The Luckiest Unlucky Girl

Effects of Treatment

May 7, 2016Cancer, Third Time's a Charm3 Comments

It’s been a few weeks since my diagnosis, but you may be surprised to find that my brain radiation treatment has already come and gone. Now it is time for my body to rest and recover, as I come down from all the medicine I’ve been taking. As mentioned before, Jon and I visited the radiologist two weeks ago in order to learn what the diagnosis was and what treatment I should undergo. We were hoping for the localized gamma knife treatment, but because I had eight lesions instead of five, I had to go with a more intense brain radiation. We had done our research and according to the Mayo Clinic, by using the gamma knife treatment, “the specialized equipment focuses close to 200 tiny beams of radiation on a tumor or other target. Although each beam has very little effect on the brain tissue it passes through, a strong dose of radiation is delivered to the site where all the beams meet.” Gamma knife treatment is supposed to be better for you, because it directly attacks the tumor and causes minimal damage to other healthy brain tissue. The laser surgery is often usually completed in one day, instead of over a period of weeks. As you can see, this would have been preferable, but the thing with cancer is you don’t always get a lot of say about what happens to your body. Whatever horrible “treatment”/ method of torture needs to be applied to the deadly cancer cells is what you do, so you brace for whatever comes your way.

I was given a choice of 30 units of radiation spread out over ten days or five days of more intense radiation of 20 units. The doctor said both methods were equally effective, so, since I was young and they felt my body could handle it, they chose the treatment that was more intense. The treatment was similar to the whole brain radiation I received in June, but this time I don’t have any lesions in the cortex of the brain, so the treatment was focused on the cerebellum, rather than the whole area. The cerebellum is the part of the brain in the lower part of the skull. It does not deal with cognitive functions such as speech, movement, and long-term memory, which is good. I can’t even fathom not being able to read or write or think like I used to. The new treatment shouldn’t affect any of those processes, but it still seemed like a decision based on the lesser of two evils: which one will damage me less?

So, now that the treatment was appropriately outlined, without much ado, I started radiation last Wednesday and spent five days in Clinica Alemana getting my brain (and hopefully the tumors) fried. The treatment was pretty much the same as last time but the lasers went on for much longer since it was double in intensity. Hearing those laser beams through my mask going for minutes at a time and smelling that poisonous odor pouring over my face was not fun. The first time they buckled me by my head onto the board I almost had a panic attack. What if I screamed and freaked out- would anyone come to save me from the evil, radiation machine? The first day was traumatic as the treatment was much longer than the previous time and the lasers just kept going and going. I kept trying to hold my breath so I wouldn’t smell the radiation and then remembered that I needed to calm down and just breathe out the bad and breathe in the good, as Jon taught me last time. In order to distract me from my reality, I listened to songs with courageous lyrics like Stronger and Brave and pretended I was a lion roaring away the cancer. When the five days (Wednesday-Tuesday) were finally over I stumbled off the board and successfully shoved that awful memory away in a box and locked the key. The radio technicians, the same as the two times before, were kind to me and handed me some tissues as they helped me back to the waiting room.

For this latest round of treatment my mom flew down here again, taking care of me. It is the seventh trip she has taken in the five years I’ve lived here, which is a testament to how seriously she takes her role of mother. I wish she could spend the money and time doing something fun like visiting grandkids or traveling to see the pyramids, but she has chosen to be by my side instead. I am forever grateful for that.

The trip to the radiologist every day for five days was pretty much a horrible rendition of Déjà vu combined with a lot of needless stress. Jon had to go back to work so my mom was left to drive me to my daily appointment. Unfortunately the first two days we had a lot of trouble getting the task completed, which my mom and I have now laughed about. The first day, the car battery died, so we had to leave the car in the driveway and take a last minute taxi, hoping and praying that no one would hit the tail end of our car, which was jutting out into the road. The second day, a man came to read the gas meter just as we were about to leave and so Chingy got out and we spent the next ten minutes trying to catch him. The third day there were absolutely NO parking spaces at the hospital and so I had to get out of the car and support myself all the way to the radiation room by myself while my mom circled and circled in the lot. I am still suffering pretty intensely from dizziness and nausea so I must have looked like a freak with my shorn curly hair, no makeup, and holding onto the wall to keep me upright as I made my way to the corridor and down a set a stairs.

The main problem is that my head feels like a balloon bobbing indiscriminately on top of my head. When walking, I lurch to the sides and often feel like I’m about to fall down. The worst is trying to find something, like shoes or spices, as I have to move my head a lot and I cannot regain my stability. Sometimes when I’m dizzy and tottering around, not able to walk without support or move my head, I feel more like an 80 year old woman than someone who’s only been on the planet 34 years. I really hope this condition improves as it has greatly reduced my quality of life. It takes me forever to shower and change, but I make sure to do it every day, even if it’s at 3 in the afternoon.

Last week my dad flew down here to be with me as well, and it has been a great comfort to have my parents both down here for support and to binge watch Grey’s Anatomy. Entertaining has been tough because I can’t handle very much activity. This Wednesday we walked to the fashion museum to see a VERY small exhibit about Pele, and the four-block walk really tuckered me out. Holding onto my dad’s arm like a cripple made me feel a little pathetic, really, but I was glad to get out of the house. The rest of the time I have been lying on the couch and dealing with the side effects of my disease and treatment, which are the following:

Hair loss AGAIN!: Due to the radiation I will lose the hair that I just started to grow, which is a huge bummer considering I will probably have to wear a wig for my sister’s wedding in January, as it usually takes me about nine months to a year to grow my hair. I decided that since I was going to lose my hair again I might as well wear it au natural while I could, so I have been sporting a very short pixie cut for the last two weeks. Next week I will be bald for the third time in four years…which I guess isn’t really a priority, but nothing fun to look forward to. I’m sure it will be traumatic.

Stomach Problems: Because my treatment is not stopping my cancer cells from invading the brain, this year I will be taking two oral chemotherapy pills for five days every month, which is pretty tough on the stomach. This pill is what the doctor has prescribed to treat the brain lesions until something new and better comes along. My immunotherapy drugs (Herceptin and Perjeta) have been preventing the cancer from spreading to the internal organs, but have not been very effective with the brain. They are hoping that this drug will keep the cancer at bay until something less toxic can be used. The nurses that gave me the boxes of oral chemotherapy were very adamant that no one touch the pills and that they needed to be disposed of properly at the clinic, which, I’m sure you can guess, thrilled me no end. That sounds like something I should definitely have in my body! Regardless of what I eat and the stomach medicine I take, I always wake up around 3, 4, 5, in the morning with horrible indigestion and heartburn. Poor Jon!

Insomnia: I am also back on the steroids, albeit at a much smaller dose than before, but have been feeling the insomnia from a year ago. I also take strong stomach medicine to prevent the steroids from wreaking havoc on my intestines. My skin hasn’t blown up like last time, but I keep waiting for it to. I am waiting for the weight gain as well. During my middle of the night awakenings, I try my best not to bother Jon who has to go to work in the morning. I, on the other hand, can be awake for a few hours and go back to sleep when he leaves. Judging by his constant yawn when he gets home from the day and tired eyes, my attempts to allow him to sleep have not been so successful. I feel really guilty that I’m making my husband so tired.

Memory Loss: In addition to the five other pills I down each morning, I also have to take medicine to protect my memory for three months after the treatment, which is frightening. The radiologist said I will probably lose even more short-term memory, such as where I put that thing that was in my hand five minutes ago. Most likely I won’t even remember what that thing was or what I needed it for, but that’s part of getting older right? Who needs to remember things anyway? (Not teachers or chefs or event planners- that’s for sure.)

