My New National Park II

Aside from satisfying my need to make a roadtrip (at last) I was also drawn to the idea of going to this new park because it was not officially open to the public. A ceremony has taken place last weekend, on the 16th June, so we had the rare honour of wandering through a national park which yet has to see its first sneaker-bearing-camera-toting-cry-baby-carrying tourist. I had a slight feeling that I was about to travel into a wild and unexplored place when we reached the front gate. There were no signs anywhere to direct people towards this pristine wilderness, not on the highway or on the dirtroad leading up to the gate, except for a small sign that stated "Dangerous Animals". This confused me slightly because at Augrabies Falls we also have dangerous animals - leopards, puff adders, cape cobras, thick-tailed scorpions...I was nearly run-over by an eland bull once - but no sign to state this fact to unsuspecting visitors. This simple and vague statement did add significantly to our excitement: we assumed that due to the lack of explanation, all animals encountered within were to be considered life-threateningly viscious and will not hesitate to assault you and those who travel with you. As the gate rolled shut behind us I rolled up my window.

In fact there are not that many dangerous animals at Mokala National Park, but the sign is there to remind visitors that two of its resident species should not be taken lightly - no pun intended - if encountered. The species are namely the rhino and buffalo, not exactly the anorexic supermodels of the African bush and both have a temper to match their size if they are provoked by silly humans. As we drove the two kilometers to the reception area I was naturally hoping to see one of these behemoths next to the road, but alas we had no such luck. The park itself was stunningly beautiful however and a stark contrast to the semi-arid desert environment we had left in the early morning. It reminded me of classic wildlife documentaries in which all of Africa apparently consisted of endless stretches of grass savannah with the occassional acacia "umbrella" silhouetted in the distance. The tall grass on both sides of the road would provide excellent cover for any stalking predator, if there were any of course, and I wondered where the ancient herds of wildebeest and zebra were grazing on this vast plain. The park does have some of the latter two species but as migrating is not an option there are only a few dozen wildebeest and a handful of zebras. Although the rumour is that some wildebeest have taken to the sky by means of SAA (South African Airlines) in order to reach the Etosha Pan, but because of delays and strikes at O.R. Tambo International the idea was soon abandoned.

Mokala is the Tswana word for Camelthorn, one of the most recognisable trees in the park and in South Africa. It is a large, multi-purpose tree which provides shelter, food and protection to many animals throughout the country. Most visitors will recognize it by its large white thorns, although several other lesser-known trees sport similar protective devices. The name was only recently given to the park after what had to be months and months of corporate meetings, working lunches and an endless line of eager consultants. The previous name of the park was Vaalbos - an Afrikaans word meaning Forest of the Vaal (a prominent river) - but because the entire park was moved to a new location last year a new name probably seemed like just the thing. You see, the old park was located about eighty kilometers from the new park but was forced to close down due to a landclaim. These claims are a slight annoyance to the new South African National Parks because the previous governments (in all their precognisance) sometimes forced communities off their land to make room for a national park - or mining operation, or military training ground, or etc etc...Not exactly the most democratic way in which to conduct a country's nature conservation efforts and now thousands of claims have been made by those same people who now want their land back. It is a controversial issue but one that the national parks cannot ignore if they want to break with the past. Augrabies Falls also has a landclaim to deal with, but only concerning a section of the park, because in 1973 a local community was “uprooted” and placed in Namibia (then South-West Africa) and the Eastern Cape. The reason for this was that the government had earmarked this particular patch of land for the South African Army to do their push-ups and curious locals simply had to go. Currently a large part of the former training grounds has already been handed over to members of the community who returned from their exile, but another piece of land which since 1982 has been managed by South African National Parks (then the National Parks Board) is still under review, so to speak.

But I’m drifting off again.

