I write this from the relative comfort of Bob's Bunkhouse in Edenvale, Johannesburg, for I am alone in a single room for the first time in four weeks. My last day at school was lovely. I wandered around taking pictures of the classes I worked closely with and took pictures with them:
I attended an assembly about disability. Throughout this assembly the children were surprisingly well behaved. When asked which children knew a person who was in a wheelchair, the vast majority of them raised their hand. The principal was equally warm towards me, hugging me goodbye and thanking me for my work with a school polo shirt.
I went home in the afternoon, packed and before I knew it Denver had arrived to take me to the airport. I was struck by a similar sense of sadness to that I experienced when I left home and felt very much uprooted from my new found routine. A hug from Les and Callum and off I went.
The flight was fine although at one stage we were flying straight into a storm. On the ground I find lightning to be an awesome and enjoyable display of nature, but when I was in the air amongst it I wished it didn't exist.
I arrived and my driver Abe, a Natal man, belatedly drove me to Bob's Bunkhouse. I met Bob's wife Joan and also an Australian traveller called Steph. I immediately got into a political debate with Joan who is very chatty and pleasant. No one here seems to like Jacob Zuma but Joan added further to my impression that each region and race is wary and distrusting of the others.
I went to bed to write and prepare for my bush experience. When I arrived I noticed that Bob's Bunkhouse was heavily secured with high gates, electric fencing and barred windows. I didn't know whether to take this as a good or bad sign but Joan informed me that they've never had break ins, only the cars have been attacked.
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