our thanksgiving in cape town

I've been trying to come up with a creative way to introduce our trip to Cape Town, but to call it beautiful, incredible and refreshing sounds redundant after all my other posts about all the amazing places we've been lucky enough to visit this year.  Nonetheless, it was all of the above and more.  Cape Town is the confluence of mountains, white sand beaches and sparkling turquoise oceans (the Atlantic and the Indian), exotic wild animals and completely reliable infrastructure, not to mention world-class shopping and dining.  Oh and hundreds of incredible vineyards are only 20 minutes away.  It's like all the great things about California without the Californians.  And thanks to the exchange rate, everything is on sale.  Joey wants to move there.  I'd happily live in Cape Town if my family wasn't so far away or if we could convince them to move with us.  Anybody?  Take a look at my photos and get back to me...

Getting to Cape Town was no easy feat.  We'd heard horror stories about our airline (Arik) and transiting through Lagos, both of which we faced.  But to our complete and utter shock, our flights were on time and everything went smoothly.  I guess after all of our other travel woes we'd finally earned enough karma to redeem for a trip.

Smoothly or not, we still had an hour drive to the Abuja airport, an hour wait for the flight, an hour flight between Abuja and Lagos, a five hour layover in the Lagos airport that is not air-conditioned (who needs A/C when it's only 90 degrees outside?), followed by a six hour flight to Johannesburg, and another five hour layover in the Johannesburg airport (I heart Woolworths in the airport) before boarding our final two hour flight to Cape Town.  Yes, we planned another 23 hour trip, and just like the other ones, it was totally worth it.  

After departing the rental car desk, we proceeded to our car.  Anyone who's ever ridden with Joey will attest he is not the best driver (sorry, honey).  So imagine having to get in a car with Joey behind the wheel on the other side of the car.  Terrifying.  Then add in driving on the other side of the road.  And the driver is saying how he's never been so freaked out to drive before and can't figure out where to drive.  Fantastic.

But somehow we made it to the hotel, and I even managed to take a few pictures on the way.  We may have also gotten lost in the meantime, but there was certainly no yelling or parking of the car or freaking out while trying to figure out where in the hell we were because I was convinced we were going to get carjacked.  I will admit to the pit stop at the burger place.  

The massive burgers in our bellies allowed our brains to focus on something other than food (and the beer may have chilled our sleep-deprived selves out), and we found the hotel.  I took a shower and unpacked while Joey took a nap, and then we were off to explore the V&A Waterfront along the Atlantic.

Our room was called "American Graffiti" at Villa Zest

We wandered past the shops and restaurants, and even into a mall (you can go ahead and cue Handel's Messiah here).  We drank cappuccino and tap beer and ate warm goat cheese while enjoying the crisp air of the South African summer evening.  

Wishing his family happy Thanksgiving.

We compensated for missing Thanksgiving at home by celebrating our first Thanksgiving as just the two of us at the chichi chain, Nobu (remember what I was telling you about everything on sale?  Even Nobu is (barely) affordable with the South African rand at 8.5 to the dollar).  We decided to order our own tasting menu, including copious amounts of sushi and Wagyu beef, ordering so much the waitress came back half-way through to see if we still wanted the rest of the food.  We, the perpetual fat kids on vacation, didn't.  It was. That. Much food.  A true Thanksgiving dinner indeed.

Pork belly and such.  Nom nom nom.

how best buy tried to screw me and funny emails from frank

As you may be aware, I ruined my camera on our trip to Ghana.  Actually, the rain ruined my camera, but I probably should have known better than to take a camera in a rain forest and expect it to stay dry.  Since my blond roots tend to show more often than not, I always buy the warranty.  If it's a high-ticket item, chances are I'm going to drop it, lose it, break it or get it wet (like the time I bent the setting on my wedding ring by 90 degrees when I fell into the sump pump hole in our basement).  As such, when I originally bought the G10 back in 2009, I also bought the warranty.


This proved a smart decision in the summer of 2010 when the G10 just stopped working (I swear).  I took the camera and the warranty into Best Buy and after about a month of wrangling back and forth, they replaced it with a brand-new G11.  Best Buy's replacement of the G10 with the G11 constituted fulfillment of the original warranty, so I purchased a new warranty for the G11.


So when we got back from Ghana, I mailed the G11 (minus the battery, lest the pouch reject it), the warranty, the receipt and detailed instructions (including an explanation for the Geek Squad as to why the battery was missing) to my always-willing-to-help dad.  I asked him to please take it to Best Buy right away because I was afraid they would take longer with the holiday rush and I needed a solution no later than January when we meet in Italy (so he could bring the battery).  Three weeks later, my dad sent me this:


Hello Kid,


Just got your camera in the mail today.  I unpacked the box, read the notes, immediately put on my coat and shoes, got in my car, and drove as fast as I could to Best Buy!  (The cop couldn't keep up so I didn't get a ticket)  When I got to the parking lot there was a front row spot just waiting for me!  After making an older woman pee her depends, I jumped out of the car and ran into the store as fast as my new tennis shoes would take me................Just to frigin' wait in line for about a half hour because some couple can't figure out that they can't get cash back without a receipt!  After they finally got done, I go up to the counter only to find out that "ITS A GEEK THING" and I should have been in the line on the other side of the circular barrier!  I go around and after another fifteen or twenty minutes they told me there was no battery in the camera.  After a few minutes of explanation they finally said it would be no later than Dec. 17th for an answer whether they would junk it and give you a new one, or repair it.  So now we wait.  I'll let you know as soon as I get the word.   