In addition to enduring the side effects of cancer treatment, I also have managed to do some fun, real life things over the past few weeks, like dance it up at a really fun wedding and take my dad out for a great birthday meal. I had to save up my energy for both events, but it was worth it. Clutching onto Jon on the dance floor so I did not fall over brought us even closer so that’s something, right. As I was clutching on to his belt buckles, I just pretended I was drunk like everyone else. Anyone who only knows my story from following my posts and pictures on Facebook from those two nights would think I got a sassy new haircut and was living life to the fullest. I look at the smiling face in those photos, can’t really believe that’s me, and feel relieved I can still pretend from time to time that my life is normal. And I guess it is… normal for me at least.

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I Am Eli… Hear Me Roar!

April 27, 2016Cancer, Third Time's a Charm12 Comments

20160127_7867 copy — This is the fiercest looking lion we encountered while in South Africa. He has been in many fights for power and dominance, which is why his tooth is now hanging from the outside of his gums

I didn’t write for the last few days because my roar sounded more like a whimper than a ferocious call of dominance and savagery. Occasionally the whimper turned into a lonely howl, like that of a young animal waiting for someone to come save it from danger. I felt lost and alone, and really unsure of my ability to go through all this again. In the shower, and in the middle of the night, and anytime I was alone, I just kept thinking about the hopelessness of my situation. The truth is, nothing and no one can save you from cancer. If it is as aggressive and intent on leaving its claws in someone, as mine is, it really just seems like a matter of time. How can someone miraculously beat cancer twice and then turn around only to be diagnosed a third time? My thoughts since then have been filled with the panic that always gripped me at the plate when I used to play softball. The count is three balls and two strikes. It’s do or die time. I square up to the pitcher and take a mighty swing. Instead of making contact, the ball zooms past me into the catcher’s mitt and the umpire calls, “Strike Three- You’re Out!”

The day after Jon and I received the initial diagnosis from Dr. M we visited the radiologist who looked at my MRI scans and gave us a much more detailed report, which was unfortunately worse than the information we had gotten the day before. To be fair, Majlis had not seen the scans and was just reading us results from the lab technicians who were looking at my brain on a small computer screen. Instead of only having one 2 cm lesion and another that was too small to even measure, the radiologist told us that I actually had EIGHT new lesions in the brain that needed radiating. There is the larger one, the one pressing on my spine and making me dizzy and nauseous, as well as 7 other lesions (each about 6 mm). If I had five or less lesions, they could proceed with a localized treatment with less harmful long term implications. However, since I apparently have eight lesions to get rid of, the radiologist said that I cannot use the gamma ray treatment because it would be too toxic to my brain cells, they would be exposed to too much radiation. “Wow, I’m really screwed,” I thought to myself. “How is this so much worse than the information we were given yesterday?” “Is this the beginning of the end?” I tried to make eye contact with Jon, but it was too difficult.

As you can imagine, we were both completely distraught by the bad news but tried to deal with it as best we could. “At least I don’t have to get a new Freddy Krueger mask made because they still should mine from before,” I joked. But, sadly, when I asked, they told me they threw the old mask out, so I had to wait for an hour to get another one made. As the lab technicians stretched a hot piece of plastic across my facial features to cool into place, silent tears fell from my eyes and formed little rivers on my cheeks. The mask definitely makes me feel claustrophobic and I’m glad I cannot see myself wearing it because I would probably freak out. I know it is made tight like that so they don’t accidentally radiate something that they aren’t supposed to, but it makes me feel like a freak show. The mask is so tight this time that I cannot open my eyes and my forehead and nose are covered in checkerboard mesh marks after just five minutes of having it buckled on. It is not fun. I left the appointment completely dejected and whimpered the whole way home.

One of the most difficult aspects for me mentally has been untethering myself again from the life I had worked so hard to reenter. Due to my dizziness I no longer have the energy to teach anymore or be at work. I can’t drive myself places safely, run errands, or walk the dogs by myself. I can’t even enjoy a simple glass of wine. Participating in a soccer match or doing anything athletic at all… forget about it. And so I am left, flapping in the breeze, desperately hanging on to the Eli I remember, but wondering what is left to tie me to her. Sometimes it seems like it would be easier to just let go and untether myself altogether. But of course that’s not really the path we’ve been designed for.

As soon as the news of my diagnosis broke, I received many emails from well-wishers, shocked and horrified that the cancer had returned again. The emails didn’t say much other than people wanted to show their support and wished they could take away my pain. Don’t worry- there isn’t anything else to say and do when tragedy strikes a third time, so I am grateful for the messages. Initially, though, I wasn’t interested in what people had to say because I was having a hard enough time getting out of bed and continuing on with life. I kept my phone charged in my room and didn’t look at it as the words came pouring in. It was just too much. However, Jon convinced me that the best thing to do would be to have everyone over in a show of support and strength, so in the spirit of the Timmtingers, we held a “Celebration of Bad News” gathering on Saturday night. We laughed and ate and tried to be as festive as possible, because honestly- what else is there to do? Although I barely had enough energy to dress myself and sit on the couch to receive hugs, the party was very therapeutic for me. I am constantly moved by the amount of support that I receive from friends, the community, and simple acquaintances.

Throughout the party I continued to grow in strength. Friends of mine have made pink Team Eli bracelets similar to the yellow Livestrong ones to sell at school. The proceeds of the sales are going to METAvivor, an organization I support that sponsors late stage (metastatic) cancer research. If you’re so inclined, you can donate at the top of my blog page or by clicking on this link: http://www.metavivor.org/. I will bring bracelets home in June for anyone who wants them, so put your orders in now. A huge shout out goes to the Swiryn/Galbraith clan for getting that initiative started. Initially they made three hundred bracelets and sold out of them within a day. I am in awe and deeply humbled. Team Eli Bracelets

I recently read a quote on a breast cancer website I follow. It said, “We never know how we are going to die, but we can choose how to live.” So, I’ve decided that as long as I’m able to, I will not think about dying of cancer. Instead I choose to travel, I choose to host parties, I choose to cook, I choose to write, I choose to laugh when the moment arises. In short, I choose to be Eli. I know, at times, my roar will falter, but I know that when I can’t do it alone, Team Eli will be behind me, gnashing their teeth and baring their claws. So, here I go. I’m up on my hind legs bellowing with all my might: “I am Eli- hear me roar!!”

Metavivor Roar Team Eli

Fears Realized

April 20, 2016Cancer10 Comments

As Kelly Clarkson’s popular lyrics proclaim, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” If my life has taught me anything, it has taught me that…

Those of you who follow the blog and keep up with my story know that I haven’t been feeling well the past few weeks. Those of you who didn’t know, or came across this blog by accident when trolling the web, I can honestly say this week has been one of the most difficult of my life. My husband can certainly attest to that, as he has been the one to take my hand and lead me across parking lots and over uneven pavement when I feel dizzy. Jon has watched me stumble my way to my classroom, which happens to be as far away from the front gate as any classroom on campus. (Bonus: you can only reach it be climbing or descending at least two sets of stairs.) He’s the one who’s had to rub my back when I’m up puking in the middle of the night, and he’s the one who’s had to patiently try to encourage me as I attempt to shower and dress for work. This act sometimes ending in complete and utter failure. Several times last week my attempts at normalcy were thwarted and I had to run to the bathroom to throw up last night’s spaghetti. The last few weeks I’ve playing mind tricks with myself: if I can just wake myself up with a shower, hold off the nausea for a few hours, and not turn my head too much, maybe I can make it through the day. More often that not, though, I have been unable to do so.

