Day 3 (March 19, 2016) - The Most Intense Day of My Life Thus Far
Still a bit tired, I awoke just after 7 a.m., and opened my hotel room curtains to see a beautiful garden sitting area, with lush green trees and grass. It was a delightful view for my first morning in South Africa. Going to breakfast was an offering typical In North American hotels, with some hot breakfast offerings and some cereals, fruits, and yoghurts, and so on.
In the lobby, I met with the team for our trip to the headquarters of our corporate office, but not before Marilyn gave us all gifts of wonderful German chocolates! 
We set off for a day of experiencing Joburg and South Africa. Traveling on the roads here is a different experience than what is in Canada. Firstly, drivers don't use handsfree phones, and don't hesitate to respond to a phone call while driving. Another difference from Canada is that people are riding freely, loaded in the back of pickup trucks, having more passengers crammed into a vehicle than there are seatbelts for. On this particular day, while riding around Joburg, just after 9 a.m., was a man wearing a dog costume in the back of a pickup truck, drinking Red Bull and smoking an ecigarette. Very strange (to me). 

At many street intersections are people selling newspapers, and other items, like golf clubs, and I am not sure what else they are selling. I am not sure that I know anyone who would be looking to buy a golf club at and intersection.
Joburg is very cosmopolitan, and Marilyn calls it the Beverly Hills of South Africa, with upscale shopping and homes and cars. In addition to that, though, is barbed wire. I have never seen so much barbed wire or electric wire fencing in my life. It protects the boundaries of homes and businesses alike, and it is very prevalent. Joburg, and South Africa really is a melting pot, they say, and today we saw this in the mansions and expensive cars and shops, and mixed with squatters towns. More on that later.
We went to the Apartheid Museum, which was a lot of history that was terrible, terrible, terrible, but also history that was unbelievably inspiring in how people can stand together and beat down a system of oppression like that. Our tickets to the museum were randomly handed out, and visitors entered as a White or as a Non-White (I was a non-White). I highly recommend visiting this museum; it was very powerful and moving. The cafe there was called the Truth Cafe; the menu was written on a chalkboard, and
was my first real exposure to food and prices here. There were offerings like Bobotie and ostrich, and the prices were a bit surprising simply because for me glancing at it, I read it as $68 for chicken curry and rice, however it was 68 Rand, which is actually only $5.60 CDN.



In the cafe, and in the gift shop were some interesting 'pictures' that I discovered when I got very close to them, were not painted, but were crafted from beads. They depicted significant people in the movement against the Apartheid regime and laws, and I appreciated the effort and talent that went into the making of those beautiful pieces.

 
This museum and its presentation of an important history of South Africa left our entire group feeling numbed. We were so moved by the bad and the good, but it was a lot to take in, and it warrants another visit at another time. It is incomprehensible to me, that humans could have been treated so poorly by other humans. Some of it made me think about the segregation within my own country, of natives being taken from their families and put into schools far away, and how many were treated so poorly. The fight for rights and equality still goes on in Canada as well as South Africa, however there has been change in both places, positive change, and we need to continue to move in a positive direction. Until this point of the day, our team had been lively and engaged, excited and energetic, however the experience of the museum left us emotionally weighted, quiet, and deep in thought. This is something that I think all visitors to South Africa should see, to understand what happened here. 
Nelson Mandela is memorialized all over South Africa as the hero of heroes. He is a true inspiration to me, and I encourage you to look up a Mandela quote today; I will commit to reading his book to learn even more from him, and be inspired.
From the museum, we traveled to Soweto, which is not a name of a city, but was derived from South West Township, and is a section that is known to have poor and rich. There were reminders of the World Cup from a few years ago, things like the glass soccer balls mounted on street lights.
