Advertisement
Published: December 6th 2010
Edit Blog Post
View from the freeway
Love the red clay and the greenery Rough Landing It was a Tuesday early evening when Debbie and I rushed for Heathrow to make our flight to Johannesburg ("Joburg" as they say). With all the stories we've heard about Joburg, we were pretty antsy about our arrival.
Our contact at Save - South Africa office had told us that we would have a driver to pick us up from the airport and we were told that he would be holding a sign with the Save the Children logo on it, but unfortunately we didn't have enough time to get his contact information. We were just running on luck.
Touch down.
Customs was a breeze -- we had our itineraries and visa letters printed out, but the agent barely glanced at our passports before stamping them and shooing us through. The wait for our bags was tense - minutes passed by and I kept thinking, "Where were my bags? Would they even come?" I could tell Debbie was tense too.
[Warning #2: The Housing projects
New housing projects robbery rate was high - even the airport was not a safe zone.] Finally, they showed up and I sighed with relief. We quickly grabbed them and headed towards the exit. As we passed through the exit doors, we scanned the sparse crowd looking for a sign with the red logo.
No sign.
Ok, well - maybe he's late.
So we wait in the center as several people with signs pass us by, looking us up and down. I then realized we were the only Asians there - sticking out like sore thumbs. We wait for 15 more minutes, doing a walkthrough of the drivers with signs. No luck. With one phone between us and one without an appropriate SIM, it was then that we decide that I hold down the fort with our bags while Debbie looks for a mobile store. I wait and wait, still keeping my eyes out for a sign or a familiar face. Neither came. Finally, Debbie comes back with a working phone and we call our S. Africa contact. Ring, ring, ring… voicemail. Great.
By this time, several airport staff had started to ask us if we were ok. Of
course, we say yes, but I could tell our faces told the truth. Finally, after an hour, we called our UK contact to try and reach the South Africa team. Turns out, our driver, Thebe, was never confirmed - only contacted. Luckily for us, he was close by and available. Soon we were on the road to our hotel, the Protea Hatfield. It's an about an hour drive from Joburg to Pretoria and for someone who was expecting to see townships and urban sprawl everywhere, I was surprised at how green and beautiful the landscape was. The terrain is amazing flat, allowing you to see miles and miles on end.
As we neared our hotel, we heard from Meri, our South Africa contact, who was extremely apologetic about the logistical glitch due to her busy schedule and offered to meet with us over dinner that night - an extremely kind and accommodating gesture.
The area outside our hotel was not one I was exactly expecting. It wasn't a nice area, but it wasn't decrepit like I had expected. Our side of town, Hatfield, was an old district and looked it. Our hotel stood right across from a small
strip mall and down the street from several American food chains (Subway, McDonald's, KFC, etc). It reminded me of the States - a bit of a cross between a San Jose suburb and SF's Mission district.
A Restaurant Called "Boston" As dusk came, we soon found ourselves in Meri's little Yaris, driving down Broadway, through Menlo Park, to a restaurant called Boston. Haha - how American. Meri, an Armenian citizen, is a wealth of knowledge in the development sector and only moved to South Africa 2 years ago with her husband. He is a diplomat for the UN and is assigned rotations to different countries every few years, which is the reason they're in South Africa. In fact, Meri will be moving again soon once her husband finds out which geography he will be rotating to. Right off the bat, I could tell that she was a strong woman - not afraid to be out in the dark alone and not afraid to speak her mind. In fact, she told us that she only started driving less than a month ago! Before she got her car, she walked from Menlo Park to the office - a 40 minute walk!
Which leads to me to the next warning I've heard:
She mentioned the area was a safe one - full of diplomats and retirees. But did echo #3 in that she usually walked home when it was still light out. And even though the neighborhood is largely safe, all homes here have safety precautions, either 1) electric fences, 2) laser beams, or 3) night patrolmen. Her house in Menlo Park has all three, plus 2 Labradors - pets, but makes for a 4th defense. TV commercials are also ubiquitous -
Intruderprufe is South Africa's top protection brand!! As we sat in the restaurant, I noticed the racial divide. The owner, white male, came to greet us, but all the other employees were black. We were the only table with Asians and the only mixed table. In fact, the table behind us sat a group of four - dressed in clothes you would find in the 20s or 30s, speaking what could only be Afrikaans. Meri then mentioned many of the residents
View from hotel
View of the outdoor seating areas of restaurants near our hotel in the area are Afrikaners and that if we heard anyone speak English, it was usually because someone at the table was foreign.
This was the first appearance of the racial divide, but definitely not the last.
As for the food, I was pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. I was expecting a lot of stewed meats, but the menu had a good mix of meat, fish, and veggies. But I did see "Springbok steak" as a listed entree. Yeesh. I didn't feel adventurous enough to try that. Instead, I got fish cakes and a salad - which turned out to be more than enough food. One major rave I had was the wine - Nederburg Pinotage. Modestly priced, but super yummy and very South African. Hopefully there will be more to come!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.082s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 6; qc: 44; dbt: 0.0415s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb