Thunderstorms

A year and a few days ago, there was a thunderstorm just like the one that is happening tonight in my home skies. The sky lit up with violet webs of lightning that danced through the clouds. Big, fat raindrops poured out of the sky and quickly soaked the hot pavement and anyone standing outside.

It was my last night home. The next day, I was getting on a plane that would lead me to New York for the night and then to South Africa the day after; I was about to embark on my most epic adventure to date.

And I was miserable. My dad decided to pick huge fight with me. My mother was sick and going to have major surgery in the morning. We didn't know whether the giant mass in one of her failing kidneys was cancer or not. I still hadn't packed. After a stressful couple of months of taking care of her all by myself, all I wanted was to spend one last night with him, but my dad didn't approve. He was angry. I was hysterical.

I don't know what I would've done if he hadn't offered to throw all of my unpacked stuff in his truck (we had to move it inside our respective cars as the rain kept pouring down) and let me cry and pack and repack at his house. If his mother hadn't quietly given her approval as she saw my puffy red eyes and sopping clothes while I sniffled out apologies and words of gratitude. If I hadn't spent the past few weeks sleeping on his couch so I wouldn't have to go back to my empty house after working for eight hours then seeing my mother in the hospital. If his mother hadn't let me cook dinner with her night after night and talk about simple things like vegetables and flowers and the best way to prepare fish. If he hadn't had been the last thing I saw after I packed all the stupid clothes that I wouldn't need into my giant bags and passed out for a couple hours in the heat of Mid-July. If he hadn't said goodbye when he left for work early that morning and then let me sleep for a couple more hours.

A year ago, I started the most amazing experience of my life. But I'll never forget the crashing thunder and blinding lightning through my tear-blurred vision of the worst night of my life that started it. And I will never forget the love that got me through it.

Why Elephants are my Favorite

The book Elephant Whisperer is the nonfiction story of Lawrence Anthony, a man in South Africa who adopts, rehabilitates, and develops a strong bond with a small herd of elephants that would have been killed otherwise because they were troublesome. After a few years, he and his team noticed a strange phenomenon. On the day that he was due back from a trip, the elephants would travel hours across the reserve to the main lodge; they would be waiting to greet him at the house. One time, he missed his flight home and arrived a day later than planned. Apparently, at the exact moment that he found out he had missed his flight, the herd stopped partway on their way to the house, turned around, and went back the way they came. However, when he arrived the next day, they were there waiting for him. Anthony attributes this to the elephants’ ability to transmit and receive low-frequency rumbles, below human hearing range, that can potentially travel hundreds of miles, even through solid objects. This is just one example of elephants’ amazingly developed communication skills. Biologists still do not completely understand how elephants use these rumblings to communicate, but it is a strong indicator of their greater intelligence.

On the day that Anthony died, the elephants, which by then had split into two separate herds, all arrived at his home. They had not been to the house for over a year, yet they knew to come back. Elephants have been known to mourn the deaths of their fellow kind, and they spent two days near the house, mourning their friend’s passing. 

At the Elephant Sanctuary in Knysna, a teary-eyed keeper told us the story of a very sick man who was dying of cancer who came to see the elephants. Apparently, the younger elephants, sensing something was wrong, would not approach the man, but the matriarch came up to him and appeared to try to comfort him. The man wept the entire time. Later, his wife told the keeper that it had been his dying wish to touch an elephant. A few days later, the man passed. 

It has been proven time again that elephants are capable of a huge emotional range, including empathy, rage, playfulness, depression, tenderness, and even post-traumatic stress disorder. They are fiercely protective of their families and have social rules that guide interaction. Their low-frequency rumblings ensure that no elephant is ever truly alone. 

Nansi Ingwenyama, Sthandwa

Everyone who has seen me talk about my travels knows about the twinkle in my eye as I REFUSE to shut up about how beautiful, different, stunning, amazing, and all those superlatives S.Africa/Zimbabwe is.

I apologize that this post is, oh I dunno, half a year late. But as the anniversary of the beginning of my epic adventure approaches (and I am bedridden with some sort of weird cold), I thought I would share some of the BEAUTIFULEXCITINGAMAZINGDUMB things I did pooping around the southern bit of the continent with my glorious sister:

For more on our adventures, check out her hilarious blog: youvebeenminged.blogspot.com

We backpacked the entire Garden Route then went up to Victoria Falls with my Zim. friend Lesley, spending a magical few weeks full of sibling rivalry, bad eating habits (read:chips), cheeky Australians with Asian twin fetishes (shudder), and gorgeous scenery. I'll give the quick and dirty.