 
And, as we have seen in other places, barbed wire, electric fences and walls, built around houses large and small. We saw an old set of structures, like rows of single story town houses, where people live for free, but at the cost of no amenities or maintenance, so the dwellings are run down and in need of repair. Across the road from this old development, is a new development, with new multistory dwellings with amenities, all brand new, but no one lives there. The new development was built with the intent to relocate residents from the old development, and they would not have to pay rent, but would have to pay for utilities and water. Apparently, for the people who have been living freely in the old structures, they did not want to pay anything, and refused to move it, and so the new structures are totally empty, and the old structures are inhabited.
One of our stops was at a squatter's town, where there are hundreds of old tin huts and boarded boxes that people call home (for lack of a better description), where a resident lead us through, explaining about life in such a place. He said that he wanted to lead us in peace, as friends, and not bring us back in pieces, and assured our safety. Without the guide, there is no way that we would have been able to experience such a close up and personal taste of this life safely. 
As small as these homesteads were, each seemed to be bordered with a fence (with barbed wire, also!), as if to claim a certain space as their own, but no yard space was large; no yard space was medium. All were what I would call small. As we walked down a red dirt path into the area, we were followed by some children, who played and looked at us with curiousity as they hugged and posed, and flashed their beautiful smiles. We were welcomed into the home of a 55 year old sweet lady, who spoke about her life, and showed us around her two room structure  (you could see the whole thing by standing in one spot). It was very old, and things were piled everywhere, however she did have a 'kitchen' table and a couple of chairs that our group squeezed around to listen to her story. 
 
She had 'the luxury' of an outdoor tap line that she could get water from her own yard outside. Apparently you can pay someone to illegally tap into the town water, running a pipe underground to someone's yard; this was a convenience, to have a tap in her yard, so that she did not have to walk far to get or carry water. She had a propane burner and a kerosine (?) burner, that serves as her 'stoves', although she said the propane was very expensive. Her bed had worn and blackened bedding, and it would not be somewhere that I would like to sleep. She told us how her husband had passed away, she has two children, and she is looking for a new husband. She smiled at that that and laughed... did we know someone who would like to be her husband? 
We were very blessed to have been given a glimpse into her home, her life, her experiences. We contributed some money as a donation from the group, as we have so very, very much, in our lives, and she has so little in material wealth. What she does have though, despite the poverty and conditions that she lives in, is happiness. She glowed. She conveyed a sense of inner peace that I don't see in many people that do have money. In that sense, she is richer than many of us. She was a true inspiration.
She was asked if she could sing us a song, and she sang the anthem, accompanied by our guide. It was sang in a lovely and gentle way, the notes were sweet and soothing, and touched my heart with its simple beauty.
We said our goodbyes to our generous hostess, and headed back up the path with our guide, where he stopped midway, and shared that he was glad that our hostess sang a song, but he had hoped she would have sung the Click song. You can google Click song, and listen to Miriam Makeba sing this... the singer makes clicking sounds as they sing... I thought someone was tapping on something behind us as our guide was singing, but it was him clicking with his voice. It was incredible to hear him sing this live, with his wonderful voice.
We bid adieu to our guide at the entrance to the squatter's town, safe and sound, and contributed some money to him as a group also. There were some vendors selling wares in the parking area where our van was, and I was drawn to a beaded doll, which I bought for 120 Rand.
We continued in the van from this deep experience on to another reminder of the struggle for rights and equality in this country: the Hector Pieterson Memorial. Hector, aged 12, was one of the first causalities of one of the uprisings in 1976, killed by a direct shot from police. A newspaper photograph by Sam Nzima was published in newspapers globally. This was a strange place for us, in that we had had a very intense day exposed to so much history, violence, poverty, and now we were at a memorial about yet another violent clash, and we were approached by a photographer. Most of us posed... that's what you do when a camera is pointed at you, but we had mixed feelings about this. Not everyone would come in the picture; it was too sad a time, this event. I did buy a copy of the photo, but it is bittersweet, and comes with a sadness, and confusing, conflicting feelings about what is right and what is wrong. The memorial was there to remind us of this sad event, but was also there to honour Hector and all who died in this struggle.