When Dr. Majlis told me last week that I might have vertigo instead of cancer, Jon and I, and probably all of my friends and family clung to that belief. I mean, it made sense: I was having dizziness and nausea, which could have been attributed to the hearing problems I’ve been having in my right ear ever since my last treatment. The problem comes and goes, but I recently flew to Brazil and the change in air pressure tends to make the ear more clogged, so I believed I had vertigo like everyone else.

But as I kept hearing stories about people who actually suffered from vertigo I became a little suspicious. According to their stories they felt awful (Check), threw up when they moved their head (Check) and basically could not move for many days (Check). However, I did notice some obvious differences as well. Most people complained that they weren’t able to go to sleep because lying down brought on the spins. And then I realized, although I am very dizzy, the world hasn’t really been spinning for me. It’s more like everything reverts to slow motion when I turn my head or change directions. It’s like those pictures taken with long exposure of night stars slowly moving across the sky and leaving behind a streaky trail. That’s what my vision feels like at times.

When the medicine the neurologist gave me for vertigo (the same one that others have sworn by) wasn’t working and made me sicker instead… I knew. However, I gave the vertigo theory one more try and let Dr. Majlis prescribe some new, stronger stomach medicine for me. It worked for a little bit, just in time for me to enjoy a wonderful tasting menu at 99 with a guest chef from Mexico. (I guess if I had to pick one night to feel good, that would have been the one. That deliciousness was the only meal that has gone down successfully in the last few weeks). However, my good feelings started to slow as Santiago was inundated with rain over the weekend. Our city is not equipped for handling rain and so the rivers overflowed and enveloped the streets in mud and running water. Close to a million people did not have potable water as the water treatment plant was hit by a muddy landslide and needed to shut down before it could operate again. School was cancelled, which was good because I had been feeling too weak to grade or write comments, which were due Tuesday, but all I kept thinking was, “Gosh: I hope I can make it to my MRI appointment tomorrow.”

Well, the water retreated and we were able to get the scan done, but not before I had a major meltdown in the Imageniologia section of the hospital. Apparently since we hadn’t booked the exam through International Patients, we had to pay for the MRI upfront and get reimbursed later. It was either that or wait until April 29 for the machine to be available again and for my insurance to pre-approve the procedure. Well, after some yelling, blaming, and child-like antics, we decided to cough up the credit card and get the test done. Although the unfriendly man checking me in at the counter thought I was a nut job, the MRI was actually a welcome relief from all of the grading I had done that day. I was finally alone and could close my eyes for the next 1.5 hours. When I returned home at 8:00 to finish inputting the grades and comments I found that the grading system was down again, so I went to bed, unable to finish my work, but grateful for the time spent laying my head on the pillow.

In the morning, I forced myself to get out of bed to go to school and finish those grades because I knew, I just knew, that I had to get them done before the MRI results. I had three fruit drops and no breakfast that morning, in order to keep the nausea at bay. It was a horrible day but I managed to finish my grading on time. Phew! So off we went to receive the MRI news. Going in to the results I knew there was about a 50-50 chance that I was sick again, so I tempered my expectations. I know Jon did too. It would have been great to confirm that I do, indeed, have vertigo, but we both had seen that I had been feeling pretty bad, so I was prepared for the worst. Dr. M greeted us with a weak smile instead of his usual jovial expression, so as I entered the room, I steeled myself for the inevitable.

Although my previous lesions were disappearing, he said, the MRI found new lesions at the base of my skull. The largest is about 2 cm and is what has been causing my dizziness and nausea. All my fears had come true… the cancer was back. All the air was immediately sucked out of my body and I didn’t know what to do. How would I tell the bad news to my family members and friends who have offered me such support? Jon and I sat in silence for a while, alone with our thoughts, while the doctor scheduled an appointment with the radiologist in order to go over our treatment options. He then prescribed some more steroids to ease the swelling in my brain. When I was walking out of the office to get my steroid drip, the enormity and unfairness of the situation hit me and I began gasping for air. As I lost control of my body, I grasped onto Jon’s arm for dear life and basically let him pull me to the outpatient section of the hospital. A nurse that has been administering my treatment and taking care of me for the last three years had to console me and let me cry on her shoulder. When I stopped blubbering, they hooked me up and then began the agonizing wait. The treatment took about two hours, much longer than we expected. But the time spent at the clinic gave me time to control my emotions before I called my family. I was grateful, as Jon and I were able to make those important yet horrific calls with as much emotional detachment as humanly possible. I think we had both become numb. Somehow, we were even able to pick up some dinner and watch a chef show on Netflix to get our minds in the right place to be able to sleep.

Although I slept peacefully, I awoke early this morning and immediately remembered everything from the day before. In that dark room, my fears pounced on me and carried me down some really dark paths. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to battle cancer and the effects of treatment again. Luckily, my dog, Chingy, heard me silently crying and jumped onto the bed to sniff my face and lick my tears. Satisfied that it was me and not a cat, he gave a big yawn, blasting his stinky doggy breath in my face, and then harumphed down on my pillow, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft fur conveniently catching the rest of the tears on my cheek. As I watched him drift back into doggy land, I could hear my wonderful and long-suffering husband snoring softly on the other side of him. It was only then that I had a momentary thought: “Maybe I CAN do this again after all.”

Fear

April 10, 2016Cancer, Diagnosis Two3 Comments

Fear can be a powerful enemy. If it hooks its claws into you, it can reduce even the strongest human to a mere puddle of flesh and bones. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “fear defeats more people than any other one thing in the world,” and I think he is absolutely correct. Since October, I have spent the past six months taming my cancer fears and trying to keep them in their cage where they belong. And, for a while there, it worked. I was able to convince myself that I was a normal person, just going about my daily routines like other healthy people. Aside from my oncologist checkups, regular blood work appointments, and antibody treatments every three weeks, I tried to keep cancer out of my every day life as much as possible.

Unfortunately, though, I have not been feeling well recently; so this week, the fear mongrels were able to sneak past the door of their carefully constructed holding pen and unleash themselves upon me with a force that I was unable to stop. In the past few weeks I have been thinking that something is definitely wrong with me, and I began to fear the worst. My college roomie and friend for life came to visit for Easter Break, and so we took her and her boyfriend to my favorite city in Chile: Valparaiso. It was so good to see them and we all had a tremendous time, but my fears were barking at my heels the whole trip. Unfortunately, the city of Valpo consists of a series of steep hills overlooking the port, so you have to climb a lot of stairs and walk up and down sloping roads in order to go anywhere in the city. I had to hold on to the railings for dear life, in case I fell and really hurt myself. Having my toe all bandaged up due to my fifth ingrown toenail surgery, probably didn’t help me to stay balanced. For a former college athlete, my lack of fitness and strength has been a drastic mental shift for me. It doesn’t seem so long ago that I worked out every day, endured strenuous training sessions, and summoned the strength to make long sprints down the field at the end of the game. Now, about all my body can handle is being pulled around the park by my dogs when I take them for a walk. Mush, doggies, mush!

At school I have also become increasingly dizzy. Anytime I lift my head to write on the board or swivel around in my chair to answer my students’ questions, I become disoriented and feel like the world is spinning all around me. These dizzy spells also come with heavy doses of nausea that have made eating un-enjoyable. For a foodie like me, that has been a special type of torture, (but also has allowed me to lose a few pounds…) Last week I became so nauseous that I had trouble eating anything, because any time I ate a meal, whether it was healthy or not, I would have horrible indigestion afterwards. And every morning, when I woke up, I would desperately flail about, blindly reaching for a fruit drop to suck on so I didn’t vomit when I got out of bed.

