Ahh the Jetlag

At least that's what I'm blaming my inability to sleep on. It's 4am and I'm wide awake. But we were in bed by 10pm so I've had enough to get me through the day.

We arrived at Isabel's house which is a little compound in a small farming community in the middle of Not Much Else. The entire place is surrounded by a 6 foot wall and each entrance with chains and padlocks. I haven't seen one trace of anything green since arriving in the country. It is what I think of when imagining Africa: the soil is dry and floats easily at the slighest gust, trees that seem almost prehistoric grow undeterred by the dust, and tufts of brown grasses stick up defiantely and at random.

We are shown to our rooms and stow our luggage. Of course after being in a "dry" country (United Arab Emirates) for four days, Forbes and Johann are keen on getting their drink on. Two bottles of champagne are already chilling and corks are popped by the time we reconviene to the dining room.

The main house is unique to me but from what little knowledge I have about South African farm compounds, fairly typical. A long hallway connects different sections of the house. There must be a total of five separate areas to the house, all styled differently and all constructed with a sort of paint-covered plaster wall. The whole area is guarded by a very large and intimidating Bull Mastif named Chloe. She warmed to tepid after a few minutes.

Isabel tells us she is in the process of upgrading the house and proudly shows us the new tile in the kitchen and hallway. She is doing the work herself along with occasional help from a hired worker. It is very charming already and will look quite nice when it's done. Come to find out she lived on the family farm until a few years ago. She left after Johann's father passed away. She is quite a character and it took me a while to place it, but she reminds me a lot of someone from a TV show. If you've ever seen Malcolm in the Middle, the oldest child Francis works on a farm for a German couple, Otto and Gretchen. Isabel shares the same enthusiam and bubbly nature as Gretchen, not too mention accent, though Isabel's is Africaans/Dutch in nature.

As we are sitting down enjoying our bubbly, there is some noise outside like someone calling to enter. Johann goes outside and returns with two neighbor fellows who have been anxiously awaiting our arrival - John and Greg. They both have drinks in their hands and tell us John is having a party at his house because it's his birthday. They insist on having us over for one drink. We pile in the car and follow them to another farming compound about 10 mins drive away. I notice that the open gate of the compound is protected by an electric fence. I was given an explanation of the fence which I'll tell later.

As we pull into the parking area, I notice all the other vehicles are 4x4, very rugged trucks, all with some sort of customized rack or railing in the bed. Seems everyone gathered are farmers of some sort, mostly cattle and sheep.

John's wife comes out to greet us. She is strikingly beautiful and very dutch-looking. We walk into the spacious living room to find about 10 married couples and a few kids all talking and eating. Everyone stands to aggresively greet Johann and to make Forbes and me feel welcome. There is a table with drinks to which we are quickly ushered so as to participate in the celebration. Isabel hands us plates and commands that we get some food. She told us that we are her children and in her care so we must eat. There is a beef stew, rice, and mutton. If you've heard of my experience with lamb in Turkey, you'll understand why I pretended that it wasn't offered to me.

The first language of everyone at the party, minus Greg, is Africaans. It alternates between a pretty, flowing lilt to a harsh germanic cadence. Or as Forbes so delicately put it, just get a peanut stuck in your throat and you'll sound like you speak Africaans. Always a cultural bastian that one. Most are quick to say their English is not so good, even though I understand them easier than I do Forbes. Ohh I'll be caned for that one.

It becomes apparent after speaking with different people that there is still quite the division of population, whether by language, race, or even color of skin. There are the "Blacks", "Coloureds", "Africaaners", and "Whites". Blacks are the native African people, regardless of their tribal origins. Coloureds are of Indian or Malay decent brought over hundreds of years ago by the slave trade. Africaaners are descendents of the original dutch explorers that arrived as part of the Dutch East Indian Trading Company. The Whites are from the English settlers that came after the Dutch.

It is intriguing seeing the divisions, even within this small party. Besides Forbes and me, Greg was the only person who did not grow up with Africaans for the first language. The others would playfully tease him as he spoke though it did seem to maintain a slight distance between them. Greg grew up in Durban on the east coast of South Africa as part of the White subculture. He and his wife moved here to farm and only recently started speaking Africaans to blend in.

I have noticed that many of the Africaans men come from good stock. Many are over 6 feet tall, dark complected, blue eyes, and muscular. Not to mention nice butts. This was the case with the majority of the men at this party.

As we left, John kept insisting that we go hunting with him tomorrow and kill something. While being as polite of a guest as possible, I explained that I would have to pass on his generosity. Hopefully his continued insistence was fueled by his festiveness and will not be remembered tomorrow.

Which brings up the electric fence. Crime is quite a problem in the whole country. John told us his house has been robbed several times in the last few years and the last time they took all of his guns. He does some sort of side business where he takes people out to hunt. After the last break-in, the insurance company required that he place electrical fence all around his compound before they would continue his insurance.

Wow, it takes a long time to type this much on a small Blackberry keyboard. An hour and a half so far for this post. But otherwise I would just be laying in bed staring at the ceiling.

Today we will be going into Bloemfontein. Johann has a dentist appointment at some point. Seems a long way to travel to see the dentist. I need to buy a plug converter and toothpaste. Yes I forgot to bring toothpaste. The plugs here are unlike anywhere else in the world and it is difficult to find converters outside the country. I have a set with the most common world plugs and South Africa is not one of them.