If you know me, there is a chance you know that I don't necessarily have the best relationship with flying. Or a fondness. The trouble with this, is that I love flying. I love the end result. I love that I can get on a plane and in a matter of hours, I can be anywhere. With a car, the 'world' out there seems pretty small. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of cool things you can see with a car. But, my preference would be to fly somewhere, then rent a car to take me to see the cool things!
I first joined the loyalty program for American Airlines on Oct 20, 1998. Funny enough, it happens to be our anniversary, only 3 years prior. My job has always required travel. All 4 of the companies I've worked for since college. Just on American, I now have logged 1.6MM miles. This doesn't count my trips on Southwest, Delta or any other airline. And, I still hate, to a very large degree, flying. My father was a pilot. I can't even imagine how many miles he logged. And, nothing ever happened. Take-off is really my dreaded part of flying. My hands get sweaty, I get fidgety in my seat, and more times than not, I think we are going to crash. Engine failure, plane is off balance, birds in the engine....you name it, it's crossed my mind. Once I get at a 'comfortable' level, I'm fine. For the most part. I've at least come to grips with turbulence. It doesn't bother me as much any more. Thank goodness...perhaps in another 1MM miles, I'll figure out that take-off is ok too.
For the love part though, it goes beyond the destination. It's the people. I have somehow had the chance to meet some of the most amazing people on planes. Don't worry, if you sit next to me, I'm not the crazy one that talks your ear off and ignores the body language signs (or headphones) that says, 'I really don't feel like talking to you, lady'. I read that pretty quickly. And, often times, I'm the one giving that sign. But, many time, I connect with people too. I met a man who lives on my street in Miami. He was coming home from a business trip to Iceland, just a few weeks before my first business trip there. He gave me a restaurant recommendation in Iceland. I met a woman flying back next to me from London, that lives in my neighborhood and is a good friend of one of my friends. We just met for drinks the other day. Flying back from NYC with Olivia, I met a woman who is a retired interior decorator in a nearby neighborhood and we exchanged emails. I met an extremely successful business woman who invited me to sit with her at a luncheon. Sitting right next to Madeline Albright. They are friends. I've met two older woman, at different times, that were on their way to the Galapagos Islands because it was on their bucket list. I could go on, but I will spare you. But, I continue to be amazed. I've met some pretty fascinating people and all because we just happened to be sitting next to each other on a plane. It's one of those weird things....if you don't ask, you'll never know who you can meet. I love people and I love hearing their story.
So, for all the agony, ulcers and sweaty palms....I'll take the flying. I read an article the other day talking about the safety of flying and the unlikelihood of anything happening to you. The article said you'd have to fly everyday for 35,000 days to encounter any issues. And, that riding on an escalator was more dangerous than flying. That statement made me laugh enough that I might actually find a way to convince myself that flying is ok.
03 October 2012
31 August 2012
Happy Birthday!!
Well, I've decided to resurrect my blog. I think I took about a six month hiatus. But, I think I actually like this blog, despite my ability to keep consistent with my writing.
But, there was an event last week that made me pull this back out.....Luke's Birthday!! A few years ago, I started writing on Olivia's birthday about all the changes over the prior year. I kind of like pausing to think about the kids' year in terms of milestones and development. I'm not that good at keeping a baby book for the kids (I bought two and they are still sitting in their original packages!), so this kind of serves as that outlet for me.
So.....Luke turned 2!! As with most babies, I'm sure moving from a one year old blob to an active 2 year old is a big one. But, it had been awhile since I had a little one, and I just loved this last year. I never really knew if I wanted a boy. I was somewhat indifferent. I knew what to do with a girl, but a boy...I was clueless. Now, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. This kid melts me. He's my little snuggler. (so is Olivia). He 'pats' me on the back each morning as I walk around carrying him. He gives spontaneous hugs and lays his head down on my shoulder just to give love.