Anything else I can do, just call someone else!  Just kidding, you know I'm here for you two!!  


Love you guys 
Dad


In the meantime, I decided to buy the T2i, which I also had sent to my dad (again, thanks to the battery).  But, because the price keeps fluctuating so much, I told him not to open the box just in case the price goes down enough for me to exchange it.  Here's his response:


Got it Kid. Won't open till I hear from you. This camera thing is like a game with new moves all the time! Like getting my orders from my secret agent boss!


Smart ass.


So a few days ago, Best Buy called my dad and said they'd made a decision on the camera.  They were going to give me a new one - yay!  But there was a catch:  Best Buy wanted to replace my top-of-the-line, $500 point-and-shoot with a puny, little $199 X230HS.  The geek fed my dad some line about technology getting better and prices dropping and compared it to the cost of LED TVs.  Then the geek straight-up lied and said the X230HS is better than the G12.  For those of you who don't know anything about cameras, this is like trying to replace a Mercedes with a Dodge. 


The geek also offered a $199.99 Best Buy gift card.  Oh woo hoo!  Now I only have to spend $300 more dollars to replace the camera on which I already bought a $70 warranty!


Obviously when my dad relayed this offer, I told him to please share with Best Buy my feelings about it.  Feelings that included my favorite four letters, or as they'd call it here in Nigeria, 419 (fraud).  Dad said he'd take care of it.  Then I got this email:


Subject:  The Camera Saga Concluded


OK Kid,


After a short demonstration of Consumer Reports magazine and a full presentation of documents from all the online services Mom could find.....................you now have a BRAND NEW CANON G12 CAMERA IN THE BOX!!!!!!!! 


Tell me what the hell you want me to do NEXT!!


Love you.

Daddy


Silly Best Buy.  Don't try to scam someone who lives in Nigeria!


P.S.  Don't I have the best dad ever?

it's not you, it's me.

Seriously, would everyone please stop inviting us out?  I know my combination of charm, wit and extensive vocabulary of four-letter words makes me irresistible, but I really just don't want to go to your dinner.  Okay, while I'm honored for the invitation and do realize it's probably not my sparkling personality but that everyone stuck here for the holidays is lonely too, I still don't want to go.  I don't mean to sound stuck-up, but I just don't feel like putting on a bra and makeup to go eat your meal out of a can.  Or to stand around making small talk about the same three topics while drinking the same three beverages available to me at home.  Just because everybody works together does not mean that we all have to be together all the time.  Let's face it:  besides where we live and how much we love it here, we really don't have that much in common.  So thanks, but no thanks.  

Really though, when you live in a fishbowl, how do you draw the line?  In such a small community, is it at all possible to avoid offending your co-workers (who also happen to be your neighbors) because you didn't attend their event?  

 

So maybe it makes me a bitch because I skipped the girl's night and my neighbor's brunch and don't want to share my Christmas dinner with anyone besides my husband.  I won't apologize for choosing to sit at home in my hot pink sweatpants with Joey and the dogs and eat popcorn and chocolate chips by the bag and drink wine by the bottle this holiday season.  I prefer to think of myself as an introvert who misses her family and friends and snow and America and just doesn't feel like putting on a brave face to go shoot the shit with people she barely knows on Christmas.  Is that really so bad?

il gatto nuota

Joey and I decided we're going to learn Italian.  We bought Rosetta Stone at least four years ago (before the wedding) and figured since we are headed back to Italy next month for the third time since our wedding, now'd be a good time to open the software.  Especially since it cost as much as three months of malaria medication.  I digress...

Maybe I'm just special, but I really hate the voice recognition software.  If it tells me I'm not pronouncing "no" or "e" one more time, I might have to throw the headphones against the computer screen (again).  Maybe that's why they're not working...

anti-malarials

I started taking Mefloquine. Three weeks before we departed for post.  Mefloquine isn't generally recommended for those who have suffered from depression in the past, but it is the only anti-malarial safe for pregnancy, and this time last year we'd fully intended that I'd be pregnant.

Until we got here.

One look at the haze of the Harmattan and I couldn't bear the thought of bringing a baby back to Abuja.  I absolutely believe in a woman's right to choose when it's the right time for her to become a mother, so I respect the many people who have added to their families here, but I knew this wasn't where I wanted to start mine.

I thought I'd stick with the Mefloquine anyways since it was the easiest option.  It's offered free through the med unit and you only have to take it once a week.

That lasted for about two months.  At the time I was pretty sure it was exacerbating my depression, but looking back on all that we were going through at the time: an international move to a dangerous, third-world country, away from our family and friends and Target, and with it the culture shock of a new home, a new country, a new job and new friends, I'm wondering if maybe it wasn't the Mefloquine that was making me blue.