1. Refilwe, Lanseria, South Africa

For the first couple of days, my sister and I hung out at a small little setup outside of JoBurg that a church had set up for families and stayed at the "Baby House," which was an orphanage for the littlest ones. That translated to my sister and I cuddling with adorable little babes, and my sister telling me "You're doing it wrong" about numerous tasks I attempted to help with (I was doing it wrong most of the time).

2. My Sister is a 'Fraidy Cat, Storm's River, South Africa

We flew down to PLZ to start our BazBus journey, and I was excited to show my sister the place (and maybe person) that stolen my heart, hoping that it wouldn't disappoint. This place was also one of the highlights of our adventures because I (re-)discovered that my sister is the BIGGEST WUSS EVER. 

Baboons

We ran into (almost literally) a pack of baboons while hiking through the Tsitsikamma Natl Park. The reason my sister almost stumbled over an adult male baboon chilling in the middle of the trail was because I made the mistake of telling her about Black Mambas, so to her, every one of the many vines/roots on the path was potential death, and her eyes were glued to the forest floor. After being (sorta) chased away from the subsequent pack of baboons by some non-friendly-looking mother baboons, my sister was very reluctant to approach, but they were blocking the path. We grew up in the PNW, so we know how to act around bears, coyotes, and cougars, but baboons? Nope.
After a frantic call to the backpackers, the amused woman assured us that as long as we didn't have food we'd be fine. So I figured as long as we made noise and let them know where we were, they would leave us alone, but my sister was convinced I was going to get us killed.

Obviously, we were fine. and were rewarded with these views:

See, doesnt she look okay now?

Bungee Jumping

As previously mentioned, I jumped off a bridge, and now it was my sister's turn. And boy, was she excited!

And by "excited," I mean "pants-pissing terrified." I went along for moral support, and before her jump, she was uncharacteristically quiet. I tried to be encouraging, telling her how great it was when I did it, how it's totally safe, but when the time came, she was one of those that that had to be essentially forcefully thrown off the bridge. Of course, she immediately loved it after the choice to jump was no longer hers, but the video caught her slight breakdown prior. Just a little. 

3. Plettenberg Bay, South Africa

I met Elephants. Need I say more???

Pure, Unadulterated, Joy.

4. Capetown, South Africa

 We did some of this:

Some of this:

A little Robben Island:

A bit of Cape Point with a tour group:

And a little bit of goodbye, because next we were headed to...

5. Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, Natural Wonder of the World

BAM.

I really wanted to go horseback riding, so we did a safari:

Had just a couple of drinks and good times with the lovely Lesley Ncube:

Just a couple.

 Did a sunset booze cruise, complete with wildlife:

But mostly important, did this:

Is it too late to cry "uncle?"

Class 4/5 rapids all the way down, including one that did this to us:

I'm at the bottom of the pile, just FYI

Janni's Inner Monologue: Don't Panic. At least this is an epic death.

I was pretty damn sure I was going to die, but in the end, I prevailed (one contact short)

It was a damn good way to say goodbye to the most amazing five months of my life, because after this, we flew back to JoBurg, and I prepared to leave for Germany while my sister spent a bit longer with the Rainbow Nation.

Hallo! Enschuldegung! Bitte!

Deutscheland was such a good choice, despite the fact that I started making poor (good?) choices almost the instant I arrived there. I dont have a lot of photos, so I'm gonna stick with a couple of anecdotes/observations

Firsts

Immediately, within hours of arriving in Köln (Colgne), I lost my wallet (again).  It was dark, rainy, cold, and I was in a foreign country, already missing SA. BUT I AM A SEASONED TRAVELER. I CAN HANDLE ANYTHING.

So I only cried a little bit.

BUT things were vastly improved the next day when Mack showed up to cover my sorry ass and I got to experience my first Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas Market) with this girl:

Mulled wine in an adorable mug. Day=Better

Deike was the German contingent amongst the exchange students at Rhodes, and... well... a picture is worth a thousand words right?

This was the first night after we met. Yup. We are on a table.

