<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763</id><updated>2011-11-28T02:18:03.935+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The great big wide world and me</title><subtitle type='html'>Here are my thoughts about life and where I am in the world at the moment. It may sound glamorous but really I'm just living my life...currently in Zimbabwe. But who knows where I'll be next...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>124</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6334200672168085732</id><published>2010-11-20T16:08:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T19:29:18.096+02:00</updated><title type='text'>30 years</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;July 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a milestone. I've never feared it, only looked forward to it. Being 30 means so many things - my thirties are supposed to be better than my twenties, and I'm certainly excited about that but this specific birthday was certainly not the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We had only had Leelu for barely one day but I wanted to go out for a walk with her. Went out, brought my phone and within the ten minutes we were gone, I some how lost my phone and despite my efforts, it was no where to be found. I was a mess, tears all over the place and me kicking myself for being so irresponsible. And it was my birthday so that meant I couldn't get any fun text messages or phone calls. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we gathered with a small group of people at one of the nicest restaurants in town, Amanzi, and the evening truly was great. Good conversation and good dessert - all I could ask for really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXskNhUOI/AAAAAAAAOzI/iwdwzUOTQ2g/s1600/tyler%2Bursual%2Bjosh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXskNhUOI/AAAAAAAAOzI/iwdwzUOTQ2g/s320/tyler%2Bursual%2Bjosh.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541635027137286370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXitgPaXI/AAAAAAAAOy4/Hm9kEewYOTU/s1600/laura.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXitgPaXI/AAAAAAAAOy4/Hm9kEewYOTU/s320/laura.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541634857833032050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXh2AYbeI/AAAAAAAAOyo/9C8-Jdc7sTo/s1600/courtney%2Brachel%2Bkirstine.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXh2AYbeI/AAAAAAAAOyo/9C8-Jdc7sTo/s320/courtney%2Brachel%2Bkirstine.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541634842935455202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXsmRZ3JI/AAAAAAAAOzA/133gRSEirHE/s1600/silly.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXsmRZ3JI/AAAAAAAAOzA/133gRSEirHE/s320/silly.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541635027690445970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXhZNJSzI/AAAAAAAAOyg/ZACe_3v7K3E/s1600/christy%2B%2526%2Bjason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXhZNJSzI/AAAAAAAAOyg/ZACe_3v7K3E/s320/christy%2B%2526%2Bjason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541634835204361010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXiF4uE5I/AAAAAAAAOyw/IP2KMkIaBV4/s1600/dessert.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXiF4uE5I/AAAAAAAAOyw/IP2KMkIaBV4/s320/dessert.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541634847198286738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfYUMVY_BI/AAAAAAAAOzQ/VLktDHF_mKQ/s1600/birthday%2Bpresents.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfYUMVY_BI/AAAAAAAAOzQ/VLktDHF_mKQ/s320/birthday%2Bpresents.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541635707922611218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6334200672168085732?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6334200672168085732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6334200672168085732' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6334200672168085732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6334200672168085732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/11/30-years.html' title='30 years'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfXskNhUOI/AAAAAAAAOzI/iwdwzUOTQ2g/s72-c/tyler%2Bursual%2Bjosh.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8982164792918199678</id><published>2010-11-20T15:18:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T19:31:12.772+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Leelu!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;July 12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOUIY5tGI/AAAAAAAAOxo/1qysEDP-l90/s1600/leelu%2Bcute.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOUIY5tGI/AAAAAAAAOxo/1qysEDP-l90/s320/leelu%2Bcute.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541624711747318882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We got a dog! We talked about it for so long and kept telling ourselves that once we had a little more security, we would get one. It's all I could think about and my 30th birthday was coming up so we decided now (then) was as good a time as any. 2 days before my big day, we went out to the Friends Animal Foundation to check out their puppies. There were tons of dogs at the gate to greet us when we showed up and a fat cat even tried to stow away in the car. When it came time to pick one, I froze. All of a sudden the decision seemed overwhelming. I've never had a dog in my life and all of sudden this huge feeling of responsibility came crashing down and I didn't know what to do. Thank God Jason was there - he took one look at me and saw the tears welling up in my eyes and made the decision. He found the cutest one, with the strongest personality and said we'll take her. And she's the best thing to happen to us this year (well, besides getting married). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOuQxK3WI/AAAAAAAAOxw/ktqkBLIu2Ko/s1600/leelu%2Bcar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOuQxK3WI/AAAAAAAAOxw/ktqkBLIu2Ko/s320/leelu%2Bcar.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541625160673189218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOSOHdkhI/AAAAAAAAOxI/x1jHDO62t78/s1600/leelu%2Bwhere.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOSOHdkhI/AAAAAAAAOxI/x1jHDO62t78/s320/leelu%2Bwhere.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541624678925046290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOT4iX6QI/AAAAAAAAOxg/8W9e00w5vns/s1600/leelu%2Beating.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOT4iX6QI/AAAAAAAAOxg/8W9e00w5vns/s320/leelu%2Beating.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541624707492079874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On the ride home we tried out a bunch of different names but the one that stuck was Leelu. My favorite movie is The 5th Element and when Jason suggested it, it just seemed perfect. Leelu Multipass Rosenfeld&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOwleEGmI/AAAAAAAAOyQ/9PGXrHIcnnU/s1600/jason%2B%2526%2Bleelu.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOwleEGmI/AAAAAAAAOyQ/9PGXrHIcnnU/s320/jason%2B%2526%2Bleelu.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541625200589937250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOwJ-ZhZI/AAAAAAAAOyI/B506EfLlO_0/s1600/jason%2B%2526%2Bleelu2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOwJ-ZhZI/AAAAAAAAOyI/B506EfLlO_0/s320/jason%2B%2526%2Bleelu2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541625193209365906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOv2LbF8I/AAAAAAAAOyA/8ZEWUqLlnNs/s1600/leelu%2Bblanket.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOv2LbF8I/AAAAAAAAOyA/8ZEWUqLlnNs/s320/leelu%2Bblanket.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541625187895285698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOSgt1_SI/AAAAAAAAOxQ/fvJ6hP2huYw/s1600/leelu%2Btiny.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOSgt1_SI/AAAAAAAAOxQ/fvJ6hP2huYw/s320/leelu%2Btiny.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541624683917868322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOvVEMUZI/AAAAAAAAOx4/aQUJ_kueez8/s1600/leelu%2Bblanket2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOvVEMUZI/AAAAAAAAOx4/aQUJ_kueez8/s320/leelu%2Bblanket2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541625179006587282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Getting warm after her first bath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOTCQ_uRI/AAAAAAAAOxY/N71FBLchxVY/s1600/leelu%2Bsneak%2Battack.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOTCQ_uRI/AAAAAAAAOxY/N71FBLchxVY/s320/leelu%2Bsneak%2Battack.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541624692923676946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Naughty! She's not supposed to be on the bed and snuck up there when I wasn't looking. So cute, it was hard to get mad at her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8982164792918199678?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8982164792918199678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8982164792918199678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8982164792918199678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8982164792918199678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/11/leelu.html' title='Leelu!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfOUIY5tGI/AAAAAAAAOxo/1qysEDP-l90/s72-c/leelu%2Bcute.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3321282496373734861</id><published>2010-11-20T15:03:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T15:14:47.885+02:00</updated><title type='text'>FRIENDS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Finally, after way too many months, we found a solid group of people that we quickly determined were going to be our good friends here in Zim. HIFA was the turning point for us and it drastically changed our quality of life. Having genuinely good people to hang out with and relate to makes a huge difference in truly enjoying a place you ultimately call home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are quite a few restaurants to try out in Zim, most being mediocre at best but it's something fun to do. Dinners out with a group of friends is a multiple hour affair (as it should be) and more often than not, we are the last group sitting around a table at 10:30, while the entire restaurant staff tries not to show their impatience when all they want to do is close up shop and go home. There are a few ethnic restaurants that people operate our of their homes - a sketchy Thai place and delicious Ethiopian spot run by a very sweet woman, who offers a full menu plus the traditional coffee ceremony at the end, complete with popcorn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH2Lbs2_I/AAAAAAAAOww/47SCTkB-cso/s1600/nardos%2Bcoffee%2Bceremony.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH2Lbs2_I/AAAAAAAAOww/47SCTkB-cso/s320/nardos%2Bcoffee%2Bceremony.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617600098524146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH1yzHjNI/AAAAAAAAOwo/vzjKCXgWpzQ/s1600/ethiopian%2Bfood.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH1yzHjNI/AAAAAAAAOwo/vzjKCXgWpzQ/s320/ethiopian%2Bfood.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617593485855954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH2s3FO5I/AAAAAAAAOw4/dTrpQpQgCFw/s1600/rachel%2Bdebbie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH2s3FO5I/AAAAAAAAOw4/dTrpQpQgCFw/s320/rachel%2Bdebbie.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617609071737746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Rachel and Debbie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHjr_hqrI/AAAAAAAAOwg/EMXwoIHvyTw/s1600/kirstine%2Band%2Bme.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHjr_hqrI/AAAAAAAAOwg/EMXwoIHvyTw/s320/kirstine%2Band%2Bme.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617282421205682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Kirstine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH3JblQEI/AAAAAAAAOxA/Oxq9xpdxHB0/s1600/sam%2Bsofia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH3JblQEI/AAAAAAAAOxA/Oxq9xpdxHB0/s320/sam%2Bsofia.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617616741023810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sam and Sofia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As there isn't much to actually do in Harare, we end up hanging out at people's houses a lot. Despite winter being under way, we hosted a few Friday night braais (BBQ's to those who don't know the lingo) and a Sunday brunch, just to enjoy hanging out with good people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHjGUbfZI/AAAAAAAAOwY/Ev1sDD-WQVc/s1600/late%2Bnight%2Bbraai.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHjGUbfZI/AAAAAAAAOwY/Ev1sDD-WQVc/s320/late%2Bnight%2Bbraai.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617272308333970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Craig trying to pierce Rachel's tongue...she lost a bet about baked beans...there may have been alcohol involved!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHiZuFmjI/AAAAAAAAOwI/e7SROI2sufc/s1600/josh%2Bursual.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHiZuFmjI/AAAAAAAAOwI/e7SROI2sufc/s320/josh%2Bursual.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617260336355890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ursula and Josh...they're now engaged!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHiGOLClI/AAAAAAAAOwA/G1rPorTU40s/s1600/will%2Bleila.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHiGOLClI/AAAAAAAAOwA/G1rPorTU40s/s320/will%2Bleila.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617255102220882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Will and Leila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHi5FKVOI/AAAAAAAAOwQ/zed-wH1ryuE/s1600/courtney%2Bchristy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfHi5FKVOI/AAAAAAAAOwQ/zed-wH1ryuE/s320/courtney%2Bchristy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541617268754633954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Courtney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3321282496373734861?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3321282496373734861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3321282496373734861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3321282496373734861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3321282496373734861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/11/friends.html' title='FRIENDS!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOfH2Lbs2_I/AAAAAAAAOww/47SCTkB-cso/s72-c/nardos%2Bcoffee%2Bceremony.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8172925243587883740</id><published>2010-11-20T13:30:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T14:05:04.373+02:00</updated><title type='text'>June</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Heather and Theresa finished their Peace Corps tour and traveled to Mozambique, Malawi and ended their COS trip in Zimbabwe, hanging out with us. We toured all the cafes in Harare (the most exciting thing to do in Harare) while Jason worked and had some delicious food at Doon Estates (a nice but expensive place to shop). Monkeys will always fascinate us but someone recently equated them to the squirrels we have at home…good analogy but still, monkeys are way more exotic and fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4hXarSUI/AAAAAAAAOvw/WaJfqmPfzIY/s1600/doon%2Bfood.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4hXarSUI/AAAAAAAAOvw/WaJfqmPfzIY/s320/doon%2Bfood.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541600749863782722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4KP7BKUI/AAAAAAAAOvg/8SOcSfLmx6E/s1600/heather%2Btherese%2Bmonkey.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4KP7BKUI/AAAAAAAAOvg/8SOcSfLmx6E/s320/heather%2Btherese%2Bmonkey.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541600352714959170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4JZCx1jI/AAAAAAAAOvY/VCGyq8W6AUs/s1600/monkey%2Bsquirrels.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4JZCx1jI/AAAAAAAAOvY/VCGyq8W6AUs/s320/monkey%2Bsquirrels.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541600337983559218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We took a weekend trip to visit the Great Zimbabwe - the stone ruins that have been around since 1100AD. Many skeptic Rhodesians will tell you that there is no way the black Zimbabweans built it but that is just evidence of how deep the racism/hate goes…we've been apart of many of those conversations and it's exhausting. So much so that we eventually had to distance ourselves from those type of people to avoid those types of conversations. It's a shame. Anyway, the ruins are really cool and an interesting Must-See if visiting Zimbabwe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3sWIHPqI/AAAAAAAAOvQ/JgKHA_BpuJs/s1600/great%2Bzim%2Bstart.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3sWIHPqI/AAAAAAAAOvQ/JgKHA_BpuJs/s320/great%2Bzim%2Bstart.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599838984421026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3sL40jCI/AAAAAAAAOvI/lkDIM3-mEXw/s1600/caution.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3sL40jCI/AAAAAAAAOvI/lkDIM3-mEXw/s320/caution.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599836235926562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3rvQxbBI/AAAAAAAAOvA/FIQhken_pqc/s1600/jason%2Bwalking%2Bup.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3rvQxbBI/AAAAAAAAOvA/FIQhken_pqc/s320/jason%2Bwalking%2Bup.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599828551756818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe5A0Yk-LI/AAAAAAAAOv4/1tTrRv2fG2M/s1600/me%2Band%2Bjason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe5A0Yk-LI/AAAAAAAAOv4/1tTrRv2fG2M/s320/me%2Band%2Bjason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541601290215553202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3KVTVLDI/AAAAAAAAOuw/YbQJRxoWf4E/s1600/me%2Brocks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3KVTVLDI/AAAAAAAAOuw/YbQJRxoWf4E/s320/me%2Brocks.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599254647483442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3I7tNYGI/AAAAAAAAOuQ/hR8E7KHuPCo/s1600/walls%2Band%2Bstone.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3I7tNYGI/AAAAAAAAOuQ/hR8E7KHuPCo/s320/walls%2Band%2Bstone.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599230596833378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3JXkVjXI/AAAAAAAAOuY/hJsG52Fqg3w/s1600/view.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3JXkVjXI/AAAAAAAAOuY/hJsG52Fqg3w/s320/view.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599238075813234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3JjIkKXI/AAAAAAAAOug/YcQLg2n2X0E/s1600/rock%2Bwalls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3JjIkKXI/AAAAAAAAOug/YcQLg2n2X0E/s320/rock%2Bwalls.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599241180555634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3Jw_tD5I/AAAAAAAAOuo/0OC_sm-SgVQ/s1600/monkey%2Bwall.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe3Jw_tD5I/AAAAAAAAOuo/0OC_sm-SgVQ/s320/monkey%2Bwall.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541599244901486482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was a fun weekend and it was great having the girls around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8172925243587883740?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8172925243587883740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8172925243587883740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8172925243587883740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8172925243587883740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/11/june.html' title='June'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOe4hXarSUI/AAAAAAAAOvw/WaJfqmPfzIY/s72-c/doon%2Bfood.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2590554355581158465</id><published>2010-11-20T13:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T13:30:30.988+02:00</updated><title type='text'>where to begin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I don't even know where to begin. I just looked at my blog and realized that the last post was from May! There were 2 posts that I had written and never managed to get up so I just posted those but it's shameful really. So much has happened since May, it's hard to know even where to start. But I have some time on my hands so I'm going to get those who are interested, caught up on the last 6 months of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2590554355581158465?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2590554355581158465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2590554355581158465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2590554355581158465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2590554355581158465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/11/where-to-begin.html' title='where to begin...'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5481454834692147259</id><published>2010-05-10T13:21:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T13:30:00.213+02:00</updated><title type='text'>HIFA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Harare International Festival of the Arts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They hold this event every year and Jason and I were lucky enough to get back from South Africa in time to catch a few of the shows. I was excited to see the opening which was a multimedia production of Carmina Burana (my favorite opera) but I got the dates wrong and completely missed it. We saw a lot of music shows and while Jason was busy working, I was able to hang out at the festival and catch some of the free shows and a play that I'm not convinced was that good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Prince Edward Jazz Band played a few times on the free stage and they were actually pretty good - definitely could jam and had a nice sound! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2YWovAI/AAAAAAAAOuA/yXOSP_NzxfM/s1600/prince%2Bedward%2Bjazz%2Bband.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2YWovAI/AAAAAAAAOuA/yXOSP_NzxfM/s320/prince%2Bedward%2Bjazz%2Bband.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541591215287876610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;These guys are from Austria, the one is playing the bass clarinet and the other is playing a funny new instrument called the 'Hang' (pronounced hung). It was invented in Switzerland in 2000 based on years of research on different drums and similar instruments. It has a metallic sound and the 2 instruments together compliment each other nicely. My favorite piece was a cover of Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2BkqHYI/AAAAAAAAOt4/wrSIiZRjdPw/s1600/austrian%2Bhang.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2BkqHYI/AAAAAAAAOt4/wrSIiZRjdPw/s320/austrian%2Bhang.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541591209172671874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We hung out with our new friends Chrissy and Marc and their little cutie Isaac while we watched the Magnets - an acapella group that includes a guy who beat boxes, which is always impressive. The show was a little bit cheesy but fun to see something different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev1xSOFLI/AAAAAAAAOtw/X7TOdytQ_pI/s1600/new%2Bfriends.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev1xSOFLI/AAAAAAAAOtw/X7TOdytQ_pI/s320/new%2Bfriends.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541591204800369842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2x_XiJI/AAAAAAAAOuI/gQnRFnYXgfE/s1600/hanging%2Bat%2Bhifa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2x_XiJI/AAAAAAAAOuI/gQnRFnYXgfE/s320/hanging%2Bat%2Bhifa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541591222169602194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We also saw a really good Australian pianist and the Spanish group Los Atlanticos, who put on a fun show full of music I could shake my hips to. The final show was Salif Keta but the lines were insane and we decided to listen to the album Jason already had on his iPod while we drove home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was a great festival and I can't wait to see more plays and some of the operas as well next year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5481454834692147259?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5481454834692147259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5481454834692147259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5481454834692147259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5481454834692147259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/05/hifa.html' title='HIFA'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/TOev2YWovAI/AAAAAAAAOuA/yXOSP_NzxfM/s72-c/prince%2Bedward%2Bjazz%2Bband.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-63342645057060779</id><published>2010-05-07T13:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T13:21:11.099+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Beitbridge Border Crossings...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We've now been through the South African/Zimbabwean border at Beitbridge a grand total of 5 times. Two of those times could be considered nightmares, one a headache and the others a breeze. I seriously hope I don't have to experience it a fifth time because 5 times is more than enough for any person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Border Crossing #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Last year when we crossed through to Zimbabwe for the first time, we were driving Jason's bosses old land cruiser (the beast as some of you may know her) and it hadn't been home in at least 7 years so we had to pay a hefty duty to get her across the border. This delayed the process but not actually anything to stress about - the money spent was going to be reimbursed so we really didn't have to worry. There is a Holiday Inn just across the Zim side so we were able to sleep for the night and save navigating the crazy bad roads until the day light hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Border Crossing #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When we had to jump the border (before we realized that going to Immigration to extend our visa is actually super easy) in order to sort our visa situation out, we thought we had everything covered. We had the beast re-registered in Harare, the insurance was sorted, nothing to worry about…oh if only that were the case. Little did we know that you had to have a Police Clearance to get the vehicle out of Zimbabwe. And that is exactly what we didn't have. Everything was going smoothly and we even dared to smile at each other thinking we were golden but then we got stopped at the vehicle check point where we were supposed to present the police clearance. The "police" (quotes used because no one was in uniform and I'm not sure they had any authority what so ever) said that we had to go back to Harare to get the clearance. We couldn't do it in Beitbridge town. We'd already been stamped out and our visa was expired so that wasn't an option. The other option was to leave the beast and walk across the border. Hell no, that wasn't an option either because we hadn't packed light since we were driving - there was no way I was going to walk across with all the bags we had! It was a horrible feeling of being completely and utterly stuck  with no viable options being presented. We already knew that if we paid them a bribe it would fix the situation easily but that wasn't an option in our minds. There was no way we were going to give in to that horrible system. I stayed out of it because I wasn't in the mood to deal with these particular people because all they saw when they looked at us were huge dollar signs and had no sympathy for our situation. Jason tried sweet talking with no luck. Finally after 3 hours of waiting and hoping, it was clear what we needed to do to resolve the problem. And sad to say, we paid our first (and only) bribe. It's a horrible and dirty feeling when you are completely at the mercy of people who don't actually see you as a fellow human being that is in a bind, but instead only see a person that because of their skin color must have lots of money. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Despite finally getting out of that situation, we still had to face the South African border and by this time, all the daily busses had come through and now were cuing at SA immigration. The line was easily 500 people deep and stretching across the bridge when we finally drove up. Yet another horrible feeling, realizing that we still had to drive an hour, it's already 5:30pm and we clearly aren't getting out of this line any time soon. I'm in a terrible mood at this point and while Jason goes to stand in the line, I fiddle about in the car and notice that there is another line that people are just flying through. When I asked a police officer what that was all about, he said it was the SA residents line - but if you had a work permit you could use that line as well. I didn't have a work permit but Jason did, so we switched, he took my passport and went through that line while I waited in the cue just in case that didn't work. When Jason got to the desk, they stamped him no problem and despite the woman behind the desk being in a wicked mood, she also stamped my passport as well. I never stepped foot inside the building! There was a bit of mercy to this day and we managed to get out of the horde of people in less than an hour and on the road to the B&amp;amp;B. Probably the most disastrous Beitbridge Border crossing to date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Border Crossing #3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Coming back across the border after our few days in Louis Trichardt was actually very easy. Nothing to stress about and there weren't long lines. A sigh of relief after the horrible debacle just a few days before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Border Crossing #4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This time we were prepared. We were heading back to South Africa so Jason could work for a few weeks  in Cape Town and we could finally pick up all of our stuff from the various locations and bring it all back to Zim. We were actually driving a new Landrover (newer than the beast but still quite old) but we made sure to have all the paperwork sorted and the police clearance as well as a letter from the org saying we had permission to drive it, just in case. We made it to the border mid dayish and despite some cues, going through the Zim side and the SA side was really easy. We even managed to make it all the way down to Pretoria from Harare in one day. 15 hours in the car but we managed not to get too bored with each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Border Crossing #5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After driving all over the country (literally from Pretoria to Cape Town to Durban back to Pretoria then the border), picking up a TON of weight (a trailer almost the size of the vehicle that we were taking back to Zim filled with work stuff, not to mention our stuff that filled the back of the Landrover) we made it back to Beitbridge for what we have deemed as our last crossing. We arrived on a Monday evening, thinking we could make it across and driver another hour to a nice B&amp;amp;B down the road. Completely forgot that Tuesday was going to be a holiday in SA so every single Zimbabwean was taking the opportunity to go home for 24 hour period and were already cued up at the border. The lines were ridiculous, worse than I could have ever imagined. I stayed in the truck and creeped up the line of cars while Jason braved the line of people weaving out of the building down the sidewalk. He managed to jump the cue with some assistance and by the time I made it to the front of the line of cars, he was mostly done. However, I found out I was in the wrong line of cars - I was surrounded by tons of small cars and to the left was the line of trucks with trailers. Oops. I played sweet and apologized since I really had no idea which way I was supposed to go anyway. The gentlemen were nice but I had to wait a bit before driving through to the inspection area. Once there, we realized there were still a few lines we had to go through in order to process the paperwork for the TV were bringing back for some friends. That tacked on another hour and some irritation but finally all papers were signed and we were on our way to cross the border. Right as we were about to cross through the final gate, we were stopped by officers in plain clothes. I doubted their officialness, demanded their identification and then was quieted down by Jason who was able to smooth over the situation. The thought of unloading the entire truck/trailer just made me want to cry but he was able to get out of it, especially once the "officers" realized we weren't going to give them any money. Thank God for Jason's patience when mine runs out. We're a good team like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-63342645057060779?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/63342645057060779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=63342645057060779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/63342645057060779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/63342645057060779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/05/beitbridge-border-crossings.html' title='Beitbridge Border Crossings...'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6443170427845095433</id><published>2010-05-03T10:51:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T11:05:45.283+02:00</updated><title type='text'>MAIL!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We got our first piece of Mail today! So exciting! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_ieeVtdzI/AAAAAAAAOOg/UeA-KCpbfxI/s1600/mail.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_ieeVtdzI/AAAAAAAAOOg/UeA-KCpbfxI/s320/mail.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467337485819148082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_ieLGLVZI/AAAAAAAAOOY/a-SM2rdaEvg/s1600/me+and+mail.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_ieLGLVZI/AAAAAAAAOOY/a-SM2rdaEvg/s320/me+and+mail.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467337480653723026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thanks Ann Marie (Jason's mom) for sending new taco recipes. We didn't try it out tonight because I was trying another new recipe (that we also had all the key ingredients for). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_id4uE8YI/AAAAAAAAOOQ/QqpDCnqGYFo/s1600/light+sesame+chicken.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_id4uE8YI/AAAAAAAAOOQ/QqpDCnqGYFo/s320/light+sesame+chicken.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467337475720802690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Light Sesame Chicken - chicken coated with egg whites and corn starch, the sauce made with honey and soy sauce and you're supposed to use brown rice but we didn't have any. And instead of steamed broccoli, we had steamed green beans - again, using what I had on hand (which isn't much at the moment).  Very delicious and something fun and new to try. Thank you Martha Stewart online.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6443170427845095433?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6443170427845095433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6443170427845095433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6443170427845095433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6443170427845095433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/05/mail.html' title='MAIL!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9_ieeVtdzI/AAAAAAAAOOg/UeA-KCpbfxI/s72-c/mail.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4458238093807495082</id><published>2010-04-26T15:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:55:37.674+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's been slow going meeting people in Zim. We have found a few people to hang out with but honestly, I have missed Jamie and Justin a lot. They are the type of friends where the conversation is always flowing, going from the silly and ridiculous to the serious and thought provoking. We like to camp and hike and cook and just enjoy each other's company. We hadn't spent quality time with them since last October (that fateful night that we ended getting robbed at the backpackers). We were over due, desperately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After leaving Durban and picking up the stuff we left in Ixopo, we made it to Pietermaritzburg to Jamie's new flat. She cooked us dinner and we chatted until past midnight, even after the beds were made and we were tucked in, the conversation wouldn't stop. We finally just had to cut ourselves off and promise to continue in the morning. Friday, Jason stayed back to work so Jamie and I went out to run errands and shop. More talking, catching up on the last few months and life and where we are in it at this moment. We had a nice lunch, bought a TV (for friends back in Zim) and bedding, along with a few other bits and pieces. To top it off, we bought ice cream cones and got a lot of funny looks as we walked through the mall with a huge 32" flat screen (I wished it really was mine at this point) in a trolly, licking our cones at 2 in the afternoon - completely indulgent! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Justin arrived around 5 and more conversations started. They treated us to a very nice dinner at a Thai food restaurant - a belated wedding present, which included a bottle of wine and some seed packets so we can start our garden in Zim. We were planning on leaving the next morning so we could have a day to rest before the 2 day drive back to Zim but we were easily convinced to stay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saturday was one of the best days I've had in a really long time. We lolled around the apartment for a bit then managed to get ourselves together to pick up my computer (plug problem) and get take away food from this place called Kari Nicha's - Indian briyani and roti rolls. They don’t have any seating so we found some fields were a college field hockey tournament was in full gear. We plopped down and joined the crowd, not knowing anything about the sport or any of the girls. A little frisbee to run off the good food then out to the Midlands Meander to…meander.  Coffee, tea and sweats then off to a micro brewery for some good beer and a delicious meal.  A day choc full of things to do and good people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VdXafCrI/AAAAAAAAOOE/0HAqPj1do-U/s1600/jamie+%26+christy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VdXafCrI/AAAAAAAAOOE/0HAqPj1do-U/s320/jamie+%26+christy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467041698152385202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VczkyqaI/AAAAAAAAON8/LCcIrt94mjw/s1600/jason+close+up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VczkyqaI/AAAAAAAAON8/LCcIrt94mjw/s320/jason+close+up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467041688531937698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VcM7ZggI/AAAAAAAAON0/fjyqMmL_6-o/s1600/me+and+jason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VcM7ZggI/AAAAAAAAON0/fjyqMmL_6-o/s320/me+and+jason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467041678157775362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Vb-P_3OI/AAAAAAAAONs/H01gR68G1aw/s1600/jamie+and+justin.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Vb-P_3OI/AAAAAAAAONs/H01gR68G1aw/s320/jamie+and+justin.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467041674217643234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Vblz6R1I/AAAAAAAAONk/bCu9DWpP2Tk/s1600/best+friends.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Vblz6R1I/AAAAAAAAONk/bCu9DWpP2Tk/s320/best+friends.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467041667657385810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We left the next day and made it Pretoria where we stayed with Tommy and Leslie again - more good friends, good food and good company!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4458238093807495082?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4458238093807495082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4458238093807495082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4458238093807495082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4458238093807495082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/friends.html' title='Friends!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97VdXafCrI/AAAAAAAAOOE/0HAqPj1do-U/s72-c/jamie+%26+christy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4238327274118618215</id><published>2010-04-22T15:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:50:06.609+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Durban</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The trip from Cape Town was long and slow now that we have a trailer full of Ant &amp;amp; Juliet's stuff (Jason's bosses). Part of the agreement for letting us use the truck was that we bring back the trailer for them. It's pretty big and I was a little nervous to drive with it at first, especially on the windy, tiny, congested roads around Simonstown but low and behold, it wasn't that bad at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Once you hit the Eastern Cape, the roads become pretty bad, nothing compared to Zim of course, just lots of bad drivers and towns to drive through - and windy roads that have no passing lanes. It was a stressful day of driving but when we reached Ixopo, our friends Leona and Andrew greeted us with a bottle of tequila and dinner. It was great to see them and just relax for a bit. Surprisingly I was really excited to see Ixopo and our old home - Jason pointed out it was technically our first home together. Sheena and Tango, Nick's dogs definitely remembered us, which was also nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After a relaxing morning/afternoon, we set off for Durban, only an hour and a half away. 30 minutes into the drive we blew our front left tire. We managed to change the tire in record time and get completely covered in grease (hadn't washed the truck yet and leaking oil sprays back over everything) but still made it to Durban in time for dinner. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;While Jason attended a conference for a few days, I ran around buying new tires, getting the truck power washed and vacuumed, got my hair trimmed, read and even managed a couple hours on the beach, although it got windy and the clouds kept covering the sun so it wasn't the best. The beach front is looking gorgeous and will be stunning in time for the World Cup - they've created a really nice promenade that spans the entire length of the beach. Last time we were here, the beach was almost gone but they've done something (brought in more sand?) and that isn't a problem any more. The stadium is just about finished too and you can see it in the pic below (more of those pics to come in June). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UGRF7ECI/AAAAAAAAONc/6VJpaTMrTQU/s1600/durban+beach.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UGRF7ECI/AAAAAAAAONc/6VJpaTMrTQU/s320/durban+beach.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467040201806909474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UF0FjTNI/AAAAAAAAONU/AMSenO6fR94/s1600/durban+beach+fixing+up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UF0FjTNI/AAAAAAAAONU/AMSenO6fR94/s320/durban+beach+fixing+up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467040194020723922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We had 2 dud meals but the last night we went to dinner at Yossi's, a Mediterranean  restaurant that always gets an A+. Falafel burger with olive tapenade, creamy feta cheese and rocket (arugula). Enough said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The day we left, the conference had site visits and a couple groups visited Africa AHEAD's project on Joanna Road (Jason's organization). This is one of the bad shanty towns that has popped up in a neighborhood that has been there for awhile - with no real resources or help from the city. That changed and the city involved Africa AHEAD to run their community health clubs to promote hygiene and due to the community involvement, without anyone telling them to do so, some ladies have created gardens even where space is terribly limited. It's fun to see the fruits of his work and that the health clubs do make a difference!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFscRebI/AAAAAAAAONM/FpmUFt4E-Vc/s1600/joanna+road+garden.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFscRebI/AAAAAAAAONM/FpmUFt4E-Vc/s320/joanna+road+garden.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467040191968541106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFaWxNWI/AAAAAAAAONE/cet5BJ0ff0Q/s1600/joanna+road+garden2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFaWxNWI/AAAAAAAAONE/cet5BJ0ff0Q/s320/joanna+road+garden2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467040187113616738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFCBmUTI/AAAAAAAAOM8/jOiG6WFJz9Q/s1600/joanna+road+garden3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UFCBmUTI/AAAAAAAAOM8/jOiG6WFJz9Q/s320/joanna+road+garden3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467040180582371634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4238327274118618215?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4238327274118618215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4238327274118618215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4238327274118618215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4238327274118618215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/durban.html' title='Durban'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97UGRF7ECI/AAAAAAAAONc/6VJpaTMrTQU/s72-c/durban+beach.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6316866311019569158</id><published>2010-04-16T15:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:38:00.418+02:00</updated><title type='text'>goodbye Simonstown!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97RZQ2O2kI/AAAAAAAAOM0/482gn0mRl90/s1600/sunrise.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97RZQ2O2kI/AAAAAAAAOM0/482gn0mRl90/s320/sunrise.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467037229623728706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sunrise on the morning we set off for the other side of the country…it was hard to say goodbye to such a gorgeous view. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97RZEmLKiI/AAAAAAAAOMs/Ajv2auRZ974/s1600/ant+and+house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97RZEmLKiI/AAAAAAAAOMs/Ajv2auRZ974/s320/ant+and+house.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467037226335152674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is Ant - Jason's boss and his really fun mountain side house. We  stayed in the apartment above the garage. Not too shabby! LOVE the  thatch roof - although you have to beware of baboons in this area. Last  year the nasty little buggers ripped out half the thatched roof! The  hazards of living in Africa…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6316866311019569158?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6316866311019569158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6316866311019569158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6316866311019569158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6316866311019569158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/goodbye-simonstown.html' title='goodbye Simonstown!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97RZQ2O2kI/AAAAAAAAOM0/482gn0mRl90/s72-c/sunrise.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4829641400070926474</id><published>2010-04-11T15:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:35:23.578+02:00</updated><title type='text'>hiking table mountain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PGHqeeZI/AAAAAAAAOMk/Xwec0yEKpNk/s1600/where+we+just+hiked.JPG"&gt;Even though I have been to Cape Town a few times now, I have not done very many of the classic touristy things like going out to Robben Island or going up Table Mountain. Determined to get at least one of these things in, I convinced (very easily) Jason to hike up the mountain with me. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The cable car for those lazy folks, takes you up the face of the mountain but a lot of the nice hikes actually start off around the back, in Kirstenbosch gardens. It's a beautiful setting with loads of amazing plant life. As usual, we got a late start (it's just so hard to get out of bed early on a Saturday morning) but we managed to start our hike around 11am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Oj8_yVSI/AAAAAAAAOLk/dpoy8S-Bj8k/s1600/view+from+kirstenbosch.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Oj8_yVSI/AAAAAAAAOLk/dpoy8S-Bj8k/s320/view+from+kirstenbosch.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034114738771234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The first hour an a half is basically straight up - stair steps (mostly rock but reinforced with wood slats) and even some ladders. Jason suggested we go up the way he went with some of his friends 10 years ago, Skeleton Gorge or something ominous like that. You think that would have been a clue! It was pretty intense but knowing the straight up was only part of the hike, we managed. We weren't in any big rush so we didn't push ourselves too hard and made sure to enjoy the scenery along the way (translation: we had to stop every 5 minutes, pretend to take pictures only to catch our breath and quit panting for a moment).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97OkDFfq4I/AAAAAAAAOLs/dRiAQ7G2deE/s1600/jason+ladder.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97OkDFfq4I/AAAAAAAAOLs/dRiAQ7G2deE/s320/jason+ladder.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034116373326722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Oktu9twI/AAAAAAAAOL0/OS7VN5JehdQ/s1600/jason+ladder2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Oktu9twI/AAAAAAAAOL0/OS7VN5JehdQ/s320/jason+ladder2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034127821551362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97OmTKRI3I/AAAAAAAAOL8/gk6gZ86FjQg/s1600/steps.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97OmTKRI3I/AAAAAAAAOL8/gk6gZ86FjQg/s320/steps.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034155048051570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We ate a late lunch at the top, enjoying the view and chatting with some South Africans. It's always nice to reach the top for fantastic views!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PFc4lmiI/AAAAAAAAOMU/c8xAShZTc-k/s1600/marker.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PFc4lmiI/AAAAAAAAOMU/c8xAShZTc-k/s320/marker.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034690234194466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PFGs6HUI/AAAAAAAAOMM/qD4_kIkHcxE/s1600/jason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PFGs6HUI/AAAAAAAAOMM/qD4_kIkHcxE/s320/jason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034684279627074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PF7HR4aI/AAAAAAAAOMc/RMZfPi8P4Lw/s1600/more+view+from+top.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PF7HR4aI/AAAAAAAAOMc/RMZfPi8P4Lw/s320/more+view+from+top.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034698348880290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PE6DLLcI/AAAAAAAAOME/221Ty4I4VNY/s1600/view+from+top.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PE6DLLcI/AAAAAAAAOME/221Ty4I4VNY/s320/view+from+top.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034680883359170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The hike down was just as intense as the hike up. We went down through Nursery Ravine, which I'm not sure was the best choice. This path literally had stair steps the entire way down. Sounds great except that they are large steps and mid way down my one knee started hurting pretty bad. It only happens during serious repetition like this or on really long bike rides and usually I'll take some advil early enough and that helps but I wasn't quite as prepared this time around. For some reason I thought since it was touristy, it would be an easy hike. Not so. Plus we haven't been out hiking in a few months so our bodies aren't used to it anymore, despite our regular running routine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PGHqeeZI/AAAAAAAAOMk/Xwec0yEKpNk/s1600/where+we+just+hiked.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97PGHqeeZI/AAAAAAAAOMk/Xwec0yEKpNk/s320/where+we+just+hiked.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467034701717731730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Regardless of my knee and sore body the next day, it was definitely worth it. Time to get out and find some nice hiking in Zimbabwe!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4829641400070926474?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4829641400070926474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4829641400070926474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4829641400070926474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4829641400070926474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/hiking-table-mountain.html' title='hiking table mountain'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S97Oj8_yVSI/AAAAAAAAOLk/dpoy8S-Bj8k/s72-c/view+from+kirstenbosch.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5356067033585542055</id><published>2010-04-10T08:32:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T08:38:35.511+02:00</updated><title type='text'>beach day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;While Jason's working…I'm playing. I've managed to read and research schools, consulting and writing a business plan in the meantime, but mostly, the last few weeks have felt indulgent, which is nice. I try not to rub it in too much…that is a perk of being jobless so I'm looking on the bright side and taking advantage while I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Friday I saw dolphins, tons and tons of dolphins jumping in the water. It was amazing and motivated me to make a picnic lunch and set up shop on the beach to soak up some sun and test out the water. I tested the water up to my thighs and that was as far as I could go - I guess I got spoiled in PR because I could not handle the icy waters, even though there were plenty of others out there brave enough to do it! I enjoyed the day anyway!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9kozuOcfzI/AAAAAAAAOKc/g6m_5vwMZQY/s1600/DSCF4759.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9kozuOcfzI/AAAAAAAAOKc/g6m_5vwMZQY/s320/DSCF4759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465444491837865778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9kozXBfgQI/AAAAAAAAOKU/HwViQqeAoso/s1600/DSCF4757.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9kozXBfgQI/AAAAAAAAOKU/HwViQqeAoso/s320/DSCF4757.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465444485609521410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9koy1O9yVI/AAAAAAAAOKM/ueO-UuI8ufM/s1600/DSCF4756.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9koy1O9yVI/AAAAAAAAOKM/ueO-UuI8ufM/s320/DSCF4756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465444476539226450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9koypQIa0I/AAAAAAAAOKE/cCIS0Hi0LM8/s1600/DSCF4754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9koypQIa0I/AAAAAAAAOKE/cCIS0Hi0LM8/s320/DSCF4754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465444473322892098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5356067033585542055?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5356067033585542055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5356067033585542055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5356067033585542055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5356067033585542055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/beach-day.html' title='beach day'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9kozuOcfzI/AAAAAAAAOKc/g6m_5vwMZQY/s72-c/DSCF4759.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6297598478752634418</id><published>2010-04-09T10:55:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T11:10:12.214+02:00</updated><title type='text'>false bay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sl8nct4I/AAAAAAAAOIE/16N3YE3ZGcs/s1600/DSCF4760.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Here is the view from our window. We are staying with Jason's bosses in the A-frame apartment above their garage. Not to shabby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sk7iRLBI/AAAAAAAAOH0/Z8_1w6W-yO0/s1600/DSCF4752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sk7iRLBI/AAAAAAAAOH0/Z8_1w6W-yO0/s320/DSCF4752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458059917620489234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77slUM_8PI/AAAAAAAAOH8/PvUuT0BHi6Q/s1600/DSCF4753.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77slUM_8PI/AAAAAAAAOH8/PvUuT0BHi6Q/s320/DSCF4753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458059924242166002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is the new beast we've been driving around. Not quite as beastly or intimidating without the front grill &amp;amp; wench but still big and imposing. This guy at least has power steering and 5 gears and can climb a hill fairly decently. Although we can't get above 110 km/hour (roughly 68 mi/hr). At least we can't get caught for speeding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sl8nct4I/AAAAAAAAOIE/16N3YE3ZGcs/s1600/DSCF4760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sl8nct4I/AAAAAAAAOIE/16N3YE3ZGcs/s320/DSCF4760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458059935090521986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6297598478752634418?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6297598478752634418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6297598478752634418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6297598478752634418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6297598478752634418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/false-bay.html' title='false bay'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77sk7iRLBI/AAAAAAAAOH0/Z8_1w6W-yO0/s72-c/DSCF4752.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3505392489180296279</id><published>2010-04-08T10:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T10:55:05.848+02:00</updated><title type='text'>penguins!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We finally made it to Cape Town! We spent 15 hours in the car to get from Harare to Pretoria in one day - the border crossing was amazingly easy - it only took us 30 minutes, which is a record for us! Despite no AC or functioning radio, it wasn't a bad day. And we were greeted by our lovely friends Tommy and Lesley, who had food, wine and even chocolate covered pecans on the bedside table! We met up with our friend Heather the next day and got our start on the next leg of the journey after noon. We made it a whooping 120 kms outside of Joburg before the truck broke down. We're driving a 1990's Land Rover these days and despite having just recently been purchased, the proper maintenance wasn't done and &lt;/span&gt;the&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; gear box died on us. We broke down in the perfect spot though - we managed to find a tow company after a few different calls and were brought back to the small town of Parys (said like the last name Perez but with an 'a' - sortof, it's an Afrikaans word and I have trouble pronouncing most of them). Lucky they happened to have a guy there that works on Land Rovers and there was a guy in a town far away that refurbishes gear boxes. So after only a 2 day delay, we were back on the road by Thursday and by Friday lunch time, we were driving along the coast where we stopped at our favorite restaurant &lt;a href="http://http://kalkbay.org/component/option,com_sobi2/sobi2Task,sobi2Details/catid,8/sobi2Id,22/Itemid,28/"&gt;Olympia Cafe&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;and picked up some delicious croissants and shortbread cookies and had a little picnic over looking the bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason's busy working - that's the reason for the trip to SA. He's facilitating a workshop here and then going to a conference in Durban. Since I'm jobless, I get to tag along and have a different backdrop to do whatever it is I do to pass the time. Wednesday I took a nice walk down to Boulders Beach, which is where all the penguins hang out - you have to pay to actually go into the park but if you just walk down the road, there is a little section that has penguins chilling and you don't have to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mV-A2cOI/AAAAAAAAOHs/__zy7WYOv-0/s1600/Photo-0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mV-A2cOI/AAAAAAAAOHs/__zy7WYOv-0/s320/Photo-0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458053063517827298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mVuM8UjI/AAAAAAAAOHk/LkaaDHklWgs/s1600/Photo-0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mVuM8UjI/AAAAAAAAOHk/LkaaDHklWgs/s320/Photo-0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458053059273577010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This little guy waddled over to the gate and I think was just waiting for someone to open it so he could make his escape. They are so freaking cute! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mUzcW9pI/AAAAAAAAOHU/Rp4suWRKDhQ/s1600/Photo-0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mUzcW9pI/AAAAAAAAOHU/Rp4suWRKDhQ/s320/Photo-0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458053043500545682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mUUd3WbI/AAAAAAAAOHM/Krz85FMahv4/s1600/Photo-0007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mUUd3WbI/AAAAAAAAOHM/Krz85FMahv4/s320/Photo-0007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458053035185363378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The penguins don't just hang out on the beach, they walk up towards the road and nest in the bushes that are all around. There was a couple that had probably been camped out all day, videoing baby penguins in this one bush - I dropped down and hugged the road so I could also get a peak. They were so furry and squeaky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mVd5leaI/AAAAAAAAOHc/1LXA3-JA0uk/s1600/Photo-0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mVd5leaI/AAAAAAAAOHc/1LXA3-JA0uk/s320/Photo-0010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458053054897420706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Please note the lovely backdrop! Jason's bosses live just to the left of this shot, in a hillside thatched roof house and it's gorgeous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3505392489180296279?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3505392489180296279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3505392489180296279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3505392489180296279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3505392489180296279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/penguins.html' title='penguins!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77mV-A2cOI/AAAAAAAAOHs/__zy7WYOv-0/s72-c/Photo-0002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5667028127635025842</id><published>2010-04-04T12:31:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T12:56:31.502+02:00</updated><title type='text'>wine country</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9AqkQ3SPNI/AAAAAAAAOJ8/wg80oFbvzdc/s1600/DSCF4749.JPG"&gt;After a delayed start to the day because of a marathon running throuhg the streets of Simonstown (and a good excuse to sleep in) we managed to make our way out to Stellenbosch for some wine tasting and to meet my friend Tricia. We managed to miss an overly expensive picnic lunch (thankfully) and had lunch at Tokara instead, indulging in a nice bottle of Chenin Blanc to match the perfectly gorgeous day. The kids playing had the coolest looking gym set and over sized birds nest to play in with an amazing backdrop, although I'm sure they wouldn't have cared as long as the slide worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApeDuaziI/AAAAAAAAOJs/aY-2AAECPlE/s1600/DSCF4741.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApeDuaziI/AAAAAAAAOJs/aY-2AAECPlE/s320/DSCF4741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462911944373227042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApcwP11GI/AAAAAAAAOJc/5bi784ujbJI/s1600/DSCF4738.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApcwP11GI/AAAAAAAAOJc/5bi784ujbJI/s320/DSCF4738.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462911921964831842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApdlxbpWI/AAAAAAAAOJk/JJH9fsmB50w/s1600/DSCF4739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApdlxbpWI/AAAAAAAAOJk/JJH9fsmB50w/s320/DSCF4739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462911936332801378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9Apce5fVeI/AAAAAAAAOJU/4D2sTCEMlOg/s1600/DSCF4733.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9Apce5fVeI/AAAAAAAAOJU/4D2sTCEMlOg/s320/DSCF4733.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462911917307680226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We didn't manage to participate in any wine tasting because the tasting rooms all closed pretty early because of the season, but the travelers from afar did and that's what's important. We did walk around  Stellenbosch for a bit and Tricia and I managed to catch each other up on the past year and half. It's actually really amazing to see people from home over on this side of the world.  We ended a great day by roasting marshmallows and having smores, despite the ridiculously windy weather that cropped up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9Aqj8g72qI/AAAAAAAAOJ0/YlDIyN8jnSw/s1600/DSCF4744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9Aqj8g72qI/AAAAAAAAOJ0/YlDIyN8jnSw/s320/DSCF4744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462913145028467362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9AqkQ3SPNI/AAAAAAAAOJ8/wg80oFbvzdc/s1600/DSCF4749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9AqkQ3SPNI/AAAAAAAAOJ8/wg80oFbvzdc/s320/DSCF4749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462913150490918098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All in all, a great day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5667028127635025842?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5667028127635025842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5667028127635025842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5667028127635025842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5667028127635025842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/04/wine-country.html' title='wine country'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S9ApeDuaziI/AAAAAAAAOJs/aY-2AAECPlE/s72-c/DSCF4741.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2607380455064589152</id><published>2010-03-28T09:51:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T10:22:46.852+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sunflowers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jason bought me sunflowers! The day before we left to start our long drive to get to Cape Town, I got a call from the french NGO. I was really excited at first but then as the conversation progressed, I found out that I'm no longer the only candidate - not bad news just means I'm not a shoe in anymore. Anyway, part of the interview process requires the candidate to take a skills test. For an admin and logistics position, it's not that unusual but back in December when I interviewed, I couldn't take the test because they hadn't translated it to English yet. Earlier that day I sent an email letting my contact know that I would be traveling and how best to get in touch with me. Well he called to say that I would be missing the test while I was gone but I could come in that afternoon to take it. Of course I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the office around 2:45pm - he had already told me it would take about 3 hours so I was prepared for it. But when I got there, he wanted to re-interview me (he wasn't the one that originally interviewed me in December), then there were technical difficulties with the  test so by the time I got started, it was closer to 3:30pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first test was in word, a bunch of questions about management, supply chain, purchase orders, stakeholders, etc and after getting into the groove, I felt very confident with most of my answers. At the end of the word document was a multiple choice section - when I started to read the questions, my jaw just dropped open. They wanted to know information about batteries and voltage, diesel engines, generators and how long they would operate, common cement mixture, what do inverters do, the diameter of pipes, there was even a drawing of some sort of amp reader and I had to figure out what it was displaying. Wow, talk about feeling out of my league. Lucky for me, all of the questions included a "I don't know" option, which I chose often. I'm sure it was just to test my knowledge base but I was convinced by the end of this section that I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't get the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second section was in Excel. I LOVE excel so I was fine with it - basic accounting, cash flow, things I was mostly comfortable with although there was a lot of information to sift through. I forgot how to do a weighted mean and because we were working in 3 different currencies, I may have missed some valuable parts but overall, I was feeling good until the last question - Pivot Tables. I haven't created or worked with pivot tables since the computer class I took in college. My dad works with them daily and I was wishing that we could have had longer conversations about them! When I finally came to the end of the test, after waiting for clarification on a section I didn't understand, it was after 7pm and I was exhausted. I tried to use the Help option while I waited but it wasn't actually very helpful. So I at least wrote a few sentences stating that I am an quick learner and confident that I could figure Pivot Tables out with a little study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umph. I took notes on the multiple choice section because I HAD to be able to tell Jason what was included - and what I had no idea how to answer. It was crazy but I'm glad at least the process has moved forward. I will find out in just a few short weeks about the position but honestly, I won't be surprised if I don't get the job. Admin and Logistics positions are something that a lot of Zimbabweans are qualified to do so I shouldn't get the job if it's taking it away from one of them. So maybe it's time to rethink my approach to looking for work and find my niche somewhere else. And after that test, maybe I don't actually want that job...maybe figuring out how I can consult is a better option for me right now. A lot to mull over while we're traveling around South Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the test, Jason picked me up and when we got home I was greeted with the ever friendly and happy faces of a bouquet of beautiful sunflowers. There are beautiful flowers all around, but sunflowers will always be my favorite because no matter where I see them, they always make me smile.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77dJk6VgNI/AAAAAAAAOHE/X8srEOOJuFA/s1600/DSCF4728.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77dJk6VgNI/AAAAAAAAOHE/X8srEOOJuFA/s320/DSCF4728.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458042955016536274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2607380455064589152?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2607380455064589152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2607380455064589152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2607380455064589152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2607380455064589152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/sunflowers.html' title='sunflowers'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S77dJk6VgNI/AAAAAAAAOHE/X8srEOOJuFA/s72-c/DSCF4728.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2470889186680532183</id><published>2010-03-21T16:05:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T16:15:45.826+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a little bit of home for breakfast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ever since my friend Chris W posted an article about breakfast tacos from Texas on FB, I've been craving them. Last week we decided to have a mexican food night so I made a batch of tortillas - the best I've made yet, due to the overlooked ingredient that isn't included in the PeaceCorps cookbook tortilla recipe, Baking Powder. They turned out amazing this time around and we had a ton of tortillas to last us through the week. So Saturday morning, I got up early, prepared some guacamole and pico and warmed up the left over refried beans. Jason got up in time to cook the bacon and eggs while the tortillas were warming and then we sat down to enjoy a feast of potato and egg and bacon and refried bean tacos with guac and pico on the side. It was amazing and gave us plenty of energy to plan ultimate frisbee later in the day!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6Yn85nkQQI/AAAAAAAAOGI/Ex8jX9zqY5s/s1600-h/breakfast+tacos.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6Yn85nkQQI/AAAAAAAAOGI/Ex8jX9zqY5s/s320/breakfast+tacos.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451088326190973186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6Yn9KHiscI/AAAAAAAAOGQ/lb7cS2u6QwU/s1600-h/breakfast+tacos+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6Yn9KHiscI/AAAAAAAAOGQ/lb7cS2u6QwU/s320/breakfast+tacos+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451088330620056002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Now that I've perfected my tortillas recipe, the next step is to make homemade refried beans. That should be fun, as long as I can find the right kind of beans here. Any suggestions or recipes to offer would be much appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2470889186680532183?