Mokala was formed by combining two private game reserves which South Africa National Parks bought after it became clear the old national park was going to be no more. Fortunately this meant that all the accomodations from these private (hunting) farms would also be sold which meant instant luxurious facilities. The guest accomodations and the main restaurant/bar are all constructed in the typical African style that so many luxury lodges prefer and I have to admit it looks stunning, both inside and out. I was particularly jealous of the enourmous oakwood bar, complete with comfortable barstools, shiny beertaps and a big-screen television: all things I do occassionally miss back in Augrabies if I may be brutally honest. But the most impressive feature had to be the massive open fireplace which could easily provide shelter for a small family (plus dog), further surrounded by the most comfortable couches I had the pleasure of placing my weary self in for some time.

However all this tempting luxury was not the reason we had come to Mokala of course. We wanted to spend as much time out in the park and early Saturday morning we headed out with Marisa’s friend Mark – who works there – for some day-long gameviewing. Despite still not meeting & greeting the buffalo’s or the rhino’s we got some stunning sights of most if not all of the other residents of this curious bushveld/semi-desert paradise. Blue wildebeest, zebra’s, tsessebe’s, red hartebeest and the majestic sable antelope all passed in front of our eyes as we drove over the red sand. Seeing a wild sable was certainly the highlight for me as it is one of my favourite African mammals – its massive curved horns, large body and ink black coat always brings to mind some kind of mythological creature, not quite belonging to this world.

If you’re still reading by this point I congratulate and thank you, I promise to spin an end to this post shortly. I’ve actually got work to do you know.

So on Sunday we went rhino tracking.

I’ll give you a moment to let that sentence sink in.

Beat that.

Yes, on Sunday me, Marisa and Mark went out with a park vet, David, who happened to be at Mokala that weekend to check on the white and black rhinos. As we had not seen any on our drives we were especially keen, but also because this meant a rare glimpse behind the scenes which few people are allowed to witness. Feeling incredibly fortunate and with some excitement we left early in the morning with David to the area of the park where the rhinos are usually to be found, riding in the back of the Landrover. The air was cool but the sun was already out and with warm fleeces on it was a very comfortable if sometimes bumpy ride to the first “koppie” – a small rocky hill where we would take our first telemetry. The black rhinos had been collared before their release in order for the vets to track them easily and keep an eye on their well-being. These animals are still dangerously endangered (while their “white” cousins are no longer on the critical list) and constant monitoring is a must to ensure their survival. When we stopped at the first hill the three of us quickly made our way to the top. This seemed only a short distance from the bottom of the road but turned out to be a steep climb over thousands of fist-sized rocks – I was utterly exhausted as I reached the summit, thanking God for not allowing me to break my neck. David in the meantime only climbed about half-way up because that was high enough for him to get a signal of the rhinos. He shouted up at us, asking why we went all the way to top because now he had to wait for us to climb all the way down again. The man had a point. After making another deal with God on the way down we drove on to two more vantage points but the black rhinos kept quiet so to speak – there were some weak signals which probably meant they were lying down in a dry riverbed.

While on the look-out from the third hill we visited several rhinos were spotted at last. There appeared to be some black ones in the distance, but closer by were at least two white rhinos asleep in a narrow riverbed. Although their black cousins were the real reason we were out there, it would not hurt to get a closer look at the resting whites as well. Because of the more relaxed attitude white rhinos have, David asked if me and Marisa would like to accompany him on foot to where the behemoths were having their siesta. After my intense encounter with a white rhino bull in the Kruger I was very eager to observe them in a more placid state of mind. What followed were twenty unforgettable minutes where we stood and watched three rhinos from a distance of perhaps 40 meters. The wind was in our favour and they never stirred from their nap. Lucky for us because the pitifully small camelthorn trees in the area would not have survived the onslaught of a disturbed rhino for long.

That afternoon we had to drive back to Augrabies Falls. The road was still long and mindnumbingly endless, but it had been worth every single 1200 kilometers. And having not become completely detached from Western society, we had a some KFC in Upington which if I'm honest (again) tasted like little ground-up slices of heaven...