I recently chaperoned an MUN (Model United Nations) trip to Curitiba, Brazil, in which my friend Erica and I spent four consecutive 14-hour days shepherding eleven preteens through international airports and helping them write resolutions and speeches about difficult topics such as eliminating safe havens for international terrorists. As I packed my bag the night before the trip, I tearfully pleaded with Jon, like a five year old, not to make me go. I knew it was going to be rough on my body and I let the fear that something was wrong reduce me to a sobbing mess… After a few minutes of Jon reassuring me, I pulled up my big girl pants (to quote Erica), gathered my courage, and went on the trip that I knew I had no choice but to go on. When we returned last Sunday at midnight we were happy to be home, but completely shell-shocked: all of our energy wiped clean away. All I wanted to do was take a day off of work to sleep, but it was pretty important that I go, so away I went. I had several doctors appointments scheduled for Thursday, so I decided to take the day off and set my mind to surviving until then.

Unfortunately, in that time, my fears about my declining health multiplied to the point that I was almost positive that my cancer had returned. It was time to see my doctor and tell him the bad news. The major problem was that Jon was coaching a basketball tournament in Buenos Aires and had already left, so I would have to face the doctor alone. Jon has been worried about me also, and was not happy leaving me by myself in my fearful state. But just like my MUN trip, he really had no choice but to go.

As I went to my appointment I was drowning in cancer memories. When my name was called, I trudged down the hallway, knowing the doctor would not be happy to hear my news. As soon as I told Dr. Majlis my symptoms, I could immediately detect the look of fear and panic on his face as well. (Doctors in Chile REALLY need to work on their poker face…). He wanted to hospitalize me immediately so that he could get the results of the brain scans sooner. I was not expecting to spend the night at the hospital, nor to get any life-altering news without my husband at my side. So I told the doctor that I wanted to wait till Jon came back to find out, and that I couldn’t stay overnight because my dogs had to be fed and I was the only one with keys to the house. Dr. Majlis considered me request as he examined me to find out how bad things had gotten. After a few tests he breathed a huge sigh of relief. “I don’t think it’s as bad as we feared. I think you have vertigo.” I have had a clogged left ear now for a few months, so that made sense. He called a neurologist to come by later and check me out as well. After a series of tests where she shook my head violently from side to side, she also concluded that she thought it was vertigo, rather than a tumor. She scheduled an MRI for the next week, just in case, but the urgency of the test diminished greatly. My mental state was pretty rattled and my phone had died, so Renea and Elliott came to stay at the hospital with me while I did my regular treatment. Due to their help and the thumbs up from Majlis, I breathed a little more deeply and could feel the weight of my fears alighting themselves from my shoulders.

According to the statistics for metastatic breast cancer, I’ve been living on borrowed time for the last three years, especially the last year since the cancer re-metastasized in my brain. Eighty eight percent of patients die before they reach the five-year mark, but I’ve spent the last six months pretending like I’m a medical miracle and immune to the cancer demons. Since my last treatment, I’ve become greedy. I’ve let myself think into the future, dream about the next international teaching experience, plan our travel destinations for the next year, and even consider purchasing a vacation property. And after allowing myself to think these thoughts, I realize that I’ve put myself in a precarious position. The truth is that now I need more time to be healthy. My sister is getting married in Costa Rica in January, and I have to be there to celebrate with her and Dustin, and I WILL be healthy while doing so! I WILL experience more wonderful trips with Jon, I WILL visit friends and family during the holidays, and nothing, not even cancer, is going to stop me.

So that’s me putting back on my brave face. Keep your fingers crossed that my MRI next week confirms that I have vertigo instead of a brain tumor, so I can crack my whip and send my cancer demons fleeing back into their cages where they belong. I will not let fear stop me from enjoying life. Life is precious. Hold on to it as tightly as you can.

Day 11: Part Two

March 6, 2016South Africa, TravelWrite a comment

Shamwari Game Reserve

After a long hiatus to become accustomed to real life and going to work, I`m back! I hope you like the new format and title of the blog. I tried to make it more user- friendly, but decided I need to take a class in blog appearance and marketing before it becomes totally professional looking. So you´ll have to wait for that. It´s hard to juggle your professional life, duties at home, as well as the hours you need to put in mastering social media in order to be a successful blogger. (Especially when your 11 year old students show you things about the internet and technology than you ever knew!) Hopefully now that I´ve updated the format, you will be able to just click on the category cloud in order to retroactively search blogs by category. (After I finish going in and tagging them into a category, that is…), but hopefully I can do that soon.

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A white rhino family on our first day in Shamwari

And now let me finish the South Africa trip by telling you a little about our safari. First of all, when you say that you want to go on an African safari, as I did, realize that is a really broad statement. There are so many safaris to choose from in the roughly twenty African countries that offer safaris. First you have to think about what season you are traveling in: for many reasons it is much better to travel in the dry season than the rainy one. You also have to think about what kind of animals you want to see. For example the terrain we were in is not really the home of hippos and crocodiles, although we did see some hippos. You should also consider what kind of terrain you want to see the animals in: savannah, brush, forest, etc. The last thing you need to think about is your budget. Safaris aren´t cheap, no matter how you slice it, but you can certainly do it within a budget if you want, if you don´t mind staying in tents or forgoing some of the luxuries lodges with gourmet food round the clock. Since this was a bucket list trip for me, Jon and I stayed at private game reserves and, seriously, the service and accommodations at both reserves were out of this world and highly recommended. We were also guaranteed to see fewer jeeps and people at our animal sightings because of their small size, which was nice. In conclusion, there are so many types and locations of safaris available, I recommend really spending some time researching so that you chose the safari that best meets your needs.

Jon and I made our choice based on the fact that we needed to travel in January, so we chose South Africa because most of the country would be in the summery dry season. We would be able to visit Shamwari Game Reserve, just outside of Port Elizabeth, in the south of the country. This is a private game reserve, so it has fences to keep its animals inside the property. The land that Shamwari occupies had become farmland for many generations. They took the agricultural land and let the natural fauna regrow. Over a period of twenty-five years they reintroduced animal species and returned the area to its natural state.

After Shamwari, we planned to travel to the northeastern part of the country, to a game reserve just outside of Kruger National Park, where it was supposedly the wet season. We heard Kruger had great animal sightings no matter the season, so we decided to go to Sabi Sabi, another private game reserve with no fences between it and the national park. Here we had a different experience as our lodge was right in the heart of leopard country, whereas Shamwari has a few fences and things to keep the dangerous animals away from the lodging. You do not need guides to accompany you home at Shamwari, whereas at Sabi Sabi you do, because you might encounter a leopard or lion sitting outside your hut or near your back balcony, if you go alone. Luckily, this did not happen to us and we felt quite safe all the time, except maybe on our first afternoon game drive at Shamwari, where I made a rookie mistake.

We arrived at Shamwari game reserve around two, and it was right off the highway. I couldn´t imagine that there could be lions and giraffes and crazy looking African antelope in the vast fields and hills surrounding us. The scenery didn´t really jump out to me as safari fauna. However, when we entered the park through the large electric gate that looked straight out of Jurassic Park, I realized it was for real: I was really about to embark on an African safari and lay eyes on the types of animals that I´d only seen in zoos and movies. Even now, a month after returning to Chile, I still get teary eyed thinking of it. Six months ago, I was wondering if I was going to make it till Christmas, and here I was, watching elephants graze across the river from the restaurant at our Game Lodge. It was such a magical experience!