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2470889186680532183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2470889186680532183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2470889186680532183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2470889186680532183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/little-bit-of-home-for-breakfast.html' title='a little bit of home for breakfast'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6Yn85nkQQI/AAAAAAAAOGI/Ex8jX9zqY5s/s72-c/breakfast+tacos.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2074795820553735604</id><published>2010-03-19T12:08:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T16:58:03.706+02:00</updated><title type='text'>34 Fisher</title><content type='html'>I LOVE our new home. It's small but has exactly everything we could need right now. It's a flat that's attached to the bottom of someone's house - Phil and Di Russell are our new neighbors and landlords. We found it through our friends Liz and John who we were staying with when we first returned to Zimbabwe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment Jason and I walked in, we both looked at each other and knew we were going to take it. We would have been crazy not to - it's fully furnished and the bed even has a real mattress and not just one of those oversized sponges that are too soft and terrible for your back. So here's our virtual tour:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO7_i9PrI/AAAAAAAAOFA/uRhhrd5_BqA/s1600-h/outside+house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO7_i9PrI/AAAAAAAAOFA/uRhhrd5_BqA/s320/outside+house.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357135369911986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the back of the house and we are the flat one the first floor of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a little garden right outside where we eat our breakfasts on the weekend. We're talking about getting a nice little umbrella so we can sit out here and have sundowners and enjoy the beautiful evenings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8elU-II/AAAAAAAAOFQ/JdGfS26VW-A/s1600-h/garden+chairs.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8elU-II/AAAAAAAAOFQ/JdGfS26VW-A/s320/garden+chairs.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357143701354626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You walk directly into the foyer with the dinning room on your left and the tv/sitting area on your right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPiseh-EI/AAAAAAAAOFo/T4XDvjMZYwA/s1600-h/doorway.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPiseh-EI/AAAAAAAAOFo/T4XDvjMZYwA/s320/doorway.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357800265971778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The TV nook is great - it even has a TV, courtesy of our lovely landpeople, so we can watch the SABC channels as well as our new favorite news channel France24. It's actually the only decent international news station we get. Two oversized chairs and if we're looking for a loveseat to add to the are so we can at least snuggle while we're watching movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO7mqe4gI/AAAAAAAAOE4/GE3Erys87yU/s1600-h/tv+nook.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO7mqe4gI/AAAAAAAAOE4/GE3Erys87yU/s320/tv+nook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357128690590210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We finally a have a table to eat our meals at! And it seats 6 so we can have a nice dinner party, although we only have a set of 4 dishes right now. What also makes it so great is the open bar counter that connects to the kitchen! Finally we have counter space and we can both be in the kitchen without stepping all over each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPjdIRVOI/AAAAAAAAOFw/iXJuaozUils/s1600-h/dinning+area.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPjdIRVOI/AAAAAAAAOFw/iXJuaozUils/s320/dinning+area.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357813325944034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had to invest in a gas canister and gas stovetop because of all the ZESA issues - they do a lot of power showering in our neighborhood right in the middle of the dinner cooking hour so it's nice to have the gas alternative. We also use a large black trash bin (that's never been used for trash) to store our drinking water, which is harvested rain water that's been treated. We do have water running out of the taps but it's not treated as much as the stored rain water so to be on the safe side we just drink the rain water. The municipal water comes and goes so most households have created back up systems like this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8Dv9s4I/AAAAAAAAOFI/YKBznyK3B5I/s1600-h/kitchen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8Dv9s4I/AAAAAAAAOFI/YKBznyK3B5I/s320/kitchen.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357136498209666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Across from the kitchen is the dressing room. It's a whole tiny room that has closets big enough to fit all of our clothes, although no drawers. Eventually we'll put a little desk in here so we can always have the printer set up and accessible. The window looks into the TV area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPiFT8gnI/AAAAAAAAOFg/I497tox3wUE/s1600-h/dressing+nook2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPiFT8gnI/AAAAAAAAOFg/I497tox3wUE/s320/dressing+nook2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357789752590962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8o5ndeI/AAAAAAAAOFY/stmSS4tpROU/s1600-h/dressing+room.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO8o5ndeI/AAAAAAAAOFY/stmSS4tpROU/s320/dressing+room.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357146470807010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The bedroom is kind of funny because there is no real separation from the rest of the house - you look directly at the bed when you're standing in the front doorway. There is a half wall that separates the kitchen from the room but otherwise, it's open. Because the house is set into the hill, the bedroom is basically underground, therefore no windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPj6HlV-I/AAAAAAAAOF4/OqFjUOmDC2s/s1600-h/bed.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPj6HlV-I/AAAAAAAAOF4/OqFjUOmDC2s/s320/bed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357821107689442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The bathroom is spacious with a tub and a separate shower that has EXCELLENT water pressure! Can't complain at all. The only funny thing is that the light switch, instead of being right outside the door is actually in the kitchen. A fun little quirk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPkGoFDNI/AAAAAAAAOGA/EwUMnxQMFPY/s1600-h/bathroom.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OPkGoFDNI/AAAAAAAAOGA/EwUMnxQMFPY/s320/bathroom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450357824465210578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's our home. We love it, we're comfortable and it's the perfect price for our little budget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2074795820553735604?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2074795820553735604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2074795820553735604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2074795820553735604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2074795820553735604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/34-fisher.html' title='34 Fisher'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S6OO7_i9PrI/AAAAAAAAOFA/uRhhrd5_BqA/s72-c/outside+house.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-679420665969695593</id><published>2010-03-17T12:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T12:06:43.298+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a new kind of crush</title><content type='html'>For the last few months, I've been agonizing over my phone. I stare it for minutes at a time, willing it to ring. It's always in my pocket or within my line of sight so I can jump the moment it makes a sound. I'm anxious, hopeful, dreaming about what the future will look like once I get that call. A few sporadic emails keep me hooked and string me along, therefore I'm unable to just forget about the whole thing and put it behind me. The last time I was like this was in college, waiting for my crush to call. The boy always said he would call me later and no matter how often I heard that line, I always believed he would actually call later. I would do the same thing and stare at my phone, praying that he would wise up and figure out that I was amazing and not worth passing up. The situation I'm in right now is almost exactly the same. Only now I'm married and live with my crush so the man I'm hoping will call is actually a potential employer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like with my crush of long ago, I daydream about what the future will look like, how perfectly suited for the position I am, how crazy they would be not to realize my potential, dedication, work ethic and hire me this instant. In this situation it's of course a bit different, the decision isn't just contingent on one man's feelings, it requires coordination of many people, including a home office in Paris and straightening out government relationships, etc. So I'm being patient. I haven't put everything else on hold in the meantime, I've kept the job search going, met with people but really, deep down in my heart, I'm hoping that this one opportunity comes through. I dream about how much work the position requires and how I would fit perfectly behind the desk and computer, organizing, multitasking and helping this organization to start up and thrive. I belong there, I just know it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today, the waiting game continues and I try to shove the feelings to the back of my mind so as not to completely consume my ambition so I can continue emailing and making contacts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course with my phone right next to my computer, in my direct line of sight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-679420665969695593?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/679420665969695593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=679420665969695593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/679420665969695593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/679420665969695593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-kind-of-crush.html' title='a new kind of crush'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3010154768815266832</id><published>2010-03-15T11:51:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T17:05:12.353+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the need...to pee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm sitting here at Jason's office, actually it's not his office. His organization, Zimbabwe AHEAD, rents space from another local NGO. They've worked together for awhile and over a year ago, agreed to rent an office to Zim AHEAD.  It's a nice enough place - an old home that has been added to and turned into a suitable offices - it's the way a lot of NGO's operate here. Last October and November, I came to the office every day with Jason to job search, work on cover letters and so I wasn't stuck at the house, unable to get anywhere or do anything during ZESA outages. After coming back this year, I decided that I didn't want to come to the office with him every day. One of the main reasons is because of the atmosphere here. I think it has a bad vibe. It sucks for Jason because he doesn't have much of a choice - he has to come to work! Usually I come to the office with him one or 2 days a week, so I can use the internet and continue the job search. Otherwise, I'm happy staying at home and trying to fill my hours without having to deal with the bad juju. I can't put my finger on exactly what the issue is but when it comes down to it, I think it's the people. NOT the people in Jason's specific office - his coworkers are great. It's actually everyone other person here that works for the other organization. They are the least friendly Zimbabwean's I've met so far. They are cold and don't bother to try to engage us in conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The organization hires a caterer to bring in lunch, usually just the traditional stuff, sadza (pap) and chicken stew or beef stew. Nothing special and for $1.00, the price is right and it fills the hole. So we sit outside under the big thatched amphitheatre thing along with everyone else and no one invites us to join in their conversation. Mostly the conversation is in Shona and we don't understand what is being said but even when we're right there in the midst of it, there is no effort made to explain in English what is being said. If we come in after people are already seated, quiet greetings are exchanged and that's the extent of how we're acknowledged. I feel bad for Jason because he does this every day but he's better at not taking things personally than I am so he lets it go. Last week, there were a few more people than usual who ordered catering and by the time we made it out to get our plate, our plates had been taken so we had to go with dry chicken and rice. And then when we joined the group, there was space for one person and if shifting could happen, another could easily be squeezed in. No effort was made, there was barely any acknowledgement from the 12 people sitting around the table and finally, after awkwardly trying to add a chair, we just decided to sit at a table outside the area and really feel like the outsiders.  It was a horrible feeling and confirmed why I don't like this office. It's the people. That and the crappy slow internet (but at least it's free). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Friday morning of last week, Jason and Innocent (the finance guy for Zim AHEAD) arrived to a notice that told them they had to vacate their office space by the end of the day. That's another thing about this place, they are NOT professional at all. Who gives less than one day notice? Not my issue to deal with so I tried not to care and just let Innocent deal with it. They arranged to move to a smaller office next door and this morning when we arrived, it was clear there was no space for me so I'm sitting outside under the thatched roof biding my time till lunch. Today I would have stayed home but I have a meeting with a woman from CARE to discuss possible volunteer or internship opportunities. In the meantime I'm being chomped by the millions of ants that they can't seem to get rid of - no matter what, they just crawl up the chair I'm sitting on as well as my feet and legs. They aren't serious or really the biting kind but they are a pain! And now I have to pee. Ideally I could just get up and go to the toilet and resolve the issue without a second thought. But it's not such an easy fix today. Evidently the municipal water that they have been relying on is gone. No water coming from the taps or flowing into the toilets. What's frustrating is that this organization's main focus is water and sanitation and they have not sorted out another backup, which most people in Harare and the rest of Zimbabwe did ages ago when the municipal water started to fail years ago. Where's the bore hole? Trucked in water? Aside from needing to pee, where am I going to wash my hands thoroughly before I dig into my lunch that I have to eat with my  hands? In the bathroom they have hand washing posters to promote safe hygiene - except they have no water in there to wash your hands with! The irony. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Luckily my meeting is at a coffee shop just down the street so I'm sure I'll head over early to use the facilities there. It's unfortunate that the people are not friendly and they've created such a negative environment. I'm pretty sure they must feel threatened by the fact that Jason is now apart of Zim AHEAD and maybe that's why the cold shoulders. It sounds like they are on the hunt to find a new office, which can only be a good move!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just another day in the life of Christy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3010154768815266832?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3010154768815266832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3010154768815266832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3010154768815266832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3010154768815266832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/needto-pee.html' title='the need...to pee'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-619238916137589870</id><published>2010-03-10T12:19:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T12:28:08.086+02:00</updated><title type='text'>petulance unraveled</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Isn't it funny how one person can say the same thing over and over to you and it means nothing but then someone else comes along and phrases it just slightly differently and all of a sudden this click happens in the brain. I'm no different than the hard headed child that doesn't want to heed mom or dad's advice - except in this case, it was Jason's. It's not that I didn't want to do as he was recommending, it just didn't make sense in my mind; I didn't know how to approach it. There was more to it actually, like the pressure about money and feeling the need to contribute financially, all of that piled on top of the fact that the jobs aren't presenting themselves. Jason has hinted at least a dozen times, that I shouldn't feel pressured, maybe I should find things to fill my time so I'm not so bored. Because let's face it friends, I'm bored to tears a lot of days, especially when there is no ZESA and I've already been reading for 4 hours. My computer battery doesn't last more than half an hour so there is no point in getting started on electronic stuff just to have it poop out on me when I'm feeling warmed and in the middle of something good (like a blog post or a good game of Spider solitaire).  Anyway, I didn't want to just fill my time with anything, I wanted (still do actually) a job, one that would fill my hours and pay me for my good services all while learning and being challenged. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We had a new friend of ours over last Friday for dinner - now that we have our new little home, I really want to entertain! She was in PC 10 years ago and now works for an international NGO. She's very sweet and I like her a lot, it's nice to have a girl friend around to talk to (now we just have to work on finding a guy friend for Jason). She is able to get into these in depth conversations with Jason about their work here and that's when I just feel left behind - no fault of their own, it's just the natural course of the conversations that we end up having. This is when I wish I was working with an NGO, doing something, learning about the environment and work situation here in Zimbabwe so I could partake in these types of discussions.  Regardless of my not contributing, she was aware of my situation and offered her thoughts about how I could get involved with organizations and I could probably even help her out with a few things. Nothing major was stated but I realized that it's time to change my perspective and approach to finding work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saturday morning we drove South to Chiredzi so Jason could do some field work for a few days. On the drive we finally made our budget, which has made a huge difference in relieving some of these anxious feelings. After talking about it and working it out, we realized we're doing fine with just his salary. Yes, it would  be nice to be able to save more, but we're not in a dire situation. This is what I needed to figure out in my head because that means I can go out there and find work and it's ok if it's unpaid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On Sunday we had to drive to the border so we could use the South African Vodacom cell phone network - we didn't have to cross because the network is available on the Zim side. A friend of a friend from Chiredzi needed a lift so he road the 3 hours with us - it was nice to have company and good conversation. At one point we ended up talking about why we, as Americans that can live a relatively more comfortable life back at home, choose to live here and do the work we do. It's a question that I think a lot of people want to ask and don't know how. Jason made a good point and said we're not content to just sit back and lead a mediocre life. Yes, we could live at home, very comfortably but would we really be happy. When we have bad days here, we can still sit together and say hey, we're living outside the box, doing something different, living the life we weren't content just to dream about. And at that moment it really clicked in my head. I needed to know that financially we were ok but then it really struck the right cord inside me to hear him talk about our life like that. I am not ok just sitting around reading all day. Although a nice, guilty pleasure to do every now and again, it's not what I want my time in Zimbabwe to be about. I need to get out there and seek out volunteer positions, internships, whatever I can, regardless of pay, so I can walk away at some point and say that I made the most of my life here. I want to go back to grad school in a few years and know that despite not being able to find paid work, I was able to gain valuable experiences learning about the NGO sector and international aid - it wasn't all about the money and worrying about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Finally, a peace and calmness have settled over me and I've taken a new approach this week. Tiny steps have been made, but they'll lead to something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-619238916137589870?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/619238916137589870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=619238916137589870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/619238916137589870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/619238916137589870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/03/petulance-unraveled.html' title='petulance unraveled'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-7303041254689243613</id><published>2010-02-22T11:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T11:22:51.990+02:00</updated><title type='text'>back to reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This whole job search is taking longer than I ever anticipated. It's been almost a year and a half since I've had full time work (yes, I consider my 2 years in PC as full time even if I wasn't in an office every day). I did do some consulting while we were living in Ixopo but it did not keep me occupied 40 hours a week. And last year I did have a wedding to plan to help occupy my time. This time around it's different since there are no consulting jobs (yet) and no more wedding to plan. I read. A LOT. I've read 6 books in the month that we've been back. I had a friend remind me this weekend that I should enjoy it while I can. It's good advice and I love that I get to read so much but I've been programmed since I first stepped foot inside the door of my pre school that I should be working. And I'm an ambitious person, usually, so there will always be a part of me that feels just slightly guilty for not working or at least making more of an effort to find work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm still holding out for the French NGO job (there has been good noise about it but it's taking longer than they anticipated to get the project up and running - no time frame has been given to me) but I can't just sit around waiting for it, so it's become apparent that I have to take the initiative and get my name out there. This is the challenging part, it is not easy to walk into an office, stick out my hand and proceed to sell myself as a the best employee they didn't even know they needed. It's scary and I'm digging my heels in because it's just not on the top of my list of things that I want to spend my day doing. Rickey, my brother was encouraging and said it's a character builder. True but I can't imagine that anyone loves to continuously put themselves in such awkward situations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I had a meeting last week to discuss some consulting opportunities but that won't happen until April at the earliest. However, that meeting made me feel productive like I wasn't just a bum sitting on my tush all week. Friday I had an interview for a receptionist position and that was encouraging but I do not actually want to be a receptionist. It would be a job to fill my days and have another income so I can buy things like the pretty pinafore that I saw last week but couldn't buy without asking for permission. No woman wants to ask for permission to buy clothes! This is not a reflection on Jason, rather on me and my own guilt complex. I can't go out and spend money on things like this when I know that I'm not contributing financially. So this should be a motivator because it was purple and pretty and I really want it and I want the freedom to know that I can buy little treats here and there, not just for me but for Jason too. And to some extent it is a motivator but the next step requires me to take the initiative, cold call people, ask for help and stick my neck out on the line a little bit. Yikes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-7303041254689243613?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/7303041254689243613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=7303041254689243613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7303041254689243613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7303041254689243613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-to-reality.html' title='back to reality'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1705872105863088567</id><published>2010-02-08T11:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T11:17:22.375+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Day Ever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1705872105863088567?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1705872105863088567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1705872105863088567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1705872105863088567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1705872105863088567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/02/best-day-ever.html' title='The Best Day Ever.'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2922049642347283897</id><published>2010-02-07T10:15:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T11:14:15.872+02:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The build up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The only thing I hadn't finished was my vows and it was the day before the wedding! Yes, I am a procrastinator, always have been but much improved these days. All my cousins and siblings went to the Bacardi Factory in the morning but I stayed back, needing a few hours to myself to stay calm and crank out the words to confess my everlasting love for Jason. Success and just in time to shower and help prepare for the Welcome Party at the apartment at 1pm. Hotard guests mingled and got to know each other a bit before the wedding. At one point, Mom made us all gather in a circle and everyone had to introduce themselves and say how they knew the bride/groom. It was actually really nice to hear from everyone and it turned out we know a lot of lawyers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXOguHezI/AAAAAAAAODE/2zEz9NFPzk0/s1600-h/jason+rickey+paul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXOguHezI/AAAAAAAAODE/2zEz9NFPzk0/s320/jason+rickey+paul.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441359050351016754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Jason, Rickey and Paul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXORS8ZWI/AAAAAAAAOC8/cka5CTsNKC0/s1600-h/christy+and+ana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXORS8ZWI/AAAAAAAAOC8/cka5CTsNKC0/s320/christy+and+ana.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441359046210512226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My beautiful niece Ana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXN6F8-AI/AAAAAAAAOC0/z4Dw2xrC3b0/s1600-h/circle.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXN6F8-AI/AAAAAAAAOC0/z4Dw2xrC3b0/s320/circle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441359039982008322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Mary Alice and others at the party - thanks Mom and Dad!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to the hotel to change and get ready for the Rosenfeld Welcome Dinner - a chance for the Rosenfeld guests to meet and mingle. Dinner was at Pamela's, in my opinion, one of the BEST places to eat in the San Juan area. Right on the water between Isla Verde and Viejo San Juan in an area called the Ocean Park. Delicious food, good wine and great conversations.  Jason's dad made him get up and give an impromptu speech and introduce everyone around the tables - thankfully he remembered everyone's  name. It was a really nice evening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvGtwu_I/AAAAAAAAOB8/g9w83z3V_-A/s1600-h/adam+jason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvGtwu_I/AAAAAAAAOB8/g9w83z3V_-A/s320/adam+jason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441357411282631666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Adam and Jason sitting down waiting for dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXNfeJV0I/AAAAAAAAOCk/mIOCAoBlx5k/s1600-h/fish.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXNfeJV0I/AAAAAAAAOCk/mIOCAoBlx5k/s320/fish.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441359032835725122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fish and yumminess!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXNsUk1bI/AAAAAAAAOCs/n7LN6C7ML5g/s1600-h/steak.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXNsUk1bI/AAAAAAAAOCs/n7LN6C7ML5g/s320/steak.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441359036285244850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What everyone wished they ordered - this steak was amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvffZ5xI/AAAAAAAAOCE/d-KT0tqV3wo/s1600-h/dessert.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvffZ5xI/AAAAAAAAOCE/d-KT0tqV3wo/s320/dessert.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441357417933301522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Divine dessert - thanks Jason's parents for having this dinner!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Back to the hotel to meet all the guests for the New Year's celebration. We took over the downstairs hotel bar and lounge of Alfredo's Restaurant - no cover so we could drink together and be merry. It turned out to be the perfect setting and then right before midnight we all walked out to the boardwalk (site of the ceremony the next day) and counted down to the stroke of midnight. Sparklers, noise makers fun hats and dirty martinis - it was perfect. A kiss from my husband to be and after saying goodnight to everyone I was whisked up to Elysia's room with most of the bridesmaids to continue the celebration with the ladies. The party still went on and from our 12th floor balcony I wished everyone below a very happy new year. The 3 dirty martinis were wonderfully tasty but the next morning I realized that maybe 2 should have been my limit. I'm sure the numerous shots and champagne at 3am didn't help much either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVwNdGzLI/AAAAAAAAOCc/GYEw8d_wYjQ/s1600-h/rents.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVwNdGzLI/AAAAAAAAOCc/GYEw8d_wYjQ/s320/rents.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441357430271691954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My mom Nita, Jason's mom Ann Marie (yes, another one in the family), Jennifer, and Jason's dad Charles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvzZCPwI/AAAAAAAAOCU/OJa_W8xG74Y/s1600-h/scott+jason.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvzZCPwI/AAAAAAAAOCU/OJa_W8xG74Y/s320/scott+jason.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441357423275294466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Scott, Jason's brother and Jason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUy1T2UkI/AAAAAAAAOB0/nmR5Jp_At6Y/s1600-h/jason+rickey+paul+jamie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUy1T2UkI/AAAAAAAAOB0/nmR5Jp_At6Y/s320/jason+rickey+paul+jamie.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441356375818392130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jason, Katie's husband Paul, Jamie my cousin and Rickey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyqDGzjI/AAAAAAAAOBs/e8Sro120p6s/s1600-h/jason+christy+nye.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyqDGzjI/AAAAAAAAOBs/e8Sro120p6s/s320/jason+christy+nye.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441356372795379250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;if you see all the pics from the evening you'll notice that I have a dirty martini in every one of them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyfOovjI/AAAAAAAAOBk/KTOHGLOIS7Y/s1600-h/jason+chris+dee.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyfOovjI/AAAAAAAAOBk/KTOHGLOIS7Y/s320/jason+chris+dee.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441356369890950706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jason and his good friends Chris Burns and Dee Clark (most of these pics are his, great eye!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyH7t8yI/AAAAAAAAOBc/sXsrHtT6tkw/s1600-h/hotards+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUyH7t8yI/AAAAAAAAOBc/sXsrHtT6tkw/s320/hotards+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441356363637584674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The Hotard's!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUxyadocI/AAAAAAAAOBU/BZDaNTTF0FY/s1600-h/best+friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OUxyadocI/AAAAAAAAOBU/BZDaNTTF0FY/s320/best+friends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441356357860958658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My best girl friends (most of them): Aasta, Elysia, Kristen, Tait &amp;amp; Kristina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvmxqXII/AAAAAAAAOCM/VYQlYD_Dsi4/s1600-h/smooch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OVvmxqXII/AAAAAAAAOCM/VYQlYD_Dsi4/s320/smooch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441357419888925826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Midnight Kiss!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elysia and I woke up to find a beautiful day reaching into grab us. The skies had cleared and there was no more rain to be seen - just a few clouds and the beautiful blue sky. It was destined to be a good day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2922049642347283897?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2922049642347283897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2922049642347283897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2922049642347283897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2922049642347283897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/02/new-years-eve.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OXOguHezI/AAAAAAAAODE/2zEz9NFPzk0/s72-c/jason+rickey+paul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4229136518796043433</id><published>2010-02-06T09:06:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T09:54:29.554+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Puerto Rico &amp; Rehearsal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I can't go any longer without describing our week in Puerto Rico - for me it was 10 days of perfection. There were parties and drinking and revelry that so far in my life is completely unmatched. We even had a mani/pedi party at 9pm at a spa/cocktail lounge - drinking while we got our feet massaged and toes painted - life seriously doesn't get much better than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My parents rented an apartment in Viejo San Juan, right next to where the cruise ships dock - a perfect location that allowed for short walks into the heart of the city to enjoy the beautiful buildings, stone forts, blue cobble stone streets and yummy fried foods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODGZxO1mI/AAAAAAAAOA0/g2lsZPmXXeM/s1600-h/capitolio+plaza.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODGZxO1mI/AAAAAAAAOA0/g2lsZPmXXeM/s320/capitolio+plaza.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441336920813524578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFhEKowWI/AAAAAAAAOBM/IeU4uFzyg1w/s1600-h/toes+and+cobblestones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFhEKowWI/AAAAAAAAOBM/IeU4uFzyg1w/s320/toes+and+cobblestones.