Much has happened since this trip to Mokala: I have had a visit from a good friend of mine from the UK who is now off doing research in a nature reserve near Pilanesberg (close to Jo'burg). Unfortunately we could not fit in a return trip to Campfire (where we met in 2005), but our livers are certainly not complaining. We again walked the infamous Klipspringer Trail, but since the temperatures have dropped it was a significantly more pleasant experience than in the summer heat. Oh, and last week I visited Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park with two of the other volunteers but that deserves a post all of its own...

My New National Park

As a European I am used to reaching any destination in about two hours or less, except under special circumstances such as a holiday. Driving for several hours through any European country will get you quite a long way for our standards of travel, if not into a new country all together. This type of thinking is sadly lost in Africa. Although I have come to realize that there are in fact many more remote places in South Africa than where I am currently living, it still takes me 45 minutes to reach the nearest supermarket - by Western standards an unbelievably long time as we - and I mean the European "we" - are blessed with some type of 24-hour grocery store or super, mega and hyper-market around ever corner. You barely have to lift your 10-hour-work-day body out of your couch and you will already have reached the shops where, let's face it, you always end up buying things you did not really intend on buying. Out here a trip to the supermarket requires careful planning because due to a lack of personal transportation you need to be well aware of which park vehicle is going into town so you can hitch a ride. That is my situation; the regular staff is only taken into town once a month on the back of a trailer in order to do their (yes, monthly) shopping. Who can imagine only getting groceries - and anything else for that matter - only once a month?

Characteristically I am drifting off again. The point I am trying to make is that going anywhere in Africa will take some time. The previous weekend I decided it would be a good idea to take my recently acquired (rental) car for a spin to the yet-to-be-opened Mokale National Park which is situated near Kimberley - famed for its alluvial diamond deposits and man's insatiable need to dig them up, creating big unsightly holes in the process. Although this park is not open yet for the public my good friend and Klipspringer Trail-companion Marisa knew one of the students doing his practical year at Mokale and she arranged for the both of us to stay at his house in the park. With transportation and accomodation all settled we began our roadtrip early Friday morning as the weak winter sun was failing hopelessly to keep us warm. I would be driving the 600km stretch by myself - with Marisa navigating - but I was actually looking forward to it because I have missed driving a car ever since I arrived in remotest Africa. A car, any car, is truly worth its weight in gold out here due to the seemingly endless roads and generally low incomes which prohibits most people from ever owning one. Taking advantage of having a car, even briefly, is therefore an obligation.

Being on the road for six hours can take you very far in Europe. In South Africa we did not even make it out of the province. Straight roads which disappear in the distance, their end never coming any closer is what drivers face when travelling through the Northern Cape province. Those who shared this road with us seemed as astonished as we were at both the loneliness and beauty of these apparently forgotten paths. Once we encountered a decrepit looking schoolbus on the road ahead of us and as we got closer, being comfortably swamped by black exhaust fumes probably responsible for about 50% of the world's CO2 emissions, we saw that it was packed full of students, most of whom were not even able to sit down due to lack of space. Because at that time the road was taking a slow incline I was unable to pass this smoking relic from the 60's and so we became the object of much amusement from the kids at the back of the bus. At times the smokescreen lifted and we could see their laughing faces. We waved and they waved back enthusiastically. After a while I reached for my camera and Marisa took several pictures of them before I was finally able to pass the bus and return to a world of clean air.

The stretch of road between Upington - our nearest "city" - and Kimberley is by far the most lonely that I have ever driven on. During the four hours that it approximately takes to go from the one city to the other we only passed through two depressing looking villages along the way. The rest of the time we drove past massive cattle farms and forgotten nature reserves, all blending into one because it is almost impossible to tell where one farm ends and the other begins. Marisa and I figured that these villages would be a good opportunity to refill and stock up on some snacks, but as we drove through what was supposedly the centre of town I put my foot down and speeded out of there. People were walking aimlessly along the road, often swaying dangerously from whatever drink or drugs they took, skinny dogs chased a rag which was being swept up by the wind and some fat lady was selling dubiously looking grilled meat which would have scientists guessing which animal(s) it originated from. The entire place made me think that if we happened to break down not only our car would be stripped and sold but that the same would happen to us. In these towns people could vanish and nobody will ever find out what happened to them. My thoughts involutarily wandered to all those Hollywood horror movies where hapless hitchhikers and roadtrippers meet their fates at the end of a meathook in some god-forsaken village in Texas (yes, I was playing the Texas Chainsaw Massacre in my head, couldn't help it).

