's just say it, an evil regime. That there are growing pains should hardly surprise anybody and it will take several more generations before black and white truly live on equal grounds. But the first and most difficult steps in what has the potential and spirit to become one of the greatest African nations have already been made.

(plus, any country which publishes its own FHM is bound to do well right? :) )

Afrika Mayibuye means, loosely translated: Africa shall rise again.

Madiba is Nelson Mandela's clan-name and it is considered a sign of respect if one is addressed or referred to by it.

Klipspringer Day 3: Exploration and walking bread

An often experienced feeling which usually indicates a succesful holiday is the sense that you have "been here for years instead of weeks". This means that you feel completely comfortable at your chosen holiday destination, ants and loud kids not withstanding, and have hardly any incentive of going back home because you're already there. That was how we felt after getting some critical rest at the second overnight hut...although saying we literally passed out for the entire afternoon is more accurate. In a last ditch effort upon our arrival at the hut we managed to get some more food into us before the whole passing-out-cold-phase really set in and our limbs went on strike.

One should never get too comfortable while out in the African wilderness regardless of any hardships you might have gone through. Feeling as if we had rightfully deserved a little peace and quiet, accompanied by the thought that Africa (and those little pricks of Murphy's Branch) had deemed us worthy of a time-out from any irritations, accidents or dangerous animal encounters, we quickly slipped into a much-needed slumber. Lo-and-behold, but when we forced our now reluctant legs to get up we discovered that the ants had plundered our last loaf of bread - in fact there were so many of the little bastards that it was difficult to see the bread hiding underneath. The high spirits that we found ourselves in after our hardships were momentarilly dashed as we watched our bread walk off into the sunset.

In the end, dinner consisted of some instant soup and various canned goods...of course eaten directly from the can - forget about "doing the dishes" out here, there are not even showers. We climbed on top of a "koppie" (big piles of rock which are common to the area) and although our food was decidedly simple no Michelin-star restaurant would ever match the stunning view we enjoyed while eating quietly. The sudden appearence of several giraffe, who were also having their dinner, made it all the more memorable. We retired to our hut after the sun had set, but instead of boiling away inside as we had done the previous night, we decided to take our chances (and sleepingbags) outside and sleep on the large stone bench next to the fire. As we were on an elevated position we were not so worried about scorpions or snakes crawling in with us, but more concerned about a potential leopard encounter. While an exceedingly rare sight at the best of times, if one of the big cats would come upon us in the dark and our fire had died down we could have a problem.

For most of the following hours I stayed half awake in order to keep the fire going next to us. This would of course mean that I would not get much sleep, but if I were to let it go out I knew I'd have to move inside or stay up anyway. The pay-off was worth it however, as the night air was refreshingly cool after the scorching day-time temperatures and the blanket of stars, Milkyway included, was hypnotising as ever. Unfortunately two things made us move inside eventually: the first was me falling asleep and therefore the fire was no longer managed, and two our supply of wood had nearly run out. I woke up with a start around 1am, noticed that the fire had been reduced to mere charcoal and that we needed to conserve at least some wood to warm up our breakfast. I woke up my peacefully snoring companion, informed her of the situation and we quickly moved inside, painful limbs not withstanding.

In the morning we discovered that we had shared the sleeping quarters with a very curious looking arachnid, a so-called "flattie" or wall spider. It is as flat as a pancake but has very long legs and a very hairy body which make it look intimidating but it is in fact completely harmless.

We begun the final day very much motivated by the prospect of a shower, a good meal and the legendary milkshakes of our park restaurant. We felt as if we had been wandering through this arid wilderness for weeks and my imagination conjured up the image of an eager and worried crowd awaiting our safe arrival back into civilization - but I have probably read Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Lost World" one too many times. Although the length of this final leg of the trail is as long as the previous days, twelve kilometers, we completed it in a record time of just under three hours (where normally it would take 6). Although nobody had apparently organized a welcome-back party I nevertheless felt like nothing could touch me...probably what celebrities feel like all the time. As I walked the familiar road from the reception area towards my house I could not help but look down upon the tourists who I passed, as if I had seen and done things that were far beyond the scope of their insignificant lives.