After a short time, we traveled to downtown Soweto, and stopped at Mandela House, which is where Nelson Mandela lived for some time before his imprisonment. We got there just as the staff was leaving, but our guide was persuasive and presented a cause for how far we had come from, and they reopened the grounds for us for 5 minutes. That was the speediest sight seeing stop I have ever been a part of, but we very much appreciated the generousity of the staff and their own time. We were in and out in five minutes as promised, which is quite a feat for a group of 13 tourists!
We hustled from there across the street, to see Desmond Tutu's house, but that was closed for the day, with no sign of possible negotiation of entry. Next to the property is a lively bar, and we decided to stop for a fast beverage and snack. I should clarify that by 'fast', we were going to each get one drink and share some appetizers. This was a reminder that 'fast' is a relative term here in South Africa, our orders were a long time coming, and it wasn't until almost 7 pm that we were finally able to pay (note, this place was packed, and was very entertaining watching the locals and tourists). We finally headed back to our hotel, where some of us went to supper at the Bull Run restaurant there. My chicken curry dinner was delicious, but I was starving by 8:30 when we finally got it. Worth the wait, but not so good for me, as I like to eat regularly and at an earlier time. It was great company at the dinner table, with about half the team, and after great story telling and sharing, I finally returned to my room, welcomed with a chocolate on my pillow and my bed nicely turned down.
I feel that i have not been able to adequately communicate the impact and intensity of what I experienced today; it was life-changing and powerful. It was disturbing and intense, while being laced with threads of hope and inspiration. I wish I could capture this better, but am somewhat at a loss. What I have shared is like the tip of an iceberg, with me only being able to express a small portion of the complete experience; the bulk of it is below the surface, and will be recalled in bits for the rest of my life. I have never lived a day like this before. I thank our trip organizers, guides, my team mates, and of course everyone who I read about or heard about or saw in videos and in person, throughout the day.
I am so lucky to have had this day in my life, as intense and diverse as it was. And now with a heavy heart, and countless thoughts swirling through my mind, I will try to rest to prepare for what tomorrow will bring.
I would like to close today's account with one of Nelson Mandela's quotes:
"During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die."

Day 2 (March 18, 2016) - Bug spray, Colourful Shoes, and Ostrich
My day started at 1:30 a.m. my old time. It was not a restful night of sound sleep on the plane, as I had hoped. There was a lot of noise around me, and although some people spoke in hushed tones, others most certainly did not. Also, I was in an airplane seat, not my own bed. I was in an aisle seat, and my head kept nodding off into the aisle and I was disturbed each time someone passed to go to the loo.
As mentioned, some passengers were conversing, and although that meant that I could not sleep, I did get to rest and listen to some fascinating stories. A nearby lady was with a US forestry team, and going to work on a project of reforestation in Africa. She was from Mali originally and travelled to Africa about a half dozen times a year. The gentleman she was talking with was going to a mission, and building his network of relationships along the way. He was very friendly to everyone, and handed his business card to anyone who would take it, promising that he would send them a bible. He was very devoted to his religion, and did not hesitate to ask those around him which church they go to. Someone else was conversing in French, and although I did not understand the entire conversation, I could understand many of the words. It was all very pleasant, although it would have been nice to have had more sleep.
As I mentioned, the plane lights came on at 1:30 a.m. my time (about 5:30 a.m. Ghana time), and we were given some 'refresher' moist towelettes to wake up with. By 2 a.m. we were given breakfast and delicious coffee. I had a rather generous breakfast of tomato and cheese omelet with potatoes, spinach, sausage, fresh fruit, yoghurt, and a croissant. A great way to start the day!
Once breakfast was cleared, we landed, and most people vacated the plane in Accra, Ghana, while those of us proceeding to Jo'burg stayed on the plane.
