The sunrise of my last morning in Urbana reminded me of so many other beautiful sunrises I have seen from my apartment there on the rare (usually contemplative) occasions I am awake at that time. It is early morning here in Durban as I write this - 5:44am - but the sun has already risen and I am awake after about five hours of sleep. My wakefulness is likely due to jet lag and my excitement to finally see the city in daylight but also partly due to the loud cries of hadada ibis from outside of my window. The "hadada" part of their name refers to their loud call of "haa haa haa de dah" that sounds to me at this early hour like mocking. Of course I can hardly blame them - my dreams were suffuse with everyday anxieties from Urbana and it seems ridiculous to me they still reach me thousands of miles away.
K dropped me off in Indianapolis about 10:30am (EST) and I entered the "airport-complex" - a vast network of airports, technical devices, quasi-private/quasi-public organizations providing services that range from shoe shines to security, and the individuals who move within the complex for work, pleasure, and countless other reasons. After an event-less couple of hours of waiting, I boarded my flight to Atlanta and arrived with ample time to make my way to the international terminal where I would catch my next flight to Dakar, Senegal.
The international terminal buzzed with a different energy than the domestic terminals at Indy or Atlanta - it was a nervous, near-fearful energy encouraged by the public announcement warnings and the shallow glass displays that lined the concourse's walls. The majority of these displays were entitled "BUYER BEWARE" and they teemed with "exotic" objects including animal parts (in some cases, even wholes), jewelry, and powdered or liquid concoctions. The displays warned travelers not to partake in a particular kind of dangerous consumption while abroad - a consumption that suggests the piecemeal dismantlement of cultures that are at once attainable through the possession of a few totemic objects and at the same time radically "other" or incomprehensible. To me these glass cases resembled the dusty dioramas I remember poring over as a child during a class visit to a natural history or cultural museum.
The nervous energy of the concourse seemed most perceptible at the currency exchange stands, whose large, lighted advertisements exploited fears of US travelers of being caught in an unspoiled, idyllic paradise without a means to sustain the paradise and their experience of it monetarily. Other smaller and more officious warnings instilled fears of these same travelers being caught "out there" at the mercy of exchange rates and money-changers in unfamiliar territory. Ironically enough, this particular stand in Atlanta offered an exchange rate for the Rand (South African currency unit) at 6.2 to the dollar while the rate in Johannesburg's airport offered R7 to the dollar.
The eight-hour flight from Atlanta to Dakar was pleasant - the 767 was relatively empty and many of us were able to spread out into two or more seats and attempt odd bodily contortions in hopes of finding a few hours of sleep along the way. We landed in Dakar about 5:20am local time but those of us continuing on to Johannesburg were not allowed to disembark. It would have been nice to get a sense of what Dakar looked like - I was hoping the sun would rise before our takeoff or the ascent above the clouds - but I just saw lights intermittently scattered around the airport and the scrabbly vegetation next to the runway during our plane’s taxi. During the hour we waited on the plane, airport/government officials entered to search our seats and bags and spray a “human-friendly” insecticide of some sort through the cabin that smelled sweet and heavy.
When we reached 10,000 feet during the next eight-hour leg of the flight it looked as though we were flying next to the stars themselves. There were two especially bright ones in relative proximity to one another that stayed constant even while the others began to fade at the suggestion of dawn. Seeing them made me wonder which stars they were and encouraged me to investigate stars visible from the Southern hemisphere after landing. The sun rose blindingly bright above the clouds and I closed the window-shades so that I could sleep for a few more hours before landing.
After the quiet seclusion of the flights, the Johannesburg airport seemed to explode with confused interactions that ranged from the sweet (a cute little hound sniffed out a banana I had stowed in my bag – its caretaker confiscated it while several people pet the dog) to the inexplicable. Because of the country’s high rate of unemployment (of which I hope to address in more detail in future posts), the international terminal teems with unofficial porters who insistently attempt to take charge of you and your luggage. From what I was told these porters often offer help and then pressure you for a disproportionate amount of compensation later. The Joburg airport was vast and – although much of it was under construction – enclosed its inhabitants within a giant cocoon of glass and steel. During my wait for the last part of my travels within the airport complex (an hour flight from Joburg to Durban) I ate at “WIMPY,” a fast-food burger restaurant (the ketchup is so sweet here, its first ingredient is sugar!) and met J, about eight years younger than me but also traveling to South Africa to complete a semester at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Durban.
After the quick flight into Durban I also met two other young Americans – S and H, two women from Portland who were traveling to a smaller, coastal town two hours from Durban as volunteers to help the local school establish an after-school program. It was hard to have an impression of Durban since it was so dark when I arrived. It is nearly 7am now and later today I will be going round to get a sense of the area – at least in terms of necessities (a laptop adaptor, a pay-as-you-go cell phone, and food for my kitchenette). Also, at some point later it will be necessary for me to articulate in words why it is that I have come here to spend the next three months. But first… perhaps I will try to sleep for another few hours.
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