Since we arrived midday we missed lunch so the staff showed us immediately to our “tent”. The lodge we stayed at was called Bayethe Tented Lodge, but they really shouldn´t call it a tent, because it was nothing like any tent I had ever seen before. Yes, our room had canvas siding that the staff zipped up at night during turn down service, but the building was on stilts, with a wooden floor, sitting area, giant bathroom, two showers, and our own front porch with private plunge pool. Once we realized we learned that lions were not going to pop out of the bushes and attack us and that we were only going to be visited by small animals like warthogs and impalas, we were able to completely enjoy our surroundings in the wilderness and relax in the pool. It was hot!!

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Our ranger at Shamwari was a local Afrikaner man named Jacques. At first I found him a bit gruff and sarcastic for my taste, but I soon grew accustomed to his mannerisms. You have to trust your rangers in the game parks because they are the ones driving you and four others into some pretty precarious situations. They decide how close you get to the animals and where to park to watch them, sometimes running over tree branches, going down riverbanks, and through giant mud puddles to do so. The roads in Shamwari were pretty bumpy because it was so rocky and hilly, and if you were in the elevated seat in the back you really slammed down hard on your butt. When we got up to the top of the mountain to get a view of the terrain, I realized that Shamwari´s property was a lot larger than I previously thought.

20160121_5505 — Boomslang- our first animal in Shamwari happened to be a venomous snake. Although it is shy, if it bites you it can be deadly

20160121_5598 — A rhino amidst the landscape at Shamwari. Our first of the Big Five: the rhino!

20160121_5547 — Impalas hanging out in a controlled burn area. The park sets controlled fires so that a wildfire doesn’t burn it all down

Our first big sighting happened at the end of our first game drive. The Austrian woman behind us in the jeep spotted a white speck on the horizon, and through the binoculars, I saw that it was a rhinoceros. So we sped on over and watched the animals for awhile. It turned out to be a mom with its baby. The rhinos were also joined by another juvenile, so suddenly, there we were with three giant animals munching on grass and leaves right next to us. It was amazing!

WhiteRhino — White rhino baby suckling from momma

20160121_5739 — White Rhinos are poached for their horns and left to die. Many believe their horns cure cancer and provide virility to males. Rhinos are endangered in South Africa for this reason. If the current rates of poaching continue, the rhino will be extinct in 18 years. The Save the Rhino Conservation Group has tried to reverse this trend: https://www.savetherhino.org/

Afterwards, we drove over to a small lake nearby to our first sundowner, a tradition left over from the lecherous British colonists. Sorry ol’ chaps, but the small amounts of quinine in a gin and tonic will not protect you from malaria. We parked in front of the water and Jacques got out to make sure there were no dangerous animals in the bushes. When he declared them to be safe, I went behind a bush to pee. I had not yet learned to abstain from beverages until AFTER the game drive. As I pulled my pants down I heard Jon calling me from the safari jeep. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying so I peeked around the bush. He was gesticulating wildly for me to get back in the safari vehicle. Jacques was hurriedly packing up the drinks and as I successfully stepped up into the vehicle I saw it. We had inadvertently parked right next to a hippopotamus that had previously been submerged in the lake. It was now staring right at us and did not look happy.

20160121_5796 — The hippo that we managed to park the jeep right by

Now, you probably have heard this, but hippos are the most dangerous land animal in Africa. They kill 10 times more humans than lions a year. They are fast and extremely heavy. Their jaws are so powerful they can snap a crocodile in half. Needless to say Jacques believed that we were in danger of being charged and so we backed up and sped over to the other side of the lake clearing in order to have the drinks. A British lady in the vehicle was not feeling so well and asked if we could go home instead of partaking of the gin and tonics. We agreed, so we didn’t get out of the vehicle. Instead we headed back. When we were about five minutes away, another ranger said he spotted a lioness at the same spot we had just been. We rushed back, and there she was: regal and absolutely terrifying. We watched her till sundown but I really just wanted to get out of there unharmed. It’s not often that you have an extreme brush with danger twice in one day! But this was only the beginning of our safari experience…

20160121_5815 — The lioness that walked out of the bush in the exact same spot that we stopped the second time for sundowners

20160121_5893 — The lioness stares us down as we drive by. She was a little too close for comfort…

Shamwari

Journey to South Africa

February 8, 2016South AfricaWrite a comment

Day 11: Part One- Tsitsikamma National Park

**Before we get into the real safari pics I need to pay for an update to my blog, as it has no more storage available on it. I’ve had to delete images in order to add new ones. I’m anticipating a re-haul of the site so it may take a few days, especially since school is about to start back up. Before I work on reformatting the blog though, I’ll recount for you our final morning with Pepe.**

Our honeymoon cabin at Tsitsikamma National Park. Sadly, the ocean view looked like this the whole time we were there

When we awoke this morning we opened our curtain only to find the view of the ocean totally fogged in again. I also spotted two large baboons on the grass in front of our cottage. We watched the monkeys from the safety of our room as they loped off to the next cabin. The baboons were going systematically from garbage bin to garbage bin, looking for food. There were no animal-proof devices on any of the garbage containers in order to keep them out. Our neighbors told us to be careful about locking doors and windows as they had a monkey come inside their cabin to get at food. Consequently, all of the bins in front of the cabins were tipped over and trash was spilling out of them.

20160120_4941 — This baboon family was not actually in Tsitsikamma, but hopefully it gives you an idea of how big these creatures can get and also how you might think they were cute…

20160120_5290 — Rock Hyrax outside our cabin. Tsitsikamma had a lot of these as well

Jon and I had agreed to meet Pepe at the restaurant for breakfast, though, so we stepped over the giant baboon turd that was left on our porch, we took a nice stroll along the coastal road. After we set out, however, we heard this animal call behind us in the fog and we knew the baboons were right behind us. I started to walk a little faster because I didn’t want to run into one of those creatures in the middle of the mist. I started to decide baboons weren’t so cute anymore. They are dangerous pests!

20160120_4932 — Now you can see why I wouldn’t want one of these guys following me…

When we got to the restaurant we saw that the hike to the Storm’s River Suspension Bridge, which was on our itinerary for the morning, was mostly fogged in as well. Oh well, the first bit was sunny, so we hiked up past a beautiful waterfall and through the forest. I was careful to look around for any and all baboon families that might have been hiding in the trees. We climbed up several steep stair paths to get around the rocky corner and head to the river mouth. Although the bridge was shrouded in fog and we couldn’t really see the attraction, the grey mist added a certain ambiance to the whole experience, which made the pictures very interesting indeed.

20160121_5430 — Indiana Jones and I made it safely to the restaurant without being eaten by baboons

20160121_5474 — The suspension Bridge over Storms River Mouth

20160121_5472 — Our last photo with Pepe. She was such a great guide!!

20160121_5432 — The fog’s trying to burn off, but still no view of the ocean. Alas we had to leave

On our equally steep hike back, we rounded a corner to find two other tourists wielding sticks and a giant male baboon sitting on a picnic table and rooting through the garbage. Somehow we managed to run the monkey off, but I spotted his wife nearby and she was on her way to take his place near the garbage can. The baboons held us hostage for about 15 minutes when we finally decided to move quietly and quickly around her. It was then that I really decided I didn’t like baboons. They are scary!! On our way out of the park and onto our first game reserve, Pepe went to the headquarters to complain about the bin/baboon problem in the park. The park rangers claimed that they didn’t have a problem with bins; they had a baboon problem because people were feeding the monkeys. Well, after seeing these baboons, we could tell right away that wasn’t the problem. No one in their right mind would feed those animals. Maybe they would throw them something off a bbq grill to get them to go away, but that’s about it. The real problem, from what we could tell was that the trash had no baboon proof lids so the monkeys had gotten used to invading the cottage areas and camping sights for food, forcing the tourists to stay inside for fear of getting into a fight with a monkey. Pepe explained what some of the other parks were doing to baboon-proof the bins and they actually listened. Who knows whether they will actually do anything about it, though. Until Tsitsikamma fixes their bin problem, I would imagine they will see a lack of tourists in their park, even if it is supposed to be very beautiful. Regardless, we left Tsitsikamma behind and headed to Port Elizabeth in order to go to our first of the two game reserves, Shamwari.

