I must be Mad-ikwe

We’re in Madikwe Game Reserve up on the Botswana border in the north of SA for a wedding of a friend. It was a hell of a trip up here yesterday. Leaving Alex at home in the safe hands of Granny and Poliswa, we set out at 5:30am for the flight to Jo’burg and then on again for a further four and a half hours driving through places I’d only ever seen on the weather map, through the flat, barren Gauteng and North West landscape.

It struck me as we flew from the lush, green corner of SA that is Cape Town and home, up across the Karoo and into Jo’burg that there is a hell of a lot of South Africa and that most it is very empty and very brown. Also that the houses and cars in the Free State are really small. (Although that could have something to do with the fact that they were 35,000 feet below me).

It’s my first visit to a proper game reserve and though it’s a new experience, I’m not overwhelmed. Sure – it’s another thing to tick off on the list, but that’s actually all it comes down to – list ticking. Who’s seen what (everyone’s seen everything), which ranger is the best (they’re all great) and the all important question – the real competition: who’s got the biggest camera lens (mine’s tiny, but it extends and it’s very powerful).

Mealtime conversations are dominated – as of course they should be – with stories regaled of visits to other reserves and close encounters with The Big Five, discussions of auto focus techniques and has anyone seen anything interesting from their chalet. I’m sat on the deck outside ours right now watching a small herd of Tsessebe drinking from the water hole about 10 metres away. I’d never even heard of a Tsessebe before this morning. There’s a sole Impala with them. I’m going to call him Vlad the Impala.

Yes – I’m enjoying the experience, but the whole safari thing is not wowing me in the same way that it is many others here. Thus, I find myself sat with the wife’s laptop, a cold beer and my rattly iPod, occasionally glancing at Vlad et al, but enjoying the music more than the view. Does this make me a true city boy? Incapable of relaxing, needing constant stimulation, bright lights, the hum of the city; enjoying seeing my venison medium rare rather than endangered?

So be it. Each to their own. Life could be worse. The sun is shining and the stunning sunbirds are singing over the quiet bit in the REM song that’s on right now – which is actually improving it. I may even drop Michael Stipe an email and suggest a remix. I’ll be back in civilisation (well, Cape Town) in a couple of days, when I’ll also pop in some photos – in the meantime, I’m going to try and upload this.

If you’re reading this – it worked. If you’re not, you smell.

T.B. in S.A. – it’s B.A.D.

Following a myriad of complaints about my absence, I’m back.
When I say “myriad”, it was actually three complaints. And two of them were by the same person.
But who’s au fait with the literal meaning of “myriad”, anyway?

Top of the list for today is TB. I work with the stuff and it’s just great.
That’s because I work with it and I don’t have it. Having TB is obviously a completely different kettle of fish. And having XDR-TB (that’s “eXtensively Drug Resistant” TB) is almost certainly even worse.
South Africa has a big TB problem and, like many countries with a big TB problem, it also has issues with the drug resistant forms of the disease and how to effectively treat them.

The USA woke up to the threat of XDR-TB earlier this year with the Andrew Speaker case. Here’s the wikipedia link, rather grandly entitled the “2007 tuberculosis scare”.
How pathetic. I have a “tuberculosis scare” each time I go to the local supermarket.

Compare then, and contrast if you will, the terminology used in this Cape Times article, which claims that 3 patients have “escaped” or “absconded” from the isolation unit at the local hospital. The Department of Health, bless them, have been quick to point out that while there are laws allowing authorities to detain XDR-TB patients, they cannot legally force them to take their (rather unpleasant) medication anyway.

It opens up a huge can of worms. I reluctantly accept that these patients’ human rights would be violated if they were forced to take medication, but they are surely violating the human rights of others by leaving their isolation wards and living amongst their families and communities. Perhaps there is a case for returning to the old days of “Typhoid Mary” and mandatory detention and enforced medication for patients with highly contagious infectious diseases. I can just imagine the faces of my liberal readership (now my liberal ex-readership) as I suggested that. They’ll change their tune when they’ve got an XDR-TB case living next door to them and their kids though. Liberals do that.
Essentially though, we’re just delaying the inevitable. XDR is the big, bad brother of TB. It has tattoos, a criminal record and growls instead of talking. It wears a leather bikers jacket and doesn’t shave. It has friends in high places and enjoys tea and scones with Jackie Selebi each Friday.
It’s only a matter of time until we see an explosion of cases here in SA. Unless we push through those mandatory medication laws.
And that’s not going to happen.

Anyway, while we have three patients “on the run”, Andrew Speaker has been on national TV being interviewed by Larry King, no less. Bless our American friends. Life certainly is “different” over there.

Going back to our local case, it’s entirely possible the three escapee patients just left because they got fed up with the food.
After all, their diet in hospital consists solely of pizza and pancakes.
I once asked a doctor at one of the isolation units if this had any specific health benefits for them.
“No”, he replied, “but that’s all we can slide under the door…”

A Nation Mourns As One (Almost)…

I know that I’ve previously mentioned (here and here) the issues around race and sport in South Africa and the difficulties these have caused in gaining support for the upcoming 2010 FIFA World Cup tournament, which is due to start in South Africa at ten past eight. Or something.

