Tsitsikamma and Addo

Jump off the highest bungee in the world...Check. Play with baby lions and get clawed in the face and neck…Check check. We decided to dedicate the past two weekends to trips and activities that involved jumping off tall objects and playing with big cats. My cool factor has gone up exponentially in the past two weeks (at least I think so).

First, some of you might know that Ethan Zohn, one of Grassroot’s co-founders (yes, the Ethan who won Survivor) was diagnosed with CD20+ Hodgkin’s Lymphoma at the end of April. He has been nominated as a finalist of the GQ Better Men Better World Search; the winner receives $10,000 to donate to his choice of charities. Ethan has pledged to donate all the prize money to GRS, HIV/AIDS, and cancer charities. You can check out Ethan and the other finalists’ background and information, and cast a vote at http://www.thegentlemensfund.com/final_vote.asp.

The weekend before last the PE interns rented a car and headed out to Tsitsikamma, meaning “place of much water” in Khoisan. The park is along the Garden Route, west of PE, stretching 80 km from Nature’s Valley to the Storms River mouth. We stayed at a hostel in Storms River Village where we met some great backpackers and spent two ridiculous nights. Dom convinced us all to bungy off Bloukrans Bridge, the highest bungy jump in the world at 216 meters (think MetLife building, and then picture me jumping off that). It’s conveniently located just outside the park. We all agreed to jump, but as the day drew closer I began to have moments of panic, including elevated heart rate and sweating at random times during the day. Dom had been a couple times before and showed us videos of himself doing jumps, and then the day before we jumped he admitted that he was terrified. Good confidence builder.

I spent the drive from the hostel to the bridge weighing the pros and cons of jumping. Pros = if I survive, I can say I jumped off the highest bungy in the world; my roommates don’t make fun of me for chickening out. Cons = death, among other things. The other three were getting pumped to some Linkin Park, but I couldn’t get into it. I had told a friend that I was going to do this jump and I was pretty sure I’d be crying at the jump-off point. Her reply, being the ever-supportive friend she is, was “Of course you’re going to be crying – make sure someone takes pictures.” (Thanks Whit) I’m proud to say I didn’t cry, though I did start to hyperventilate a bit when I got out of the car and saw the bridge for real.

We signed a form stating we weren’t too heavy to jump – no talk about health risks such as heart attack, blood pressure, or pregnancy (these were addressed on a sign in the gift shop that we saw after jumping). I signed on the dotted line, gave the woman my credit card, and hopped on the scale. I became 66/J11 (66 kg/Jumper 11). We harnessed up and headed down a path warning us to be aware of snakes, following it to a wire mesh bridge that led to the middle of the actual bridge. For those of you who have walked up or down a ferry ramp that you can look down at and see though the open squares, picture a similar ramp only smaller holes (not by much) and a springier tension. Raise yourself up about 700 feet and you’ve got the mini-bridge I had to cross to get to the actual jump. This ended up being the scariest part of the day – I kept my eyes on the back of Mike’s head in front of me and tried to take deep breaths.

We reached the middle of the bridge and climbed up to the jumping area. Loud music was pumping and the crew immediately engaged us in conversation, asking where we’re from, what we like to do, etc. I didn’t realize it until after, but their goal was to keep our minds off what we were about to do. Job well done by them. I was the first to go (not by choice), so they dragged me over to a crate and sat me down to hook me up to the bungee cord. They wrap floatie-esque devices around your shins and then a strap that connects to your harness – your first point of attachment. This is reinforced by another strap, just in case you’re incredibly unlucky. While the guy was attaching my floaties, he told me the strap he was wrapping around my shins could hold up to 3 tons – I replied that I thought that should hold me and we shared a laugh. I’m sure he was humoring me. From that point, I put my arms around two of the guys so they could walk me out to the jump-off point (see picture) where they hold onto you and count down, “5-4-3-2-1 GO!!!” At that point, they don’t exactly push you off, but don’t give you any other choice but to jump. I threw myself off the edge of the platform and for a second looked out at the horizon toward the mountains, wondering with the hell I just did. I screamed until I ran out of breath and managed to keep my eyes open for the entire fall. The initial terror you feel shifts into a pure adrenaline rush as you move from being horizontal (see picture) to falling straight down, head first, arms spread (see next picture). The bounce is gradual and really peaceful once you realize you’re still alive. I started laughing and enjoyed hanging there for a while. I could see the mountains in front of me, and could turn my head to see the ocean in the opposite direction. My teeth and hands were numb with adrenaline.