Journey to South Africa

February 5, 2016South Africa, Travel3 Comments

Day Ten: Birds and Monkeys!

This was my absolute favorite day of the trip so far. This morning we continued along the Garden Route on our way to Tsitsikamma National Park. First, however, we had some stops planned: two spectacular animal sanctuaries where birds and monkeys who were rescued from dangerous or unhealthy situations can live again in their natural environments. The parks feed them but only because the animals are used to humans feeding them and wouldn’t be able to survive on their own in the wild. They do not have cages and roam freely.

20160120_4709 — So close to the birds at Birds of Eden

The first sanctuary was called Birds of Eden, which is the world’s largest free flying aviary. It covers over two hectares and the netting is so high you can barely see it. Basically, although I don’t really know how much a hectare is, the birds have a lot of room to fly around. It was absolutely spectacular. Whoever came up with the idea of putting all of the world’s most stunning bird species together in this giant aviary is a genius! I basically walked around the walkways for several hours with my mouth wide open.

It was hard to move quickly through the park because you didn’t want to miss one of the exotic and unusual birds sitting on the railing, hiding in the bushes, or perched directly above your head on a branch. We were so close to so many rare birds eating seeds off the birdfeeders near the path and frolicking around on the forest floor.

20160120_4653 — Colorful parrot (I can’t find the guidebook to help me identify these… sigh!)

20160120_4541 — Knysna turaco- loved his mohawk

I had never really taken much notice in birds, but after our trip to the Pantanal two years ago, I really gained an appreciation for their beautiful colors and sounds. A highlight for me at the aviary happened as I was walking around a pathway in the forest all by myself. Jon had gone on to photograph something or other. A giant blue heron, taller than me, passed me going around the corner, strutting down the path. I gasped at his size and beauty and how close he was to me. He was amazing! I loved my visit to Birds of Eden, and even though it wasn’t the wild, it really felt like it because the birds were in their natural habitat enjoying their lives.

20160120_4739 — The Blue Heron that walked by me

20160120_4777 — Scarlet Ibis- they were so red!

20160120_4871 — I can’t remember the name of these ducks, but they were really pretty

We also had planned to visit the monkey sanctuary, owned by the same people as the aviary. However, we really needed to take a break first (Animal Overload) so we headed to a small winery nearby for lunch. South Africa has over 350 wineries in total so there always seems to be a convenient location of one nearby… Bramon Wine Estate was interesting because they serve a bunch of different small tapas type dishes and we chose some good ones including the fig, goat cheese, and walnut salad, as well as the sweet and sticky chicken wings, and the melted brie cheese in phylo dough. Although we didn’t quite love their “award winning” Chenin Blanc, in fact, we had the server come back out because we thought the bottle had gone bad… the food was yummy and the atmosphere was great. Each picnic table is set amongst its own row of vines so you get a sense of seclusion.

After lunch we geared up to see some monkeys. Although I didn’t really care for the name of the monkey sanctuary, Monkeyland, because it sounds a bit like a theme park, I really did love my visit there as well. The beginning was a little frightening though. It took a while for us to get used to being close to all those monkeys. In order to get to the furry creatures, you have to walk through several different fences and gates because they don’t want the monkeys escaping. At the café inside the gates, I noticed no one was sitting outside, and then I also noticed the giant sign that said “Beware of monkeys stealing food.” Well, we waited for our guide outside the café with another family of tourists from Scandinavia and watched the scene around us. Suddenly we heard this loud squealing and all the monkeys swung themselves over to the corner of the picnic area where a monkey had successfully stolen a bag of potato chips from a little girl and was now attempting to flee back into the forest with the chips and what seemed like all the monkeys in the sanctuary were in hot pursuit.

20160120_5157 — Pretty sure this gibbon, named Atlas, was the potato chip thief

The scene was comical. I was holding onto my water bottle and I spied a vervet monkey eyeing the bottle. He scampered up to me and I could tell from the look in his eye what he was going to do. I grabbed onto the bottle tightly with both hands and closed my eyes. The monkey jumped up on me and tried to pry the bottle away. The tourists next to me screamed and jumped away. I managed to hold onto the bottle, but quickly put it, along with any shiny objects on my person, in Jon’s camera bag. I kept waiting for the monkeys to steal my hat or my neighbor’s Iphone 6, but luckily they didn’t.

20160120_4980 — Spectacled Monkey- just look at those eyes!

20160120_5032 — Squirrel Monkey- luckily I have my guide book to help me label these correctly

The guide finally opened the last swinging gate to let us into the sanctuary and it was a little calmer inside the forest. But the monkeys were everywhere! There were lemurs, and gibbons, and spectacled monkeys. Cappucins, vervets, and Howler monkeys too, all living together and playing in the trees and on the ground. It was a photographer’s paradise. Lemurs only live in Madagascar and are almost extinct, but it seemed like Monkeyland had successfully saved enough lemurs and helped them breed successfully to repopulate the whole island of Madagascar. Unfortunately, the habitat of the lemurs is quickly diminishing and they will soon probably go extinct.

20160120_5066 — Ring Tailed Lemur- I love how they stare you down

20160120_5270 — Black and White Lemur- very rare

20160120_5126 — Ring Tailed Lemur: It would be such a shame if this animal went extinct

The visit lasted about an hour, which was plenty of time to be right next to all the monkeys you ever wanted to see (TRUST ME!). Towards the end of the tour, we had to cross a tall suspension bridge over a canopy of trees and when we got to the end of the bridge we saw some families of vervet monkeys with tiny babies. This one baby monkey was walking along with a group of monkeys when suddenly another monkey reached out and grabbed the baby. She started squeezing it very tightly, so at first we just thought it was the mother trying to hug her baby. After about 30 seconds though, the baby started shrieking and looking like it was in pain. It seemed as though the female monkey was trying to strangle it to death. Pepe and I frantically tried to get the guide’s attention because the behavior did not seem normal. The guide, however, did not hear us. The baby tried to get away but the female monkey grabbed its tail and started pulling on it so that it couldn’t run anywhere. Luckily, the baby broke free and ran to its actual mother. The guide finally made his way back and explained that the other female couldn’t have babies so was trying to kidnap this one. It was crazy! And I decided it was time for me to leave Monkeyland.

20160120_5236 — Howler Monkey contemplating his next move

20160120_5263 — Now those are some serious blue balls

20160120_5286 — Baby getting squeezed. You can see why Pepe and I were concerned

20160120_4986 — Vervet Monkeys- mother and child

We headed on down the Garden Route to Tsitsikamma National Park, which is supposedly a beautiful park with amazing views of the ocean, the cliffs nearby, and hikes through the forest. It’s Pepe’s favorite stop on the route. We were staying in the Honeymoon cabin, which was very large and right next to the ocean. Unfortunately, though, it was so foggy the whole time we stayed at Tsitsikamma that we never got to see the view of the water from our cabin. We did, however, see a whole lot of baboons roaming around which made us lock the doors so they wouldn’t be able to get in. The park amazingly also had a steak restaurant on its property, so the three of us ate a great dinner by the light of the moonlight and took some pictures of the patch of coastline that we could actually see. It was a great day and as the sound of the waves lulled me to sleep, visions of birds and monkeys danced in my head.