I had to stand for a while (along with many others), as my tailbone had enough with the many hours of being seated, and it was complaining with stabbing jabs of pain. We were about an hour on the plane, waiting for refueling, and for a change in staff (fresh staff, the old staff said, as they left!). Also, there was a security sweep, so that those of us remaining on the plane had to remove all of our own bags from the overhead bins, to see if there were any bags left behind by the travelers who had disembarked. We had repeated announcements about that, and announcements to all sit in our seats so they could do a head count. And then yet another announcement to sit so the head count could be done. And then someone was in the toilets during head count so they had to start all over again. Eventually we could stand for a bit again, and I joined some others who were standing near the rear exit, to try to get some fresh air through the door that was open there while the plane waited on the tarmac.
Eventually we were directed back to our seats, the new passengers joined us, and all doors were closed. Then an announcement was made about some spray and how it was harmless to most, but people could cover their nose and mouth with a napkin, and warned that contact lens users may experience some irritation. I wasn't sure what was going on, until I could hear a spraying sound, and two stewardesses passed in the aisle from the back up to the front, each carrying before them two aerosol cans that they were spraying as they walked. I looked at my neighbouring passenger across the aisle and she had retreated with her sweater over her head so as to not breathe the fumes. Oy. Apparently, they were spraying for mosquitoes! (This is a Yellow Fever country.) Shortly after this, we were on our way into the air smoothly.
On this leg of the flight, we were served more drinks, and a generous lunch that was more than I could eat, due to the generous breakfast. I had beef stew with a fresh bun, there was fruit, a pasta chicken salad, cheese, cake, coffee... I am surely going to gain weight if I keep getting this amount of food coming my way!
This crew did not turn on the tail cam during this leg of the flight, so I could not see the interesting perspective from it that I had hoped to, as we flew over Africa. We were warned that when we were going to approach our landing, there was some minor turbulence, but really there was nothing much at all. I was going to try to do some knitting on the plane, but I was really tired from not having slept the night before, so, not being able to see anything, I spent most of that leg resting with my eyes closed (but unable to sleep), until 4:30 pm when we touched down in Johannesburg.
Because I was in the last row on the plane, I was one of the last people off the plane, but that was of no consequence, as everyone had to wait on the tarmac until two shuttles came to carry us to the terminal. The planes around us were very large, most coming from around the world, like Lufthansa, Swiss Air, and so on.
After leaving the shuttle, I had to walk through quite a maze of airport walkways, to get to where the customs and exit were. Before entering the customs area, we all had to fill out a health for E. boli, and leave it with the attendant, and only then were we permitted into the great hall of where the customs officers were. Whoa! It was huge! And there were hundreds, and I mean hundreds of people in the line ahead of me. It took over an hour to get through the lineup to finally approach a custom officer directly. Just before that, we all had to stand behind a line, while a heat imaging instrument gauged our temperatures (looking for fever); I initially thought it was a facial recognition system, but was told afterwards that it was checking for fevered travelers.
At the customs desk, I had my photo taken, my finger and thumb prints scanned, and was queried about my duration and reason for visiting South Africa. My passport was reviewed, and then I was given the stamp of approval, and able to begin my navigation to the exit. I was surprised that I had not been asked about declaring anything; this is something I had expected based on my experience in coming into Canada after traveling to the US. Instead, here you must follow one of two ways out: one path is marked with red signs, and should be followed if you are declaring anything; the other path is marked with green, and you go there if you are not declaring anything. Wow. Really? I still am amazed at this. I was told later that it is done this way in some countries, kind of an honour system, however they do spot checks of some people on the green path to ensure that they really do not have anything to declare. I can only imagine coming back from the US, the lineup many people would be going into for this 'honour system', as there are many stories of people not declaring all they have purchased so as to avoid duty, and I am sure that many of those people would gladly slip into such a designated lane, so as to breeze through.
Finally, I found the final exit sign (it was now going on 6 p.m., Jo'burg time) and I searched for someone holding a sign that was looking for me and other members of my team. Although I was on the earliest of 4 flights of members (only 10 minutes apart), I was the last one to get through from my plane to the airport exit. It was a relief to see the expected sign held by our driver, and to finally meet 3 of my team members whom I had only met and came to know on conference calls over the last three months of our pre-work assignments and conference calls. Here in the airport, I met three of the guys, all from India, and it was truly exciting to meet face to face finally! And, in South Africa! We were finally here!