The one scary part about just hanging there, waiting for someone to come down to help pull you back up, is your feet feel like they could slip out of the floaties. I spent a couple tense minutes flexing my feet as tightly as possible, just hoping they wouldn’t slip and leave me hanging by my backup attachment strap. Thankfully, the floaties prevailed. One of the bungy guys was lowered down to meet me and he cranked my harness so that I was sitting upright for the ride back up to the bridge. Back at the bridge, a whole crew met me with high-fives and hugs, pictures and some more high-fives. I got to watch Mike and Sarah jump on a TV screen I hadn’t seen before I jumped. The music kept pumping and when the four of us had all jumped and been pulled back up, we had a huge group hug. Everyone was jacked with adrenaline and extremely happy to be alive.



From Bloukrans Bridge we drove into the park for lunch and a hike. We hiked the Otter Trail, which takes a few days to hike in total, but we only ventured in about an hour and a half to a fresh-water waterfall that runs into the ocean. The trail starts by taking you into a lightly forested area that runs along the ocean. You walk out of the forested area onto a rocky beach where you can look up and down the coast. It felt like I was home being on that stretch of beach. The rocks were bigger, more like boulders, but a sense of peace came over me being that close to the ocean, running and jumping across the rocks. We hiked across the beach for most of the trip, climbing here and there on the taller of the boulders to look out at the ocean. The colors were intense and beautiful, and the waves were incredible.

The waterfall came off the cliff that runs along the beach. The water fell into a large pool that had formed in the rocks, and flowed down into the ocean. The water was freezing according to the boys, who decided to climb up next to the falls and then swim across the pool. I sat for a while watching the waves beat on the rocks, which are all shaped so that they slant downward toward the ocean – visible evidence of the waves crashing against them for hundreds of thousands of years. We hiked back to our car and drove to the restaurant at the end of the road for dinner. We stood outside for awhile after dark looking at the stars. The sky here is huge and when it’s clear at night we have incredible stars. We found the Southern Cross, and the other night we finally located Orion’s Belt.


Sunday was more relaxed, just zip-lining over a river and some waterfalls. Normally I’d be a little nervous zip-lining, but after the bungy, I feel weirdly brave. From here, sky-diving is probably the next step up in terms of extreme weekend outings.

So the next weekend we went to Addo Elephant Park, which is about 40 minutes outside of PE. The park has elephants (obviously), as well as lions, kudu (like reindeer), warthogs, jackals, rhino, etc. We decided to go for a sunrise tour, starting at 6 am. It definitely wasn’t warm for the tour, which meant the elephants wouldn’t be abundant, but we saw an incredible sunrise and some of the smaller animals, like warthogs and jackals. We stopped to watch some jackals running around and the tour guide explained that males and females mate for life and are considered monogamous. If the female dies, the male generally doesn’t take another mate because he can’t leave his territory. Females on the other hand search out new mates, usually younger and who haven’t chosen a partner yet. The guide equated this to “what they call in America, a ‘cougar’.” (For those who don’t know, a “cougar” is an older, attractive woman who preys on younger men) After taking a second to realize what the guide had said, the four token Americans burst out laughing. He then asked, “Are there any cougars on board?” We replied no, but we did have two potential cougar victims with us. It’s amazing sometimes what filters through to other countries from America.

We ended up seeing one elephant, though it was mostly hidden behind the scrub, but we didn’t get to see any lions out and about. In the car leaving the park, we decided to try to find a spot where we could play with baby lions – one of the boys had read about a place nearby that sounded pretty cool, and seeing as how it was only 9 in the morning, we figured we could kill some more of the day searching out Simba and Nala. Before we got outside of Addo’s boundaries, we saw a sign for a Lion and Croc Ranch. Sounded sketchy, but it had potential. We pulled off the road and headed inside, where we pulled a hungover you guy out of the bar where he was watching rugby to give us a tour. He worked at the ranch, tending the big cats. They had 4 or 5 pits of crocodiles, all of which were motionless and boring. We saw a Bengal tiger who would lick our guide’s fingers when he put them through the fence. After seeing the basic stuff, we got to the good part – the lion cubs.