Birds of Eden Monkeyland

Journey to South Africa

January 31, 2016South Africa, Travel, UncategorizedWrite a comment

Day Nine: Our Anniversary in Knysna

Today we began our drive on the Garden Route. I had read about how scenic this drive was, but mistakenly thought it was famous for all the flowers along the route. Actually it´s called the Garden Route because it´s so green. Along with beaches, there are coastal lagoons, lakes, forests and hills. It is quite beautiful. There are also lots of outdoor sports available in different spots along the route. We first went up one of the hills near Wilderness to see the paragliders jump down to the beach. Unfortunately the fog was so thick that you couldn´t see anything from that side of the hill to the ocean so they weren´t jumping yet and it didn’t look like they’d be able to anytime soon.

20160119_5336 — We saw some successful para gliders later on but you can tell how bad the fog was

Luckily there was a clear view on the other side of the hill so we were able to see the Map of Africa Viewpoint, a forested area that is surrounded by water and shaped just like the southern coast of Africa. Check it out below and tell me if you think it looks like the map:

It was still misty over the ocean when we got to Knysna (pronounced Nice-na). The town is along both sides of a big lagoon, but only the eastern side is populated all the way out to the sea. This area close to the ocean where the two sides of the lagoon almost touch is called the Knysna Heads. There is just a small path for boats to enter and exit through.

20160119_5347 — The fog dissipates from the Knysna Heads

20160119_5344 — Look how clear the water in the lagoon is

We had a delicious lunch at the East Head Café complete with homemade strawberry daiquiris made from real strawberries, not the mix that is typically used. I also finally got to taste a Cape Malay curry with chicken, onions, sweet potatoes, bananas, peppers, tomatoes, and broccoli. This kind of cooking is typical of what is known as Cape Malay cuisine, which takes its influence from the Spice Islands. When Malaysia and Indonesia were under the control of the Dutch East India Company settlers brought the spices such as cinnamon, curry, coriander, with them when they came to South Africa. Consequently, the food and the people that moved to the Cape were dubbed Cape Malay. They moved to the Bo-Kaap neighborhood in Cape Town and built these small, colorful homes on a hill. No home is the same color, which I find amazing. During apartheid these people fell under the second class racial system called Coloured because they were a mixture of Malay and Dutch colonial blood. They weren´t considered as lowly as the native Africans, but they still were definitely treated as second class citizens compared to the whites.

12522916_10153898270309993_3066622325862672488_n — Delicious lunch at East Head Cafe looking out at the beautiful view

20160113_3082 — Bo-Kaap (Cape Malay) neighborhood back in Cape Town

Regardless I was excited to try the curry since we didn´t have enough time for our Cape Malay cooking class back in Cape Town. During our lunch overlooking the Knysna straight, the fog lifted before our very eyes so we were able to admire the view of the other side of the lake in the sunshine. After lunch we headed up the East Head in order to see the view of the two heads from up high. There were lots of beautiful homes up there as well as viewing platforms, and the sight from every angle was stupendous.We also saw the bit of land jutting out into the lagoon called Leisure Island, which was where we were staying.

20160119_5371 — View of the East Head from up top

20160119_5383 — Great effect with the fisheye lens of the Two Heads

20160119_5352 — Leisure Isle with the harbor behind it. You can see our guest house in this pic. It had a great view back to the heads

We headed back to our hotel to check in and rest before our sunset cruise along the lake onboard the old-fashioned paddlewheel boat, the John Benn. After spending barely any time in our large and impressive room, we arrived at the port early because I was hoping there would be some gift shops there. We hadn´t gotten much time to do any souvenir shopping and I was worried that we wouldn´t in the future. Unfortunately, the shops weren´t exactly what we were looking for and Jon was annoyed that we had left Leisure Isle in order to come early and shop. We got in a bit of a kerfuffle over it. Figures that the only time we were irritated with each other was on our anniversary. Haha! As Jon was pouting outside, I went into a boutique that had women´s clothes and scarves and signs everywhere that said “No Grumpy Husbands Allowed”. I laughed out loud and went back outside to get my grumpy husband to pay for a scarf since he had the wallet. He was none too pleased.

The one benefit of our promptness was that we were second in line to get a good seat on the boat so we could get good pictures of the lagoon. Unfortunately the cruise wasn´t as romantic as we hoped. The boat was very touristy and lots of people came onboard. After getting such exclusive and personal treatment during the other activities on the trip, we didn´t enjoy being with the masses for the sunset. (Yes, we became spoiled on our trip…) Another impediment to our enjoyment of the ride was this obnoxious group near us who insisted on taking selfies from the boat railing at every possible opportunity. So instead of gazing lovingly into each other´s eyes on our second anniversary as we floated around the water, I was transfixed by watching this girl pose for pictures every other second. She even got many strangers to pose multiple times with her, after plumping up her hair and adjusting her sunglasses, that is. It was absolutely ridiculous! I can just picture that girl five years from now saying, “Remember that amazing time on the Knysna lagoon a few years ago? I can´t quite remember the people in the pictures with me, but that’s probably because I don´t actually know them and will never see them again…” Anyhoo, the cruise lasted about an hour and we were lucky to watch a kayak race near the harbor, which was pretty entertaining. I definitely would not have been able to hang. Sunset was quite nice as well, once the annoying girl finally stopped taking glamor shots of herself, and I could see the sun.

20160119_5404 — Kayak race during our sunset cruise

20160119_5422 — Sunset from the John Benn boat

Dinner was reserved for us at 34 Degrees South on the waterfront, which was good, but not a romantic type of anniversary dinner place. We ordered the famous Knysna oysters, which Jon didn´t really like again because they were so big. No more oysters on this trip! Jon ordered the seafood jambalaya (which tasted nothing like what he was expecting.. go figure!) Luckily I had ordered a flat crust pizza, which we both devoured along with a delicious Chenin Blanc. Unfortunately after my cocktails on the boat and the wine with dinner I was getting a little tipsy. I decided to suggest that we start a new tradition where we surprise each other with an anniversary present based on the traditional gifts for each anniversary. The first year you´re supposed to get paper, so that could be a card or stationary or a ticket to somewhere… whatever. I couldn´t remember what the second anniversary was supposed to be, so I just gave the example of paper. Jon asked incredulously, “Why would I get you something with paper?”

“Because it´s supposed to be cute and romantic for our anniversary. Plus we never surprise each other with anything,” I replied.

“I don´t really like surprises. And I don’t really understand the plan. So you want me to buy you toilet paper or a paper bag to make you feel that our anniversary is special?” he said while shrugging his shoulders. I could tell he was making fun of my suggestion.

Since my idea was NOT met with positivity by my husband, I started to get upset, as one tends to do after too many glasses of wine. The conversation grew a little out of control and veered into sensitive topics. Not a good choice when trying to enjoy an anniversary dinner. When Pepe arrived I was crying and I had to quickly dry my eyes and pretend to be happy so she wouldn´t feel too awkward, but I’m pretty sure she could sense the tension. Oops! No worries, we didn’t stay mad long- we made up in the morning. So since I didn´t express my gratitude and love for my husband properly on our anniversary, my message to him is this:

Jon- Thank you so much for standing by me and for dealing with life´s challenges so patiently. I know we´ve had our hard times, and that we’ve both been changed forever. I cherish all of our amazing experiences together, especially this trip…. Please don’t get me anything made of paper… I love you! TOO

20160119_5319 — No this is not a Chinese peace sign. This is for anniversary #2 🙂

Anniversary Garden Route Knysna South Africa

Journey to South Africa

January 29, 2016South Africa, Travel, UncategorizedWrite a comment

Day Eight: Meerkat Adventures and Swartberg Pass

As the alarm went off this morning at 4 AM I thought to myself, I hope these meerkats are worth waking up at this ungodly hour…. We drove to the meeting point in the dark and followed a small train of cars with their lights through a plot of farmland. Meerkat Adventures is an interesting concept. This farmer´s land is apparently the only place in the world where you are almost guaranteed to watch the animals in their natural habitat. The business concept is pretty simple. Tourists come and sit around a meerkat burrow hoping to see the family emerge at sunrise while they warm up for the day. However, there are a few problems to that scenario: 1) there are few meerkat families on the property and only one used to the presence of humans 2) There are hundreds of burrows that they can spend the night in.