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441339577894224226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFgy9Lv9I/AAAAAAAAOBE/fYsp5-67ot4/s1600-h/tata+papi+church.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFgy9Lv9I/AAAAAAAAOBE/fYsp5-67ot4/s320/tata+papi+church.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441339573274394578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;(This is actually the church where my grandparents were married - it's been under renovations for years but it's still a beautiful landmark in Viejo San Juan)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The wedding itself was held at the InterContinental San Juan Resort and Casino, located about 10 minutes away from Viejo San Juan in an area called Isla Verde. And it was perfect in every way - the staff was more than helpful and friendly and when they found out I was the bride - congratulations and more smiles and friendliness that made me feel like a star. We were actually fortunate that The Normandie decided to close for renovations back in June 2009 - this hotel was far superior and we were able to have both the ceremony and reception in one place, which helped bring the logistical stress down a few notches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODF7iuGBI/AAAAAAAAOAs/pcCPU4Cqa7I/s1600-h/intercontinental.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODF7iuGBI/AAAAAAAAOAs/pcCPU4Cqa7I/s320/intercontinental.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441336912699594770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The rehearsal was the first moment I felt really overwhelmed and nervous - true butterflies in my tummy. There were tons of people milling around the lobby, asking questions, wanting to chat, while we waited for Maria, our wonderful coordinator. I grabbed Ana, my beautiful chubby little 6 month old niece to calm my nerves amidst the commotion. She was the perfect antidote with her big beautiful brown eyes with doll like eye lashes and her constant happy grin. She was just what I needed and then we got down to business. Because the wedding was New Year's Day, we had the rehearsal and dinner on the 30th so it wouldn't conflict with New Year's Eve celebrations. The weather that day was horrible: windy, overcast and rainy but Maria said she'd never had it rain for any of her brides so I hoped I wouldn't be the first to break her trend. Just in case I knocked on wood and said a few extra prayers. Once we were out on the boardwalk, running through the technicalities, the whole thing started to take shape and my giddiness skyrocketed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODFj8wyXI/AAAAAAAAOAk/uX96TDRob2E/s1600-h/maria+and+ana.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODFj8wyXI/AAAAAAAAOAk/uX96TDRob2E/s320/maria+and+ana.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441336906366372210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The rehearsal dinner was amazing. We got dressed up and went into Old San Juan to a tapas bar called Rosa de Triana. Sangria was handed to us as we walked in the door and flowed all night long. Delicious appetizers to begin with followed by the best paella I've even had - filled with all kinds of seafood and meat. As we finished our dinner we had a private Flamenco Dancing show and Jason and I were brought up onstage to learn one of the dances. The night finished with rich flan and a few drinks out on the town. It was great to finally see some of our friends that we literally hadn't seen in over 3 years! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODFFpfK0I/AAAAAAAAOAc/uUdHXTFykFk/s1600-h/flamenco+dancers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODFFpfK0I/AAAAAAAAOAc/uUdHXTFykFk/s320/flamenco+dancers.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441336898232462146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODEZhl17I/AAAAAAAAOAU/Xo31aFLExOM/s1600-h/us+flamenco+dancing.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODEZhl17I/AAAAAAAAOAU/Xo31aFLExOM/s320/us+flamenco+dancing.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441336886388185010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFgomprKI/AAAAAAAAOA8/oociimS3oYQ/s1600-h/flan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4OFgomprKI/AAAAAAAAOA8/oociimS3oYQ/s320/flan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441339570495532194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;*The pictures I'm using are a mixture of my own and family and friends...I'm happy so many people have shared their pictures from the week as well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4229136518796043433?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4229136518796043433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4229136518796043433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4229136518796043433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4229136518796043433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/02/puerto-rico-rehearsal.html' title='Puerto Rico &amp; Rehearsal'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/S4ODGZxO1mI/AAAAAAAAOA0/g2lsZPmXXeM/s72-c/capitolio+plaza.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1052526801137039014</id><published>2010-02-05T08:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T09:02:45.805+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Africa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's hard to believe the festivities have come and gone already. It's a feeling similar to Feb. 2, 2009. I had spent almost 4 months at home after Peace Corps, doing absolutely nothing  - catching up on a lot of Law &amp;amp; Order and CSI, hanging out with sisters and just vegging. But before I realized it, I was already back in Leigh's car riding away form the Johannesburg airport as if only a couple of weeks had passed. That was a surreal moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oxford English Dictionary entry for 'surreal': adjective, strange and having the qualities of a dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hmmm…it was strange to be back, like the 4 months in the states were just a dream. And looming ahead of me was a scary time - not scary I fear for my life, but scary I have no idea what the next step looks like. Lucky for me, Jason was there to take my hand and we started to carve out the future together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;A year later, it's almost the same story, only instead of 4 months at home, it was 5 weeks. And instead of recovering from PC by myself, Jason and I were together preparing for the big wedding and visiting family. We had an enchanting week in Puerto Rico where we got married surrounded by our close family and friends. And it whooshed by and suddenly we're back here in Africa. Back in Zimbabwe - at a nicer place to stay but still playing the waiting game. Hoping I get a call from the NGO I interviewed with back in December, hoping that more jobs are posted so I can at least feel as though I'm making an effort and not sitting all day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's that surreal feeling again. Being home and pampered, feeling like a princess and then aback here to a country that doesn't have enough resources to keep the electricity on all day or provide clean water for it's people. Yet it's where we want to be because of the work we do. Some must think we're crazy, both back home and here - why would we choose the harder life? I guess in my mid it's not harder, just different than the challenges we would face if we were living in the states. And even though we are eager to get settled, have all our belongings under one roof - our roof - we're not trying to rush things or get stressed that the jobs for me aren't just dropping into my lap. And maybe starting off married life with so many uncertainties isn't the ideal way to do it but it suites us just fine and we're doing it together. And when we finally get that house and get settled, we'll be more inclined to really appreciate it because we know how frustrating and challenging life is without it, always relying on others to support you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Bottom line is, we're happy and we're together and that's what matters, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;As I keep saying to myself, the job will come, something will present itself soon enough. One day at a time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1052526801137039014?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1052526801137039014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1052526801137039014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1052526801137039014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1052526801137039014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-to-africa.html' title='Back to Africa'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1758891145761403778</id><published>2009-12-01T15:46:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T15:49:54.853+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a big smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;A good day. I had a job interview this morning and it went really well! I’m going to refrain from specifics for now because I don’t want to count any chickens before they hatch but it is definitely promising and I have a huge smile on my face!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Jason also heard some good noise for a potential project for his organization, which means he can still work too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One month from today Jason and I get married. The official count down begins! And &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;tomorrow we're back to South Africa for a few more days then USA by next Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is just so much excitement today!! YEA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1758891145761403778?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1758891145761403778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1758891145761403778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1758891145761403778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1758891145761403778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/12/big-smile.html' title='a big smile'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1456304787013631754</id><published>2009-11-30T11:40:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T15:45:57.079+02:00</updated><title type='text'>imire safari ranch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For our last weekend in Zim before heading home, we decided to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;get o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ut and see something since we haven’t done a ton of exploring. Our friends recommended Imire Safari Ranch, just a 140 kms outside of town so off we left on Saturday morning to make&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; it there in time for tea. What a treat – they even greeted us with a chocolate cake!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc6a7WhNI/AAAAAAAANZg/jyY1jNm_R1c/s1600/jason+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc6a7WhNI/AAAAAAAANZg/jyY1jNm_R1c/s320/jason+cake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410262317341770962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What we didn’t realize was that Imire isn’t a traditional game r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;es&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;erve but more like an oversized zoo. They have rhin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;os, elephants, buffalo, lions, hyenas but they each have their own section of the 40,000 hectacres and don’t intermingle. Our first stop of the drive &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;was th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e lions, which are always majestic, but there was a fence between us and it made me feel just a little sad to see them that way. Still, the cats are impressive and to be that close to them is still a bit of a thrill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc54xGIaI/AAAAAAAANZY/wa3HUeyI3H8/s1600/caged+lion.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc54xGIaI/AAAAAAAANZY/wa3HUeyI3H8/s320/caged+lion.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410262308171948450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As were driving along we came across 2 young rhinos and their han&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;dlers. Imire is actually known for their protection and breeding of black rhinos. Poachers hav&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e almost &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;killed the entire population of the black rhinos for their horns, which are valuable because they ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e thought to be a potent aphrodisiac in places like China. Here, they try to protect the rhin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;os&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; by shav&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ing off their horns every 3 years – sad but if it keeps the amazing dinosaur-like creatures ali&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ve, then necessary. Sadly they had a horrible slaughter 2 years ago and lost 4 rhinos plus one in utero. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They have successfully introduced a few rhinos back into the wild which is nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc5Xx2GVI/AAAAAAAANZI/1XgDXS6Rtw0/s1600/cozy+rhinos.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc5Xx2GVI/AAAAAAAANZI/1XgDXS6Rtw0/s320/cozy+rhinos.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410262299316722002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc5v2LG4I/AAAAAAAANZQ/eoMbQLRMQWo/s1600/close+rhino.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc5v2LG4I/AAAAAAAANZQ/eoMbQLRMQWo/s320/close+rhino.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410262305777326978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way to lunch we came upon the 3 elephants and 7 month old baby el&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ephant – they were so close t o us! Just like with the rhinos, they have handlers and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;to see these behemoth animals allowing someone to get so close is really amazing. Both are a part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; the Big 5 (lion, leopard, rhino, buffalo and elephant) and a common misconception is the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;reason for why there is the Big 5. Evidently these are the most dangerous animals to hunt and tha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;t’s why they make the list, not because they are the most impressive animals. So to see these beasts very close and able to pet them, it’s an amazing awe inspiring feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbdLgpG9I/AAAAAAAANZA/pqgHYyN0b6A/s1600/elephants.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbdLgpG9I/AAAAAAAANZA/pqgHYyN0b6A/s320/elephants.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410260715475377106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIzhDKHzI/AAAAAAAANYo/TMW7G9IxFTU/s1600/not+zoomed.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIzhDKHzI/AAAAAAAANYo/TMW7G9IxFTU/s320/not+zoomed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410240208493485874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a nice relaxing lunch, we came across the buffalo herd. What’s really unique about this herd is their dominant leader – she’s an elephant. 30 years ago when she was introduced to Imire, she went straight for the buffalo and ended up becoming the matriarch of their herd. She’s clearly a bit confused because even though she’s almost 30, she’s never given birth to a baby elephant – evidently when she’s in estrous signals are crossed and the bull elephant never gets friendly with her. She goes everywhere with the buffalo and is clearly in charge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIy_hvDpI/AAAAAAAANYY/YzAlqZ9D5HQ/s1600/elephant+matriarch.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIy_hvDpI/AAAAAAAANYY/YzAlqZ9D5HQ/s320/elephant+matriarch.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410240199494930066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The last fun highlight of the day was going off to have sundowners a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nd snacks while watching the sun set. Because it’s not actually a free ranging reserve, Imire pr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ovides food most of the animals and even pen the rhinos and elephants at night to protect them. On our way out we stopped by the pen and we got to feed the baby elephant! It was amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIzDpvLRI/AAAAAAAANYg/LzEtL5MJhB8/s1600/feeding+dumbo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUIzDpvLRI/AAAAAAAANYg/LzEtL5MJhB8/s320/feeding+dumbo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410240200602234130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then I also tried to feed the rhino and that was crazy – the black rhino is different from the white rhino because of their lips. They have a prehensile lip that helps them eat; where as the white rhino has a wide, flat lip (they aren’t actually different because of their color, that’s just a miscommunication).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1w0zbzI/AAAAAAAANYI/vDdtgyEcRgI/s1600/laughing+with+rhino.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1w0zbzI/AAAAAAAANYI/vDdtgyEcRgI/s320/laughing+with+rhino.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410238048064728882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All in all, a great fun last weekend. We had a delicious dinner then sat and watched the stars and talked about life. A great send off for now – and a good tease to bring us back. Other game reserves are a bit wilder without any fences so t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;he elephants, lions and hyenas actually prowl around the camp at night! That’ll be an experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1PAhHMI/AAAAAAAANX4/YlEeiNgU5q4/s1600/our+new+pet.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1PAhHMI/AAAAAAAANX4/YlEeiNgU5q4/s320/our+new+pet.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410238038987054274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This was the cat that befriended us, stayed up watching the stars with us, then snuck into our room and slept with us. On the floor that is. We woke up to loud purring and thought maybe she was outside...nope, she had joined us in our room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbc0TpHiI/AAAAAAAANY4/q52v5tEIdYs/s1600/zebras.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbc0TpHiI/AAAAAAAANY4/q52v5tEIdYs/s320/zebras.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410260709246836258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbcndI1GI/AAAAAAAANYw/tEBrvNxG4nQ/s1600/giraffes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUbcndI1GI/AAAAAAAANYw/tEBrvNxG4nQ/s320/giraffes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410260705797002338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1VXFySI/AAAAAAAANYA/-v5d5OTnRss/s1600/nighttime+protectors.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG1VXFySI/AAAAAAAANYA/-v5d5OTnRss/s320/nighttime+protectors.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410238040692345122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;These were our night watchmen outside our room. Cute little buggers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG0hcEWwI/AAAAAAAANXw/yCgt8UKAgnY/s1600/roar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUG0hcEWwI/AAAAAAAANXw/yCgt8UKAgnY/s320/roar.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410238026754579202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Roar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1456304787013631754?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1456304787013631754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1456304787013631754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1456304787013631754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1456304787013631754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/11/imire-safari-ranch.html' title='imire safari ranch'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SxUc6a7WhNI/AAAAAAAANZg/jyY1jNm_R1c/s72-c/jason+cake.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-7247819468678906482</id><published>2009-11-27T10:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T10:32:45.403+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What I’m thankful for this year:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;•    The amazing life I lead, despite the fact that I haven’t had a job for awhile, which is taking a toll on my psyche; I am here, living in Africa. Something that I dreamed about for a long time and I’m living it now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;•    That I get to live this amazing life along side Jason, finally. He’s an amazing man and I must be the luckiest girl in the world to have found him. He loves me and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I get to marry him in less than a month and a half. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;•    Despite the economy and restricted budgets, my parents and Jason’s are giving us a dream wedding in Puerto Rico. And so many of our family and friends are making the trip to join us, that’s pretty special. Somebody pinch me now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;•    For my new family – Ann Marie and Charles Rosenfeld are amazing parents and I’m honored that I get to be a part of their family. Scott, Jason’s brother, and his wife Amalie are wonderful. I’m excited that we get to spend some time with them and th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eir beautiful kids, Will and Reese, while we’re home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;•    For my own unique family that continues to grow – Mom and Dad are the most loving and giving people I know, offering whatever they can to ensure that their family and friends are taken care of and have love to surround them. Anne-Marie, my older sister, is a woman that I will always look up to because of her strength to endure and her love for her husband Lee, and their 2 beautiful kids, Cameron and Ana. Rickey, my amazing big brother, for his de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;dication to live life without boundaries and for his laugh and sense of humor. And then there’s Katie, the peanut. Although my younger sister, I look up to her because she’s got her life together – she knew her dream from a young age and pursued it, made it happen and is now living the life with her new hubby Paul. Finally, last but of course never the least, there is Teresa. The baby of the family but also a strong willed beautiful young woman now – I’m proud of all that she does and love her youthful energy and spirit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There really is so much to be thankful for this year. Jason and I went out to dinner to celebrate with peri-peri chicken for him and a pizza for me. We thought of everyone we miss from home and toasted to all the yummy dinners they would be enjoying. Hop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e you ate a slice of pie for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Sw-OZPNnBTI/AAAAAAAANXo/_NURjVnMAUg/s1600/thanksgiving.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Sw-OZPNnBTI/AAAAAAAANXo/_NURjVnMAUg/s320/thanksgiving.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408698241726743858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-7247819468678906482?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/7247819468678906482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=7247819468678906482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7247819468678906482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7247819468678906482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Sw-OZPNnBTI/AAAAAAAANXo/_NURjVnMAUg/s72-c/thanksgiving.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6989952808063824697</id><published>2009-11-20T16:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T16:15:52.903+02:00</updated><title type='text'>christy's cryptonite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Today’s the sort of day that I would love to sit at home, wrapped in a blanket watching movies. It’s overcast, raining, a bit chilly and I have a headache that is just resonating in the back of my skull, making my teeth ache. Any other day I could have stayed at home – I don’t have a job so it’s not like I HAVE to come to Jason’s office with him. But today I have a skype call scheduled with Maria, our wedding coordinator, for 2 pm (8AM PR time) so I’m making the most of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of weeks have been a bit difficult for me. The process of searching for jobs is exciting, with the possibilities that each potential position holds leading me to daydream about the happiness of having a job and money will bring. But slowly the daydream fades, first as I start the business of writing the dreaded cover letter. Each letter is filled with my experiences catered to the details of the minimum qualifications, which of course sometimes have to be stretched and twirled into wording that would make the potential employer believe that even though I don’t have the min 5-7-10 years of experience, I’m still worthy of their consideration. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day dream completely goes grey and fades into the background after I email the tear and sweat stained cover letter and cv (or resume, whatever they prefer). Initially I’m happy because I don’t have to revise any longer and just clicking the ‘send’ button gives me a sense of accomplishment. But as the days go on without any response besides the initial “we received your application” email, the hopeful picture is replaced with the continued job search. On the upside, after writing cover letter #4 (and submitting it this morning), I realized it actually gets easier with each letter because I don’t have to recreate every sentence and instead can cut and paste from the others!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also just realized that Jason’s job has ZERO stability at the moment. He doesn’t have a contract past the end of November so we actually have no idea what will happen when we return to Africa in mid January. The day we completely comprehended this was the gloomiest yet, with both of us now in the job searching position and no real control over how to change this fact. Not exactly the way you want to start off your marriage but deep down, we know something will work out. It always does, somehow. There is a lot of potential funding in the pipelines for his organization and the situation is likely to change and he (we) won’t have to worry so much. Plus, I heard I was short listed for one of the jobs so that gives me a bit of hope. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another cause for my less than chipper mood is the constant power cuts from ZESA, the main electrical power company here in Zim. For whatever reason Jason’s office isn’t affected and we don’t seem to have interruptions in the power supply (knocking on wood constantly) during the working hours. But every day for the last 2 weeks there has been a power cut (http://allafrica.com/stories/200911130777.html) to the neighborhood where we stay, Chisipite, and every other neighborhood in the city as well.  Even when I am in a good mood, the moment we pull into the driveway and realize that the electricity is out, depression just washes over me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one luxury that we have at this house is TV, which we mainly use to watch the France24 news channel but also the occasional show on one of the SABC channels we get. I’m not a huge fan of wasting hours in front of the tube, but for the little bit of time we watch in the evenings (or in the mornings during breakfast) it’s our link to the outside world and the act of sitting in front of the TV just makes me feel normal for a brief moment. And then to come home and find that refuge taken away is just maddening. Usually after a few minutes I can adjust to the fact that we’re destined for an evening without electricity and try to make the most it and do things like reading, exercising, cooking (we use a gas burner), having a romantic candle lit dinner, and finally squeezing in a few episodes of Scrubs on Jason’s computer before the battery completely goes flat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night it was seriously depressing to come home after it was dark and drive past the pitch black shops with not even the glimmer of an obnoxious neon sign to catch the eye. The only lights came from those fortunate enough to have generators, like the Chinese food restaurant, the petrol station, the girls high school and a few houses throughout the neighborhood. We are not one of the fortunate and have to rely on candles or my super duper phone that has a flashlight (which is much brighter than my headlamp at the moment). We watched a few Scrubs episodes and then finally the lights came back on around 9. It’s amazing how the relief I feel is instant, even though it’s late and there is nothing much left to do but sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I drifted off to sleep, content, with the whir of the fan in the background and with the Scrubs theme song ushering in my dreams, ‘I can’t do this all on my own, no I know, I’m no superman…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m no Superman.’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6989952808063824697?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6989952808063824697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6989952808063824697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6989952808063824697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6989952808063824697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/11/christys-cryptonite.html' title='christy&apos;s cryptonite'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-824820563660329693</id><published>2009-11-12T09:38:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T10:15:26.105+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the first four weeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For the first 4 weeks we spent in Harare, we settled into a routine and reported to an office every day, providing structure to our day that both of us appreciated. I wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;s able to look for jobs and for the few postings I found, I spent hours upon hours working on cover letters and even enjoyed the fact that I was sitting at a desk (back in South Africa I was relegated to the couch)! I was also pretty efficient with the wedding planning stuff and was able to che&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ck off a few things from the to-do list and make some much needed headway.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We managed to engage in a few social outings – we even went to a party the first weekend we were here. Thanks to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; friends of friends, we’ve managed to find some nice places to eat, shop and have some adult beverages. I’ve tried to get a feel from everyone, from NGO foreign nationals to local Zimbabweans, about what it’s like live here. Some NGO folk d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;on’t quite get why they are here – a lot of them are used to working in extreme emergency situations and they've been told there is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; some sort of emerg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ency situation going on here but nothing like Sudan, Ethiopia or Honduras. The actual emergencies are hard to identify – last year there was the Cholera outbreak which affected over 98,000 people and killed almost 4,300 (WHO report) but the rainy season passed, people recovered and now the NGO’s are here to try to prevent the same thing from happening this year. Clearly there is a government crisis going on and the progress that was thought to be made in January with Mugabe and the ZANU-PF agreeing to work with th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e MDC has all but s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;puttered out and some seem to worry that it was all just show. So the question still remains: what exactly is the emergency?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason and I did a little bit of sightseeing and drove north on one of the main arteries out of town and found hiking at Domboshawa. It was a little awkwar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d because the park seems to be right in the middle of a village setting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and you have to hike around people’s houses to get up into the rocks/hilly area. I don&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;’t know what came first – the park or the people. Due to the farm seizures of white Zimbabweans, the black population has moved onto the land and slowly settlements have sprawled out, encroaching on the once beautiful bush land. Maybe this area is a result of that but I don't know. We managed to find our way up a rock face and had a nice picnic lunch overlooking the valley below. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCqO2n2eI/AAAAAAAANXY/SJIIEZhLrTk/s1600-h/j%26c+domboshawa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCqO2n2eI/AAAAAAAANXY/SJIIEZhLrTk/s320/j%26c+domboshawa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126208758536674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCqADelJI/AAAAAAAANXg/kRa0NA4XFns/s1600-h/jason+colorful+rock.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCqADelJI/AAAAAAAANXg/kRa0NA4XFns/s320/jason+colorful+rock.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126204785923218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCp6R6o0I/AAAAAAAANXQ/RznanecAtJg/s1600-h/domboshawa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCp6R6o0I/AAAAAAAANXQ/RznanecAtJg/s320/domboshawa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126203235869506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Our living situation is not ideal but we’re making it work. The hardest part is the shared space and cooking situation. The pans are thin and not quite up to par and cooking anything without some sort of a disaster rarely happens. We use a gas burner and one night we left water to boil and after an hour not even one rolling bubble appeared. How does water NOT boil? Usually at least once a week one of us will flip out and storm out of the kitchen, but it’s a trade off and the other one is always there to calm the situation and rescue the meal. One night we took refuge at our friends Liz and John’s house where we completely took over their kitchen to make a delicious Tex Mex taco dinner, complete with refried beans (bought in South Africa), Spanish rice and guacamole. I even learned how to improvise and make sour cream out of yogurt and lemon juice – handy trick to know! We had a great time and next time we promised to have tequila and margaritas so we could enjoy the full Tex Mex experience!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harare is a pretty city that has a lot of potential. It’s run down, all the street signs are ancient and rusting, stop lights barely work (today we ran across a light that had both the red and green lights going at the same time, very confusing), if at all, the municipal water system doesn’t work (the reason for why we don't have running water), there are electricity outages a couple times a week but still, after almost ten years, people seem hopeful. It’s strange that I live in this city along with the seats of government that are causing this country so much pain and agony – how can there be any harmony directly surrounding people who have a total and complete disregard for their fellow human beings? I pass one of Mugabe’s homes and The State House barricaded with brick walls topped with razor wire and militia men armed with rifles and serious scowling faces. The streets on either side of these complexes seem inviting, lined with gorgeous jacarandas and flamboyan trees (neither indigenous but a big part of what makes this city beautiful), but cameras are forbidden and the roads close to all traffic including pedestrians and bicyclists from 6pm to 6am, something Mugabe himself implemented after taking power in 1980.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Despite all the problems, we're enchanted by this place. Maybe it’s the geographical change, maybe it’s the thrill of exploring a new place, maybe we just want to be settled somewhere and not live out of a suitcase, whatever it is, we want to make this our new home. We'll see how things unfold, with his job, my applications and of course, the government situation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-824820563660329693?