We went into a large, caged-in area where four 7-month-old lions were hanging out under a tree. They seemed pretty big, but our guide walked right up to them and started petting and scratching their stomachs. They would start to play with him and he would throw them around, bat their paws, etc. It took a minute or two, but we all finally sat down and let the lions sniff us out. Two of the males decided they liked the taste of my feet – they began licking and semi-biting my toes. It was weird/scary at first, but then it just tickled. Before I knew it, they were putting the paws on my chest and shoulders, and grabbing onto my hair. More scary than fun, but I tried to roll with it.

There were 3 males and 1 female in the caged area. The female seemed extremely wary of us the entire time we were there, and she started to pace around while we played with the males. Out of nowhere, our guide tells me, “You need to stay still.” I thought he was kidding because it had been so light and funny, what with the lions licking my toes and all. “No, I’m serious…that one’s still got the wild in it.” So I had a “wild” lion creeping up behind me, neck exposed and everything. I started to freak a bit on the inside, but the roommates say I seemed pretty calm. All of a sudden, I felt two paws on my shoulders, and then one went to my head and the claws came out, gripping a big chunk of hair. The other paw went to the back of my neck and just a little too much pressure was applied. This is when I started to freak outwardly, covering my face and saying something profound like, “Ow, ow, oh my God…” There was a moment of “Wow this is happening right now…I’m getting mauled by baby lions.” The guide grabbed the lion who was on my back and threw him off – apparently they just wanted to play. The so called “wild” one was actually still a couple feet away just watching me. It ended up being one of the playful males who jumped me from behind. Regardless, I got out of that cage and really had no further desire to play with the actual baby lions who we saw next. Any other day and they would have been the cutest cats I’ve seen, but I was bleeding a little and starting to worry about bacteria and infection and all the other stuff bio majors learn.


In case you’re wondering, I’m fine one week later. No infection, no serious scars, though that would have been pretty sweet. The boys were pretty jealous that I got attacked. They took pictures of the puncture wounds and kept looking at me like I had just done something seriously cool. Looking back at the pictures (because it was highly documented), it does look pretty badass.

In other news, I’m set and ready to go to the Training of Coaches next week. One of the Head Coaches is unable to go, so I think I’m going to be pretty involved and busy. I’m really excited to see how these are run – they’re a huge part of our success as an organization and it’ll be a great opportunity to understand how and why these trainings are so vital and successful. I’ll be sure to take pictures and update everyone when I get back next weekend.

We’ve been busy over the past couple weeks, trying to input data for our curriculum to meet our goals for the end of this year and organizing holiday camps for the students’ holiday the week of 28th September. In addition to that, we had SKILLZ graduations all over Zwide, New Brighton, and Motherwell that required food runs and transportation of coaches. I’ve been driving coaches to and from schools and running errands for supplies, so I’ve had a chance to get out of the office and know my way around the area.

The graduations are the culmination of the SKILLZ curriculum. Rows of chairs are set up outside or in a classroom and the graduates are encouraged to invite their families to attend, though there is usually only a handful of parents who end up coming. The kids demonstrate one or two of the activities that are part of the curriculum, such as Find the Ball, where two lines of kids face each other standing side to side, hands behind their backs so that the other line can’t see a ball moving side to side behind them. A coach will place a ball in the hands of one participant in each line, and then sing while the kids pass the ball up and down the line. At the end of the song, the coach will ask a participant from one line to name the one holding the ball in the other line. Usually the kids guess wrong, and the game progresses to the ball representing HIV and the child holding it at the end being HIV+. The activity is designed to show participants that you can’t identify an HIV+ individual just by looking at him or her; the only way to know for sure if someone is HIV+ is to get tested. We did this activity during training at Dartmouth, and it’s a lot of fun and does a great job of getting the message across.

The graduates put on skits about stigma and discrimination against HIV+ individuals; they read poems they’ve written for the celebration, and sing and dance. One of the graduations I saw was held outside, with rows and rows of graduates, sprinkled with some parents, and other students lining the perimeter. The kids on the perimeter would creep slowly in toward the performers until one of the coaches had to push them back so the graduates had enough room. The kids who haven’t been through the curriculum yet are clearly eager to be a part of it; an encouraging thing to see. The kids at this particular graduation went up in groups and sang beautiful Xhosa songs accompanied by background singers and dancers. The dancing here is so natural and rhythmic – I don’t dare try it yet because I’ll look so uncoordinated and white. The performances give you chills and really make the more tedious times worth it.