Fortunately none of that happened and before we knew it the familiar unchanging landscape greeted us once more. Finally we arrived on the outskirts of Kimberley in what can only be described as mild shock: we were faced with an urban landscape to which we had grown completely estranged of. Marisa is from the lively Cape area and I have lived in and visited cities in Europe for as long as I can remember, but after only a few months in the remote Augrabies Falls National Park we already experienced urban culture-shock. Neither of us was keen to explore Kimberley further...it looked daunting and unfamiliar...and after a much needed refill we drove a bit further south towards where the new park is located. One interesting anecdote as we reached Kimberley was that when I had pulled into the petrol station for a refill the attendant told me that they were out of unleaded fuel. Not being used to being confronted with a petrol shortage I stared at the poor chap for a few seconds in disbelief before asking him if he could point me towards another filling station which would have this rare liquid. Eventually the car was full of the black gold once again and our destination was at last in sight.

The Wait Is Almost Over

Hello.

I haven't stopped blogging, just haven't had much time for it lately. I won't come up with any excuses because lets face it, excuses are about as useful as a fart in a windmachine.

In case anybody's wondering (thanks Annie), things are going well and I have lots to write about. This weekend I'm visiting Kimberley, apparently they have some big hole there, and an account of this trip will surely feature as soon as I get the courage to type it.

Don't stop checking in and I'll see you all soon. Figuratively speaking of course...

R in A

All creatures great and small...well, mostly small in fact

My personal view on what qualities one needs to possess to be allowed to work in a national park are perhaps a bit idealistic. I have always naively assumed that anybody who fulfills some type of function, no matter how important or menial, needs to at least care about nature and every beautiful, slimy, scaly and hairy creature it may contain. This type of thinking is of course complete fantasy. Although I had kept that little midget of rationality and reason safely bricked up somewhere in a dank and forgotten dungeon vaguely located in the south-east corner of my brain, it still managed to escape after a recent encounter with housekeeping. Let me explain: the appartment next to mine which until recently was inhabited by a schizofrenic party animal/tourism intern had to be thouroughly cleaned before the next unfortunate student happened to wander into our park. Two lovely ladies from housekeeping came over one evening and got stuck in - literally, as it turned out the place was quite dirty - while I was observing the wax on/wax off magic from the safety of the doorframe. One of the ladies was busy with a feather duster but I noticed she wasn't being particularly focused...instead she just kept sweeping at the same spot on the wall. I quickly ruled out that she was on some type of medication when I saw a little gecko lizard happily being tickled from head to two. I mentioned that she would not be too successful if she kept up her chosen reptilian-removal effort but she would not get an inch closer to the prehistoric menace currenly enjoying a good massage from the duster. I casually strolled to the wall, cupped my hands around the little beastie and it quickly scampered up my shoulder where it took a moment to recover from what had to be its most exciting day in existence yet.

The cleaning lady with the duster looked at me as if I had just tackled a hungry lion using nothing more than some peanuts and a rusty fish-hook. I walked outside to show the other housekeeping rep my little friend, but I need not have bothered. Duster-lady was already in hot pursuit, screaming to her companion not to approach me as I was obviously carrying the devil's own offspring on my shoulder. As I walked outside both of them kept a safe distance, well, they kept their distance in any case. For my piece the resistance I then walked over to my own appartment and dropped the wide-eyed gecko on my wall with the orders to eat bugs to its heart's content. One of the cleaning ladies actually fainted at this act of surpreme horror while the other merely screamed and ran off into the night - we haven't found a trace of her since.


