Bright lights, big city, bad people!

Our time of limbo in South Africa has been an adventure all of its own.  We arrived back in South Africa on the 23 January and took up residence in Pretoria which lasted all of 50 days.  The first few weeks we spent enjoying the luxuries of city life, a private bedroom with a double bed, a bath with running water, a cupboard to unpack our clothes into, shops close by, slabs of chocolate and delicious home cooked meals.  But with those luxuries of the big bad city comes the big bad people. 

Barry left for Uganda as planned on the 2^nd March and right away I felt like a part of my soul was gone.  Considering that we have hardly been apart in the 7 years of our relationship, I took it quite well I think, until my boat was rocked, my patience was tested, my faith in the universe shook and my friendship, with whom I assumed was my good friend, failed dismally. 

So here is the long and the short of it, and of course without naming names, but I know the people involved read our blog and so know who they are. 

 

On the 16^th March, Baz had been in Uganda for only two weeks, always worried about Joshua and I, missing us terribly while in a strange country far away from all that he knows and loves.  And BAM life as he knew it was all shot to hell!

Early hours on this day in March I was accused by an apparent prominent lawyer and her family, situated in Johannesburg, of being her younger brother’s drug dealer.  I endured abusive phone calls and sms’, hysterical screaming from a person who is apparently this prominent lawyer (who should in my books behave in a more professional manner) threatening me with the police and child welfare.  I was instructed to leave the property that I was renting a room at, at the time.  I was told that I was a disgusting mother and that my children deserve better. I was also told that this particular family had read my Facebook wall and my blog and that they ‘know what kind of person I am’.  

LAUGH OUT LOUD, what kind of person I am?  Hmmmmm, considering that this is the only family on this planet that doesn’t like me out of the thousands of people whose paths have crossed with me in my lifetime, I would say then that YOUR OPINION OF ME DOESN’T COUNT.

Why was I accused of that?  Because I smoke marijuana.  Yes, there you have it.  I smoke marijuana!  Do I smoke it every day? No.  Do I sell marijuana?  No.  Do I go and buy marijuana from the local guy on the street corner like a junkie?  No.  Do my children go hungry?  are they abused in any way, do my children think or love me any less? No.

I smoke marijuana because I choose an alternative lifestyle, I choose NOT to take anti-depressants, I choose to make use of alternative medicines instead of taking those harmful drugs prescribed by doctors.  I choose not to educate my son in accordance with that bullshit that is taught by the corrupt school teachers of today. I choose to stay away from anything to do with politics, I choose a life of travel with my life partner and my child because we choose not to conform to the norms of society.  And my hairstyle of choice… dreadlocks. 

 

Hmmmm… could that be the reason why this family chose me as their scapegoat instead of actually taking their own son to task and ensuring that he takes responsibility for the choices that he makes in life.  Ensuring that the police were involved in the so called 'bust', instead of trying to entrap me into something that, I actually had no involvement with.  Instead of buying and lying their way through life?  What kind of future does this boy have?  The mightier you are the harder you fall, so they say.  So let the mighty then fall hard.

Wow, how sad that one family, just one family can be that shallow and overlook the fact that their son is actually the drug dealer and addict.  How sad that one family believes that they have a right to try and destroy good people with accusations when they in fact are the ones who are the very example of those who are destructive and ooze evil into society.  How sad that this family believes that their son is innocent and everyone around him are the ones to blame for his drug soaked lifestyle.  Phew!

Anyhow, so since the 16^th March, Joshua and I have been doing the best we can with the little that we have had and boy have we done real well.  We are super blessed to have some very special people in our lives, people who came forward and opened up their homes to us. Friends, who actually live up to the status of being our friends.  Friends who took us in, offered us support, advice and always put Joshua’s welfare first!  Real special people who have a real special place in my heart.

Joshua and I have stayed in five different homes in the last 8 weeks!! Not an easy way to live as every home has their own ways which are not our ways. But yet they made space when they didn’t have any and they did so without judgement.  Travelling with our backpacks, camping mattresses, a sleeping bag and a pillow, we backpacked like true champs.

I am so grateful that Joshua is the free spirited boy that he is, because 99% of today’s children would not have survived this adventure the way that he has.  Always smiling, always doing his bit to make this adventure exciting and happy.  Always taking time out of his busy day to put his arms around my neck and squeeze me so tight while reassuring me that “everything will be alright Mamma”  What a boy he is.