I'm a bit of a romantic however. Basically all we did was go for a walk in the wilderness.

My Klipspringer: Day II

Day 2: "Sir, what about the fucking ants?"

(A brief explanation of the title might be necesarry...it's a quote from a wonderful book I read while in the Kruger Park, written by the former chief ranger of said park, Bill Bryden. This particular sentence was quoted during a briefing of park rangers and SA Army soldiers stationed inside Kruger for counter-poaching patrols. Groups of ranger and soldiers would be out in the bush for weeks at a time, "roughing it" in the remotest parts of the Kruger with only a minimum of supplies...of course they would be sleeping on the ground. Now these bush veterans are used to some seriously difficult situations, but the only question that was asked at the end of the briefing by a young soldier was: "Sir, what about the fucking ants?" Why? Because ants surpase any other creature, big or small, in sheer annoyance factor (yes, even mosquitos) when you live close or inside the bush. They can get everywhere, inside sleeping bags, vacuum packed food, your hair - and more private places...plus they sting. Hard. And when these guys consider them a problem, rest assured that it is a serious problem...)


If you work in a national park one of the consequences you will have to bear is that fact that it will not always be what "you hoped for". As a visitor you are only faced with the beauty and excitement of exploring a true wilderness - as an employee, behind the scenes, you get to experience the other side of things as well. A difficult lesson to learn, especially if you have a romantic picture of life in Africa in your mind (...guilty...), but a useful lesson as well once it is learned. But no matter what happens, at the end of the day I go home to my house on the edge of the wilderness, overlooking what has to be one of the most stunning views you could wish for and, call me sentimental, it fucking calms me down like nothing else.

Difficulties arise when, at the end of a hard day, you do not come home to a stunning view, cold shower (there is no greater gift out here, trust me) and a colder drink. Adding to that is the fact that this has been the hardest and most trying day you have spent out here so far and it becomes very difficult to keep your spirits up. That would be a good description of what the second day of the Trail was like for us: exhaustion, pain...suffering...and with little relief to look forward to at the end.

We set out in the morning after a better-than-expected breakfast of oatmeal and numerous cups of tea and coffee. Obviously my pack was a bit lighter because we had eaten some of the supplies that had been weighing me down yeaterday which enabled me to get rid of that annoying little bag on my chest. Also the morning temperatures are very bearablem, so we felt ready to face whatever Africa could throw at us and not even blink an eye.
Africa knocked us out in the first round.

If you go back up a bit to the picture of the mountain hut you will notice a little rocky hill behind it. It's actually a bit steep, littered with loose rocks which make breaking your ankle a possibility every time you put your foot down. The trail started with a climb of that same hill followed by an even more precarious descent over large boulders...actually there was no trail to speak of, just arrows that pointed downwards and said "Figure It Out". Navigating a steep decline (with several short jumps to boot) across huge rocks is not easy - with a heavy backpack it actually becomes hazardous. We managed it without breaking anything or screaming (much) and we were still very optimistic about the day ahead: the low temperatures and the thrill of the climb were probably responsible for that. We now found ourselves in a valley surrounded by walls of red rock and there was really only one way we could go: forward.

The next part of the day always looked a bit "dodge" to me - in the brochure it describes it as an 8km walk along the Orange River but to avoid boulder bashing (so confused as to what we've been doing so far...) it is recommended to walk slightly "above the river". Alright it is not meant to be taken literally, we can't all walk on water; what it means is that it is easier to walk across the sides of the mountains bordering the river. I was wondering if it wouldn't be easier to try our luck with the boulders anyway because at least you can't fall to your death, but I quickly realized why the brochure advises what it advises: all the boulders were rounded, oval-shaped and smooth (due to the water which sometimes flows over them) and varying in size between tiny-slip-on-your-ass-and-then-break-your-ass-pebble and huge-fall-off-and-you-will-break-your-neck-giant-rock. In other words impossible.

Walking along the mountainside was hardly any better, but at least there was the occasional sign and what could be conceived - with a healthy supply of imagination - as a trail. The going was extremely slow however, making those eight kilometers feel like 800 instead. Meanwhile the temperature was rising of course and being surrounded by rocks this meant we were going to be slowly grilled. During summer days the average temperature of the rocks is about ten degrees higher than anywhere else so with averages around 36-40 this meant we were in for a hot lunch. And if it wasn't for the shade offered by some of the bigger boulders we would have been something's lunch.