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/824820563660329693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=824820563660329693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/824820563660329693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/824820563660329693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/11/first-four-weeks.html' title='the first four weeks'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SvvCqO2n2eI/AAAAAAAANXY/SJIIEZhLrTk/s72-c/j%26c+domboshawa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4645886917182564165</id><published>2009-11-11T16:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T16:37:10.403+02:00</updated><title type='text'>why do i write this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It’s hard to write a blog sometimes. First, the pressure of writing makes me put it off and then all of a sudden a few weeks have passed and there is a lot more to update the world on and I have no idea where to start. Plus, there is so much stuff to process and for me, the old almost outdated method of actually using a nice pen and writing in my journal helps me sort it out in my head. So then trying to type up a blog seems awkward and forced. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So why do you do it then, Christy? Good question – the one big reason would be that I want my family and friends back home to know what it’s like on this side, what I’m doing with myself and how I’m living my life. At least my Dad is a loyal reader and he reminds me to keep updating. It’s a way to stay connected but the only problem is it’s one sided. I wish all my family and friends would keep a blog so I could stay updated on their lives as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason is that I want to improve my writing skills. It’s frustrating when you sit down next to your significant other, both setting out to write about your experiences, and he produces this lyrical masterpiece in the same amount of time it’s taken me to write a few measly paragraphs that lamely chronicle the days gone by.  Part of me also has this secret wish (not so secret anymore, I guess) to become a star. Not Hollywood style, but someone that does something important with her life, makes a difference in the world somehow and maybe even gets recognized for it. Figuring out what the hell I’m actually doing with my life is the biggest barrier to achieving that goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it is another good outlet for processing all that I’m seeing and experiencing – writing in my journal is good but writing for my blog helps me understand and present it in a way so others can picture and understand as well, at least on some level. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So this still begs the question, what has been going on for the last few weeks in Zimbabwe? Yet another good question. Answer to come tomorrow, I promise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4645886917182564165?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4645886917182564165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4645886917182564165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4645886917182564165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4645886917182564165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/11/why-do-i-write-this.html' title='why do i write this?'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5397898654748219178</id><published>2009-10-08T11:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:22:00.404+02:00</updated><title type='text'>my first taste of zimbabwe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We've crossed the border (without any visa hassles actually) and made it to Zimbabwe. The first day of driving was a bit longer than anticipated and we didn't get to the border till after 4pm. Hassles on the South African side and then the lines of trucks and cars crossing to the Zimbabwe side combined to create a 3 hour border experience. The only borders I had crossed so far were Swaziland, Namibia and Lesotho and those were painless and easy. I expected this would take time and it did but everyone was so friendly and happy, it wasn't a harassing experience at all. We decided that since I had a valid drivers license (long story short - my mom was able to get me a temporary written license and scan it to me but Jason wasn't so lucky) I got to drive across and that was fun for me as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On the other side, we realized it was almost 7, we were hungry and really didn't have much of an idea of where we were going. It was already dark and the roads are not as well kept as the South African side so the thought of driving a few more hours in the dark, in unfamiliar territory didn't sound too appealing. All of a sudden we saw a sign for a Holiday Inn Express. I think the very last thing we expected to see at that moment - we thought we would have to drive at least a few more hours before finding something. It was worth it to stop and get a good night's sleep (we had been up a bit later than anticipated the night before due to a party, karaoke machine and lots of wine) and start driving again the next day during the sunlight hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Now we're in Harare, the capital, and I already feel the weight that South Africa was bearing down on my shoulders has lifted. Its' a new place, with new people and new opportunities and I'm ready for it all. They got rid of the Zim dollar awhile ago so now they are using the USD and the Rand. Here in Harare most places prefer to use the USD - it's strange using our currency again and adjusting to the prices. There are no coins that we've seen so far - the dollar bill seems to be the smallest amount of change to give. The shops will give you a credit slip if they owe you anything less than a dollar. We've seen a ton of $2 bills floating around and already used a few on occasions. You can actually get pretty much anything from the shops now - only long life milk is available but tons of canned goods, wine, beer, toiletries, etc. The prices so far seem to be close to what we were paying in South Africa but just slightly more expensive so we're happy that we stocked up on canned goods and wine before coming over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The city has streets lined with lavender colored Jacarandas and they are in bloom right now along with the Bougainvillea so the setting is beautiful. Streets signs are old and in many places there aren't any, which can be a little challenging but it all just seems like a fun adventure, getting to know the layout. It sounds like we'll spend most of our time in Harare and we're both happy about that. We're staying at a friends house for the time being - it's an old home with lots of old hard back books and trinkets around but it's cozy and fine for now. The couple who own it evidently left and now live in South Africa (as it happened for a lot of white Rhodesians) but they still have people that live at the house and look after it. There is no running water, it comes and goes sporadically so it's back to bucket bathing but at least I have a bathroom this time and can actually sit in a bathtub! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Last night at dinner we talked about the fact that many people in Zimbabwe actually have a better education than those in South Africa and it is already noticeable, just by talking with people in the shops. Although it sounds like since Mugabe has been in power the rural education system is falling apart so it may not continue to be the case. And people are very friendly here! After spending 8 months in KwaZulu Natal, it became very apparent why people generalize and say the Zulu people aren't know to be very friendly*. Once we crossed into Limpopo Province and started meeting the Tswana and Sepedi people who are known to be friendly, it was apparent that there was some truth to the generalizations, as much as it's hard to say that. And evidently it's the same for Zimbabweans, who are said to have a submissive and pleasant nature. Jason already feels like he doesn't have to be on his guard on high alert like in South Africa but I'm not quite there yet. I can feel that it's different but until I understand a bit more about the country and the people, I won't let my guard down too much. I've already found some books that I'd like to read that will help me to get acquainted with my new (temporary) home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;*Just to clarify - I loved my time in KZN and met many wonderful Zulus but they do not have an outward friendly nature when you first meet them. It's hard to say this because I don't like generalizations but I'm letting myself slip this one time to help you understand the difference between the different places...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5397898654748219178?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5397898654748219178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5397898654748219178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5397898654748219178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5397898654748219178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-first-taste-of-zimbabwe.html' title='my first taste of zimbabwe'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5722938624640210967</id><published>2009-10-03T11:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:12:09.690+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Christy &amp; the horrible rotten no good very bad day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's Friday afternoon and I'm sitting in a stall of the women's bathroom at OR Tambo Airport, bawling my eyes out and ready to jump on a plane and get the hell out of South Africa, if only it were an option. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The day started off well enough, although I was a bit nervous about driving into the city, navigating into an unknown area and maneuvering the beast by myself. We had just 2 days before we planned to leave for Zimbabwe so Jason needed to stay behind at the house and work. I had to set out on my own to take on Home Affairs and figure out my visa situation before crossing the border. I had picked up my new passport the day before but there of course was no record of my entry into South Africa or my 3 month tourist visa. Anticipating hassles at the border and wanting to quell any fires beforehand, I wanted to sort out my visa with Home Affairs. When I called the week before, I spoke to a woman and she told me all I would need is a copy of my affidavit, my new passport and a form they would give me. Sounded like a simple plan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Despite my nerves, I made it into Pretoria CBD and even managed to parallel park the beast. Inside Home Affairs is when things started to unravel. I found the right office and when it was my turn to talk to the guy at the window that was when it became apparent that the simple solution was not actually so simple. He told me it would take 30 days to process the information even though I told him I wasn't asking for a new visa, I was asking for proof my of my current visa. The back and forth began, me not accepting that this was a suitable solution and him not understanding that there was a simple way to figure this out. Finally I asked for a supervisor and was stopped by a security guard before I could even argue my case. Frustrated, I called Jason and broke down but before we could even figure out what to do, the man came back and decided to help me. Although thankful for his about face, he still couldn't give me proof of my visa, despite eventually having a print out of all my information right in front of him. He said it was confidential and he couldn't give it me. Huh. He suggested I go to OR Tambo and sort it out there, since that is where I entered the country. He gave me the phone numbers although none of them worked when I tried calling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I got back to the beast and decided that a trip to the airport would be good and I could say that I tried all possible avenues. I consulted the map and Jason and figured out there is one main route to the airport, R21 I was able to find it pretty easily. Quickly I discovered it's a great idea in theory to have a direct route except when it's under construction, limited to 2 lanes and NO exits if there happens to be an accident. Which of course there happened to be one and I had to sit in traffic for an hour just to get out to the airport - with no ac and a truck that doesn't really love to drive in that kind of environment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Once I parked, it was relatively painless to find a woman in the Home Affairs uniform. She brought me to the office, only to tell me that I shouldn’t have bothered coming out, I wasn't going to get hassled and the people at the border would know how to deal with it. I looked at her and said I wasn't going to leave without some document stating that in writing. She came back with a torn off piece of paper with the date of my entry and expiry date for the visa and a woman's name and number to call if hassled. If it had been that simple of an answer, why didn't the first person I dealt with when I called Home Affairs tell me that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And if we're asking these questions, why couldn't the people at ACS (American Citizen Services at the US Consulate) tell me that in the first place - aren't they supposed to be there to help American citizens out? In fact, they couldn't help with any questions I had, about how to replace our driver's licenses and why they charge extra for a stolen passport. We were just robbed! We've already lost so much and still we keep getting hit left and right, even from those that give the façade that their here to help us. I was so angry at all the hoops I had just jumped through and then it turns out I had wasted my day when I could have been doing constructive things before leaving for Zimbabwe! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I found the first bathroom I could find and let it all out, called Jason and told him it was a good thing we were leaving because I couldn't handle South Africa any more. I needed to get out and put some literal distance between me and these stupid hassles. I calmed down, relaxed and had a nice lunch and then decided to take a different route home to avoid the hassles. Easier said than done, I could only find signs back to the R21 so I again got stuck in traffic, the radio stopped working and then got lost once I got back to Pretoria. Everything just seemed to pile on top of me that day and I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted by the time I drove back to the house. An hour long bath with a glass of wine (and the bottle sitting right next to it) and my favorite magazine Body &amp;amp; Soul managed to put me in an immensely better mood and wash away the crap from the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And lucky for us, we were staying with 2 amazing people, Leslie and Tommy. Leslie was in Peace Corps with Jason in Ghana and they just moved to South Africa a couple months ago. After the horrible rotten no good very bad day, it was nice to put it behind me, relax and know that I have some pretty amazing friends to help put it all in perspective. An encouraging conversation about possible future jobs, more wine, good food and suddenly the day actually didn't seem so bad after all. Although it's hard when I'm right in the middle of it to get the perspective I need, it's a constant goal to work towards. I'm just happy that I have the supportive family and friends to help keep me going!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5722938624640210967?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5722938624640210967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5722938624640210967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5722938624640210967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5722938624640210967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/10/christy-horrible-rotten-no-good-very.html' title='Christy &amp; the horrible rotten no good very bad day'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4194779887539638527</id><published>2009-09-30T14:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:09:10.597+02:00</updated><title type='text'>no more wasting time!</title><content type='html'>At this point in time it seems as though devoting a significant amount of my time to finding a job is pointless. We thought the momentum for Jason's organization in South Africa was starting to take off and we had even started house/apartment hunting in Pietermaritzburg so we could get ready for the next phase. We loved the idea of Pietermaritzburg because it's smaller and more manageable than Durban. Despite finding a gorgeous dream house that was within our budget and the city limits I had to let go of that dream, at least temporarily. All of a sudden Jason's bosses wanted to send him to Zimbabwe in order to make adequate use of Jason's time/skills. Although a great idea, at the time I didn't want to have anything to do with it because I wanted to feel settled. As fortune would have it, my trip home for Katie's wedding was right around the same time, so I was able to step out of that mindset and get some perspective on it. Although having a home base is an ultimate goal of ours, the idea of being able to head to Zimbabwe for a few months was more in line my original ideas for living abroad - being able to experience different countries and cultures. And here we have a perfect opportunity to do just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my outlook has changed and I'm really excited about going to Zimbabwe. Jason's bosses are known to change their minds and all of a sudden I was really worried that they would change their minds again and we wouldn't get to go. But now, there's no going back and we're quite literally on the road to Zimbabwe. After the latest robbery incidents, I'm actually desperate to get out of South Africa for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, here I am, jobless and honestly having no in-depth understanding of the work that I am trying to land. A lot of people have asked me what I want to do and all I can provide is a fluffy non-descript answer. Development work - but what exactly is development and how do I fit into the grand scheme of it all? Good questions and it's time for me to stop side stepping the answers. So I've created a plan, a curriculum so to speak, with the goal that I end up with a better understanding of the overall picture of International Development. There is no excuse for me to continue wasting time and avoiding this learning opportunity - I have a library of resources right at my finger tips because Jason enjoys reading books on this topic so I can start now. The next couple of months I've decided won't just consist of me floating around from day to day, with no real purpose. And actually, I've heard that there may be more job opportunities for me in Zimbabwe than South Africa so that's also promising and exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first assignment is already in progress: read and report on The White Man's Burden by William Easterly - catchy phrase on the cover: Why the West's Efforts to Aid the Rest Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good.  I've read the first chapter and I'm hooked. If anyone can recommend any other good reading material for my personal curriculum, I'm open to any and all suggestions! Discussions are welcome too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4194779887539638527?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4194779887539638527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4194779887539638527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4194779887539638527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4194779887539638527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-more-wasting-time.html' title='no more wasting time!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3051078247869099723</id><published>2009-09-24T14:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T14:43:34.007+02:00</updated><title type='text'>robbed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I had so many ideas for what my next entry would be about. We're moving to Zimbabwe and writing about that excitement was definitely in the works, or sharing a bit about the "homework" I've given myself for while we're there. There were other thoughts in my head and I had written them all down in my notebook that I carry with me everywhere; I had decorated it to make it more interesting, pasted a calendar in there, recorded recipes, phone numbers, to do lists, thoughts about life, I wrote it all in one place so I wouldn't have a ton of little pieces of paper everywhere. It's really a good system for me and I like it more than just buying a day planner because I designed it to my liking. There is nothing worse than having that important piece of my life taken, except of course when other things are stolen at the same time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After a hectic week of visiting with Jason's parents (not the hectic part), preparing for and helping out at the Community Health Club graduation for Jason's work, and then packing up our lives to fit into the Beast, we started our journey to Zimbabwe. First stop was Durban for a night out with our good friends Jamie, Justin and Heather. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Most of us are tired of the backpackers we've been staying at in Durban, so Jamie was determined to find a classy one that we could rely on that didn't seem sketch. She hit home and we met up at Gibela Lodge, located in a decent part of town, close to restaurants and bars. They were pretty booked so we were all going to share a dorm room together until a double opened up and Jamie and Justin snagged it since Jamie's moving to Tanzania soon. We got dolled up for the evening and went out for a night on the town, all within walking distance. We ate at a really nice Indian restaurant and then went out for drinks at Bean Bag Bohemia before calling it a night and heading back to Gibela around 1:00 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Since packing our belongings into the Beast, we were worried about the security for the truck. Normally we're diligent about keeping our valuables out of site but this place seemed really secure and no one seemed sketchy. Instead, they were lying around the room because we trusted the peeps in the room - there were 3 of us and the one other American, Molly, who's a Fullbright scholar. At 5:00 am, I woke up to the sound of my toiletry bag being moved. I saw a man grabbing it and because there is a liner inside, it makes a crinkling sound. I saw someone leave the room and close the door so I asked Jason if he had grabbed my bag but it was clear by his sleepy response that he was not the one. I had a fleeting thought that someone from the backpackers had come in to the room to take my cake and put it in the kitchen since we weren't allowed to have food in the room. That quickly didn't make sense and Jason had already run out of the room trying to find whoever it was that would take a toiletry bag. While he was out, I jumped off the top bunk waking Molly and Heather. Molly discovered her phone, that was right by her head on her pillow had been taken, and he purse was in the middle of the room with no wallet inside. As soon as she mentioned purse, I knew right away that mine was gone because I was standing right where it should have been. My phone was on the dresser and that was gone as well. Jason came back in and I asked him where his wallet was and sure enough, both his wallet and phone were also gone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We ran outside desperate to find the guy or remnants of our stuff but to no avail. The man that runs the backpackers was shocked to find out we were robbed in the room because he hasn't had an incident in the 7 years he's worked there. Plus there are cameras all around the property so the thief's mug is all over the videos. It turns out that another group that was staying at the lodge had come home after us, around 3:00 or 4:00 am and the last guy in, that stayed out to smoke a cigarette, didn't relock the back door. They most likely were followed home from the bar and the guy waited till all was quiet inside, hopped the fence of the house next door then hopped the wall between the two properties. The unfortunate thing is that our room was in the line of site from the door and because it's a dorm room, it didn't lock. Most likely we scared the crap out of the guy when we woke up so he only had a chance to get into our room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Maddening: R3,500 cash, our drivers licenses, bank cards, credit cards, phones, my passport, my handy dandy notebook, the capias samples that my mom had made, and my freaking toiletry bag that was a Christmas present.  It looks like a purse and had nothing but my toiletries in it, like Burt's Bees foot crème, shampoo &amp;amp; conditioner, soap, deodorant that I can only get in the states, etc. It's frustrating because both Jason and my wallets were taken so that means we have no backup. Our trip to Zim is delayed because we have to wait for new bank cards/credit cards and of course my passport. We were able to get our same phone numbers back, which is nice and our phones were insured so we'll get new ones on Friday. Luckily we have great friends and they fronted us money so we could make the trip up to Joburg and get all these things sorted out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Of course I keep going over it in my mind. I had a hard time sleeping Sunday night. In the last 2 days, we've heard of 3 separate robbery incidents that have happened in the last 3 days. Yes, it can happen anywhere in the world, but the frequency of the incidents in South Africa make it unique. And it makes it hard to continue loving this country. We let our guard down for a moment, and there was no reason why we should feel guilty that we did - every thing just happened to be in perfect unison for this guy to come waltzing into the backpackers and go into our dorm room and take our stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So my next challenge is to just let it go. No one was hurt and we can replace most things that were stolen. Except of course, my notebook but I'll survive without it and create a new one of those too. Now I just have to make sure this doesn't make me too jaded. I can't let the anger consume me, I have to just let it go. Let it go, let it go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3051078247869099723?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3051078247869099723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3051078247869099723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3051078247869099723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3051078247869099723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/09/robbed.html' title='robbed!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2285231183569723489</id><published>2009-08-16T09:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T10:03:08.862+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the hazards of living...anywhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anger. Towards humanity. Frustration. At myself. The desire to punch a small African man in the face.  Fire coming out of my mouth, singeing those around me (mostly Jason) with ugly words. This is how I felt Friday afternoon after my iPod was stolen. I walked out of the post office and a small man startled me by shoving a plastic bag towards me and asking if I wanted to buy something. He was so close he freaked me out so I told him no and that he shouldn't sneak up on people. A moment later I felt inside the outside pocket of my bag and realized my mistake. But it was already too late and when I turned around the little man was nowhere in site. Jason was across the street and felt the heat when I stormed to the car cursing myself for being so stupid and angry at the man for taking something that clearly didn't belong to him. I even marched back across the street to storm around for a few minutes looking for this small non descript African man, knowing full well that I didn't get a good enough look. But a pink leather iPod case isn't too hard to miss so I was at least going to look for someone that was manhandling something like that. Of course no dice so back to the car, where Jason again felt the heat of my anger until a few tears rolled down my cheeks because that's usually how my anger ends up manifesting itself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;As I typed the word 'iPod', I know it sounds silly to get up in arms about the luxury of it. I am happy that it wasn't my phone or my wallet or something that is a bit harder to live without. But it was mine, given to me by a good friend. My original iPod, that my brother sweetly bought for me, died while I was in Peace Corps. I tried to save some of my resettling allowance to replace it but after taking care of a few other things, I couldn't really justify buying one. Both my sister and my best friend Elysia happened to have old nanos lying around and they each gave me one. So at one point I actually had 2 iPod's, talk about luxury. While I was putting one to good use, I gave one to my friend to use. He had no kind of music listening device and it was just silly that one of my iPod's was collecting dust. So then this little, non descript, African man decides that he's going to invade my personal space and take something I really appreciate having on a daily basis. I'm kicking myself for leaving it in that pocket. I had a fleeting thought it wasn't the best place for it but I'm always on my guard, my bag close to my side and with my game face on. You know, the one that says 'don't mess with me I'm on a mission and I'll be mean if you do'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;At our next post office stop, I had to wait in quiet a long queue (that's what they call it here, not line). It was way past lunch so clearly I was getting to the cranky stage but there was a really nice man behind me that struck up a conversation. The usual inquiries about where I'm from, how long have I lived here, do I like it, etc. Of course I was a little bit more bitter and told him that I love the country but I was pick pocketed earlier and feeling a bit jaded. Of course I know that this can happen anywhere and it doesn't mean that South Africa is bad. It's not, plus this man was so nice, I couldn't help but have my faith in humanity restored. He even told me a story about when he lived in New York for a year he and a friend got mugged. He being from Africa, took the tough guy route and told the guys to shove off but his friend didn't  and they took his wallet. Anyway, point of the story being that this kind of thing happens anywhere and I really did feel much better after talking to him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I thank the man with the kind soul at the Pinetown post office. Where ever you happen to be at the moment I am sending good thoughts and vibes your way. And to the small non descript African man, I hope karma comes around and bites you in the ass. I just wish I could see it when it does. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2285231183569723489?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2285231183569723489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2285231183569723489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2285231183569723489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2285231183569723489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/08/hazards-of-livinganywhere.html' title='the hazards of living...anywhere'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4706824583440329206</id><published>2009-08-11T13:38:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T13:45:27.432+02:00</updated><title type='text'>trying this simple'ology thing out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div id="simpleology_blog_1197527ee62b8a0af0bda982d12e455b"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just found a link that maybe can help me improve my blogging...oh it sounds so nerdy, I know but really, I feel as though I'm missing a key element. And these guys are offering advice for free so I'm going to try it out. Here's the bit I have to post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm evaluating a &lt;a href="http://www.simpleology.com/training/blogging/index.php"&gt;multi-media course on blogging&lt;/a&gt; from the folks at Simpleology.  For a while, they're letting you &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.simpleology.com/training/blogging/index.php"&gt;snag it for free&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; if you post about it on your blog.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It covers:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The best blogging techniques.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to get traffic to your blog.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to turn your blog into money.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll let you know what I think once I've had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it's still free.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sounds good so far...I'll update on my progress and whether it's worth it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4706824583440329206?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4706824583440329206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4706824583440329206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4706824583440329206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4706824583440329206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/08/trying-this-simpleology-thing-out.html' title='trying this simple&apos;ology thing out...'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8808314251093723201</id><published>2009-08-10T11:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T11:21:55.686+02:00</updated><title type='text'>wedding bells for katie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My little sister got married. I almost can't believe it. But I guess since her facebook status says she's married and she's now Katie Steinhoff an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d not Katie Hotard anym&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ore, it must be real. She's off on her honeymoon and I couldn’t be happier for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;her. The celebrations surrounding her big day and the wedding itself were amazing. I was home for 3 weeks and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I swear, it was the busiest time I've had in probably the past year! Every day was fille&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d with tasks to check off of the to-do lists. When I collapsed into bed each night, I barely hit the pillow before being fast asleep. It was hectic trying to get all the things done for her wedding while still planning and doing stuff for mine as well but everything got done and her big day went off without any hitches.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqG_w_07I/AAAAAAAANRM/7nxbuAcoFIQ/s1600-h/katie+big+day.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqG_w_07I/AAAAAAAANRM/7nxbuAcoFIQ/s320/katie+big+day.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369744430393709490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Katie was beautiful and there wasn't a moment when she didn't h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ave a huge smile on her face (ok - maybe during the 900th picture of the family).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqHe1EOzI/AAAAAAAANRU/onBSuwBWuVI/s1600-h/900th+family+picture.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqHe1EOzI/AAAAAAAANRU/onBSuwBWuVI/s320/900th+family+picture.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369744438732274482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The reception was at the Pearl Stable and it was set for 350 and we maxed that place out - there wasn't an open seat in the house! We danced all night and had our fill of fajitas and margaritas! Oh, and the best part was the nacho cheese fountain… it really doesn't get much better than flowing cheese on top of mexican food! Rickey, Jason and I wer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e in charge of delivering all the presents to their house after the reception - we filled an entire van with all the back seats down plus the backseat and trunk of a smaller sedan. CRAZY! What generous family and friends they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;have - they are so fortunate to start off their life together set with all the kitchen ware and tools any family could want!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUrAeFFlzI/AAAAAAAANRs/QWGKWfx7VxU/s1600-h/tying+katie+dress.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUrAeFFlzI/AAAAAAAANRs/QWGKWfx7VxU/s320/tying+katie+dress.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369745417783580466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqHrdbobI/AAAAAAAANRc/7V16HwD0OUE/s1600-h/goofing+with+paul.