 

The saddest thing for Joshua was coming to learn the truth about his 'friend', this youngster, who was the reason why we went from being safe and settled while Dad is up Africa, to being home-less, unsettled and real sad at times.  It’s a sad lesson to learn at the age of 5, but he now has a very good understanding that he is NOT to trust anyone, not even his friends because it’s usually those closest to you that will hurt you real bad and let you down in life.  Our boy is now so much wiser.

So here we are, our last few days in Jozi.  We are in a good place, we are packing, shopping, packing and shopping some more.  Joshua and I are extremely excited to be joining Barry in Uganda soon.  Another awesome adventure is about to begin.  

Grateful, to be showing the middle finger to those who have been the cause of some heart-wrenching moments during the last few weeks.  Sad, to be saying farewell to those that we love and miss the most while we travel.  Super excited to be reunited with Barry again.

Today I say thank you to those of you who have opened your homes to Joshua and I, for one night, a weekend and up to two weeks.  Thank you to those of you who have taken us out for a meal and reassured us that all will be good.  Thank you to those of you who have bought us a few groceries and ensured that we have been fed and taken care of.  My list of thanks is endless. 

My most important thanks go out to Barry who is thousands of km’s away and has supported me and believed in me every step of the way.  Who has continued to love me unconditionally and who has motivated me to just keep on going.  This man, who has sacrificed so much for the greater good of his family. 

And me… I am stronger, more spiritual and I am even more convinced that our choice in our alternative lifestyle is the right way and the only way!  People will befriend you and they will stab you in the back whilst acting in a cowardly manner.  Those people are the very kind that I dismiss out of my life without hesitation.  I see that we are surrounded by nasty and destructive people.  Those people have no space in my life.  Ever!

I have always believed in KARMA and phew, I must admit, I don’t feel an inch of sympathy for those who have karma knocking on their doors, if not already, then soon.  The karma bus is on route and I am the driver ;-)

Bring on our new adventure.  Time to leave the bright lights of the big bad city behind.  Time to go where we are always happy. Time to continue our African dream xx

Remember to educate yourself before you accuse someone.  It will save you from and those around you from a whole lot of hurt.  Don't be a coward, if you want to know then simply ask.  Don't go and spread nasty rumors because at the end of it all, it is you who is un-liked, not trusted and your life will be filled with loneliness and bitterness.  

Peace, love and happiness always!

Blu

Going from one third world country to another..

Going from one third world country to another was very exciting, I couldn't wait to experience the differences and man are they different.

At the end of an epic 8 week sail from Grenada to Colombia we found ourselves in the historical city of Cartagena.

Cartagena reminds me a little of Durban with there massively tall hotels lining the beach front and on the other side of the city the common folk.
In between the tourist hub of there main beaches and the common folk is s place older than the discovery of south africa.

The old city with its massive coral wall around it, cannon placements, guard posts, dungeons and oozing with a colourful and rich history.
I can't remember dates off hand but I do remember reading a plaque in the wall with a date present the 1820 settlers.
The city of Cartagena was a thriving port of trade before South Africa was even explored

We spent 5 weeks anchored opposite the Colombian navy just outside the old city over the bridge from Getsamani the tourist hub of Cartagena

We arrived just before Christmas from a journey much void of people and cars. Our arrival to the bright lights big city was a bit of a culture shock.
Our anchorage was on the edge of the main traffic route from one side to the other. Like clockwork daily the water taxis would pass in the morning and return in the evening. Breakfast and coffee needed to be made before the manic rocking caused by the wake of the speeding taxis.

At night the city came alive music, parties and fireworks everywhere all night. There were nights we would sit on the front of the cat and enjoy live concerts in a part if the old city, right in front of us or chill at the back with a party mix of expensive power boats cruising past with there own private parties on board, the music was never ending.

The people of Cartagena are awesome as are the majority of Colombians. Cartagena is a tourist city and has its tourist issues, its hard to get a good deal as a tourist.

We arrived in Cartagena with just over 100usd and although the dollar is fairly strong our time in Cartagena become a little stressful. It was our plan to run a holiday program for all the kids that were expected to arrive, but as with sailing you can't rely on anything until it happens.
As it happened the expected boats twelve in total never arrived. I did however get to clean a couple of boats and this allowed us a simple and enjoyable Christmas dinner.