It was quite funny to see how I was the only female in this subgroup, and yet I had packed the lightest! All the guys had multiple bags, which were heaped up onto a three carts, and I only had my knapsack and one carry-on bag. Can you believe it, me, traveling lighter than 3 guys? We all laughed about that.
We proceeded to the van where we loaded the bags up, and we hopped in and set off for our first glimpse of this land that was new to all of us. I was pleasantly surprised that it was so urban, there were beautiful six-laned highways, and a lot of vehicles. It was a bit unnerving to ride at highway speed on the opposite side of the road than I am used to, and I was glad that I was not expected to drive. At a fast pace, my heart skipped a beat a couple of times with vehicles approaching quickly on my right, towards me, but it was all a matter of getting used to a different perspective.
The sun was quickly setting, and I tried to get a good photo of my first African sunset, but billboards, trees, and tall buildings kept getting in my way was we drove along at a good clip. My surroundings reminded me of Florida, with palm trees here and there, and it also reminded me of New Brunswick and PEI with red earth exposed in some places, but overall, it impressed me as being more green than I had expected.
When we arrived at our gated hotel in Sandton, there were some other team members in the lobby, whom I got to meet for the first time; this was truly delightful to finally be coming together on this journey, with strangers who are becoming friends, and are here for a great cause. By 7 p.m., I got checked into my room, and was amazed at how wonderful and modern it was. It was beautiful! A large king-sized bed heaped with pillows, a nicely appointed desk (which concealed a hair dryer), a beautiful and sparkling clean bathroom with full tub and separate glass walled shower. I quickly unpacked a few things, then joined my fellow teammates in the hotel lobby. The lobby was lovely and had several chairs situated in areas so as to allow groups to gather somewhat separated, while being in a common open area. One of the chair styles was like one that my husband and I had seen on our travels in PEI in the summer; it was a tall backed chair that had a rounded canopy that wrapped itself around you similar to one of the 'egg' chairs of the 70's, but with an elegance that suggested Victorian. These lobby chairs were wonderful.
It was approaching 8 p.m. and we finally all arrived in the lobby except one team member. We met the gentleman here in South Africa who was one of the key leaders in arranging things for us for our project; we discussed a few housekeeping items, had introductions of everyone, and then one team mate, Joedy, from China, offered beautiful gifts for us all; for the ladies, striking pearl earrings, and for the guys, a gorgeous lacquered wooden miniature divider with beautiful painted designs. These were such treasures that we all were very grateful to receive.
Getting hungry, we headed off to walk up the road en masse to nearby Nelson Mandela Square, an upscale shopping and dining complex which was referred to as the Beverly Hills of South Africa. There are many expensive brand shops in this complex, and I could have spent a fortune in there (but didn't!). 

Marilyn and I (she has been here before, so that was really helpful and reassuring) went to the mall to quickly get something (I had to stop and take a picture of some very colourful shoes, that would look good on Steve), and then rejoined our 10 other comrades at a restaurant called The Butcher Shop. In fact, it was also a butcher shop where you could buy your meat, and it was a deli, and a full-fledged steakhouse.

 We had appetizers of Boers (?) with bread served; the sausage pieces were in a slightly spicy sauce (and were very tasty), and the bread slices were oh so fresh and delicious! At 10 p.m. (finally!) we were served our main dishes, and what an impressive array of wonderful food it was! Given that the steak was highly recommended, I went for a nice fillet and salad. The fillet was large, and was a good inch and a half thick! Very impressive, and was delicious and melted in my mouth, it was so tender. Paola had ordered ostrich, and she very kindly allowed me to try it; it was quite good, and I will try to have more while on this trip.
It was getting quite late, and we finally finished up our delicious meal over many good laughs and stories, as we began to learn more about each other. 