The other thing about this year that has been amazing to watch is the bond developing between Luke and Olivia. He can now interact. He's not just this blob that requires a lot of attention and feeding. They can entertain themselves while I'm getting dinner ready. Luke thinks Olivia hung the moon. The favorite part of my day is watching Luke wake up Olivia for school. He climbs on her bed and quietly goes over to her to give her kisses to wake her up. And hugs. He lays his head on her shoulder. Then, he gives her more kisses. The funniest part is that this melts Olivia.....usually she's awake and lays there pretending to be asleep so he'll continue with the love.
On the flip side, they are also figuring out the sibling bickering. And, it makes me laugh. No, I'm not crazy. But, Olivia was an only child for so long, it's kind of fun to see. I know it will get worse and I know it won't always be funny. But for now, while it's harmless, I'm going to enjoy it.
Luke is all boy! This past year he's fallen in love with anything related to a sword, light saber, truck or bus. Buses are his favorite! Most of you know that.....The only song he wants sung to him at night is 'The Wheels on the Bus'. I'm really, really tired of this song, but I figure it might not last forever. Maybe. He likes me to lay him down in his crib at night, sing the Wheels and rub his belly. He's a boy that already knows what he wants.
His attention span when it comes to arts & crafts (or at least drawing) is about 10 seconds. This is completely different than Olivia. She could sit there for a pretty long time. Luke....well, if Olivia is doing homework, he'll sit next to her and play along. For 10 seconds. Then, it's on to swords or buses.
He also vacuums. A lot. Kyle loves to vacuum too. So, we got Luke a little one and he follows Kyle around the house vacuuming each room together. This, holds his attention for a good 30 minutes.
My little man that makes me laugh every day........
But, there was an event last week that made me pull this back out.....Luke's Birthday!! A few years ago, I started writing on Olivia's birthday about all the changes over the prior year. I kind of like pausing to think about the kids' year in terms of milestones and development. I'm not that good at keeping a baby book for the kids (I bought two and they are still sitting in their original packages!), so this kind of serves as that outlet for me.
So.....Luke turned 2!! As with most babies, I'm sure moving from a one year old blob to an active 2 year old is a big one. But, it had been awhile since I had a little one, and I just loved this last year. I never really knew if I wanted a boy. I was somewhat indifferent. I knew what to do with a girl, but a boy...I was clueless. Now, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. This kid melts me. He's my little snuggler. (so is Olivia). He 'pats' me on the back each morning as I walk around carrying him. He gives spontaneous hugs and lays his head down on my shoulder just to give love.
The other thing about this year that has been amazing to watch is the bond developing between Luke and Olivia. He can now interact. He's not just this blob that requires a lot of attention and feeding. They can entertain themselves while I'm getting dinner ready. Luke thinks Olivia hung the moon. The favorite part of my day is watching Luke wake up Olivia for school. He climbs on her bed and quietly goes over to her to give her kisses to wake her up. And hugs. He lays his head on her shoulder. Then, he gives her more kisses. The funniest part is that this melts Olivia.....usually she's awake and lays there pretending to be asleep so he'll continue with the love.
On the flip side, they are also figuring out the sibling bickering. And, it makes me laugh. No, I'm not crazy. But, Olivia was an only child for so long, it's kind of fun to see. I know it will get worse and I know it won't always be funny. But for now, while it's harmless, I'm going to enjoy it.
Luke is all boy! This past year he's fallen in love with anything related to a sword, light saber, truck or bus. Buses are his favorite! Most of you know that.....The only song he wants sung to him at night is 'The Wheels on the Bus'. I'm really, really tired of this song, but I figure it might not last forever. Maybe. He likes me to lay him down in his crib at night, sing the Wheels and rub his belly. He's a boy that already knows what he wants.
His attention span when it comes to arts & crafts (or at least drawing) is about 10 seconds. This is completely different than Olivia. She could sit there for a pretty long time. Luke....well, if Olivia is doing homework, he'll sit next to her and play along. For 10 seconds. Then, it's on to swords or buses.
He also vacuums. A lot. Kyle loves to vacuum too. So, we got Luke a little one and he follows Kyle around the house vacuuming each room together. This, holds his attention for a good 30 minutes.
My little man that makes me laugh every day........