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqHrdbobI/AAAAAAAANRc/7V16HwD0OUE/s320/goofing+with+paul.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369744442122805682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was fun to see how her big day unfolded - sort of a good trial run for me. It was perfect for her but there are numerous things that will be completely different for my big day. For instance, we aren't having a church wedding so it won't be as formal. Not as many bridesmaids/groomsmen and definitely not as many people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. It's fun to see how as sisters, we are so much alike but that our tastes are also so different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUrALga3VI/AAAAAAAANRk/ULFh4M_hTeU/s1600-h/katie+finally+eating+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUrALga3VI/AAAAAAAANRk/ULFh4M_hTeU/s320/katie+finally+eating+cake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369745412797947218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm so happy that I got to see and talk with my entire family. The time with them is never long enough but just seeing them for the few days was worth it…plus we're all getting back together in Puerto Rico in just 5 short months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of most of the cousins from the Hotard-Escudero family - we're missing Andrea &amp;amp; Chris and their 2 cute kids Jay &amp;amp; Ava, Fred had to work, Cessly was in Colorado and Jeff had to stay back in Louisiana for some studying (and evidently a date)...Oh and Cameron but he was technically there, he was just in the middle of his nap time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqGtKIZhI/AAAAAAAANRE/LoaZUvbCwmo/s1600-h/cousins.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqGtKIZhI/AAAAAAAANRE/LoaZUvbCwmo/s320/cousins.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369744425398855186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Alex, Linden, Sofia, Diego, Joey, Rickey, Jamie, Jason, Graham, Anne-Marie, Lee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bryn, Teresa, Marisa, Paul, Katie, Christy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jennifer, Jon, Kara, Mia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ryan, Zach, Anderson, Campbell, and little Ana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8808314251093723201?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8808314251093723201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8808314251093723201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8808314251093723201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8808314251093723201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/08/wedding-bells-for-katie.html' title='wedding bells for katie'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SoUqG_w_07I/AAAAAAAANRM/7nxbuAcoFIQ/s72-c/katie+big+day.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5780501161575124928</id><published>2009-07-29T13:57:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T14:18:45.145+02:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday bash</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This year I got to celebrate my birthday at home in San Antonio with my family. Nothing big was planned but I did h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ave to get my driver's license renewed. So off I went to the DMV - not as early as I hoped, but spending the few hours in the morning with my mom and Anne-Marie was nice.  And even though nothing was on the agenda, I still wanted to look pretty, so I got dolled up in my new dress &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;me of Anne-Marie's Premier Designs jewelry. At the DM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;V I was told I needed my Social S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ecurity card because it had been too long since I had a TX drivers license. Unfortunately I had lost my card a few years ago while living in Colorado (flew out of my wallet going over Monarch pass in an open jeep, oops) so off I went to find the Social Security office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;After getting directions from my mom, then stopping at a gas s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;tation to figure out where I went wrong, turning around and at least finding the right street, I still was having some problems locating the building. While driving in a parking lot and craning my neck to try and find the silly office, I ran into another car that was coming up from the perpendicular lane. Ugh. I immediately burst into tears because who wants to get into a car accident on their birthday while in their sister's car! &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;The other&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;people were friendly, probably not sure what to do with this blubbering idiot. We exchanged information and after a million calls between me, my mom, dad and Anne-Marie, I was assured that it wasn't exactly the end of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6MePChxI/AAAAAAAAM5s/C1EdlQsFk-Q/s1600-h/annemaries+banged+up+car.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6MePChxI/AAAAAAAAM5s/C1EdlQsFk-Q/s320/annemaries+banged+up+car.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363851142147245842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I circled around the area another couple of times, I finally found the office and had to wait another half an hour to get my number called. Then back to the DMV, where I got to skip the line only to be given another number where I had to wait another hour be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fore getting called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Despite the horrible car blunder, the rest of the day was actually really nice. Teresa and I made home made wheat pizzas for dinner. We even tossed the dough in the air a few times! They were delicious - spinach &amp;amp; feta, veggie, pepp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eroni &amp;amp; sausage and cheese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6N_pmTEI/AAAAAAAAM6M/zm9eQ-eS6-I/s1600-h/tossing+pizza.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6N_pmTEI/AAAAAAAAM6M/zm9eQ-eS6-I/s320/tossing+pizza.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363851168296881218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cupcakes for dessert, compliments of my dear friend Elysia, and poppy seed bread that my mom got up early to make for me. The Belisle's (minus Janet) came over and joined the chaos - it's always nice to have close family friends join in a celebration. After some presents and merriment, Katie, Paul, Teresa and I went off to the movies to see The Proposal, which had me in hysterics most of the time. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I guess since 29 isn't exactly a major celebration year, I needed something to make this birthday a memorable one. The good news is my $5 a year touring policy through USAA is covering the damages to Anne-Marie's car and her insurance is covering the damages to the other car. It all works out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6M33EgaI/AAAAAAAAM50/WUg5z5DC_j4/s1600-h/birthday+candle.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6M33EgaI/AAAAAAAAM50/WUg5z5DC_j4/s320/birthday+candle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363851149026034082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6Ns5c4aI/AAAAAAAAM58/BbJbU99j4vM/s1600-h/happier+birthday.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6Ns5c4aI/AAAAAAAAM58/BbJbU99j4vM/s320/happier+birthday.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363851163263099298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5780501161575124928?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5780501161575124928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5780501161575124928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5780501161575124928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5780501161575124928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/07/birthday-bash.html' title='birthday bash'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SnA6MePChxI/AAAAAAAAM5s/C1EdlQsFk-Q/s72-c/annemaries+banged+up+car.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-459462646812318564</id><published>2009-07-06T21:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T21:56:46.543+02:00</updated><title type='text'>swirling thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What am I doing? That is the main question on my mind right now. Floundering, wasting my days, doing a lot of things that are meaningless and not helping me to change my current situation. It's an injustice to me and the life I'm supposed to be living, the one I am living. This is it! There is no looking forward to what will happen - it's just causing me extra worry lines because it's become evident that the things that I think are set in life, don't stay set - there is no jello mold holding all the little mandarin orange pieces together. And so I'm figuring out a few things: first, 'it' won't happen if I don't act now, today, the moment I'm in right now. That's all I have. Two, I can't worry about things, as long as I'm doing what I can today. Living my life in the moment and not just letting my whole life pass me by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day some one asked me what I believe. I tried to defer to others because it was a political conversation but he was adamant and wanted MY views. It really forced me to think about it - where exactly do I stand on certain issues? I'm quickly approaching the adult years (some may think I'm actually already there) and no, I don't have to lose my youthful spirit, but figuring out my own opinions, maybe that is a little bit overdue. I don’t need to worry about others judging me. I just need to be open to being wrong, finding out the truth and more information, learning. But it's time to stop holding myself back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So now there are some big question marks looming over my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What do I need to be doing every day to be living the life I want?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What do I believe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That's my current quest. I think I'm on the verge of something big. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-459462646812318564?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/459462646812318564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=459462646812318564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/459462646812318564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/459462646812318564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/05/swirling-thoughts.html' title='swirling thoughts'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1639183602934918309</id><published>2009-06-24T23:08:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T21:58:46.608+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the odds are now in my favor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is the story about our crazy flight from Ethiopia back to South Afric&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a. We left our hotel early to make sure we caught our 8:30 am flight. Everything so far seemed to add up just to a normal travel day. We boarded the plane and took our seats in the 2nd to last row. Jason let me have the window and we settled in for the 5 1/2 hour flight back home. Despite my recently developed anxiousness while flying, I felt fine, probably because Jason was w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ith me. So I immersed myself in a crossword puzzle and ignored the take off jitte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;rs. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about a half hour in the air, the pilot came on and said we had to return to Addis Ababa because of a mechanical failure. I've been in planes where we've had to turn around before and so I expected that we would be safely on the ground within half an hour. But after an hour of flying and finishing our crossword, Jason and I began to wonder why we hadn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; actually landed yet. Other people were also curious especially since it was obvious we were circling around the city.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we started to descend and it seemed as though we were finally going to land but instead we circled around past the airport. What I really don’t like when flying is when the pilot turns and the wings are no longer level - it just gives me the creeps &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;because it doesn't seem normal. After what we thought was the attempt to land, the pilot turned the plane but it wasn't exactly a gradual turn so the tipping really started to freak me out. At one point, the flight attendants looked out the windows and pointed at something. At first I thought maybe they were pointing at the airport but aft&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;er a few minutes it was obvious that they were trying to see something on the plane itself. They didn't say anything to use but it w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;as clear from their eyes and body language that they were nervous about something.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made another couple runs close to the airport and then it looked like we might actually make an attempt to land. Again, it was a false hope but this time we flew so close to the tower that everything looked like its actual size. That really freaked me out; if everything was ok, we definitely would have landed by this point. During all these fly bys, I had grabbed Jason's hand and started deep breathing. I thought I was squeezing the life out of his hand but it turns out we were both anxiously clinging to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's funny what pops into your head in situations like this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had a morbid thought, "if this is my time, I'm happy with my life…" except that I had a lot of buts and started praying for the things yet to come. I remember thinking it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;can't be our time because Jason and I still haven't had our babies - that's the one thing that kept rep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eating in my head. That and the song by The Turtles 'Happy Together'. So I continued my deep breathing and humming to myself, taking comfort in the fact that at least Jason was with me and I was holding his hand. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the pilot came over the loudspeaker &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and told us to prepare for landing, betraying no fear of any kind in his voice. This time was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; going to be the real thing but every single person on that plane was tense in anticipation of what could happen.  The pilot did an amazing job and brought the plane down as if it were on eggshells - a much smoother landing than our flights to Addis the week before! The passengers broke out into applause but all I could do was send a little prayer of thanks up and l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ook out the window to let a few tears escape. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we slowed down I saw every kind of emergency vehicle possible lining the runway - ambulances, fire trucks, police, non descript official looking ones - all of it. Finally we came to a stop and watched as the fire trucks drove up close and started &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;unraveling the fire hose and getting ready with fire extinguishers. We saw smoke wafting up from underneath the plane and could smell burning rubber. They hosed down something underneath the plane but at the same time, I got a thumbs up and a big grin from one of the firemen. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching the people outside moving around for 45 minutes, the doors to the plane were finally opened and we started filing off onto the tarmac. I only started to feel relieved once I was safely on the ground and no longer in the plane. We looked back at the plane and you could see one of the back right tires was completely shredded.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back to the terminal the place was dead - no one was in the shops and there was no one at any other gates; evidently &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hey had evacuated the building. Most likely because if passengers had seen all the emergency vehicles going out to the runway, it probably would have caused quite a stir. We were flying Ethiopian Airways and they led us straight to the Cloud 9 lounge w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;here we could have all the free food and booze we wanted while we waited for our bags to be transferred to the new plane. The first thing Jason did was bum a cigarette and despite not being a smoker, I asked for one as well. The buzz was exactly what I needed to calm my nerves after the ordeal. I couldn't really eat but after an accidental shot of cognac (at first I poured what I thought was champagne but only discovered that it was champagne cognac after taking a rather large sip) a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nd a couple glasses of wine, I had to fill my belly with some of the fried goodies and fruit. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We filed back to the gate with our new friends from the lounge and foun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d an EA representative, who was more than willing to give us the scoop on what actually happened. Evidently we hit something on take off - many people, including Jason, heard an unusual noise but didn't think much about it. Whatever it was, it flew up into the fuselage area and we ended up with a fuel leak and a hydraulic fluid leak. The pilot circled for so long dropping fuel because if you try to land and there is any kind of spark with a full tank, you can only imagine what could happen. We flew so close to the airport so the tower could take a look at the underside of the plane to try and see the damage and if it was possible to land! At the time we wanted more information but I'm glad that we weren't given any - sure our imaginations run wild but the truth could only raise the fe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ars of all the passengers and then what do you do with a plane full of passe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ngers that are freaking out when you're in mid air trying to concentrate on landing the plane as safely as possible.  Needless to say, my hat goes off to the pilot. He did an amazing job of gingerly landing the plane and getting us all to safety.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not the type of person that says I'll never fly again. It's not realistic mostly because I live half way around the world from my family! But maybe the next time I fly I won't feel the jitters because statistically, the odds should be in my favor - at least for a few more flights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRRzzg5I/AAAAAAAAL3E/oyFrNX-qSC4/s1600-h/hosing+down+the+plane.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRRzzg5I/AAAAAAAAL3E/oyFrNX-qSC4/s320/hosing+down+the+plane.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351005630363829138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRgx_zzI/AAAAAAAAL3U/qiPrsYjL71s/s1600-h/shredded+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRgx_zzI/AAAAAAAAL3U/qiPrsYjL71s/s320/shredded+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351005634382778162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRR3ZYnI/AAAAAAAAL3M/9UNFZU3WT9U/s1600-h/shredded+tire.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRR3ZYnI/AAAAAAAAL3M/9UNFZU3WT9U/s320/shredded+tire.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351005630378893938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXREaJT3I/AAAAAAAAL28/GE_cRyQtT4I/s1600-h/successful+sunset.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXREaJT3I/AAAAAAAAL28/GE_cRyQtT4I/s320/successful+sunset.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351005626766544754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jason snapped this picture during our successful flight back to South Africa. It just seemed to capture our relief quite nicely. Be on the look out for a post from &lt;a href="http://puumaya.wordpress.com/"&gt;Jason's blog &lt;/a&gt;- Flat Stanley had to tell his side of the story too! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1639183602934918309?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1639183602934918309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1639183602934918309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1639183602934918309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1639183602934918309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/06/odd-are-now-in-my-favor.html' title='the odds are now in my favor'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SkKXRRzzg5I/AAAAAAAAL3E/oyFrNX-qSC4/s72-c/hosing+down+the+plane.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4842378947227305046</id><published>2009-05-27T08:53:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T09:11:02.911+02:00</updated><title type='text'>flat stanley goes to ethiopia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One day an envelope arrived in Christy &amp;amp; Jason's post box. A friend's nephew, Juan, sent his friend Flat Stanley to see another part of the world. Juan explained that Stanley was smooshed by a bulletin board that fell on top of him while he was sleeping. Th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;made it possible for Stanley to do all kinds of interesting things, including traveling to see differe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nt parts of the world. Lucky for Stanley, Christy &amp;amp; Jason were heading to Ethiopia for an adventure of their own. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stanley learned a lot about Ethiopia and got to see some fun places. He learned that Ethiopia is a very religious place - the Ethiopians believe in one of the oldes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;t for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ms of Ch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ristianity known as the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Shzkjjb6uFI/AAAAAAAALPg/ZOqDeyrqmWU/s1600-h/stanley+adopted+parents.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Shzkjjb6uFI/AAAAAAAALPg/ZOqDeyrqmWU/s320/stanley+adopted+parents.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340394557613455442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Their last day in the country, they decided to visit a famous mo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nastery called Debre Libanos. It's famous because it used to be the centre for the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. But in 1937 the fascists from the Italian occupation came to the monastery and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; shot 297 of the monks, 100 deacons, and more than 400 other people and completely destroyed the church. The new church was rebuilt in the 1950's by Haile Selassie, the last Emperor to rule over Ethiopia. Stanley  managed to climb on top of one of the fancy pillars to get a better view.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFMhX6xI/AAAAAAAALQI/cRaBKsdnrlg/s1600-h/stanley+on+the+ball.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFMhX6xI/AAAAAAAALQI/cRaBKsdnrlg/s320/stanley+on+the+ball.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340395135577877266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFVDmu-I/AAAAAAAALQY/h72AWSPuVEk/s1600-h/stanley+walking+up+to+cave.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFVDmu-I/AAAAAAAALQY/h72AWSPuVEk/s320/stanley+walking+up+to+cave.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340395137868938210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After seeing the church, Stanley, Christy &amp;amp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Jason walked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;for a few minutes through an empty river bed and up the side of a small mountain to visit a holy cave where an old and important priest prayed for over 25 years, standing the whole time. For  7 of those years, he only stood on one leg! Water that comes from the cave is considered very holy and can heal the sick so they keep barrels of it to give to the people that come to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzkkDP_TJI/AAAAAAAALP4/uyYGWxz7zrY/s1600-h/stanley+in+front+of+cave.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzkkDP_TJI/AAAAAAAALP4/uyYGWxz7zrY/s320/stanley+in+front+of+cave.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340394566153358482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlY1wNcAI/AAAAAAAALQg/at8jXmCdooI/s1600-h/stanley+with+holy+water+in+cave.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlY1wNcAI/AAAAAAAALQg/at8jXmCdooI/s320/stanley+with+holy+water+in+cave.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340395473063473154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On their way to lunch, the group passed through a traditional market &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;selling all kinds of seeds, beans, herbs and spices. Christy bought some herbs for her tea and Stanley tried not to get run over by all the people!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Shzkj8IgXFI/AAAAAAAALPo/fmDO8y2ihkA/s1600-h/stanley+at+the+market.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Shzkj8IgXFI/AAAAAAAALPo/fmDO8y2ihkA/s320/stanley+at+the+market.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340394564242922578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One of the best things Stanley saw that day was a very interesting bridge that was made over 400 years ago by the Portuguese. Back then they didn't have cement so they mixed limestone and ostrich egg shells together to make it. The bridge is still very sturdy! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlE4aJ8II/AAAAAAAALQA/w-Pcz5U4YZM/s1600-h/stanley+on+portuguese+bridge.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlE4aJ8II/AAAAAAAALQA/w-Pcz5U4YZM/s320/stanley+on+portuguese+bridge.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340395130178891906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After the long day, they finally made it back to Addis and to a very tasty traditional meal. Ethiopians eat a bread called injeera, which is fermented for a few days so it has a so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ur taste to it. It is flat like a pancake and looks like a sponge. With it people usually eat a l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ot of different types of meats, like dora wat (chicken with a boiled egg in a red spicey sauce), tibs (fried beef), lamb and goat. Ethiopians also love raw meat but Stanley, Christy &amp;amp; Jason weren't brave enough to try it. If you want a lot of vegetables you have to wait till Wednesday or Friday, the traditional fasting days, and then you can get a meal with just vegetables and fish, but no meat. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dinner that night, the waitress brought out their delicious tray of food &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;but she didn't see Stanley and flattened him again under the big plate of food. Christy &amp;amp; Jason rescued him and they ate like Ethiopians, using their hands and ripping off pieces of injeera to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;scoop up some of the meat. They even got to watch traditional dancers while they ate.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzkkMsJf8I/AAAAAAAALPw/Rr_Ad64EwBs/s1600-h/stanley+flattened+by+the+food.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzkkMsJf8I/AAAAAAAALPw/Rr_Ad64EwBs/s320/stanley+flattened+by+the+food.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340394568687386562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sadly, the next morning they had to say goodbye to Ethiopia and go back to South Africa. As they boarded their flight , they promised to come back because there is still so much more to see… AND  Christy LOVES the food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFVojL8I/AAAAAAAALQQ/AkqmYQM1vkw/s1600-h/stanley+on+the+plane.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ShzlFVojL8I/AAAAAAAALQQ/AkqmYQM1vkw/s320/stanley+on+the+plane.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340395138023894978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4842378947227305046?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4842378947227305046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4842378947227305046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4842378947227305046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4842378947227305046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/05/flat-stanley-goes-to-ethiopia.html' title='flat stanley goes to ethiopia'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Shzkjjb6uFI/AAAAAAAALPg/ZOqDeyrqmWU/s72-c/stanley+adopted+parents.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5303193407019837474</id><published>2009-05-13T12:44:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T13:21:25.398+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cooking sensation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel like a domestic goddess. I'm pretty sure I'm far from it but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;since I don't have a real job these days, cooking and baking help to fill the multitude of hours that pile up with nothing to fill them with. My latest excursion into the baking world was to make homemade ricotta cheese. And I did it! Chris and Lindsey gave me a cheesemaking kit awhile ago and I finally got around to trying it out. It's actually really simple to make! I can also make mozarella with this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; kit so that will be the next adventure. With our ricotta cheese we made a lasagna with spinach noodles and a homemade meat sauce - it was delicious. I did learn that you can salt the cheese and I think that will enhance the flavor even more next time around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqsEcF4u4I/AAAAAAAALPQ/hjU6ePLBwRU/s1600-h/whey+ricotta.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqsEcF4u4I/AAAAAAAALPQ/hjU6ePLBwRU/s320/whey+ricotta.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335265900834110338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqsEKB309I/AAAAAAAALPI/7U25VNiI3BE/s1600-h/jason+lasagna.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqsEKB309I/AAAAAAAALPI/7U25VNiI3BE/s320/jason+lasagna.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335265895985435602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And after you skim the curds off the top to get your ricotta - there is a ton of whey left but there was no way I could just toss it. So I put it in the fridge till I could figure out what to do with it. Evidently you can substitute whey for buttermilk or any liquid in cake, bread, pancakes, and other recipes. People even use it to cook rice, pasta or oatmeal in it because it adds flavor and protein. FUN! I decided to try out the basic buttermilk recipe in my peace corps cookbook - the cake turned out delicious. And for the icing I made it from icing sugar but used whey instead of milk - also yummy! &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Sgqs91ai1zI/AAAAAAAALPY/RRyTYpOUTPM/s1600-h/christy+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/Sgqs91ai1zI/AAAAAAAALPY/RRyTYpOUTPM/s320/christy+cake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335266886884185906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The next experiment was with buttermilk biscuits this morning. We're tr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ying to clear out our fridge before we head to Ethiopia for a week. So to complement our eggs &amp;amp; bacon, I made the biscuits, which turned out pretty good! They weren't as thick as I thought they'd be so I'll have to experiment with the ratios and I'm not sure exactly what it means to cut the butter into the flour - maybe I over did it? But they were tasty and Jason loved them! &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqrvZa_fUI/AAAAAAAALPA/4Tup9pEuwsI/s1600-h/biscuits.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqrvZa_fUI/AAAAAAAALPA/4Tup9pEuwsI/s320/biscuits.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335265539340074306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No matter! It's been fun and I have a bit more whey left over that I'll freeze for now and use when I get back. Can't wait for the next cooking adventure. But first I'm going to enjoy as much Ethiopian food as I can! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5303193407019837474?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5303193407019837474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5303193407019837474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5303193407019837474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5303193407019837474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/05/cooking-sensation.html' title='cooking sensation'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SgqsEcF4u4I/AAAAAAAALPQ/hjU6ePLBwRU/s72-c/whey+ricotta.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5017454194270484768</id><published>2009-04-17T12:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:57:53.076+02:00</updated><title type='text'>today I'm thankful for Facebook</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What do I do when I'm feeling very far away from my family and friends back home? I get online, first check my email (it's my homepage), then I immediately go to Facebook.  I find myself on the website more and more, wanting to know what people back home are doing, trying desperately to be connected with their lives. I have to confess, I love it. I don't love all the silly applications because with my slow internet connection, it just takes too long to deal with that aspect of the site. What I do love is how connected I suddenly feel to so many of my friends and family. People constantly update their status, they comment back and forth on each other's walls, post pictures of their new babies or recent trips - the site is genius for keeping people connected and informed about each others lives. This morning I found myself on a college friend's profile and found out she's preggars. We're not that close anymore but I think of her often and love that I can still peep into her life every so often. Ok, that sounds a little stalker-ish but she agreed to be my FB friend so technically it's a mutual agreement.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What's funny is how one sided email now feels. I find that so many people don't reply very quickly to messages sent (yes, I am also a culprit of this) and it can be frustrating. I'm desperate to know what's going on back home with my ever expanding family and my far flung friends, but they all have jobs and lives that keep them very busy so their response rate isn't quite what I would like - especially when my emails can end up being pages long, I'm sure it's intimidating to respond. But I can't fault them since I seem to have a lot of time on my hands these days and I do remember what it feels like to be busy. So when I turn to Facebook, my friends beautiful faces (or strange images) of their profile pics are staring at me, smiling and inviting me to see what's new on their page. Their status message is something cryptic so I have to inquire what they mean. Or I'll find someone has left a message on my wall or commented on a picture of mine. Someone will leave a quick 2 line message for me and it's as if the thousands of miles of ocean between us is suddenly erased. The lives of my godfather, my cousins, aunts and uncles, all those who I haven't spent enough time with, are suddenly illuminated and we're connected in a way that a put off phone call, belated birthday cards or mass emails just can't even contend with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jason laughs at those of us who spend so much time on the site - he thinks it's just another way for people to not communicate. I can agree on some levels - that's another reason why I don't like the applications, people invite you to join their zombie game or send you plants for your garden but there is no real interaction. It tells me nothing of how much you miss me or what's on your mind. So yes, it can be another way of not communicating but as with any form of communication, there has to be some kind of initiation. The simple act of giving a thumbs up or commenting on a picture opens the door a crack and that's all it takes sometimes. And in this way, Facebook makes it easier to stay connected to the lives that would otherwise be a complete mystery. And for this, I'm thankful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5017454194270484768?