So back in early March I switched to Doxycycline.  Doxycycline is an antibiotic, and while it doesn't cause the crazy dreams or shit-for-sleep that Mefloquine does, it does cause some killer nausea, especially if you're already prone to motion sickness.  Also, from my completely unscientific research, I deduced that it's generally recommended not to take antibiotics for more than six months consecutively since they kill everything in your system - the good bacteria with the bad bacteria.  And if the sales numbers of Traditional Medicinal's Smooth Move Herbal Tea are any indicator, you'd see a spike between March and four days ago.

Finally on Friday I decided that I was sick of feeling sick every single day.  I ran out of another box of the tea and I figured I'm already depressed this holiday season, so WTF, I'm going back to the Mefloquine.

There is a third option.  While the med unit will write you a prescription for Malarone, they don't keep it on hand, and you have to come out of pocket to pay for this drug.  I first attempted my foray into Malarone in June, but for some reason the insurance company had my birth date wrong and no one at Coventry felt the need to tell me my prescription couldn't be filled.  So I wait the six weeks I'm told it will take for the prescription to be filled and mailed to me and nothing.

After too much time on hold with Coventry, I thought I got my birth date changed.  The patient people in the med unit resubmitted the prescription, patient little me waits six more weeks and still nothing.  The idiots at Coventry couldn't figure out how to change my birth date the first time I sat on hold and so I had to call them.  Again.

Finally this time it appears the monkeys Coventry hired have learned how to differentiate between a 3 and a 4 on the keyboard.  So the med unit submits the prescription again and Coventry denies the claim.

Can you tell my why it was so freaking important that you had my birth date correct if you were going to deny the claim anyway?

At this point it's November.  I see the claim is denied and I assume that means I should be getting the prescription and a bill.

Last week I got a letter in the mail.  I have to provide payment information before I can get my prescription.

So tonight, after I finally get through to a human being who WON'T STOP TALKING, I give her my credit card number and she tells me how much this prescription for the malady that exists in the country where we live because of my husband's employer, who will only pay for the cheap drugs that have shitty side-effects, is going to cost me every three months.

$479.

So you choose.  Malaria; depression, nightmares, inability to fall into a deep sleep; nausea, intense heartburn, complete and utter irregularity; or $479 every three months.

Merry Freaking Christmas.

holy mountain

Our last day in Obudu we didn't have much time.  We had to get on the road fairly early to make sure we got back to Abuja before dark.  The drive is only supposed to take six and a half hours and we'd gotten better directions for the way back from the people at the resort, but we wanted to leave a little room just in case.

We had just enough time to visit "Holy Mountain," from where you could see the border of Cameroon.  The bellhop at the resort incidentally doubled as our tour guide.  He promised, "20 minutes there.  16 minutes to take pictures and 20 minutes back."  What if we want 17 minutes to take pictures?

So we all hopped in the car with the bellhop riding shotgun.  He led us up a road that was more grass than anything else, and after a short, slow drive we arrived at the top of Holy Mountain.  (When asked what made the mountain holy, the bellhop answered that when the Germans invaded during WWII, the villagers were saved in that spot.  We were all fairly certain the Germans never occupied Nigeria;  I checked Wikipedia (which is always right): they didn't.)  But we were as high as the clouds, and watching them roll in and out felt like 16 minutes in heaven.  The cloud cover was actually too thick to see the border of Cameroon, but we were able to look down on a gorgeous waterfall, Cataract Falls.

On top of Holy Mountain

I'm not sure if it was originally his idea, but the bellhop suggested that if we stand in a certain spot and jump it would appear in a photograph as though we were moving from one mountain to another.  This inspired much silly jumping and even more giggling.  It also resulted in some hilarious pictures, which I include here gratuitously.

A belly shot, no less.

After returning the bellhop to the resort, we started the long drive home.  Along the way we passed fruit stand after fruit stand, where we stopped to buy mangoes and oranges and papayas for 1/10th the price we'd pay in Abuja.  

We eventually reached the edge of the city, but unfortunately we did so with a thousand other cars at the same time.  The traffic was so bad it took an extra two hours to actually get into town, during which all six of us almost drowned we had to pee so bad.  Joey almost strangled me when I told him I'd kill him if he stopped the car to pee by the side of the road (I'm sorry, I don't have that luxury.  I have to wait an extra five minutes to pee because you can't hold it?  I don't think so).  After this lady-like litany, O. handed Joey an empty bottle of water.  The laughter made it hurt even more.  

We reached the restaurant in Abuja and were finally able to "ease" ourselves (as they say here).  Our trip was over, but the memories and friendships we built will last a lifetime. 

Click here for the link to all of my pictures from the trip.

born this way

I heard Lady Gaga's "Born this Way" on the radio last night.  Ironically enough, Nigeria recently outlawed homosexuality.

Dear all members of all legislative bodies across the world, don't you have anything more important to worry about than what gay people are doing?  Can't we just let them be?

But considering my pop culturally-inept husband didn't know what the song is about, the people at the radio station probably don't know what it's about either.