New year saw the combination of a month worth of fireworks in one night an what a spectacular event it was. I have never seen so many fireworks all over the place as I did that night. Phenomenal!

Our time in Colombia was drawing to a close and although there was much we wanted to do our constraints of the CoP (Colombian peso) still allowed us to immerse ourselves in the daily lives of the common Colombian. We interacted, ate and moved in the amazing street life of Colombia Cartagena.

Baz

Our time in South America was quickly drawing to a close...

Our time in South America was quickly drawing to a close. We had two days left in Colombia, and then we are off to Venezuela Caracas and Simon Bolivar international airport to start our journey back to South Africa.

But before we leave we need to collect a parcel that was posted to us ten days earlier from the USA.
Friday afternoon I find the post office only to be told it has not arrived and I should head to dispatch.
On foot with vague directions I'm off to find dispatch, before closing time.
With the clock tuning away I find dispatch and chat to the man in charge. Going through the tracking process I find out it’s not in Cartagena and will only arrive Monday morning 6am we depart Sunday 7am. No good now what?
No worries says man in charge the parcel is in Santa Marta three hour bus ride from here I can collect from there tomorrow before 1.

Panic sets in my mind starts working over time, I dawdle back to the boat, what to do? What to do?
By the time I have walked across town and paddled our kayak back to the boat I have decided the only thing to do is go find this parcel tomorrow.

The bus terminal or rather "Terminal de Transported" is 12 km away. I had been there a few days earlier and it had taken me just over 2 hours to walk.
At 4am the next morning, Saturday I leave the boat paddle to the main land and start my mission.
My budget was enough for return ticket and a cab ride.
My plan of action, take first bus to Santa Marta find parcel take last bus home.

Remembering our bus leaves at 8am tomorrow for Venezuela.

Being on a boat of any size it’s hard to stay walking fit and after the last few days of walking already my body was not very impressed, lucky it was still del and cool and I reached the terminal just on 6am an caught the first bus out arriving in Santa Marta at 09h30. It was time to get going.
In my confused state the day before I never got the address of the dispatch office. I had however 5 addresses and hoped one was the right one.

I closed my eyes picked an address found a taxi and off. No worries I have 3 hours.
The first address was wrong but the kind assistant googled my tracking number and gave me the correct one.

Awesome still on time. With half directions I'm off up the road, left here right there ..... Or was it?
Ahhh no worries see the sign. Shoo! Made it.
It looks small for a dispatch haha its only for receiving, the dispatch of course is the other side of town and its 11h30, next joke! The office closes at 12.

I only have cash left for the by ride home!!!!
So close yet so far.

No worries I'll make a plan, sigh!
Just then a courier from the post office arrives to collect.
A short chat in my broken Spanish and my bus ride money in his hand and off we go to dispatch.
Up until this point u sort if knew were in town I was in conjunction with the "Terminal de transported"
Remember I need to get home before dark the last bus and now I need to walk to the station.

The Colombian Michael Schumacher took off and by the third turn down a back road I was lost.
Arriving at dispatch in the industrial area of town the doors were closed. I knock on the front door it was locked no answer.
I've just gambled everything to get here and now?
I chase around the back of the building and find an open door. Haha
No one is leaving until I get my parcel.
Vacant stares follow my every move as I explain in a mixture of Spanish, English and 'funnigalo' with a few threatening Zulu words thrown in for effect.

Realizing no one was going home until this crazy gringo leaves, a sparkle of activities insures and a number of staff disappear to different corners.
A few moments later a parcel appears, I hand over my passport as proof of identification.
"Ah Sud Afrik??
Yes no gringo I reply.
The room breaks out in laughter, I'm no gringo I'm OK I'm cool I'm an African.
5 minutes later after strong words of caution about the dangers of this particular area I'm outside parcel in backpack ready to go home.
Home? Point! Hmmm!

You know those silly comedies like " Dude where is my car"? That very lost stoner look?
Well here I was in the industrial area of Santa Marta, my tablet, the only form of Map and communication I have is off as the battery is low, and "Dude I'm lost"
I have no idea where I am and all I know is in what direction south is.
The last bit of my battery allowed me to check Google maps, showed me where I am and where the terminal is. I got to street numbers; this was where I was heading.