01 March 2012
The Weight of the World
I feel very fortunate to be able to travel. For the obvious reasons, but more so now, for what stays with me after I get home.
I'm referring to what's out there that we don't always see. At first, I thought it was just that we are Americans and somewhat sheltered. But, the more I think about it, it's just the 'newness' and the awareness that brings things to light.
Poverty. Those less fortuante. Extreme poverty. This is what I'm talking about. Ever since coming back from S. Africa, I cannot get one particular picture out of my head.
It was the last day. We were in Cape Town enjoying a glorious day, having just returned from up atop Table Mountain. Cape Town feels like the Meditteranean. You pretty much forget where you are (Africa). My colleagues and I were having lunch at an outside cafe right along the beach and trying to soak up all the sun and beauty before our flights that evening. A young girl, probably about 13 or 14 walked by carrying her baby. She was begging for money. As she walked by us, we all kind of looked down at the floor or at each other. She walked by again and something struck me, as well as the two guys I was with. For perspective, one of the gentlemen is from Kroatia and lived in shelters thru the Cold War and the other joined the Peace Corps after college and lived in Bolivia for two years. I was in compassionate hands. We all dug into our pockets and gave her what we could find. She was grateful and walked back to the milk crate she had positioned on the sidewalk, shading herself by a parked car. She walked by again a few times as we sat there and was not too successful in getting people's attention. The girl was rather quiet and not pushy at all.
Througout our lunch, various groups of kids came up and did 'shows' as a means to get money from tourists. Acrobatic skits, etc. By the end of lunch, we were broke. Or at least had given away every last Rand we had on us. But, I kept watching this girl. Her baby was probably 9 mos old. It was obvious, despite her young age, she was a mom. Her only interest was in making sure her baby was cared for. She discreetly nursed the baby a few times and did her best to stay shaded from the hot sun. All I could think about was what I was doing with Olivia and Luke when they were her baby's age. I had blocks on the ground, working on developmental areas. I knew about the importance of gross and motor skill development. Clothing, food and shelter were not something I had to think about. Where did this girl sleep? How did her baby sleep? On the ground? Where did she go to the bathroom? Does she even have diapers for her baby? These thoughts just wouldn't stay away.
I kept thinking about what I could do. The only thing I could think of was food. She just looked hungry. Like she had no energy. Not emaciated. Just lifeless. I got up from my chair and went over to her. I sat down next to her and asked her if I could buy her lunch. She immediately said yes. I asked her what she liked. Her reply, 'anything, my lady'. She repeated this anytime I asked her a question. Would she prefer fish, a sandwich, pasta? Same reply. So, I went an ordered a cheeseburger and fries for her. The waiter boxed it up for me and brought it out hot. I then went back over to her and asked her if I could hold her baby while she ate so she would have both hands free. The girl had just finished nursing the baby again and he'd fallen asleep, so she declined. I wanted to be sensitive to making her uncomfortable, so I stayed with her for a few minutes to help her get settled. She ate every last bit of the what was in the styrofoam box. I was elated!
Three weeks later, I cannot stop thinking about this girl. She made an impact on me. I didn't get her name. I wish I could've done more to help her. Give her a hotel room for a night, buy her clothes, etc. All the things you don't think of at the time.
But, more importantly than short term breaks. How do people in her situation get out? What has to happen to allow her a chance to succeed?
I think this could be a very long post, because the subject is so deep. And, I share it not to get praise for buying a girl lunch. Really, it was 10 minutes of one day of her life. Nothing.
But, it got me thinking about the people living right here in America that could be under similar circumstances. It got me thinking about the orphanages or women's shelters in parts of the world I travel to and how we can all do more to help. We just need to be aware.
And, living our day to day life, we don't have that luxury. We get up, we go to work, drive to Target, fix dinner for our family and live our life. We forget there are people out there trying to find shelter from a car and a milk crate because it's a really hot day and you have a baby to protect. We hear stories on the news, but don't really know where to go to help.
So, I don't really know what the answer is. Volunteer more, obviously. But where? Do you try to make sweeping change or just worry about making one person's life better? How do I make it a part of my life on a more regular basis and not just the Christmastime toy drive? How do I ensure my kids grow up knowing they have a duty to help others too?