20160117_4123 — Meerkats emerging from their hole

Meerkat Adventures solves this problem by tracking the animals in the evening to see what burrow they go in to spend the night. While in the burrow they sleep and they don´t awake until the sun comes out in the morning. They need the sun´s warmth in order to be able to move around and eat. After the meerkats are done warming up (this takes about 15 minutes) then they head off into the grass and won´t be seen again because they are so small, shy, and well-camoflaged.

We arrived at the field in time to see a beautiful sunrise while we had our tea and coffee and around 5:30 AM we marched to the burrow where our guide thought he had seen the meerkats enter the night before. The ten of us pulled out our lawn chairs that we were given and set them around the burrow. The group might have to sit there for a long time for the meerkats to come out, or, even more embarrassing, the tourists could all be sitting around the wrong hole. In that case, the other assistants go running around the field trying to spot the meerkats. Well, the sun had been up for about 30 minutes and we still hadn’t seen anything, so our guide started running like a crazy person to try and find the animals. He instructed us to stay put. About five minutes later one meerkat emerged from the burrow and stood on his tippy-toes pointing his stomach towards the sun. After a few minutes, another emerged from the hole, then another, then another. Meerkats are very shy animals but apparently this family is used to hearing human voices so we were allowed to talk. We were not, however, allowed to make fast movements because this might alarm them and cause them to hide.

The highlight of the event was when the baby meerkat came out and started to play around with the others. He was so cute!!!

20160117_4237 — Baby Meerkat is still sleepy

20160117_4205 — Baby meerkat showing some love

I also loved how all the animals stood in a line and stuck their stomachs out to greet the sun, kind of like the Care Bear Stare. They don´t call them sun worshippers for nothing! The whole event lasted about 20 minutes and then the meerkats disappeared into the brush. Even with all that hassle, though, I definitely thought it was worth it. We returned to the hotel and Jon and I immediately went back to sleep for a few hours.

When we woke up again, Pepe took us on a drive through the Swartberg Pass, a winding through the mountains that is considered an engineering marvel. The drive was pretty intense and I´m glad I wasn´t driving.

20160118_3872 — The pass is an engineering marvel

20160118_3875 — Top of Swartberg Pas. I had trouble perching myself on this rock which is why we’re laughing.. The wind was blowing my bandana too. Good times

20160118_3882 — On another lookout on the pass

We stopped in the cute town of Prins Albert for lunch at the historic Victoria hotel. We had some homemade ginger beer and tapas and headed on our way back to Oudtshoorn through a different pass and stopped at a beautiful waterfall on the way back called Rust en Vrede. We had to take a little path up the mountain a bit and found a great system of natural pools created by the waterfall. We cooled off in the water (super COLD) and basked in the sunlight on the rocks list before heading back to the hotel.

20160118_3887 — On the way to the waterfall

12417718_10153837464970883_2812615575289159696_n — Amazing Waterfall: South Africa is so beautiful

We capped off our day with a great meal at the best restaurant in Oudtshoorn, (according to Lonely Planet…) Jemima´s. Even though we were a little sick of eating rich food all the time, Jon loved his mussels in creamy white wine and garlic sauce and I enjoyed my steak. It was a delightful meal.

Meerkats South Africa Swartberg Pass

Journey to South Africa

January 28, 2016South Africa, Travel1 Comment

Day Seven: Ostriches and One Amazing Rainbow

Luckily I was feeling better the next morning for our four-hour drive from Mosaic to the Little Karoo where we were going to experience meerkats in their natural environment. The Little Karoo is known for being very hot and very dry. We drove inland from Hermanus to Oudtshoorn (pronounced OatsHorn). No matter how many times people explained to me how to correctly pronounce the name of the town, every time I looked at the spelling of the word I couldn´t get it straight. Afrikaans is one tricky language!

The road we took to go inland was called Route 62, modeled after Route 66 in the United States. We stopped for lunch along the way at an American style diner that had terrifically decadent milkshakes and decent burgers. Probably not what I should have been eating following a day of severe stomach problems, but oh well- the sacrifices we make for food…

12573152_10153834600110883_4168757788051663034_n — A mountain pass on the way to Oudtshoorn

12472247_10153837462680883_4986538526551655737_n — Memorabilia in front of the American diner on Route 62

12509262_10153837462435883_6104339878954811826_n — The diner is known for it’s milk shakes. This chocolate one has so many anti-oxidants that its gotta be good for you!

We arrived in Oudtshoorn around 4 where the afternoon sun was sweltering. The outside temperature was roughly 40 degrees, according to Pepe´s car. It was hot! The ostriches were on a farm so they weren´t running wild, but the visit was interesting none-the-less. When ostrich feathers were all the rage adorning women´s hats during the Victorian Age, the town of Oudtshoorn was quite something. With the change in fashion after WWI, though, the town almost died out. It´s reviving now due to it´s location as the tourist hub in the Karoo.

Ostriches are quite interesting to watch. They´re not very smart and they will eat until they are so full they will die from gluttony. If they didn´t live in a desert, they would not survive long. After they eat they also immediately run their teeth along the metal fences in order to brush them. Another thing I found interesting was how fast the ostriches were: they can run 80 km/hr. Normally the farm lets you ride the ostriches and race them against each other but today we couldn´t because it was so hot. The government could have arrested us for animal cruelty if they caught us. So, instead, we fed the ostriches and stood on their eggs to prove how indestructible they are. And the eggs are huge- one ostrich egg is equivalent to 24 regular chicken eggs. That´s one LARGE omelette! Later we headed to the souvenir shop to purchase an ostrich leather wallet and these carved ostrich eggs we´d been eyeing since arriving in Africa. I´m actually not a fan of ostrich leather because it has all these little bumps on it where they plucked the feathers off the animals. A little tip for all you fashionistas out there: to find out if ostrich leather is real or fake, run your hand up and down the leather. One way the leather should feel smooth and the other way your hand should catch on the bumps where the feathers used to be.

20160117_3930 — Ostrich Feathers are so beautiful

After our ostrich experience we headed to our hotel, the Surval Olive Estate just outside town down a dirt road. The estate was very nice and had a great view of verdant orchards along with the impressive Swarthberg Mountains in the background. There is a lot of bird life there so Jon and I decided to take a walk on their grounds as the sun was setting. As we were photographing the many birds living in the trees and bushes surrounding the little lake below our hotel, a dark storm cloud appeared over the mountains. However, the foreground was still bathed in sunlight. It starting raining in the mountains and a rainbow soon appeared. It was a partial rainbow, but it was very wide and rose straight into the sky. As the sun began to set, the rainbow glowed brighter and brighter. Our evening walk through the olive estate was fantastic, because everywhere we went that rainbow punctuated the rain clouds with color. It was magical! (And Jon took a lot of photos, of course.) We had a quick dinner at the restaurant and headed straight to bed since we had to wake up early the next morning.