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5017454194270484768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5017454194270484768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5017454194270484768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5017454194270484768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/04/today-im-thankful-for-facebook.html' title='today I&apos;m thankful for Facebook'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5723236716312459786</id><published>2009-04-15T12:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:05:08.764+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the little job searching RPCV that could</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Job searching is not easy. In the past I was very fortunate because the jobs I found seemed almost to fall in my lap. I remember after graduating from Western, I sent out probably at least 50 resumes, all focused in the event planning industry in California. I had my heart set on moving there and starting life on the West coast. My backup plan was to work these leadership conferences until  something permanent came up - nothing did, I worked a few more conferences than I planned and ended up working for them full time. All the way on the other coast, in Washington DC. It worked out and there really wasn't a long period of time that I wasn't unemployed. And I'm happy that's the path that found me - it led me to many more amazing opportunities and people and now I've found myself an RPCV living in South Africa, living my dream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Now, the reality of this dream is that currently I'm unemployed and looking for both part time work to fill the next few months until we move to Durban and a full time job that I can start once we actually get there. I'm fortunate because Jason is able to support the both of us while I sit unemployed in our living room day after day. I've been trying to convince myself that my measly efforts over the past couple months were enough to justify staring at my computer most of the day. Only last week did I realize that maybe I should put a bit more effort into it - this time the jobs just aren't falling into my lap so clearly there is more that I need to be doing. I have to get out there and do the uncomfortable which mostly consists of inviting myself into organizations that aren't actually hiring at the moment, charm them and hope they either a) find a job for me to do, or b) remember me when a position does actually open up. This requires a level of confidence that is not always easy to come by and has therefore stopped me from setting up these meetings. And when I find myself surrounded by professionals in the field that have many more years of experience/knowledge and could possibly have contacts for me, sometimes I am plagued by the insecure thoughts that I just don't know enough, I'm not worthy.  Then I find myself in a situation where I should be spouting off about who I am and what I want to be doing but instead can't seem to spit a coherent word out and have just missed out on an opportunity to do some quality networking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So here's my pep talk to myself: I can do it, I am a smart, educated woman and I can be confident (even if inside I'm thoroughly intimidated). I may not know everything but that's ok - I will show them my willingness to learn and my passion about the field. Don't focus on the feeling of not having enough experience, highlight the last 2 years, where I gained valuable insights into non-profit works as well as development and working with the community (thank you peace corps). And as Jason put it, get over the feeling of insecurity - there will always be someone smarter, wiser, more experienced and that's ok. And if all else fails, just repeat "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." If a little engine can, so can I. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5723236716312459786?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5723236716312459786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5723236716312459786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5723236716312459786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5723236716312459786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/04/little-job-searching-rpcv-that-could.html' title='the little job searching RPCV that could'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3750416441523213976</id><published>2009-04-08T12:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T13:13:07.945+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ten new things in Durban</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jason and I went to Durban to meet up with some friends and run some errands. Our plans had to change a bit when the beast (Jason's work vehicle) broke down right before we arrived to the backpackers. I think he may have jinked it when he said, literally 2 minutes before the awful noise and the subsequent inability to drive above 1st gear, that the truck had been driving well and maybe the last repairs were all it needed. Damn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We managed to have a fun weekend anyway, complete with exploring new places in the city and some interesting experiences. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Went from zero to wasted in 20 minutes after taking 4 shots, shotgunning 2 Brutal Fruits and drinking a few beers - with 3 very large Afrikaaner men and one gangly. Despite their size, they love their fruity drinks/shots and Sambuca. I vow to never drink Sambuca again. Gives me chills just thinking about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Took public transport to the Essenwood Market. It's located in a nice part of town and has all kinds of trinkets to shop for - including an adorable bag made from fabric that comes from Mozambique and other great gift ideas. We had some yummy lunch and listened to a fun reggae band. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saw the beach at high tide, or at least since the water level has risen - the part of the beach we normally lay on was underwater and we were on top of the sand bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tried to shop for a bathing suit at both an ocean side mall and supposedly the l&lt;a href="http://www.gatewayworld.co.za/"&gt;argest (or 2nd largest) mall&lt;/a&gt; in the southern hemisphere - evidently the only people that wear bathing suits are the surfer girl waifs that can fit into itty bitty bikini's that wouldn't even hold one boob or cheek of a normal sized woman! Not a successful shopping trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Had a delicious moroccan dinner on Davenport Rd - this great little undiscovered area (and non-touristy) that has amazing restaurants, a used book store, yoga and an organic shop that sells tahini and amazing smoothies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Went to the beautiful Durban Botanic gardens and had a picnic - met my friend's sort of boyfriend Max, who comes well prepared to a picnic and is full of great information and conversation!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saw &lt;a href="http://www.freshlyground.com/"&gt;Freshlyground&lt;/a&gt;, a fun South African band, in concert at the Botanic Gardens - but by the time I decided to get up and dance at the front of the crowd, it turned out to be their last song. Next time I won't be so slow moving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Finally visited the SunCoast Casino, which has tons of restaurants, both chain/cheesy as well as more upscale/classy, a movie theatre and yes, lots of slot machines and gambling - oh and a large population of Indians. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Had another fabulous dinner at a Cuban restaurant at the casino and had a really amazing meal complete with a mango martini. Yum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saw a movie (Gran Torino) without buying popcorn - that is a first for me and Jason, we love our popcorn. Maybe that's why I was so critical of the movie/actors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Got to the bus station to head to Johannesburg on Monday and found out the bus drivers were on strike. I got to ride a sub par bus line and managed to be on the road for almost 2 hours longer than necessary. Compared to other bad bus stories, I'm not complaining, but it was a new experience worthy of mentioning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ok, so it was 11, and not 10, but who cares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3750416441523213976?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3750416441523213976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3750416441523213976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3750416441523213976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3750416441523213976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/04/ten-new-things-in-durban.html' title='ten new things in Durban'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1977650177364042229</id><published>2009-03-19T14:31:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T14:59:26.851+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cozy home</title><content type='html'>It's about time I introduce you to my new home in South Africa. Jason is working on a project in the Umzimkulu settlement so our home base is Ixopo at least for a few more months - it's in the KZN Province where there is TONS of rain and things to do on the weekends - a bit different from the dry somewhat dull life in Limpopo . We live on Shamrock Farm - Nick, the guy who lives here is setting up a camp for troubled youth so there is a lot of property that we are able to explore. He has a granny flat that we live in, which has 2 bedrooms, is furnished and for the most part is quite comfortable. When I first got here it rained non stop - for every 3 or 4 days of rain (and I mean constant rain), there was maybe a day or a few hours of sun. It was a bit isolating and after a few days of being stuck inside, I would start to go a bit stir crazy. But it seems that the massive rains have abated and now we have at least even number of sunny days to rainy ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CoGgbDI/AAAAAAAALGU/4zPGtMzgNz0/s1600-h/shamrock+farm.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CoGgbDI/AAAAAAAALGU/4zPGtMzgNz0/s320/shamrock+farm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314879824607603762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CwCpouI/AAAAAAAALGc/oA5EvV9hIKk/s1600-h/me+in+front+of+house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CwCpouI/AAAAAAAALGc/oA5EvV9hIKk/s320/me+in+front+of+house.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314879826738914018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CyLpziI/AAAAAAAALGk/ipwUScjcihY/s1600-h/jason+office.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CyLpziI/AAAAAAAALGk/ipwUScjcihY/s320/jason+office.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314879827313544738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Jason's office/the spare room/camping gear storage/place where I have all of my extra stuff that doesn't fit into a bookshelf or a dresser drawer. I don’t spend much time in here but Jason does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_DHmCtBI/AAAAAAAALGs/nM8odAuvb8k/s1600-h/living+room.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_DHmCtBI/AAAAAAAALGs/nM8odAuvb8k/s320/living+room.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314879833061372946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our living room that is my base of operations during the days. I usually spend many hours glued to my computer doing various things. Or I read on the couch. Or I work on crossword puzzles. What I wouldn't give for some Law &amp;amp; Order or CSI reruns!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_DEpoRBI/AAAAAAAALG0/-rEQPW5SAXE/s1600-h/kitchen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_DEpoRBI/AAAAAAAALG0/-rEQPW5SAXE/s320/kitchen.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314879832271111186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As you can probably see, the only thing that is wrong with this little kitchen is the lack of counter space. We LOVE cooking and so preparing the meals is mostly a dance around each other and fighting over who gets the surface for chopping vegetables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScJAjlL1QnI/AAAAAAAALG8/94Ws9K0H8ZM/s1600-h/sheena.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScJAjlL1QnI/AAAAAAAALG8/94Ws9K0H8ZM/s320/sheena.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314881490271945330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Sheena, she's usually outside when we open the door. She's a slut for love and barely let's us get our shoes on before a jog - she jumps and licks and gets terribly jealous if you give Tango any love at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9GOu52kI/AAAAAAAALGM/ZMh4inntluk/s1600-h/tango.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9GOu52kI/AAAAAAAALGM/ZMh4inntluk/s320/tango.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314877687493941826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Tango - he's a ridgeback, hence the weird fur ridge on his back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9F10kFEI/AAAAAAAALF0/ZT8x0CvjTLI/s1600-h/bedroom.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9F10kFEI/AAAAAAAALF0/ZT8x0CvjTLI/s320/bedroom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314877680806794306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9Fln_NfI/AAAAAAAALFs/UN-R6lFZZjQ/s1600-h/bathroom.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9Fln_NfI/AAAAAAAALFs/UN-R6lFZZjQ/s320/bathroom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314877676459079154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9F6eIpkI/AAAAAAAALF8/T7gD9g3QdEk/s1600-h/the+beast+landcruiser.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9F6eIpkI/AAAAAAAALF8/T7gD9g3QdEk/s320/the+beast+landcruiser.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314877682054899266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the other rooms explain themselves. The truck though, is special - a 1970's Landcruiser. This is the beast that Jason drives for work and currently, until we buy another car, what we use to get out and about on weekends. She doesn't go above 110 km/h so we generally are never in a hurry, which is nice. He likes that it has a wench and has even had to use twice to get himself unstuck. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9GNkhb-I/AAAAAAAALGE/FVs0rZC_YCQ/s1600-h/jason+at+work.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI9GNkhb-I/AAAAAAAALGE/FVs0rZC_YCQ/s320/jason+at+work.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314877687181963234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1977650177364042229?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1977650177364042229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1977650177364042229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1977650177364042229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1977650177364042229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/03/cozy-home.html' title='cozy home'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/ScI_CoGgbDI/AAAAAAAALGU/4zPGtMzgNz0/s72-c/shamrock+farm.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8104247734330351097</id><published>2009-02-10T16:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T16:31:53.794+02:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome back to Africa</title><content type='html'>And now I'm back in South Africa. As I was in the car on the way from the airport to Leigh's house, I was in disbelief that I was already back here. It's so cliché to say it but I can't believe how the last 3 months really flew by! After 2 1/2 weeks in Washington DC, witnessing the Inauguration and spending time with my friends and family that live there, I wasn't so sure I was ready to come back. I like life in the city, hopping on the metro to go places, going out at night, visiting the museums/memorials,  just city life in general. I can't say that I was a huge fan of the cold but I could adjust to that again. Regardless of my unsettled feelings, I got on the plane, if for no other reason than to not waste the amazing bargain I got for the fare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately after getting off the plane, I was greeted by the typical TIA (this is africa) moment - a very long queue at the "All Other Passports" customs counter. Despite my best efforts, my carry on bags were still ridiculously heavy so slowly going through the line was not fun, especially after 30 hours of traveling and very little sleep.  But with my new found sense of patience (thank you peace corps) I was ready to accept my fate and then was pleasantly surprised when the peeps in charge finally utilized the empty counters for the "African" and "South African" passport areas. The plus side of waiting in the line was that my bags were already on the carousel waiting for me at baggage claim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another TIA moment happened when I finally made it out of the baggage area and needed to find a pay phone to call Leigh, who was picking me up. The first person I asked to direct me to the pay phones actually directed me to the pay as you go phones at the end of the terminal so that didn't help. The next person directed me to the other end of the terminal to an Eskom store, that had phones but not  for public use. The next person finally set me straight and directed me to the public phones. After all the running around (this time with a cart for my luggage so that was at least helpful) it all comes down to the right terminology, which I had forgotten. I made the call, although I needed to dial twice since the money went so quickly I didn't have enough time to put more in before it disconnected me.  I had nothing to worry about though, Leigh was running late as usual, so I had plenty of time to wait, which is another thing you do a lot of in Africa.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a 7 hour nap, a delicious dinner followed by Sue's famous homemade ice cream and another few hours of sleep, I was ready to make the long drive to my final destination, my new home in Ixopo with Jason. This morning I had a very non-TIA experience, the car rental agency was actually early to pick me up! This was great since I hadn't realized how long the drive was so the earlier start I could get, the better. When I got to the agency, as I was waiting for them to get my keys and contract in order, I noticed a man outside whistling while cutting the grass. This was the ultimate TIA moment - the man was on his hands and knees cutting the grass with a pair of garden clippers. Just earlier during the car ride I saw these men on the side of the road cutting the grass with an edger or a weed whacker and I thought to myself that was probably not the fastest or most efficient way of doing things - and now this! I felt bad for the guy but he didn't seem too bothered - was just whistling and doing his job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome back to South Africa! There are a lot of different things in this country that take some adjusting back to but there are also a lot of great things that I'm happy to be surrounded by again - like free baggage carts at the airport, really cheap and delicious produce, GORGEOUS scenery, easy to manage pay as you go phones, appletizers, a great selection of Lindt chocolate and Jason. Really, this girl will somehow manage a happy life here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8104247734330351097?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8104247734330351097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8104247734330351097' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8104247734330351097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8104247734330351097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/02/welcome-back-to-africa.html' title='welcome back to Africa'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6436276708748771839</id><published>2009-02-01T18:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T18:28:46.686+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ten hours in London</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A few months ago I found a great deal on a ticket back to South Africa - less than $1000! I took it knowing full well I had a very long layover in London. Now that I'm actually in the midst of my 2 day adventure, I just wish I had a cozy bed to sleep in - mostly because I have a cold. But no crying from me, I took full advantage and embarked on a cold adventure maneuvering around the airport, finding where to leave my luggage and then hopping on the tube to get into the city. I got to watch the Covent Garden market people setting up their stalls and then enjoyed a tasty breakfast at a little local coffee shop. Even though I was exhausted and a bit chilly, going back and sitting around the airport was not an option so I followed my map and just walked around town. At one point it snowed, there were about a million motorcycles in the street around Trafalgar Square honking their horns and there was a Chinese New Year celebration with fireworks. I was close to Buckingham Palace when the fireworks went off and I thought the town was crumbling around us - sortof overshadowed the changing of the guard but I wasn't close enough to see that anyway so I just kept walking. Then I walked a little more and saw Big Ben and Parliament and all I could think of was Chevy Chase in European Vacation - "look kids...". I have a ton of pictures because what else was I going to do. now I'm back in the airport killing some more time before my flight opens up for boarding. I'm exhausted - don't think I slept a wink on the first flight despite the fact that I was stretched out on an entire row of seats. Cross your fingers for the next flight...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6436276708748771839?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6436276708748771839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6436276708748771839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6436276708748771839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6436276708748771839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/02/ten-hours-in-london.html' title='ten hours in London'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6698647657845722744</id><published>2009-01-24T22:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T06:38:49.033+02:00</updated><title type='text'>plug for pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For those that are interested, here is the link to my pictures. I've uploaded pictures from the adventurous Inauguration week, my recon trip to Puerto Rico, as well as older photos from my trip to Namibia last October. When you have a few minutes, enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/hotarded"&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/hotarded&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6698647657845722744?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6698647657845722744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6698647657845722744' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6698647657845722744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6698647657845722744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/01/plug-for-pictures.html' title='plug for pictures'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8610540725030435527</id><published>2009-01-24T22:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T06:33:29.040+02:00</updated><title type='text'>inuaguration high</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My toes feel funny, my feet still hurt and at this point, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever fully recover from this amazing week. Physically I hope I do, emotionally I hope it stays with me forever. I’ve been in DC for almost 2 weeks now and the v&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ibe is incredible sti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ll. I wo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;rked the Presidential Inaugural Conference with 800 other staff members, watching out fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;r and facilitating activities for 15,000 high achieving scholars. That’s right, I said fifteen thousand! A highly ambitious number considering the biggest conference they’ve ever put o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n was for 2,000 studen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ts. It &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;was chaos and cr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;azy most of the time, not to say a little bit unorganized but that’s not what I’m here to go on and on about. I was apart of the inauguration festivities!! Not only did I get to go to the openin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;g celebration concert and the actual inaugur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ation, I also got to hear Colin Powell and Al Gore speak. It was all part of the conference activities. While discussing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; with the students what they thought of the two speakers, the general consensus was that Al Gore was a little boring (which isn’t a surprising observation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;) and Colin Powell was inspiring. I won&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;’t argue with that – Colin Powell was amazing but I was still happy to hear from Al &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Gore, even it h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e’s not the most dynamic speaker out there. There were also smaller sessions with Mary Matalin and Jame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;s Carville as well as Tucker Carlson and Paul Begala, but I only got to hear Mary &amp;amp; James. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvnaPnrTEI/AAAAAAAAKyM/JuFg3hZ2YQs/s1600-h/DSCF1460.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvnaPnrTEI/AAAAAAAAKyM/JuFg3hZ2YQs/s320/DSCF1460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295080224959712322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvnZwBvDzI/AAAAAAAAKyE/izDYuh1pX5s/s1600-h/DSCF1458.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvnZwBvDzI/AAAAAAAAKyE/izDYuh1pX5s/s320/DSCF1458.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295080216479076146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The best part of c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ourse was the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; actua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;l Inauguration. There were a lot of students that were really upset because they thought we were going to have actual tickets. No dice but that didn’t bother me at all – who cares when just being there apart of this amazing historical event was enough. In order to ensure that we could get good spots, a group of us left at 4:30 am – it was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; advised that we walk instead of take the metro. Good advice and a great way to keep u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;s toa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sty for the early morning 20 degree weather. Our hotel was about 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;5 miles away and we were able to get good spots fairly close to the Capital building, which we found at around 5:30 am. We then pro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ceeded to stand and freeze for the next 6 hours until the ceremony actually started. We were told that you couldn’t bring bags or food onto the mall, so we didn’t. Evidently, those instructions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; were for the ticketed areas only and we could have brought blankets and whatever we wanted! We toughed it out and when t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;he ceremony was over, started the trek back t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;o the hotel. That was an adventure in itself as we kept having to double back and find a route that actually led us across Independence Ave and around the parade route which was blocked off at that point. We figured it out eventually and made it back to the hotel by 3:30pm. Needless to say we were exhausted from being on our feet for 11 hours and starving since we had consisted on only a few granola bars, mini Snickers and a mini bottle of water that I rationed with my new friends S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;cotty and Alan. All of this made the day adventurous but to hear Barack Oba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ma give his speech once he was sworn in as the President just made the day what it was – historica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;l and amazing. Bearing witness to a peaceful transition of power and knowing that my country elected this m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;an that is bringing about chan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ge in so many good ways, it really does make me proud to say I’m from America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpKsx7A4I/AAAAAAAAKyc/ypRDuHvJWBQ/s1600-h/DSCF1504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpKsx7A4I/AAAAAAAAKyc/ypRDuHvJWBQ/s320/DSCF1504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295082156932662146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpKkGS_ZI/AAAAAAAAKyk/_6neel43PtI/s1600-h/DSCF1507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpKkGS_ZI/AAAAAAAAKyk/_6neel43PtI/s320/DSCF1507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295082154602200466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpK935MXI/AAAAAAAAKys/WkZ7FId47W4/s1600-h/DSCF1533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpK935MXI/AAAAAAAAKys/WkZ7FId47W4/s320/DSCF1533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295082161521111410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m still on a high and recovering from all the amazing events – we had a gala that evening for our students at the Air and Space Museum (sans alcohol since we had underage students) and then some friends and I decided to continue the celebration and take advantage of the bars that stayed open till 4 am that night. Eric and I rallied, stayed up till our&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; 5 am shift and showed up wearing our formal wear. Although I won’t lie, by 7:30 am I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Seriously, I was nodding off the second my eyes blinked! The students l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eft the following day and we had another fun filled night at the Hirshorn Mu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;seum where our staff party was held – open bar! It was a great way to end the crazy conference week and celebrate with all the new friends that I made. We went out with a bang, no doubt about it. It will be a long time before I wear 3 inch heels again – my poor toes are still recovering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpk6Cu8KI/AAAAAAAAKy0/ADQSzswR-KM/s1600-h/DSCF1561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvpk6Cu8KI/AAAAAAAAKy0/ADQSzswR-KM/s320/DSCF1561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295082607169433762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvplPOq7OI/AAAAAAAAKy8/CpaPWhgGa5I/s1600-h/DSCF1592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvplPOq7OI/AAAAAAAAKy8/CpaPWhgGa5I/s320/DSCF1592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295082612856646882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8610540725030435527?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8610540725030435527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8610540725030435527' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8610540725030435527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8610540725030435527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2009/01/inuaguration-high.html' title='inuaguration high'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SXvnaPnrTEI/AAAAAAAAKyM/JuFg3hZ2YQs/s72-c/DSCF1460.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-492028148432324174</id><published>2008-11-03T20:24:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:35:01.246+02:00</updated><title type='text'>vote!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;this was sent to me in an email from my aunt - thought I'd share on the eve of election day. People, get out and vote!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"This is to help all us see how racism works:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if John McCain was a former president of  the Harvard Law Review?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating  class?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if McCain was still married  to the first woman he said "I do" to? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Obama was the candidate who was unfaithful and left his first wife after she no longer measured up to his standards? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Michelle Obama was a  wife who not only became addicted to pain killers, but acquired them illegally through her charitable organization? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Obama were a member of  the Keating-5? (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keating_Five"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keating_Five&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if McCain were a charismatic, eloquent speaker?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if Obama’s son helped manage a bank into oblivion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What if McCain had two lovely young girls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;If these questions reflected reality, do you really believe the election numbers would be as close as they are? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You are The Boss... which team would you hire?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;With America facing historic debt, 2  wars, stumbling health care, a weakened dollar, all-time high prison population, mortgage crises, bank foreclosures, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Educational  Background:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Obama:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Columbia University -  B.A. Political Science with a Specialization in International Relations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Harvard - Juris Doctor (J.D.) Magna Cum Laude&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Biden:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;University of Delaware - B.A.  in History and B.A. in Political Science.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Syracuse  University College of Law - Juris Doctor (J.D.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;vs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;McCain:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;United States Naval Academy -  Class rank: 894 of 899&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Palin:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Hawaii  Pacific University - 1 semester&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;North Idaho College - 2 semesters  - general study&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;University of Idaho - 2 semesters -  journalism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Matanuska-Susitna College - 1 semester&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;University of Idaho - 3 semesters - B.A. in Journalism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now, which team are you going to hire ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;PS: What if Barack Obama had an unwed, pregnant teenage daughter...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-492028148432324174?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/492028148432324174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=492028148432324174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/492028148432324174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/492028148432324174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/11/vote.html' title='vote!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1141374718621663956</id><published>2008-10-09T22:03:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T22:10:18.489+02:00</updated><title type='text'>have some catching up to do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well it's been awhile sad to say but for good reason - I have been living it up post peace corps by traveling to Namibia with my PC friend Kristen and her younger sister Lindsey, who strangely enough has the exact same b-day as Katie and was born the same year - so it was like having Katie around only Lindsey is blond and she got us hooked on the "that's what she said" theme of the trip. There are tons of stories and I won't pretend to go into them all right now - I've only just returned and am sitting at an internet cafe in cape town with only a few more minutes before my time expires (or Kristen, she likes to go to bed early).  