 This is a very global and interesting collection of generous-minded people, and I am very excited about working with them on this project. We did not get back to the hotel until a few minutes before midnight, and I was exhausted. I was greeted by a turned down bed, and a chocolate on my pillow, which made me smile.
This 'day' for me has been very long, and more than 24 hours, considering when I last slept. As I pull up the puffy duvet over me and lay my head on the generous pillows, I hope that I find a restful sleep on my first night in a real bed, here in South Africa. Happy, tired, content, and excited, is how this day ends for me.

Day 1 (March 17, 2016)  
So. This is it. No more sleeps. I have my carry-on bag and my computer knapsack packed to the brim, and they are ready to head out the door for the big trip to South Africa. My bags are ready, but I'm not sure that I am. My stomach feels like one big knot, and I feel nervous but I am not sure why. I am very excited, so perhaps it is nervous excitement. I am not sure what there is to be nervous about; it must be the shy, introverted worrier that hides inside me and comes out every once in a while. I am determined to try to relax, so the knot will ease, but that is easier said than done.
It was hard to say goodbye today to my husband and my dog, but I know the time will fly by quick enough, and I will be back. After a good long hug at the airport drop-off, Steve helped me load my heavy knapsack on my, and away I went, into the Ottawa Airport.
I had checked in for the flight online the night before, and so I went to the self-service kiosk with confidence that all I had to do was insert my passport into the scanner and out would come my boarding pass. Wrong! (Insert a loud noise from an air horn here for special effect.) The screen at the kiosk asked for the first three letters of the destination airport. Well, okay, that's not so bad. It's Washington, so I type WAS and touch the Continue button. Next question asked: Which one? I was presented with two Washingtons. What do you mean there are two Washingtons? This is where my ignorance of geography comes in. Hmmm. So it's a 50/50 chance I get this right without hauling out my paper work from the bursting knapsack where it was. I chose the one that said 'Nat'l' in it. Wrong. That annoying air horn noise sounded in my head again. Okay, I don't want the attendant to have to come over (there are 5 sitting in the distance, and they all look very comfortable swinging in there spinning chairs and chatting). I touch the Exit button, ready to redeem myself, as I now know the right answer... it must be the other Washington!
I repeat the passport scan, the WAS three-letter question, and at the 50/50 question, I press option number 1 without the 'Nat'l'. Wrong! <Darn air horn sound in my head yet again! The screen filled with a message that the attendant would have to come help me. I glanced up from the kiosk over to the 5 attendants... none of them even noticed that they should come to help me, so I touched the Exit button again, gathered my load (bags, hat, and slippery down filled jacket), and headed over to one of the attendants.
As I approached, she barely moved from her slouched relaxed position, but that was okay, as she was helping me. I handed her my passport, and mentioned that the kiosk wouldn't let me get my boarding pass.
She asked me where I was going, so I shared that I was going to Washington (I didn't tell her which one, as I figured she would know), then Ghana, and then Johannesburg, South Africa.
She asked if I had been immunized for Yellow Fever. Wow. There it was. The question I had been fearing in the earlier days of knowing I was going to Africa. It was a decision I had struggled with. The thing is that going to South Africa was not requiring me to have this immunization, unless I was coming from a Yellow Fever area. And, as luck would have it, I would be landing (for fuel) in Ghana, and it IS a Yellow Fever area. When I went for immunization consultation for this trip, the travel clinic gave me the choice about getting the vaccination or not. I was told that to just land in Ghana for fuel on a connecting flight would not necessarily require immunization, and that I could get a certificate exempting me from it. I was concerned about that, but decided to go with this suggested route and to not get the needle. After all, the risk at getting Yellow Fever just being at the airport seemed to be low, and the travel clinic advised not getting it if it wasn't necessary.