Some parts of the above story may have been slightly exaggerated but my point remains a valid one: appreciating nature around you is not a prerequisite for working in a national park. In fact you don't need give a crap whatsoever, although when applying for a job in the conservation department this is considered a plus. But perhaps I am just too optimistic when I expect the gasstation attendant inside the park to care more for the environment around him than a gasstation attendant outside the park. For many people their job inside the park is just that: a job.

As you may have guessed I am rather more intrigued, even captivated, by the things that live and grow around me. My house is ideally located right on the border with the wilderness and therefore many creatures pass my house on a daily basis obviously looking to get a good rub-down by a feather duster. Some days are particularly busy, especially in the late afternoon which also happens to coincide with the time that I get home from work. On days like that I do not so much feel as if I'm surrounded by the serenity of nature but as if I have been dropped into a Disney movie where no humans exist and all animals wear waistcoats and can speak.


If I just continue with the Disney imagery for a moment I will tell you about all the animals that I spotted one random Tuesday afternoon while sitting in front of my door.


The protagonists or heroes (think Simba, Aladin or the Little Mermaid - so hot...) are without a doubt the klipspringers. On first glance poor excuses for antilopes or heroes, but look closer and you will find the courage burning within (cue Circle-of-Life-esque themesong). Compared to their larger cousins such as impala or springbok, these knee-high acrobats are incredibly muscly, having thick and compact bodies. On the other hand, impala and springbok are so thin it's not a stretch to think that you are able to see through them. Klipspringers are, of course, very proficient when it comes to walking and jumping along cliff-edges. This is not only because of their build but also because of the unique texture of their hooves which is rubbery on the bottom, allowing for a firm grip on almost any surface. Furthermore they are among the few animals which mate for life, never taking a new partner unless death do them part, so you will always encounter two at any time. Clearly these are the good guys. (there are actually three klipspringers which I see regularly: two parents plus their kid)


Unfortunately no leopard sightings around my house, but the baboons will make an adequate replacement. More a nuisance than outright menace, they are nevertheless always on the wrong side of the moral coin. The males will especially frighten any 8-year old Disney enthusiast with their black mane and lion-sized canines. Recently a pair of adult males has been causing some havoc around the restcamp area because they are almost unafraid of humans - a quality which can unfortunately prove fatal for most baboons. Until the reaper comes calling however (or the .22 in any case), they can make a handsome living by stealing and eating anything they can lay their paws on, regardless of any homo sapiens present. This I found out first-hand the other day while I was sitting outside against the wall of my house, looking at a clan of baboons doing cartwheels in the grass. Suddenly I heard the "mosquito door" (not my actual door but an iron mesh in front of it which opens seperately, no idea what it's called) open and before I could even get up, one of the villains had grabbed a fresh loaf of bread right off my kitchen counter. For the second time since I've been here I had to watch my bread run off into the sunset, this time carried on four legs instead of a few thousand (See the Klipspringer Trail story). Pure evil these guys. (baboon pics were taken while sitting on my porch as mentioned earlier...trust me it's an act of willpower to remain seated as one of these guys trudges past)

Now it's nearly time for my customary after-work shower while performing a critically acclaimed rendition of Bon Jovi's Dead Or Alive followed by an ice-cold beer, so I'm going to keep it short from now on.

Comic relief is no doubt provided by the ground-squirrels: intensely hilarious to watch whatever they're doing, eating, sleeping or fighting. Sometimes all at the same time.

The ever-present provider of wisdom would not be a dull old owl or a hooting hornbill, but the century old leopard tortoise which lives somewhere around my place and often comes out for a bit of fresh grass and a friendly chat. Here we both are taking it easy and eating some aloes after a long day at the office.





























You have no idea how frustrating it is to put all these pictures in an article, mostly because they never want to stay in one place...give a tap on the spacebar and the whole kit 'n kaboodle goes haywire. So I'll save the rest of my anthropomorphically challenged friends for another time and another blog. I'm sorry if this abrupt end to what looked like a promising description of Southern African wildlife is a bit of a disappointment, but what would you like me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?