On the 5th of September (first Saturday of the month) we put on a mini-camp for St. Barnabas church in Zwide (I’ve included some pictures of the activities and teams in the tournament). The office staff, along with 5 or 6 coaches and the four interns, spent half the day with a large group doing SKILLZ activities and reffing a mini-tournament at a local sports center. The teams would play one or two games, and then take part in either Find the Ball or another activity called Choices (designed to show people it’s ok to make their own choices, the coach yells “Favorite soccer team!” and the kids get into groups if they have the same favorite, or stand by themselves if they’re the only one who likes the team). The Tuesday before the day with St. Barnabas, Mpumi called us into the office and told us we would be running the SKILLZ activities with the groups – pretty daunting considering we’ve had zero training in teaching the curriculum. On Friday a group of coaches took us outside and helped us run through each activity. They pretended to be the kids, asking questions about each drill, and we would explain the key messages. It was fun – they’re very playful and love to joke so it was easy to laugh at ourselves when we messed something up. It was also great to learn how to teach some of the activities.

Before the St. Barnabas group arrived at the sports center, two little boys (in the picture) came over and watched us setting up. We started playing 2v2: Dom and me on one team with the younger of the two boys in goal, and Mike and VIP (one of our coaches) with the older of the two boys in their net. Our goalie is the boy dribbling on the court where we played. They spent the day with us, the younger of the two staying close to my side for most of the time. I love these random little connections I make with the really young kids. Their English is usually minimal if anything, but they’re still very innocent and love to play. As the kids get older they understand how to hassle us and use our attention to ask for things like pictures and food, sometimes money. The young ones light up when we play with them and it gives us a chance to let loose and act like kids too.

The tournament and activities went really well – we ended up entering a GRS team and tied our opponents. I helped with Find the Ball, and we all participated in Choices with a huge group of older women from the church. Everyone loved the activity – they confused “Favorite Color!” with “Favorite Car!” when Dom yelled out categories and we could hear them yell “Jeep!” and “Yellow…White!” Apparently our accents are confusing.

The day with St. Barnabas was a huge success –the group loved our activities and we loved the opportunity to teach the SKILLZ curriculum with the coaches. This week and last week have been focused more on our holiday camps and Training of Coaches coming up next week. I’m going to be driving Titie and Siya to Alice where the ToC is being held. I’m really excited to see an entire ToC, hoping to get some training myself during the week. Titie and SIya, two of our Head Coaches, are great teachers and I’m excited to see them in action. We’ll be there Sunday through Friday night – my first chunk of time away from PE since I got here. I’ll be sure to write some updates and share photos when I get back.

Some info on HIV/AIDS in SA

We’ve been in PE for almost four weeks now and it feels like we’ve been here for months. It’s really easy to forget about the outside world when everyday is a sensory overload. South Africa, and PE specifically, is one of the most complex, interesting places I’ve experienced in terms of racial tension and divide, and of course in terms of the HIV epidemic. Coming here I expected racial differences, but I had an idea in my head of a diverse and mixed population, all living and interacting as one. It’s true there are populations of whites, blacks, and coloreds, but they live and interact mostly in separate parts of the city. There is mixing when you are downtown, but as you drive out of the center of town it becomes more and more divided.

The community we live in is essentially suburbia. There is a large Afrikaner population, sprinkled with some blacks and coloreds. Most of my interactions with Afrikaners have been less than positive. I’ve found them to be somewhat closed-off and rude compared to the blacks in the townships who we work and interact with every day. When we talk to local whites about what we’re here for and where we work, they are shocked. They can’t believe that we venture into Zwide on a daily basis; only a few have been to the townships themselves. One guy told us he had driven through Zwide once when he was younger, and that was a pretty big deal. Talking about it later, we realized that whites growing up in this culture really don’t have a reason to just go into the township during their day to day lives. The boys met a couple American students studying at the university downtown and they said they were told not to go anywhere near the townships while they’re here. It’s discouraging to see how wonderful the people are here and know there is this continued discrimination still being propagated.

It’s very obvious that we’re American – not just because of the accent or the clothes and hair, but because we talk to everyone and anyone. Our Indian neighbor, Vassie (by the way, makes incredible curries and samosas) told us that whites here generally don’t talk to blacks and coloreds just to have a conversation. They do business with them in daily life and interact in that way, but they generally don’t mix company outside of work. She commented on how talkative and friendly we are, how we ask questions about her life and how she’s doing when we go get dinner. It’s not something I thought much about in the States; it was always natural to smile at someone and say hello when you walk by, but here just saying hi and asking how someone’s day is going can make all the difference in their perception of us as whites, and particularly as Americans.