Over the course of a few weeks prior to this trip, the international team that I was assigned to meet on a weekly conference call, and on the first call after my decision-making appointment at the travel clinic, during the open forum segment of the call, I asked if anyone had the same question posed to them for their travel. No one else was stopping in Ghana, however an alumni member who worked on a similar project last year said she would recommend getting the immunization so that there would be no danger of being held up at borders either going there or coming back. She said that she had the needle and it did not make her ill, and stressed that because she had the shot and the accompanying certificate, she had no problems. After thinking about it, I decided that I would get the needle after all, and that would be one less thing to worry about. I called the clinic to find out if I needed to set up a new appointment, but it turned out that I could go at the same pre-booked time as the next installment of my hepatitis shots. And so I did, although the travel clinic advised that I likely would not need it with the exemption certificate they had provided already.
The week before my flight, a good friend shared with me that she witnessed someone being turned away from a flight for not having the immunization; this helped me feel vindicated in my decision to have it.
And now, here I was at the airport, and the attendant asked me if I had been immunized for Yellow Fever. I could not help but smile, with self-satisfaction at getting the needle after all, and I was very happy that I could proudly produce my certificate of proof!
I am not sure, but perhaps this question was the reason why I could not do the kiosk self-serve. Who knows? After a few clicks of her mouse the attendant handed me my 3 boarding passes and off I went to fill in a declaration form.
I wheeled my carry-on bag over to the counter and began to go through the questions presented. One of the first ones was the airport question. Again with the airport! Didn't I just go through that at the kiosk? I shuffled through the passes I just had been given, to search for clues about the proper airport name. I had miserably failed at my attempt at the kiosk pop quiz, and I did not want to fail again. My boarding pass said Washington, nothing else. No "Nat'l", nothing. So I wrote "Washington". Next question: State? What do you mean state? I don't know what state Washington is in, I am not from the States. In Canada, there have been some TV shows about Americans being asked questions about Canada, and the comedy is in the answers that they share, based on what (little) they know about Canada (like thinking that we all live in igloos and have snow year round, which is incorrect).
Let's flip that scenario. If an American TV host was asking me questions about the US, I would be the person that the American viewers would be laughing at, especially when it comes to geography and state names, as I am apt to get it wrong.
So when faced with Washington's state, and knowing I got the kiosk 50/50 quiz wrong twice, I was stumped as to what I should put in the form. The only Washington I know of is Washington DC. But is DC a state? My American friends will likely find it incredulous that I don't know this, but I don't. So for the state, I put DC.
I worked my way through the other questions, then collected my load and headed to the next security person. I had to add an annotation that I was only in transit through the US, and I forgot to put the date. Oy.
Happily, I was directed to the next checkpoint; Security. Time to load everything into white trays and take off my shoes. From my knapsack, I pulled out my electronics, I took off my shoes, and then I proceeded through the scanners to greet my belongings on the other side.
As I stood waiting for my stuff, the lady at the scanner seemed to be reviewing my bag pretty closely and rescanning it. She pulled the bad off the main conveyer, and put it on a secondary one, and before I knew it, a guy came along saying it looked like I had liquids in my bag. Liquids?! What does he mean? I was so careful to put all liquids into a separate plastic bag and d'oh! He pulled the very bad I was thinking of from deep within my knapsack. What a dummy I was! Sure I had packed it in a plastic zip bag, as I should, but in my rush to take off my shoes and get everything in the trays, I totally forgot to pull out my liquids bag for inspection! Some days, as hard as I try to be organized, I just can't seem to nail the execution of pulling it off.
Drats! The security guy pulled out the offending bag and opened it, informing me that I must present my liquids, and also did I know that some items were too big. Sigh. My insect spray had to go. In my defense, I did try to get a travel-sized version but did not succeed. I gladly turned over my oversized spray bottle in order to comply and proceed. Not sure how I will repel those mosquitoes in Africa, but hopefully I will find something at my destination.
