Things I learned today:

• Elephants’ tongues are incredibly smooth and slippery.
• An elephant that is slightly taller than me weighs more than 2 tons.
• Elephants that die a natural death usually die of starvation. Their teeth fall out and they can’t eat. That seems like a horrible way to die.
• Lion cubs will let you pet them when they’re small. I was worried about getting eaten. They’re wild, after all.
• Giraffes have the same number of bones in their necks as humans, seven.
• If they think you’ve got food, ostriches will peck the heck out of you. It can hurt.

Most of the time, I love surprises. Not so much on this trip.

While washing my hair (in the bath tub, the shower not only floods, it has no hot water), I reached over to grab some of the hotel provided conditioner. It smelled vaguely familiar, like a summer’s evening in the south. I waited the requisite two minutes for said conditioner to condition, then tossed my head under the faucet to begin the rinse process. Except it didn’t. Rinse, that is. I tried again. Once again the viscous substance clung to each strand of my hair, refusing to rinse.

I picked up the bottle, thinking maybe there was a special trick to getting it to rinse. Oh. Not conditioner. Insect repellent lotion. With citronella. That familiar smell of summer nights in order to ward off mosquitoes. Well, as least I won’t get bitten…

Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping!”

I sleepily peeped at my clock. It was 6:34. AM. I rolled over.

Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping!”

I sat up in bed. “Yes?” I yelled.

Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping!”

I heaved myself from under the oh-so-heavy, oh-so-warm, oh-so-I-don’t-want-to-leave you duvet. I reluctantly slid my feet into my flip flops and shuffled to the door.

“Yes?”

Silence. Interesting thing about this hotel. If staff knock at the door, they won’t speak to you until you open the door. I opened the door.

“Good morning, madam! You have the iron?”

I stared at her. Was she asking me if I had the iron, or I wanted the iron? What did it matter, the answer to both was no.

“No,” I said sleepily as I shook my head.

“You do not have the iron?”

Now I’m wondering why a hotel with 40 rooms only has one iron. Surely there is a misuse of an article happening here.

“No, I do not have the iron.”

“You really do not have the iron?”

“No, I really do not.”

She appeared completely perplexed, not sure what to do next. She looked at me, then with utter amazement said, “You were sleeping?”

Yes, I was sleeping. Which I don’t find that hard to fathom, considering it’s 6:30 in the morning. Yes, it’s light outside, but still. Yes, I requested a wake up call, from your establishment, at 7:15. Which would indicate that I would be sleeping until that point in time.

I smiled and simply replied, “Yes.”

“Rest well!” and she was off.

I returned to my room and this letter greeted me:

To Our Esteemed Guest,

We would like to apologize for the constant flooding of the shower areas that you may be experiencing. In the meantime, we advise the use of the bath tub.

By Management

One of our in-country staff had made the reservation for me. It was a new hotel whose tag line was “Stay Healthy!” I was somewhat excited about this prospect. A hotel with a gym facility certainly wouldn’t hurt me at this point in my trip.

As I was checking in, the desk attendant offered me a complimentary medical exam. It was part of the “Stay Healthy!” promotion — blood pressure, blood tests, lung capacity, etc. I respectfully declined. For the most part, I avoid needles. Getting blood drawn in a makeshift hotel room cum doctor’s office in Lusaka, Zambia, just didn’t appeal to me. She presented me with a sheet of paper. There was a lot of fine print and a place for my signature at the bottom.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“In our commitment to healthy living, we require all guests to sign a waiver stating they will not consume any alcohol or tobacco products during their stay here.”

I looked at her, expecting her to say, “Just kidding!” She didn’t.

“Please sign, ma’am.”

I knew most of the hotels were booked solid because of Laura Bush’s visit that week. I knew that I really enjoyed a glass of wine with dinner after a hard day’s work. I smiled and signed the waiver. I just traveled 25,000 miles to check myself into detox.

“We wish you a pleasant visit and stay healthy!” she proclaimed.

I arrived to the lodge for dinner. James, my host, took me on the deck. In a lovely, barely susceptible English accent he said, “Here, let me adjust the telescope. Jupiter is quite bright tonight – you can see the planet and most of its moons.” He stepped aside and motioned for me to look. I was speechless at the sight before me. Even without the telescope, the evening sky left me dumbstruck. Layers upon layers of stars twinkled brightly in the sky. The Milky Way cast an opaque net over the black expanse.

Dinner was dish after dish of scrumptious flavors presented before me. Bobotie, a traditional Afrikaans dish, was the main course. Sweet pumpkin and creamy spinach accompanied it. Cilla brought me tipsy tart for dessert. As I was eating, James brought me a glass of fresh strawberry sorbet resting on a plate surrounded by delicate rose petals. The beauty of it stunned me. The deep, crystal clear red of the sorbet contrasted with the delicate pink of the petals. I ate each bite slowly, savoring, peering out over the expanse of the valley.

We gathered on the couch for an after dinner drink. As we were sipping and chatting, James enthusiastically, though silently, insisted we come to the deck. There, just feet away, four wild zebras were grazing. The five of us humans stood still. We watched in silence as the zebras bumped each other, grazed, and brayed, oblivious to our wonderment.

One of the reasons I chose to escape to Cape Town for the weekend was to distance myself from the pervasive violent crime in Johannesburg and Pretoria. I had been told to visit Cape Town, the most beautiful city in South Africa.

My taxi driver from the Cape Town airport told me how he had just gotten out of a 13-month stay in the hospital because 4 passengers tried to kill him as part of a gang initiation. We then pulled up to my hotel, where police had cordoned off the area because a robber had taken a bank employee hostage right around the corner. While driving down to Cape Point (the southernmost point of the Cape of Good Hope), the guy sitting beside me on the bus (another American) told me how he had just been a victim of an attempted mugging right before he got on the bus.

So much for safety.