Afrika Mayibuye II (A comment on the previous post)

An interesting comment was made related to my previous post about post-apartheid South Africa: "Seems like a rather one-sided and not very refreshing article... Since you're there wouldn't it be more interesting to relate to your readers personal perspectives and insights rather than things we've mostly already read and heard?I mean is Africa a better place now? Do people live in better conditions? Can you honestly attribute all the current problems to Apartheid? Certainly you could tell us more insightful and intriguing things on this subject..."

Reply:

The point was to give those who are not that fluent on the current situation in South Africa a brief overview of the country's past and how the effects of the white regime are still felt and experienced today. I no doubt will relate personal experiences at some later stage when I feel that I have the ability to do so in a constructive manner, not simply recounting "that time I met a racist" or "my close encounter with the ANC".

Is South Africa a better place without apartheid? Yes. Do people live in better conditions? Many do, but many more still live in townships or informal settlements. It is perhaps easier to illustrate the legacy of apartheid through statistics. Since the first free elections in 1994 the new government faced the following: first (and surpising to the newly elected government) there was no money to be spent on the ambitious development plans Mandela had promised to deliver. While the ANC had expected to inherit the wealth the white government gained from South Africa's mineral deposits, the "treasure chest" was in fact more than empty. The previous government had left a record budget deficit of 8.6 percent of the gross domestic product and its foreign exhange reserves were down to less than theequivalent of three weeks of imports. More worryingly, 92 percent of the governments revenues was spent on the cost of debt service, leaving only 8 percent for actual capital spending...that's not a lot.

Socially, the situation was just as dismal. Out of a population of 40 million, 22 million lacked sanitation (7,5 million in urban centres), 12 million lacked a clean water supply, 23 million had no access to electricity and some 2 million children were without schools. A quarter of the people lived on less than half of the poverty-line income and one-third of the population was illiterate.

Administratively: a whole new structure for local and provincial government had to be implemented because all institutions were dominated by and geared towards whites. Nine new provinces had to be formed from the former "homeland" territories and 800 segregated local authorities had to be transformed into 300 multiracial bodies. The police service required a complete overhaul (it was at the forefront of enforcing apartheid laws) and the army had to be reorganized to incorporate the ANC's guerilla army and former homeland armies. The entire education system which had been segregated for each racial group needed restructuring. And while white education offered very high standards in all levels of schooling, black public education had suffered from decades of deprivation: one-third had no electricity, a quarter had no water, a half had no sanitation, one-third of the teachers were unqualified and many more were under-qualified.

Makes for very dull reading perhaps but by no stretch of the imagination can you expect all these issues to be smoothed out in ten years time. It is impossible to claim that South Africa is either going to win the struggle of the post-apartheid years or lose it, but nothing's ever been accomplished in Africa (or anywhere else) through negative thought so I remain quietly optimistic about the future of this country.

Can I claim that all current problems are related to apartheid? Of course not. But the facts stated above do show us that the country was in already in trouble during the final years of the white regime. In later years no doubt these economic problems would have worsened regardless of government: a white government would have been sinking slowly due to international sanctions and desperate attempts to hide 22 million people; a multiracial government could expect to be struggling for a long time, as it is currently, because 22 million people suddenly all need to be "part of the system". The only difference is that the whites ruled through oppression and racism, not democracy and equality.

I realize that this particular article is not that interesting to you, but I'm targetting a slightly larger audience who perhaps do not know some of the details of South Africa's past and present. Knowing its past is in the end the only way to fully understand the present.

On a side-note, I did not intend this blog to be academically sound but merely relate my own expriences while in South Africa. The whole racial issue, as well as South Africa's current social and economic climate, are however so complicated that I chose to devote one article as an introduction to more personal stories.

The information related above was found on several SA government websites (notably the department of statistics), the autobiography of Nelson Mandela "The Long Road to Freedom" and the excellent recent publication "The State of Africa" by Martin Meredith.

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.