Well this is easy I'll head east counting the street numbers backward until I reach Calle 15, sweet I'm on Called 27.
Woohoo what a pro I chuckle to myself, off I go with a bounce in my step, down the main road I'm on, I'll take the next left.
26; 25; 29 I stop, look, reverse back to the last road 25, no other roads? No. Carry on 29, no worries check the next road. 32 hmmm.
I scratch my head a little perplexed. "No worries" I say. Time is short, I'll hook a right here, jog down to the next intersection ill pick up the numbers again.

One intersection two intersection third intersection hmm! I hang right, no I'm moving the wrong way I take next left - I am so lost

A note on being lost -
Personally I don't mind being lost, I have spent many of my journeys to a destination lost. But today time is not on my side and when working with time there is no time to be lost.

Doing as any good guide would do in my situation; I keep going hoping to spot something I recognize.

You will remember earlier I gave my bus money to the courier driver, so what's my stress if I can't get home anyway? You may be asking?

Well in the parcel is a laptop and in the laptop are some US dollars.
I was aware of this and out I desperation I spent my cash in the belief that there would be enough in the laptop.

So while I'm jogging through the myriad of streets looking for a landmark I come across a double lane road. Now for someone lost in the wilderness this would be like finding a river.
Time to reassess my position and change my USD into CoP (Colombian peso)
In Colombia there is no black market (well there is but you need to know the know) being in the industrial area there are no banks no bureau de change or bureau de cambia.
I stop a taxi and ask if he will accept USD. No no he says shaking his head I keep moving and come across a casino an restaurant, "cambia deniro" I ask showing the USD. No no he says. In my broken Spanish I understand he is directing me to a money exchange. I take a jog up the road in the direction he is pointing. Two blocks later I come across an Exito, a chain store like picknpay in SA or Wall Mart, Colombian style. They have a money exchange.
That was easy.

Western union is closed for lunch but there is another one, cool I stand in line.
At the counter the pretty lady shakes her head "no cambia" Western union.
No!! I cry slipping into a chair they are closed for lunch my bus departs 2:30pm lunch finishes at 2.
OK no time to loose, where am I where is the terminal de transporte?
I find a plug point plug in my tablet; I have enough time to check my location on Google maps, 2.5kms to the terminal, OK! Guess I'm going to have to run this; I have less than an hour.
No problem I've done more than that in an hour.

Unplug the tablet put it away and move through the exito for the last time.
A quick glance over to Western Union I see a guy sitting behind the counter eating.
I slide over and politely say "Buenos dios¿ cambia deniro? USD" he looks up smiles and replies "no problem how much you want?" I reel back in surprise, really! Blah blah my whole story comes spilling out. With a smile he hands me the CoP and wishes me well.
With a chuffed spring in my step I saunter out the shop through the car park to the road, I hail a taxi climb in and off to the terminal de transporte.

Thank heavens I didn't run, I remember thinking as we were pulling into the terminal.
I jog into chaos, weaving through the masses. I get to my ticket office, "uno ticket Cartagena por vafour." The lady behind the counter looks at me looks at the deniro I'm holding out, looks at me and then starts. What she said I have no idea.

The next thing a gentleman takes me by the shoulder directs me through the gate onto the bus and to a seat, the money still in my hand.
Looking around a little confused I relax take my cap off and smile, click.... I look up the driver has just taken my picture. I rub my eyes sigh and smile again. In on the bus I have made it.
Before I have started to formulate the last part of my journey we are pulling out the terminal- time2:15.
Would I have made it had I have run?

A taxi from our boat to the terminal de transporte costs 18000 to 25000 CoP again depending on what you know. Catch a motorbike can cost 10 to 18000 CoP again depending on what you know. The public bud from the terminal to the castle which is fifteen minutes walk from our anchorage costs 1 USD.

I arrive in Cartagena as the sun was falling, caught the bus to the castle and had enough money to buy 4 beers and a chocolate for Joshua. Chocolate in Colombia costs more than a gram of cocaine.

Tonight is our last night in Colombia and we are having dinner and drinks with our good friend and skipper of sailing yacht Star stream Mr Larry

What a great evening, what a great end to an epic sail and a testing journey.

To sit on a boat we had sat on in Grenada drinking rum and now drinking the same rum on the same boat with the same Mr Larry was a great honour and a nice end to our sailing adventure.

At sunrise we overland all the way back to where we started from, I had a lump in my throat and emptiness in my stomach.

Baz