Needless to say, she was a kindred spirit, and getting to see her in her home environment was a lovely treat. Plus, this:

On a rare sunny day, even!

Old Friends, New Places

While I was there for four weeks, I got to see a couple of familiar faces including the fabulous Maureen in Mannheim:

With mustache flats!

And the adorable Nick in Hamburg (ask about our 3-Aussie Night, we dare you):

I'm introducing him to the delicious phenomenon know as the Döner

As well as spend a ridiculous amount of time with Andrew, Mack, and Steph (our actually German friend), my gracious hosts.

Germany Makes You Fat

I think the photo that best describes my time there is this though:

Mandatory suggestive bratwürst eating photo

My god, the Deutsch know how to do warm, hearty winter food. All of the weight I lost from my "Zimbabwean Heat Diet" (Oh My Gawd it is So Hot, Too Hot to Eat Anything), I gained right back. For Christmas dinner, I ate bacon and cheese (and onions) with Steph's delightful family. I understood about 5% of the dinner conversation, but it was so much fun, and I learned a lot. Speaking of which...

German Stereotypes

I know, I know, Germans are supposed to be notoriously grumpy. 

IT'S TRUE

Jokes, Jokes!

Seriously, some of the Germans I met were the warmest, friendliest, loveliest human beings. However, it is true that the average German resting face in public doesn't invite sunshine and bunnies and cupcakes... or idle conversation. From what I gathered, it's mainly because they tend to just mind their own business when they're out and about. Maybe that's why they are amazingly (ridiculously?) efficient and punctual. 

All In All...

Germany was full of up and downs, but most importantly, I started to reconnect to the Old World in multiple senses. And it definitely was not "Goodbye" or "Auf Wiedersehen" but rather "Bis Später," "See you later."

You're Still the Only One that Feels Like Home

Being home has been rough to say the least. I arrived in Spokane in the midst of a snowstorm and full of excitement to see my bestest Hallie, who had graciously volunteered to pick me up from the airport and let me crash with her for a few days while I adjusted to being home, just to avoid the familial dysfunction a little bit longer (that's how you know it's true love, folks).

I hit the ground running, expecting to swirl myself in a tizzy of productivity, cleaning the house, finding employment, and reconnecting with the person that had been pulling me back from the instant I had left. None of those things turned out as planned, however. The biggest thing that has affected my time in my hometown is the falling out I had with the aforementioned person. He had been my rock for a majority of 2012, giving me support when my mother got sick, comforting me when I was worried about fitting in with a whole new group of people, listening to all my rants, and urging me to come home so he could take care of me. He was the only thing that could make me consider coming back to Spokane and staying... I'm still not sure what happened exactly, but bottom line, we're not in contact anymore, and that, in combination with severe reverse culture shock on so many levels, taking care of my sick mother, a messy house, a sullen cousin... I became very depressed and a little lost, wondering what the hell I was doing home.

The month of February is always bad for me. It happens to be the same month as my birthday and Valentine's Day which is unfortunate, but them's the breaks. I spent a lot of time in a cycle of depression, anger, hope, and bitterness and came out of it more or less in one piece and maybe a little worse for wear. But I learned, or better yet, remembered an important thing: I never want to let my regrets and heartbreaks make me bitter. 

I have witnessed some people later in their lives becoming haunted by their past choices, and they become cynical and bitter thinking of the things they cannot or did not change. I will never let myself get to the point. A lot of my close friends wonder how I can still want this person in my life, I can not resent and blame him, and once again, I've come to the realization that I could never replace the love I have for him with hate. Why would I do that and bring more ugliness into my life? My heart is open, and for the most part, always will be; hearts tend to get beaten up this way, but if that is the price I personally must pay in order to not become jaded, then I pay it willingly. Call me stupid, call me blind, call me hopeless.

So now I've been giving myself time to ponder, to reflect without regret, on everything that has happened this past year. And I am content. My empty wallet, obligation, and the need to finish my education is holding back my wanderlust, and I threw away my completely destroyed travelling boots. But now that things have changed, and there's not really anything to make me stay in Spokane anymore, I'm excited to start planning for the next adventure! I have called so many different places home already, and I wonder where the next place will be. The World Cup is in Rio next year and I happen to know a soccer fanatic that speaks Portuguese now...