It was not all bad however as the scenery kept surprising me with one beautiful view after another and I knew that the lack of trail had at least one positive meaning: this was such a wilderness that not even a small walking trail could be maintained. It was simply unreachable except on foot...even a helicopter would have trouble flying through the narrow gorge. Wildlife highlights of the day included a new troup of baboons which had taken residence in the many cracks and caves of the mountain side and were closely observing us when they weren't throwing insults to the group on the other side of the river. Although it could have been an echo and the baboons just thought there was another group on the opposite bank...they are monkeys after all - sorry, apes...or whatever. Further along the river we found large cat tracks in the sand which were either from a female leopard or a male caracal. But as we are both big leopard enthusiasts we decided (unanimously) that it was a leopard. And to anybody who's paying attention to the tracks, they're actually upside down so stand on your head.

The final leg of The Agony Eight (as I brilliantly nicknamed this stretch of the trail) was a desperate struggle. We knew that at the end of this part we could swim in the river and recover some of our dignity which we had lost somewhere after the 10,000th boulder. We were getting nearer to the bathing spot but suddenly Murphy's African Branch stepped in again. The "path" ahead of us was no more...in its stead stood a forest of tall, thick reeds. The painful realization hit us that we had probably chosen the wrong side at an earlier fork and were now confronted with the choice of going back (aaaaarrrggghhhh!!!!) or, yes, making a path through the reeds. So onwards we went, my brave friend ahead of me, acting as a sort of human machette. If you have ever walked through a tall corn field you know what this feels like, if you haven't than it is hard to describe: you are boxed in on all sides by resilient stems, it is impossible to see what lies ahead because the reeds are at least three meters tall and so tightly packed you can't even see where it all ends. Adding to this were the sharp leaves of the reeds which kindly sliced open any exposed skin - but hey, chicks dig scars right? ...

The going was tough but having come so far and being so close to the end - well, the half-way point anyway - supplied us with the strength to push through. Right until the edge of the river. We were still surrounded by reeds and had somehow (navigating is impossible, as mentioned) walked towards the river - we were now between the reeds and a wet place. Although tempted to jump into the cool water it would get us no further to our goal so we just turned around and now it was my turn to play lawnmower - the path we had "cut" earlier was gone of course, those reeds being very flexible. Our minds had left us at this point and had gone for daiquiries in another universe: we were walking like zombies, cutting a straight path whenever possible, disregarding any bruises, bumps or tumbles suffered along the way...but instead of braaaaaainnnzzzz, we were in need of water and shade.


Seeing the dry riverbed which looked like a beatiful white sandy beach would have made me cry if I wasn't laughing so hard - partly because I was so overjoyed, partly because I was slightly delirious. The dry riverbed ends at the Orange river itself and this was where we could finally drop our burdens (our bags + clothes) and jump in. It was everything I had hoped for and more...the water was cool, almost cold even I was happy to feel, and I could stay here until I got tired of being wet. Our bags were in the shade of a large shepherd's tree and it was underneath the same tree we finally had some lunch in the form of peanutbutter on bread - critical food after such an experience. The peanutbutter had become peanutmilk and the bread was, well, "complicated" but it tasted fantastic - almost rivalling those raisins we had during our survival day at Campfire in 2005. The picture is of the dry riverbed but further along from the water.
The final four kilometers were done in silence but with renewed determination. We had both walked this part before after doing the "3-In-1" adventure trail, which includes canoeing, hiking and mountainbiking, and I knew the overnight hut was not far away. We had completed Day Two, and to acknowledge this achievement Africa put a huge eland bull (remember, 800kg?) on our path which suddenly emerged from a bush about fifty meters ahead of us. It took a second to stare at these intruders and then made a run for it. Perhaps it was because of the intense mental and physical pressures we had faced today but we really did feel as if we had been given a nod of approval with this (second) eland sighting. Since that moment we have for ourselves re-named it the Eland Trail...I'll close off this day with some pictures we took at the overnight hut.