More to come as I try to figure this out from where and how I can help make improvement in someone's life and share back from the life I'm fortunate enough to live.
I'm referring to what's out there that we don't always see. At first, I thought it was just that we are Americans and somewhat sheltered. But, the more I think about it, it's just the 'newness' and the awareness that brings things to light.
Poverty. Those less fortuante. Extreme poverty. This is what I'm talking about. Ever since coming back from S. Africa, I cannot get one particular picture out of my head.
It was the last day. We were in Cape Town enjoying a glorious day, having just returned from up atop Table Mountain. Cape Town feels like the Meditteranean. You pretty much forget where you are (Africa). My colleagues and I were having lunch at an outside cafe right along the beach and trying to soak up all the sun and beauty before our flights that evening. A young girl, probably about 13 or 14 walked by carrying her baby. She was begging for money. As she walked by us, we all kind of looked down at the floor or at each other. She walked by again and something struck me, as well as the two guys I was with. For perspective, one of the gentlemen is from Kroatia and lived in shelters thru the Cold War and the other joined the Peace Corps after college and lived in Bolivia for two years. I was in compassionate hands. We all dug into our pockets and gave her what we could find. She was grateful and walked back to the milk crate she had positioned on the sidewalk, shading herself by a parked car. She walked by again a few times as we sat there and was not too successful in getting people's attention. The girl was rather quiet and not pushy at all.
Througout our lunch, various groups of kids came up and did 'shows' as a means to get money from tourists. Acrobatic skits, etc. By the end of lunch, we were broke. Or at least had given away every last Rand we had on us. But, I kept watching this girl. Her baby was probably 9 mos old. It was obvious, despite her young age, she was a mom. Her only interest was in making sure her baby was cared for. She discreetly nursed the baby a few times and did her best to stay shaded from the hot sun. All I could think about was what I was doing with Olivia and Luke when they were her baby's age. I had blocks on the ground, working on developmental areas. I knew about the importance of gross and motor skill development. Clothing, food and shelter were not something I had to think about. Where did this girl sleep? How did her baby sleep? On the ground? Where did she go to the bathroom? Does she even have diapers for her baby? These thoughts just wouldn't stay away.
I kept thinking about what I could do. The only thing I could think of was food. She just looked hungry. Like she had no energy. Not emaciated. Just lifeless. I got up from my chair and went over to her. I sat down next to her and asked her if I could buy her lunch. She immediately said yes. I asked her what she liked. Her reply, 'anything, my lady'. She repeated this anytime I asked her a question. Would she prefer fish, a sandwich, pasta? Same reply. So, I went an ordered a cheeseburger and fries for her. The waiter boxed it up for me and brought it out hot. I then went back over to her and asked her if I could hold her baby while she ate so she would have both hands free. The girl had just finished nursing the baby again and he'd fallen asleep, so she declined. I wanted to be sensitive to making her uncomfortable, so I stayed with her for a few minutes to help her get settled. She ate every last bit of the what was in the styrofoam box. I was elated!
Three weeks later, I cannot stop thinking about this girl. She made an impact on me. I didn't get her name. I wish I could've done more to help her. Give her a hotel room for a night, buy her clothes, etc. All the things you don't think of at the time.
But, more importantly than short term breaks. How do people in her situation get out? What has to happen to allow her a chance to succeed?
I think this could be a very long post, because the subject is so deep. And, I share it not to get praise for buying a girl lunch. Really, it was 10 minutes of one day of her life. Nothing.
But, it got me thinking about the people living right here in America that could be under similar circumstances. It got me thinking about the orphanages or women's shelters in parts of the world I travel to and how we can all do more to help. We just need to be aware.
And, living our day to day life, we don't have that luxury. We get up, we go to work, drive to Target, fix dinner for our family and live our life. We forget there are people out there trying to find shelter from a car and a milk crate because it's a really hot day and you have a baby to protect. We hear stories on the news, but don't really know where to go to help.