Keeping an eye on the time, once I finally made it past all security, I decided I should eat some lunch despite that annoying knot still lingering. I grabbed a quick salad with grilled chicken, and had enough time that I could stop at the currency exchange to get some South African Rand (ZAR). I asked for a couple of hundred CDN dollars to be exchanged for ZAR. She performed the transaction on my debit card and proceeded to count out 170 ZAR. I paused and looked at her. That was not right. I said I had really expected more than that, based on the rates I had seen, I thought it was about 11 (and a bit) ZAR per CDN dollar. She looked at the transaction again and realized that she had exchanged to a US $ rate but gave me ZAR bills. Oy. I may have failed 2 pop quizzes at the kiosk and the declaration point but there was no way I should be getting fewer bills than I gave her when converting to ZAR. She reversed the charge (well hopefully... I will find out when I get back), and then she took what seemed to be a number of attempts at the calculating the ZAR. In the end, I got 1,980 ZAR... a far cry from the 170 she initially gave me! Can you imagine if I had just walked away not questioning the first offer?! I am not convinced I got what I should have, but at least it was close enough, and much better than a meagre 170. I think that lady is not necessarily in the right job for her. Lesson: do your research and always count back what you get when changing money.
From there it was a quick trip to the washroom and then I was called to board right away. Apparently, while engaged in my currency exchange endeavour, my plane had started boarding and I didn't even know it.
I proceeded to the desk as she called out my name on the loudspeaker (oy) and I presented my papers. As I took them back, I turned and lost my balance with the extra heavy backpack I was not used to wearing. BAM! Down I went, backwards to the floor, and was flailing helplessly on my back like an overturned tortoise on its shell. I had to take the pack off to get up with the help of the very sweet attendant. How embarrassing! It would have been funny to see the video (if someone had taken one, that is; perhaps the security staff reviewing airport videos would find humour in it). Sometimes I have to laugh at my misfortunes, as it won't help to cry about it. What is ironic is that over lunch, I called my Mum-in-law to say goodbye, and I told her to not fall while I was away. And yet, 20 minutes after saying that, there I was, falling myself. Oy.
I managed to make it on the plane and we took off shortly thereafter. That was plane Number 1.
While I sat there looking out the window, I noticed a puzzling conundrum. Between the window panes were 2 dead bugs. One was a very small gnat sized bug, but the other was a rather large ominous looking yellowish dead fly-type bug. But airplane windows don't open, and although there is a tiny pinhole in one pane, I am perplexed at how this larger bug could end up between the sealed (?) panes. Once of my first mysteries of this journey, I guess.
 
The flight was pretty good with just a little turbulence and I was delighted to catch a glimpse of about 20 pink cherry blossom trees in full bloom as I flew into Washington. (By the way, they announced the airport as Washington Dulles... is Dulles a state? What is that, Dulles? Oy.)













After a quick re-issue of my boarding passes (2 for 1), not sure why but that's what the attendant seemed to require, I boarded onto a very nice South Africa Airways plane. I have an aisle seat in the middle bank of seats and am quite comfortable as I write. There is a camera mounted on the plane's tail, and I can watch this 'camera channel' on my personal monitor mounted on the back of the seat in front of me. That was very cool to watch the takeoff, especially because I am not at a window seat.
So far, since we levelled out after takeoff, I have been served water, a lovely mango orange juice blend, and a very nice supper: meatballs and penne, fresh bun, Monterey Jack cheese, crackers, a Greek salad, a square of dark chocolate, a piece of white cake with coconut icing, and a wonderful cup of coffee. It has been a long time since having a meal like that provided on a plane (without having to pull out the credit card). There was even metal cutlery. I am really liking this airline!
They have turned the lights out at 8:30 pm, provided a full blanket, an eye mask, and a pillow to let us passengers cozy up and get some sleep.
My first day of my journey started by feeling like I would never get on the plane, but now I am fed and comfortable and my stomach knot has disappeared.
It has been a strange day of quizzes, failed liquids declaration, suspicious currency exchange, falling like a turtle on my back, and running through the airport, like in the movies, to catch my plane. Odd, but now, all is calm and peaceful on this very smooth and quiet flight. On this positive note, I shall put down my pen, don my mask and blanket, and look forward to tomorrow's adventures. What a lovely way to end my hectic day. Good night.