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31

SOUTH AFRICA

M

y friend Bryan’s family emigrated from Johannesburg,

South Africa, to Houston in the early 80s, at the height

of the apartheid struggle. His parents had spent decades

opposing South Africa’s unjust and discriminatory laws. It would be

a long time before change, before Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was

elected president in 1994.

Bryan hadn’t been back to South Africa in nearly 20 years — his

parents, in nearly 30. But his daughter Leah (my fairy godchild)

had a request: Could she have her bat mitzvah not in her hometown

of Austin, Texas, but in her dad’s? Leah’s sister, Anna (another fairy

godchild), had set a precedent for a trip instead of a party two years

earlier with her bat mitzvah in Israel. So Bryan and his wife, Stacy,

who is one of my besties from high school, agreed. Aunts, uncles,

grandparents Bubbie and Zadie and close to two-dozen friends

from around the world were invited.

Joburg

The first thing I noticed when we landed at Oliver Tambo

Airport, besides all of the armed guards, was the cacophony of

voices. English is the “official” official language of South Africa

(the accent is Australian meets British), but there are 10 other

official languages: Afrikaans, Zulu, Xhosa, Tswana, Northern

Sotho, Swati, Venda, Neebele, and Tsonga. And Johannesburg, or

Joburg as everyone calls it, is a very international city. Yet despite

all of the different languages, there seemed to be no obstacles to

communication — everyone from the guards to the gate agents

to the baggage handlers to the passengers appeared to understand

each other. It was the same case on safari, where the game rangers

and trackers spoke different languages, and in restaurants and stores

all over South Africa.

Most of our crew arrived in Joburg on July 17

th

, including Garth

and Sheelagh from England and Jules and Lisa from Australia.

Erika Goldring, who shoots for our Rouses magazine and Rolling

Stone had flown in earlier to photograph the Cape Town Nu World

Festival on Mandela Day weekend, and was waiting for us.

We spent a few days eating and drinking

before safari. The restaurant scene in Joburg

is very international with lots of meat, and

fresh prawns (think giant shrimp), calamari,

and kingclip caught right off the South

African coast.

The Big Five

We boarded a plane for Skukuza, then made

our way to Sabi Sands Reserve within the

Greater Kruger National Park conservancy.

Game rangers at Sabi Sands are aided by

trackers from Mabarhule and other local

villages. The rule is one tracker, one ranger,

one shotgun, just in case, per open-aired

vehicle.

On our first game drive through the

Bushveld (the Bush) we spotted lions,

leopards, cape buffalo, white rhinos and

a bachelor herd of elephants; in hunting

terms, these are the big five, so this was a big first day. There are

no words to describe the experience of seeing and hearing a bull

elephant up close and personal — it’s life changing. Elephants

are the great communicators — they use stomach rumbles to

communicate over long distances. They pay homage to their elders.

They mourn their dead. They are amazing.

We took two drives a day. Summer is winter in South Africa, and

the morning drives are freezing, but by the afternoon we were in

t-shirts.We

saw cheetahs, wildebeests, giraffes, and a dazzle of zebras

(pronounced ZEB-ruh, not ZEE-bruh). Hippos and crocodiles

were at the waterhole. Antelopes were everywhere — springboks,

nyala, kudu and impala, which are nicknamed McDonald’s because

of the distinctive M on their hindquarters and their propensity to

get eaten.

Can I get fries with that?

Termite mounds — it turns out termites actually have a purpose —

provided the perfect vantage point for the big cats to stalk their

prey, and for Erika to get photos. We watched a cheetah watch a

couple of warthogs. We saw a leopard in a tree eating his kill while

hyenas scavenged below for scraps (these were no Shenzi, Banzai

and Ed from the

Lion King

). Our bird nerds were happy about the

eagles, hawks, owls and starlings. I wasn’t nearly as happy about

the baboons and monkeys who made off with my potato chips and

cookies after raiding my mini-bar.