So, I don't really know what the answer is. Volunteer more, obviously. But where? Do you try to make sweeping change or just worry about making one person's life better? How do I make it a part of my life on a more regular basis and not just the Christmastime toy drive? How do I ensure my kids grow up knowing they have a duty to help others too?
More to come as I try to figure this out from where and how I can help make improvement in someone's life and share back from the life I'm fortunate enough to live.
23 February 2012
Pure Cuteness
Yes, I owe more on the S. Africa trip. Fell off after Day 1. Not so good. Just a really crazy, busy week.
The pictures are almost uploaded and will post soon.
In the meantime, a quick Olivia update. A 'treat' for her is to come spend the day with me at work. So, this President's Day, she joined me at work. The 'treat' is not always reciprical as she can be a bit distracting. A joyful distraction, but it's not always my most productive day. At one point, I had to run a meeting with my team in our conference room and I had to spend a lot of time explaining to Olivia that she was not to come in unless it was a true emergency. She was set up in my office with things to do and it was only a 30 min meeting. Olivia was set and I was off down the hall. About 20 min into the meeting, I had to come get something from my office. This is what greeted me as I walked in.
The pictures are almost uploaded and will post soon.
In the meantime, a quick Olivia update. A 'treat' for her is to come spend the day with me at work. So, this President's Day, she joined me at work. The 'treat' is not always reciprical as she can be a bit distracting. A joyful distraction, but it's not always my most productive day. At one point, I had to run a meeting with my team in our conference room and I had to spend a lot of time explaining to Olivia that she was not to come in unless it was a true emergency. She was set up in my office with things to do and it was only a 30 min meeting. Olivia was set and I was off down the hall. About 20 min into the meeting, I had to come get something from my office. This is what greeted me as I walked in.
And, a little girl crossing her legs dancing around my office. I was so surprised by her ability to actually write this all down, I myself was jumping up and down with excitement. Olivia quickly reminded me that she really needed to go!! So, off we went. I later asked her about the notes and she said she was going to quietly walk into the meeting and hand them to me. Made me smile so big! This is one going into the baby book for sure!! I'm quite certain she won't thank me later. :)
07 February 2012
The First and the Third
Referencing ‘Worlds’ above. So far, in my short trip and brief knowledge of Johannesburg , the start contrast is mind blowing. This is very much a society that has the 1st and 3rd Worlds existing side by side, interconnecting, yet staying very far removed and isolated from one another. South Africa, post-apartheid, is called the ‘Rainbow nation’. I now understand that so much of what you read is shades of the truth.
I’m trying to compartmentalize my thoughts to not belabor my thoughts and observations. But, I have to admit it is difficult.
The Apartheid Museum:
You could honestly spend about 6 hours in the museum. We only had about 3 hours, so touched on what we could and fortunately had a tour guide to help fill in the blanks. It also helped that our tour guide was a 45ish yr old Black man. In S. Africa, it’s ok to capitalize the races. You’re also allowed to say Colored. It is a legal race in this country. And, its far different from the context we know. Here, it means you are of a mixed race. Or Dutch. Or something else. Anything but Black, White and Indian. Those are the 4 races.
Our tour guide – his name was Les. A very kind and gentle man, married with a 12 yr old son. He has been on a plane ride once in his life and it lasted 45 min to a nearby town. He wishes it lasted 12 hours. He hears people complain about long-haul flights and would give anything to be in their place. He’s taking his son to the coast over Easter weekend. He can’t really afford it, but feels his son is at the age where he should see the ocean at least once. The only way they are going is because he got a certificate for a tour of a time share in exchange for 2 nights. Pretty funny if you think about the disconnected marketing plan there. I wish I could be there to see the smile on his face, when he sees the smile on his son’s face. I wish I could’ve given him a ticket to anywhere he wanted to explore. If I were Oprah, I would treat him to the most amazing vacation of a lifetime!