Well, those issues surely came to a head this weekend, when the Springbok (rugby) side played Samoa in their World Cup, while Bafana Bafana (the football side) played Zambia in a vital African Cup of Nations qualifier SIMULTANEOUSLY AND AT THE SAME TIME!!!


A clear opportunity for a national racial divide then? Well, actually, not quite.


The Ad Wizard (if we were the less-amusing-than-it-used-to-be 2oceansvibe.com, we’d link to a list of friends, including the revolting Nic Marais, with nicknames related to their employment here, but we’re not, so we won’t) was despairing at my lack of commitment to going and watching the football and SMS’ed:

How on earth am
I going to find a
safrican to watch
the footie with. I
only know white
people.

In actual fact, things worked out ok and he, myself and The Political Analyst (dear god – it’s catching!) headed down to Newlands to support the boys in yellow, ignoring the apathy of the possibly predominantly white, rugby-watching couch potatoes.What we found there amazed us. A truly cosmopolitan crowd of every colour imaginable. (Actually, that’s a lie, there were no greens or lilacs, but you get what I mean, I’m sure.) And with unreserved seating, the atmosphere build up started early.

White kids dragging their parents into the dark, vuvuzela-laden world of African football; the middle-aged, delighted at the opportunity to watch international sport at one fifth of the rugby prices; children of every age and creed sat on proud dad’s shoulders; and of course, the true fans in their colourful numbers – the ones who turn out rain or shine to watch the beautiful game.

This truly was a demonstration of The Rainbow Nation: race, preconceptions and issues left at the turnstiles, problems forgotten for 90 minutes as everyone waved their flags, blew their horns and got behind the national team. You just don’t get this universal, inclusive passion at rugby matches. Check the video if you don’t believe me.

What an opportunity for Bafana Bafana to win over the sceptics, the naysayers and the critics.
And what better way to do it than going 0-3 down to Zambia inside 21 minutes, each goal presented on a silver platter by a hapless defence to a grateful Chris Katongo?
Amazingly, the atmosphere didn’t die, as Bafana created chance after chance. And local hero Benni McCarthy did score early in the second half. But despite a valiant effort, the damage was done and the fans went home entertained, but disappointed.

Even though the game ended in defeat for the home side, I’d like to think that a few more 2010 supporters were gained from the fantastic support and the amazing mood inside the the stadium.It was all in stark contrast to the last 15 minutes of the rugby we watched when we got back home, which seemed quiet, dull and distant in comparison, despite the more positive result.

Spring Day and more…

Once again, South Africa’s unofficial “Spring Day” (today) is ruined by the typically unspringlike weather which has left puddles on my lawn and rendered Table Mountain completely invisible, in a spookily David Copperfield kind of way.
Is this some hideous effect of climate change? Season creep? Or just a hopelessly optimistic plan by the locals to pretend that winter is over?
It ain’t – the sudden influx of wading birds into our garden surely proves that. September or not, this sort of weather hints that you should be indoors, under a rug, a glass of red wine in your hand (might I suggest KC 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot from Klein Constantia just down the road?) and some decent music playing (unless there’s footy on the TV, obviously).

Decent music? Can of worms, anyone?
South Africa has a number of very good bands and singers. I have eluded to several of these previously, but just to run you through 6000’s Top 3 once again, they are the incredibly James-esque Parlotones (new album out 28th September), aging rocker Arno Carstens* with the Springbok Nude Girls, and the incomparable FreshlyGround, who can’t be compared with anyone, because they are incomparable.

And now add to that a couple of other names. One for the laydeez amongst you, pretty-pop-chick-folk-piano-and-vocals-with-nipplestand-in-a-laid-back-Tori-Amos style, Louise Carver, which is currently playing in the background here (good place for it) as Nix wrestles with another terrifyingly large spreadsheet full of terrifyingly large numbers; and the “the power of the Foo Fighters meets the pretty pop of Britney Spears” (their words, not mine) of Love Jones – whose imaginatively-titled debut CD, “Love Jones” is certainly well worth a listen.

But why would any South Africa muso want to stay in and listen to local stuff?
Well, let’s look at the international artists winging their way down to see us in the near future, shall we? Lest we forget, SA is a small market for the big stars and it’s a long flight, so we don’t get spoilt for choice.
And I think I’m about to prove that right here, right now:

  • Pink: September 07
  • Enrique Iglesias: October 07 – followed closely by his dad:
  • Julio Iglesias: November 07
  • Michael Bublé : December 07
  • Elton John: January 08 – and then to add insult and injury to insult and injury:
  • Celine Dion: February 08

The worst bit is, this isn’t a selective list. This is the list. There are no others.

Dear Lord. I know I don’t believe in you, but just supposing for a moment I did, please save us. Please.**

And with that, it’s back to the red wine, I think…

* He won’t thank me for calling him that. In fact, he won’t say anything to me, because he won’t read this.
** He won’t thank me for asking him that. In fact, he won’t say anything to me, because he won’t read this.