The HIV epidemic is a whole other arena that I’m still trying to come to terms with. In the States we hear about the devastation of the disease on the news, but there are rarely enough details to convey the extent of the epidemic to the people sitting at home. We all know HIV and AIDS are wiping out millions of people, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa, but putting faces and names to those statistics has rocked me. I just finished Helen Epstein’s The Invisible Cure, which gives good statistical and historical background on the epidemic in Africa, and the Western response to the rise of the disease in the 90s. She writes about Uganda’s success in dramatically lowering HIV incidence when the surrounding countries experienced just the opposite. The book also addresses the current day issues, especially in South Africa, that are contributing to the continuing spread of the disease. Definitely worth reading to get a general idea of what’s going on here.

The HIV rate is 32% in the townships of PE. One in three people have the virus. We have about 40 coaches who are trained in the curriculum and teach kids about HIV prevention and transmission, and statistics say 12-13 of them are infected. Obviously the fact that they’re infected doesn’t matter when it comes to determining whether they’re good coaches. It does throw into sharp relief the fact that a third of these people who I’m getting to know and forming friendships with are infected by an incurable disease. I was driving one coach around doing some errands last week with Sarah and we got to talking about her family life. She has a one year old daughter and lives with her grandmother and sisters. She asked if we wanted to meet them, which of course we did. He daughter was standing at the door when we pulled up, bundled up in a hat and sweater. She had these incredible, big brown eyes and just stared at us, probably wondering why the hell we’re so pale. We got back in the car and the coach bluntly told us how much of a relief it was to find out her daughter was HIV negative when she was born. She then mentioned that she herself is positive. It took a few seconds for that to sink in, to realize how much a part of everyday life HIV is for people in the townships. It scares me a bit to find out who among the other coaches is HIV positive, knowing what the disease does to people; not only to their bodies but their families and communities. One thing we’ve been told by Africans is, “If you’re not infected, your affected,” and it’s the absolute truth.

I haven’t put my thoughts and feelings about these things together on paper yet, so it’s difficult to convey the discomfort and anxiety that I sometimes feel, but also how incredible these people are and how happy I am to be here. We were told at orientation that we will become close friends with many infected and affected people, some of whom will die of the disease. It’s strange going into a place, opening yourself up to people, and knowing that some of them will be killed by this virus that is yet incurable.

One of the biggest issues with HIV/AIDS in Africa is that many countries refuse to address it on a personal level. That is, it is viewed as a virus that affects “high-risk groups,” including prostitutes, truckers, migrants, etc. Westerners came from this point of view in the 90s when they were developing programs to fight the virus. Their methods were largely based on how the virus spread among people in the U.S., i.e. gay men and intravenous drug users. The problem is that in Africa, it’s not just the high-risk groups who are affected, it’s entire communities. South Africa’s former president claimed AIDS was a disease of poverty and malnutrition. Opinions such as Mbeki’s that don’t accept the virus for what it is, blaming other parties and sources, as well as concurrent relationships and transactional relationship (where the girl receives material items, i.e. cell phone, makeup, etc, from her boyfriend in return for sex) in South Africa, as well as other affected countries, are the major contributors to the epidemic.

A concurrent relationship is one where one or both partners participate in multiple other long-term sexual relationships while they are together. It’s not the same as affairs, which occur more randomly and in which one or both participants tend to use condoms. The problem with concurrent relationships is they create a sexual network in which partners are less likely to use condoms due to their longer nature. If one person becomes infected, he or she will infect not only their multiple partners, but also their partners’ partners and so on. You can imagine how rapidly the virus spreads among these sexual networks.

This is really just the basics of what’s being addressed by GRS and other organizations who are trying to educate communities and fight HIV/AIDS. We’re adjusting to the fact that we can’t work as quickly and on as many things at once as we’d like to, the way we could in the States. It’s frustrating for sure, but it’s also helped me to slow down and take my time. I’m taking in more than I would if I were moving at an American pace, and it’s helping me understand where South Africans are coming from and what their mindsets are.

I hope this information helps paint a better picture of HIV/AIDS in South Africa and what we’re trying to do. I have pictures that I want to share, and I’m working on how to upload them and provide some descriptions for all of you. Until then, the pictures below are of all the 2009 GRS interns when we were in Cape Town at the beginning of August, and the four of us from PE at Jeffrey's Bay. Keep the questions and love coming!

-Rosie