Les’ birth name is a tribal name. I can’t remember what and couldn’t spell it even if I remembered. But, during the apartheid every human being had to carry a passbook. This passbook had to be carried with you 24/7. Police could stop you at any time, for any reason and ask to see it. The passbook declared your race, as if it wasn’t obvious. You could be arrested and sent straight to prison if you did not have your passbook on you. Les’ mom went to the passbook office to obtain them for her family. The clerk declared that she must have proper Christian names for her family and Les’ given name was changed to Andrew. It is quite apparent when hearing Les tell this story, that by this alone, he feels robbed of his dignity and his heritage. He can’t even pronounce Andrew. He speaks 7 languages. 6 of them are tribal languages. Fortunately, he now goes by Les, which is some abbreviated name of his tribal/given language. Although is birth certificate still remains Andrew.
The apartheid was legal, government sanctioned segregation and slave labor. The crazy people in office ‘believed’ that by separating the races, they would be more able to grow and flourish among their own. Only, White’s were given privileges that no others received. S. Africa is 80% Black. Under apartheid, Blacks could not own land. They were forcefully removed from their homes/townships because they were getting too close to the other races. So, in the middle of the night, they were forced out of their homes and send to townships elsewhere in the country. The stipulation; the new location must be close to train tracks because that was how they would travel hours each day to get to work. And back. In crowded conditions not suitable for humans. They did not receive medical care or electricity. They were not given furniture for their schools and they were given Black teachers that were uneducated themselves. In immensely crowded conditions. Les, felt privileged because his family was able to afford a chalk tablet in which he could practice his studies. The other kids had to find scraps of paper or trash to write on. Les has a bad back today because he had to kneel on the floor for his schooling and write on the ground.
80% of 45MM people. South Africans. And this ‘ended’ in 1994. I was a senior in college. What were you doing?
The museum donated a large portion, as you can imagine, to Nelson Mandela. He is the closest thing to God for these people. He was not perfect, but his leadership skills are more than admirable. Unimaginable is probably more like it.
Soweto:
It was the largest single township during the apartheid and housed 4MM Blacks in one very small area. Imagine, putting all the people of Miami or DFW into an area that’s about 5 square miles. And, I think I’m being generous on the area size. Today, over 1.5MM people still live there. Most still don’t have electricity. Their bathrooms are outside and they don’t have running water. And, these are the nice places with brick houses and front doors. Mandela was born here. Tutu (anther noble peace winner) still lives here on a part time basis.
Not too far away are the ‘shanty’ villages which are similar to the Sari Sari’s of India (think Slum Dog Millionaire). Remember, the people were ‘flourishing’ in these conditions.
Pictures of all this will be coming when I get back home.
So, I did not describe any of this in a condensed manner. And, I have not touched on the ‘1st ‘ world part. It’s a bit equally fascinating. I’ll try and give a brief update on that tonight.
I’m on my way to Cape Town as I type and I’m pretty sure the differences between what I’ve already seen will just get bigger.
I’m trying to compartmentalize my thoughts to not belabor my thoughts and observations. But, I have to admit it is difficult.
The Apartheid Museum:
You could honestly spend about 6 hours in the museum. We only had about 3 hours, so touched on what we could and fortunately had a tour guide to help fill in the blanks. It also helped that our tour guide was a 45ish yr old Black man. In S. Africa, it’s ok to capitalize the races. You’re also allowed to say Colored. It is a legal race in this country. And, its far different from the context we know. Here, it means you are of a mixed race. Or Dutch. Or something else. Anything but Black, White and Indian. Those are the 4 races.
Our tour guide – his name was Les. A very kind and gentle man, married with a 12 yr old son. He has been on a plane ride once in his life and it lasted 45 min to a nearby town. He wishes it lasted 12 hours. He hears people complain about long-haul flights and would give anything to be in their place. He’s taking his son to the coast over Easter weekend. He can’t really afford it, but feels his son is at the age where he should see the ocean at least once. The only way they are going is because he got a certificate for a tour of a time share in exchange for 2 nights. Pretty funny if you think about the disconnected marketing plan there. I wish I could be there to see the smile on his face, when he sees the smile on his son’s face. I wish I could’ve given him a ticket to anywhere he wanted to explore. If I were Oprah, I would treat him to the most amazing vacation of a lifetime!
Les’ birth name is a tribal name. I can’t remember what and couldn’t spell it even if I remembered. But, during the apartheid every human being had to carry a passbook. This passbook had to be carried with you 24/7. Police could stop you at any time, for any reason and ask to see it. The passbook declared your race, as if it wasn’t obvious. You could be arrested and sent straight to prison if you did not have your passbook on you. Les’ mom went to the passbook office to obtain them for her family. The clerk declared that she must have proper Christian names for her family and Les’ given name was changed to Andrew. It is quite apparent when hearing Les tell this story, that by this alone, he feels robbed of his dignity and his heritage. He can’t even pronounce Andrew. He speaks 7 languages. 6 of them are tribal languages. Fortunately, he now goes by Les, which is some abbreviated name of his tribal/given language. Although is birth certificate still remains Andrew.
The apartheid was legal, government sanctioned segregation and slave labor. The crazy people in office ‘believed’ that by separating the races, they would be more able to grow and flourish among their own. Only, White’s were given privileges that no others received. S. Africa is 80% Black. Under apartheid, Blacks could not own land. They were forcefully removed from their homes/townships because they were getting too close to the other races. So, in the middle of the night, they were forced out of their homes and send to townships elsewhere in the country. The stipulation; the new location must be close to train tracks because that was how they would travel hours each day to get to work. And back. In crowded conditions not suitable for humans. They did not receive medical care or electricity. They were not given furniture for their schools and they were given Black teachers that were uneducated themselves. In immensely crowded conditions. Les, felt privileged because his family was able to afford a chalk tablet in which he could practice his studies. The other kids had to find scraps of paper or trash to write on. Les has a bad back today because he had to kneel on the floor for his schooling and write on the ground.
80% of 45MM people. South Africans. And this ‘ended’ in 1994. I was a senior in college. What were you doing?
The museum donated a large portion, as you can imagine, to Nelson Mandela. He is the closest thing to God for these people. He was not perfect, but his leadership skills are more than admirable. Unimaginable is probably more like it.
Soweto:
It was the largest single township during the apartheid and housed 4MM Blacks in one very small area. Imagine, putting all the people of Miami or DFW into an area that’s about 5 square miles. And, I think I’m being generous on the area size. Today, over 1.5MM people still live there. Most still don’t have electricity. Their bathrooms are outside and they don’t have running water. And, these are the nice places with brick houses and front doors. Mandela was born here. Tutu (anther noble peace winner) still lives here on a part time basis.
Not too far away are the ‘shanty’ villages which are similar to the Sari Sari’s of India (think Slum Dog Millionaire). Remember, the people were ‘flourishing’ in these conditions.
Pictures of all this will be coming when I get back home.
So, I did not describe any of this in a condensed manner. And, I have not touched on the ‘1st ‘ world part. It’s a bit equally fascinating. I’ll try and give a brief update on that tonight.
I’m on my way to Cape Town as I type and I’m pretty sure the differences between what I’ve already seen will just get bigger.
The 'Shanty' part of Soweto
Some 'homebrew' beer we tried in a local Shabeen
06 February 2012
Cheers from Joburg!!
Well, I made it!! A long, long journey to get here. And, other than almost getting stuck in London due to weather and a fairly bumpy flight over much of Africa....it was uneventful. A rather smooth 2-days of traveling.
I arrived yesterday about 7am here. Got to the hotel, checked in and took a little nap. It was so nice to be back in a bed!!
From there, a colleague and I had a 1/2 day tour planned. I will write more tonight, but all is well here. I'm very glad that our trip started in Johannesburg. I think this is a much more realistic picture of Africa and probably a good part of S. Africa. From what we've heard, Cape Town is very Mediterranean and much like a European town. S. Africa is comprised of 45MM people and 80% are black. I don't think Cape Town shares that ratio.
Yesterday was a bit heart-wrenching. To just get a glimpse of the apartheid and what happened to the people here is unbelievable. And, to think that it ended in 1994 is something tough to get your arms around.
Here's a glimpse at what we toured.
Soweto's population is predominantly black. All eleven of the country's official languages are spoken, and the main linguistic groups (in descending order of size) are Zulu, Sotho, Tswana, Venda, and Tsonga.
More tonight!!
I arrived yesterday about 7am here. Got to the hotel, checked in and took a little nap. It was so nice to be back in a bed!!
From there, a colleague and I had a 1/2 day tour planned. I will write more tonight, but all is well here. I'm very glad that our trip started in Johannesburg. I think this is a much more realistic picture of Africa and probably a good part of S. Africa. From what we've heard, Cape Town is very Mediterranean and much like a European town. S. Africa is comprised of 45MM people and 80% are black. I don't think Cape Town shares that ratio.
Yesterday was a bit heart-wrenching. To just get a glimpse of the apartheid and what happened to the people here is unbelievable. And, to think that it ended in 1994 is something tough to get your arms around.
Here's a glimpse at what we toured.
And, Soweto - from Wikipedia:
As Soweto was counted as part of Johannesburg in South Africa's 2008 census, Soweto's population is 1,3 million [13] recent demographic statistics are not readily It has been estimated that 40% of Johannesburg's residents live in Soweto. However, the 2008 Census put its population at 1,3 million [14] (2010) or about one-third of the city's total population.
Soweto's population is predominantly black. All eleven of the country's official languages are spoken, and the main linguistic groups (in descending order of size) are Zulu, Sotho, Tswana, Venda, and Tsonga.
More tonight!!
04 February 2012
Not a necessity for an update...
But, I was kindly reminded yesterday from a dear friend that I sounded a bit extreme on my last post. Yes, I will make it back just fine. My parents even said they didn't realize how nervous I was about the trip. I think I posted at the wrong time yesterday (or the day before?) as I was winding down in the office to get everything together.
Then, Luke got sick and I was up every hour with him. So, a knock back to reality. Then, Olivia broke out head to toe with the hives about 8 hours before I left. Two sick kids, two trips to the pediatrician's office and I'm definitely back to reality.
All is good. I'm in London right now. Last night's flight was nice and uneventful. A little bumpy over the Atlantic, but surprisingly didn't bother me. Right before take off the pilot came on and was talking about the weather in the UK. Apparently he was in Lithuania the day before and it was -20c. I figured if he made it from there to Miami just fine, we were in good hands.
Now, wrapping up the last few hours of the long layover here. The weather is getting worse here between today and tomorrow, so I'm just keeping my fingers crossed there are no delays.
Shortly after arrival tomorrow, a co-worker and I are taking a 1/2 day tour of Soweto and the Apartheid (discovered it's correctly pronounced 'apart-hate' not 'apart-height') Museum. Soweto, during the Apartheid, was one of the largest inhabitants of Blacks (in S. Africa, there are 4 races, Blacks, Coloreds (mixed race), Whites and Indian). It's a relatively small village and at one point, it housed 4 million Blacks. Should be a very eye-opening and fascinating tour. Will hopefully update tomorrow night.
Then, Luke got sick and I was up every hour with him. So, a knock back to reality. Then, Olivia broke out head to toe with the hives about 8 hours before I left. Two sick kids, two trips to the pediatrician's office and I'm definitely back to reality.
All is good. I'm in London right now. Last night's flight was nice and uneventful. A little bumpy over the Atlantic, but surprisingly didn't bother me. Right before take off the pilot came on and was talking about the weather in the UK. Apparently he was in Lithuania the day before and it was -20c. I figured if he made it from there to Miami just fine, we were in good hands.
Now, wrapping up the last few hours of the long layover here. The weather is getting worse here between today and tomorrow, so I'm just keeping my fingers crossed there are no delays.
Shortly after arrival tomorrow, a co-worker and I are taking a 1/2 day tour of Soweto and the Apartheid (discovered it's correctly pronounced 'apart-hate' not 'apart-height') Museum. Soweto, during the Apartheid, was one of the largest inhabitants of Blacks (in S. Africa, there are 4 races, Blacks, Coloreds (mixed race), Whites and Indian). It's a relatively small village and at one point, it housed 4 million Blacks. Should be a very eye-opening and fascinating tour. Will hopefully update tomorrow night.
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