So don't give up on me friends and family - I'll be sharing a few key stories in the next week while I'm hanging out at Jason's place before I head back to the states on 23 Oct. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1141374718621663956?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1141374718621663956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1141374718621663956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1141374718621663956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1141374718621663956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/10/have-some-catching-up-to-do.html' title='have some catching up to do...'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8961270903182085992</id><published>2008-09-07T11:28:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T07:38:31.442+02:00</updated><title type='text'>my home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It’s so close but it doesn’t even seem real. There is still so much stuff in my little house that I can’t really believe I’m leaving in just 2 short days. I’ve packed a lot of my things but then there are things that I’m giving away. I think it would be sad if my room was too bare. It makes me think of the first night I got to this place – the day we were sworn in as volunteers. I had no idea what to expect because when I had come for a visit a few weeks earlier, I had stayed somewhere different that didn’t end up working out. The night we showed up to Annah’s house, it was chaotic with the greetings and my mom called as I arrived, adding to the craziness and I think Jason called too. When they showed me the room it was so empty it even echoed a bit like a new house does. I had all the essentials like the wardrobe, single bed, table &amp;amp; chair and I was even lucky enough to have a bookcase, comfy chair, stove/oven and a refrigerator but it had that unlived in feeling. But I was so happy to have my own room, outside of the main house, with electricity – I had a huge smile on my face as I went to sleep that night. At that time I only had 2 bags so I didn’t quite fill out the room. It’s amazing how much stuff (crap?) I can accumulate in 2 years! The space has definitely evolved to become my home, my little safe haven away from world; A place that I could tuck into to escape the constant attention and the expectations. Eventually I got a bigger bed and a desk and although the space was limited, I made it work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244633436942933506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SMiuUtoengI/AAAAAAAAHmQ/zybWalr7VjM/s320/bed.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the bookcase and all the books and movies that I would stare at deciding which was next. And I love the bed too. Carol (my host sister) let me use it for a few months back when my mom first came for a visit. Then I asked if I could just use it for the rest of my time (otherwise it would just in sit in the house unused). We struck a compromise and I paid her R50 a month to essentially rent the bed. The mini comfy chair was also great, most of my time in my room was spent sitting there either reading, watching a movie, eating, or just playing on my computer. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244633426089287938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SMiuUFMxIQI/AAAAAAAAHmI/VxP0j5YKecY/s320/wardrobe.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wardrobe was a pain because it didn’t have space to hang anything, only shelves and for the longest time it had a broken door. But it worked and hid the ridiculous amounts of toiletries that I have. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244633441668483314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SMiuU_PIyPI/AAAAAAAAHmY/vC7z8PX2jdI/s320/kitchen.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kitchen corner/bathroom/storage area was essential to my survival but mostly used to make simple, if not sub par, meals and of course bathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now it’s time to neatly fold all these memories up and move on to the next exciting adventures. I’ve only a few things left to pack and a few more goodbyes to give and then I’m on my way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8961270903182085992?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8961270903182085992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8961270903182085992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8961270903182085992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8961270903182085992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-home.html' title='my home'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SMiuUtoengI/AAAAAAAAHmQ/zybWalr7VjM/s72-c/bed.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2840866286646462998</id><published>2008-08-27T16:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:54:35.238+02:00</updated><title type='text'>painting happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I woke up in a really bad mood. It was overcast and after the rough day I had yesterday (lots of time wasted by waiting for people, got home after dark at 6:30, which is really late), I didn’t want to do anything but stay curled up in my cozy bed. But I can hold off going pee for only so long and since the toilet is outside and I have to get decent before I leave my house, usually by the time I come back from the toilet, I’m wide awake. So despite the intimidating clouds, I braved the weather set off for the office to start my last project. I want to paint the office, cheer it up a bit for the staff and paint a big version of our logo on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked down the road I didn’t really think about this and instead went over all the confrontations I wanted to have so I could wallow in my bad mood. But I knew this wasn’t going to get me anywhere so I tried hard to turn my bad mood around. I immediately got a ride and the guy driving was really friendly and that helped. I was surprised when I got to the office and no one was there but I just got down to work clearing things out and scraping the walls. The German guys showed up (they are here for a month volunteering for Phedišang, not sure if I’ve introduced them yet) and wanted to use the internet and they were in luck because no one was in the office working on the computers. It was nice to have them around (despite the fact that they were some of the people I wanted to have choice words with, mostly because they are a bit too attached to the internet and harass me to use it every day – and caused us to be really late getting home on Monday) and they helped reach the really high spots on the ceilings – they both are extremely tall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, around 12:30 I got really hungry and had to stop. I went outside and asked the cooks for some water to wash off the white paint on my hands so I could eat. Jeanette, one of the cooks, brought me a bucket of water and I started washing but she must not have liked my style because she grabbed my hands and took over the job. She first scrubbed my right hand and used tons of soap before moving on to the left hand to repeat the process. She was talking with the other women in Sepedi the whole time and I couldn’t quite understand what they were talking about but paraffin was mentioned. Next thing you know she’s put a bit of paraffin on my hand telling me that it will help get the paint off. After she was finished I dried my hands on my pants as usual and was about to go and get my bread with peanut butter but she stopped me and told me to wash my hands again to get the paraffin off – good call. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was only taking a short break to put food in my mouth – I went right back in a few minutes later and finished painting the first coat and got a bit more paint on my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping to leave the office early today but I’m offering my moral support to Charity and Suzan while they go over the financial report. I could be upset about staying late at work again but I’m going to try my hardest not to be – at least I am spending time with two of the most important people from my time here. The time with C &amp;amp; S is just as valuable, even if I am just sitting next to them, not actually saying much – there is always the journey home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2840866286646462998?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2840866286646462998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2840866286646462998' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2840866286646462998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2840866286646462998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/08/painting-happiness.html' title='painting happiness'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-8536911001059791096</id><published>2008-08-24T21:01:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T21:14:24.722+02:00</updated><title type='text'>girls work weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One of the projects I’ve worked on during my two years involves a girl’s high school from Johannesburg coming out to Phedišang for a work weekend. The idea manifested itself one night while I was sitting at the dinner table with Leigh and Sue – we were having one of our many discussions about Phedišang’s potential and how it doesn’t take two years of living in a different country to be socially aware. We discussed the two worlds’ that twist and turn around each other to make up the complex but amazing country of South Africa. There are so many South Africans that have never seen the country like I am experiencing it – because of their Apartheid history, many white people would never even contemplate stepping foot inside a community like the one I live in (I know this because I’ve had a few people actually tell me this exact thing). I truly believe that in order to break down the stereotypes, we have to overcome that fear of the unknown and expose ourselves. I think even for Leigh’s family, who have visited this area for years, were surprised that a young woman would choose to spend two years of her life, living in this rural community. Once they saw that I was making it work, not afraid as long as I took the proper precautions, we got to talking seriously about letting Katherine, their 15 year old daughter, come and spend a few days with me in the village. The McLean’s have proven to be my surrogate family and I care for Katherine and Richard as if they were my own siblings, wanting for them the best that this world has to offer but also making sure they get a well-rounded view of it. That’s why I thought it was so important the Katie and Teresa (my real younger sisters) got to come and spend some time with me, not just in South Africa, but in my village, working with me and meeting my friends and family there. There is so much about the experience that just can’t be put into words but I know will stay with them (and me) for years to come – hopefully shaping the way they view life just a little bit differently. What I’m getting at is that it doesn’t take a lot to be socially conscious, just a willingness to open one’s eyes and step outside of comfort zones, if only for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that dinner table conversation (and I’m sure the many others that we would have that would lead into the late hours and really define my Joburg experience), an idea was formed and we planned, stressed and pulled off a weekend where nine 10th grade girls from Roedean School (the one that Katherine attends) stepped outside of their comfortable worlds of heated floors, indoor plumbing and cable TV and came to Phedišang Limpopo for a weekend in late July of 2007. They stayed in the secret haven of the London Mission – located relatively close to our centres/office but even more peaceful and with an incredible view of the mountains. They slept on thin mattresses on the floor, braved the pit toilets (sometimes even in the dark) and the outdoor showers (which I cherished) and the lack of electricity in the building they were staying in. Overall the weekend was a success; we learned what worked – the bathrooms weren’t that big an issue, the activities were a hit as well as the home visits to some of the Phedišang girl’s houses. And what didn’t work – forced one on one interaction with the Phedišang girls, too much debriefing and expecting the Roedean girls to talk about their feelings. After discussions with the Phedišang kids and the Roedean girls, we decided we could do it again the next year, tweak a few things and have even more girls so we could go to all 6 of the Phedišang centres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first weekend of August 2008, we had another successful weekend with the Roedean girls. This year the energy was completely different. The first group of girls had no idea what to expect and were a lot more timid going into the weekend. This group of girls arrived at the mission with a spirit and energy that surprised and enchanted me. They were a strong group of girls, no doubt prepared by the previous group but also because of their own ambitions. They spent Friday afternoon meeting the kids at their respective centres and then two long days, Saturday and Sunday, working on wall murals, posters and learning some of the crafts that the Phedišang kids do, as well as traditional games and dances. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Monday was the last day, and after a few hours at the centres, where they put the finishing touches on their projects, we brought all the Roedean girls back to the Mission, along with the Phedišang Leaders they had been working closely with throughout the weekend. It was a beautiful night and while some were preparing the braai dinner, a few others were working together with their leaders on whatever they were going to perform for the variety show later than night. I had been running around, doing whatever I could to help and when I ran up to Charlotte (the Roedean woman in charge of the weekend), she looked at me and although I don’t remember her exact words, it was then that I looked around and saw that this was what it was all about. We were cooking porridge in one area, others were beating drums, groups of Roedean girls and Phedišang leaders were practicing together in different spots – and it all just felt natural and right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the night was wonderful, with good food and a fun variety show that even had a little dancing and singing from the “adults” of the weekend. The weekend was long but amazing, and surprisingly had only one conflict to speak of. The girls didn’t let it cripple their support of each other and hopefully those involved learned a valuable lesson; that sometimes the right thing to do is not always the comfortable choice. The experience will stay with the Phedišang kids for a long time and hopefully help open the minds of the Roedean girls as they go through life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-8536911001059791096?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/8536911001059791096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=8536911001059791096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8536911001059791096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/8536911001059791096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-projects-ive-worked-on-during-my.html' title='girls work weekend'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3044307250674734739</id><published>2008-08-20T23:29:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T23:31:18.355+02:00</updated><title type='text'>insignificant walks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Less than 3 weeks left in the village. It’s crazy to think that in 3 weeks, all of my stuff will be packed up, my pictures and cards taken off the walls and I’ll really be walking away from this place. Two years here – it certainly doesn’t seem like it and in so many ways I don’t want to say goodbye to my friends. I know I’ll be back but it will be different. The quiet calm of the village will be far away once I’m living in the city again. I’m trying to enjoy each little thing, grasp it fully before it slips away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I hung out with Tanya for a bit. It wasn’t necessarily work related at all but it was necessary. Our time is almost through, our friendship destined to change. We went and hung out with Megan for a bit and then we walked to the post office. A seemingly insignificant event but one of the things I’ll remember a long time from now when everything is a bit fuzzy and many things forgotten. The walks to the post office, always eventful with someone (usually a child) calling us lehua (white person) no matter how many times we tell them our names. Sometimes we would vent during the 40 minutes about work stresses or gush about our great boyfriends or just talk about life, what we want to do, where we want to go, who we want to be. We would share letters and packages on the way back, and talk about how friends and families back home, wishing more people would write, hoping tomorrow would be a better mail day. We greet people constantly, try to ignore the drunk men, try to stand the many children that when they get it right, just scream out our names, no matter if we acknowledge them or not. The walks to the post office are filled with these insignificant moments that completely embody what my experience has been like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main road to the post office is being tarred. For good reason the construction crews have put rows of rocks to stop cars and taxis from driving on the road because it’s not quite finished. But the people just move the rocks out of the way and drive down the road, too fast and scare the pedestrians. Today I decided that it was our job to put the rocks back. As we walked down the road, we dragged, carried, pushed and heaved the bigger rocks back to their rows to try and prevent those rule breakers from driving down the road. We got a lot of strange looks, some people laughed but we didn’t care and it was fun. And then we watched as one taxi went around our road block. Then another car stopped, got our his car, moved the rocks, got back in the car and drove the 20 feet to the next row, and repeated his process. I would think that the other road would be faster and more efficient for them but they evidently have their reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A seemingly insignificant day, with seemingly insignificant events yet fulfilling in so many ways. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3044307250674734739?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3044307250674734739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3044307250674734739' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3044307250674734739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3044307250674734739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/08/insignificant-walks.html' title='insignificant walks'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3335613067902305872</id><published>2008-07-25T20:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T20:26:28.110+02:00</updated><title type='text'>hotards in south africa: durban</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And so Friday we headed back to Joburg to stay with Heather Bellew before catching a flight back to Durban on Saturday. We had a nice dinner with Heather’s family and then we ducked out to catch a movie. I had been dying to see Sex and the City while it was still in the theatre and so we made our way to the theatre, bought ice cream and pop corn and enjoyed the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We navigated our way to the airport and returned the car and hoped that the rental car wouldn’t notice the scratch (ok, it was more like a gash) I had made while we were in Limpopo. One of the mornings I was trying to protect the poor undercarriage of the car from the huge bump going into my house. We managed to avoid scraping going in one direction but trying to go out at the same angle proved a bit more difficult and I ended up scraping the door on the brick post. Oops. Lucky we had insurance and the rental car guy didn’t actually notice it. I made Katie and Teresa run through the car park just in case he changed his mind called us back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were met in Durban by Pat and Francois who had graciously offered to put the 3 of us up while mom was still on the ACTS retreat. They were the sweetest hosts, offered us delicious food, made 2 birthday carrot cakes and even took us to the mall so I could find a shirt to wear the next day. They were part of the ACTS retreat last year so they we were all able to go to Candlelight to see mom and the others from Texas for a few minutes before the big reunion the next day at Sunday mass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228502890463908210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9frVU0UXI/AAAAAAAAHlw/hsQWZexN87A/s320/pat+%26+francois.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was also my birthday and it proved to be a spectacular day – I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate than with two of my sisters, my mom and my fiancé! After mass and a nice lunch, we headed to the hotel to check in and rest up for a bit. In the afternoon we walked on the beach, got our feet wet, admired sand sculptures and just goofed off a bit. We headed back to Taco Zulu for my birthday dinner and enjoyed another night of Mexican food and even a shot of Patron tequila! When we got back to the hotel we met up with some others from the retreat and had more drinks. Mom ordered a white Russian, Teresa ordered a non-alcoholic Pina colada and I tried to get a dirty martini – Katie and Jason ordered beers which turned out to be the better option. Teresa’s drink turned out to be a red fruity thing, mom’s was an interesting looking shot and my dirty martini was pink with cherries AND red olives (not pitted).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228503375132446690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9gHi2zT-I/AAAAAAAAHmA/yXEXxYJtOpQ/s320/teresa+christy+bday.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228503374256974578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9gHfmEqvI/AAAAAAAAHl4/OjQeJMVWJRU/s320/tequila++shot.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was devoted to shopping at the Victoria Street Market. Jason debated if he should stay back and work but we won him over and he came with us. Not sure if it was the better option because we shopped for 4 solid hours! He was amazed at how much stuff was bought! Finally we were rewarded with a very late lunch (early dinner) at the Wharf, where we had bunny chow. Basically it’s a hollowed out loaf of bread with curry inside. We didn’t order the hot ones but we were all sniveling messes when we were done – but happy because it was so good. We goofed around as we left the wharf and Katie and I decided to play on the mechanical rides. The rest of the evening we spent relaxing in the hotel room and enjoying our last night together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228502887650514786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9frK2DV2I/AAAAAAAAHlY/1hS1siJelAI/s320/christy+katie+rides.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly we all boarded planes the next day. Although I wasn’t on the same flight as the girls, we met up at the terminal and we hung out for a few more hours before they headed back to board their international flight. It was hard to believe their visit was over – I won’t lie, a few tears escaped once they walked past security. It’s amazing how much fun I can have with them and just how much I love them (even those the 3+ that weren’t actually here). Sometimes I wonder why I live so far away but it’s apart of life and the old adage is true, distance does make the heart grow fonder. Or is it time? I don’t know but either way, I do love them more every day despite the time elapsed and the distance between us. My cup over floweth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228502890286000354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9frUqZqOI/AAAAAAAAHlo/iIhb2LjWE8s/s320/mom+christy+goodbye.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228502889448715106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9frRixs2I/AAAAAAAAHlg/PJcNYITimjs/s320/katie+christy+teresa+goodbye.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3335613067902305872?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3335613067902305872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3335613067902305872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3335613067902305872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3335613067902305872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/hotards-in-south-africa-durban.html' title='hotards in south africa: durban'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9frVU0UXI/AAAAAAAAHlw/hsQWZexN87A/s72-c/pat+%26+francois.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2103269659651481498</id><published>2008-07-25T19:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T20:19:38.921+02:00</updated><title type='text'>hotards in south africa: limpopo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After spending the night in Durban, Katie, Teresa and I sadly parted ways with mom – she was staying on in Durban and meeting up with the ACTS ladies and we were heading up to Joburg then Limpopo to experience village life. We managed to survive the excessively early morning, made our flight in plenty of time, did a bit of shopping once we got to Joburg and then had dinner (and stayed with) Leigh and his family. We left the next morning for Turkey village with a stuffed to the brim car and an extra Tanya and Sofia. The drive was fun but longer than I anticipated and we made it the village after dark. The girls were good sports though and they didn’t mind having their first pit toilet experience with the stars shining overhead. Luckily that was not the night we met our rat friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few days in the village we worked hard and painted a world map mural at one of the drop-in centres. I had to do a bit of work but managed to delegate (thanks Nick!) some of it so I could enjoy the time with my sisters. Amazingly, we finished the map in 2 ½ days – we definitely wouldn’t have finished if Nick hadn’t helped us paint all the water. You don’t realize how much 80% of water is until you paint it! Megan helped us out too and we were able to finish (second coats even) the painting of the countries on the last day. To involve the kids at the centres, we had them put their hand prints all around as a border for it – they loved it and instead of wasting paint, we finished off the left over paint by putting our handprints all over the water tanks. It was fun and the kids really seemed to enjoy it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228495381444671682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9Y2QDHuMI/AAAAAAAAHjY/DV7myvMnB9I/s320/christy+katie+map+water.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228498438198009810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9boLV6H9I/AAAAAAAAHkY/8RLDPZ_AQQM/s320/kid+making+handprints.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499280867482978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9cZOh93WI/AAAAAAAAHlA/g5GOR9vqL1o/s320/world+map+handprints.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228501071431936834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9eBc5zK0I/AAAAAAAAHlI/lAnMrLwkuDg/s320/handprints+water+tank.JPG" border="0" /&gt;During the evenings we visited my friends around the village before heading home to cook dinner. They met Rosen and his family and we were invited to watch a DVD of old Celine Dion music. At Nathacia’s house we were treated to fresh from the oven biscuits and cold drink before they got their hair braided by some of the girls. Most of the time we cooked yummy dinners except for one night – I had no desire to endure another night of prep work, cooking and clean up so we stuffed ourselves on gummy hamburgers/hot dogs, mentos, nutella and pretzels and who knows what else. This was also the night when we had to wash our hair. We took turns washing each others hair, then we each bathed and in the end, the entire process took two hours. There wouldn’t have been enough time to cook dinner anyway… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228497129506340114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9acAFf_RI/AAAAAAAAHkA/ziWqpxc2lqM/s320/katie+dishes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228497134614809266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9acTHdCrI/AAAAAAAAHkQ/llYAxePR6pU/s320/katie+teresa+hair+braiding.JPG" border="0" /&gt;  I had been planning to have a party with a bunch of my friends in the village for awhile so I thought the perfect time was while my sisters were around. On the last day I made a grocery run with Susan and then I came back and made sure that the girls were up. Then Katie, Teresa, Susan and I ventured out to buy 6 chickens for the party. We bought them, carried them home and then proceeded to cut their heads off with a dull knife. PETA would have a hissy if they were around but that’s the way it’s done here. Ok, we were probably a bit slower than the professionals and my first clue was when Setlau said to Katie in a desperate voice – “SPEED”! We each had our turn and then helped prepare the rest of the meal. Teresa helped Annah with cutting up the chickens and cleaning them, Katie helped Susan chop vegetables and I managed to look busy although I don’t recall actually doing much but taking pictures! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228497129591735266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9acAZ3A-I/AAAAAAAAHkI/OFrpiD9jivA/s320/katie+teresa+chickens.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228495388542115170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9Y2qfSHWI/AAAAAAAAHjg/YkVf8z2a8Dc/s320/christy+killing+chicken.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2 o’clock rolled around and I started getting nervous because we had a lot of food and no one was showing up. But it’s Africa and people started showing up around 3:30. Rosen brought over his sound system so we had music playing and were dancing to Sarafina and Mangogroove before the big meal. We had to eat before dark so we soon chowed down on the delicious meal of pap, fried chicken, boiled cabbage (which is REALLY good – either that or I’ve been eating traditional food too long) and soup stew thing that you eat with the pap. It was delicious and all the party goers managed to leave no scraps but plenty of dirty dishes. Annah insisted that they would clean them the next day which was really sweet considering the girls and I were peacing out then to head back to Joburg. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228501827481433762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9etdaC9qI/AAAAAAAAHlQ/2mLyku5Sm94/s320/eating+dinner.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We adequately fulfilled one of the Peace Corps goals by introducing to the party a piñata. Mom had sent it the year before but I didn’t get to use it for the intended use (a Cinco de Mayo party) so I thought this was a perfect occasion. Katie and Teresa had filled it with tons of candy they brought from home – jolly ranchers, gummy hamburgers and starbursts. After explaining to everyone what we do, Matome shyly was cajoled into giving Winnie the Pooh (it was exactly a traditional piñata) a whack with the stick. A few pieces of candy flew out and then Madala stepped up to bat. His whack sent the thing flying and the candy spilled out which, of course, caused a mad chaotic dash for the candy. Kids of all ages including a woman with a baby strapped to her back and the new manager for Phedišang, Charity, were among the horde. They were completely perplexed by this custom from America but enjoyed it none-the-less. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228498439089748578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9boOqg-mI/AAAAAAAAHkg/EbUxg2w2iHs/s320/matome+pinata.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued the party and danced to traditional music till it was well past dark. Everyone was out there, even my shy host mother, Annah, all the other mothers, Nick, and the girls. Teresa was hit on by Sydney and he even gave her his phone number before he had to leave for the evening. We had some birthday cake that Elayna had made – oh yea, this was partially to celebrate my birthday which was coming up in a few days. Soon people had to leave and I drove the PCV’s home as promised and then I came back to settle in for the night with Katie and Teresa. They had such a good time and loved every aspect of the day – cooking and the prep work, playing with the kids, dancing, the piñata, the pictures, all of it. I had to agree – it was a great day and I was happy to share the day with my sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228495378543549330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9Y2FPcG5I/AAAAAAAAHjQ/sx4IHlEctsc/s320/annah+christy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228496370184695490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9ZvzZHLsI/AAAAAAAAHjo/7FCzCrXVzNA/s320/jessica+katie.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228498440809080018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9boVEb5NI/AAAAAAAAHkw/NyV5ymBmaas/s320/susan+christy+charity.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228498441525267330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9boXvMC4I/AAAAAAAAHko/BwhJRaBzMak/s320/teresa+sydney.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly we had to leave on Friday but we did make a side trip to see Jessica the Hippo. Katie, Teresa and Nick were fascinated by her and fell instantly in love. Our visit was quick so we could make the 5 hour drive, with a lunch stop, and get to Johannesburg before dark. A fun ending to a fantastic week!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228496370153586530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9ZvzRsf2I/AAAAAAAAHjw/dxQY2Dtz3xQ/s320/jessica+the+hippo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2103269659651481498?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2103269659651481498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2103269659651481498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2103269659651481498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2103269659651481498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/hotards-in-south-africa-limpopo.html' title='hotards in south africa: limpopo'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI9Y2QDHuMI/AAAAAAAAHjY/DV7myvMnB9I/s72-c/christy+katie+map+water.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4431131506307020653</id><published>2008-07-24T22:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T23:02:42.597+02:00</updated><title type='text'>hotards in south africa: hluhluwe imfolozi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Soon we left for Hluhluwe Imfolozi Game Park in hopes of seeing some serious animals in their natural habitat. We weren’t disappointed and ended up seeing zebras staring us down, a pack of wild dogs (sightings of them are VERY rare), a rhino peeing REALLY close to the car, giraffes, plenty of impala and warthogs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169636511363330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wlZm-MQI/AAAAAAAAHiY/e5vR2ZNH530/s320/zebra+stare+down.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169194806660242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wLsIXTJI/AAAAAAAAHh4/OZJZxIz-JFM/s320/rhino.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169597022447778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wjGgFKKI/AAAAAAAAHiQ/1bKyRlceNKE/s320/wild+dog.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169591062807586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wiwTMRCI/AAAAAAAAHiI/qlang_X0DcI/s320/teresa+giraffe.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We splurged and took a night drive in one of the camp’s big safari vehicles. We didn’t see much for the first hour but soon we saw one elephant, then a couple and then we realized we were surrounded by a herd of them – most of them with new little additions that were adorable. We had big spot lights and were shining them on this one in particular. He turned around really quickly and we got quite a scare but he just stood there staring at us. Eventually our driver left (to Katie and Teresa’s relief) and as we left the elephant let out this HUGE trumpet call and we screamed – it was such a majestic, terrifying but amazing sound! As we were heading down the road our guide stopped the vehicle, hopped out and ran over to the brush on the side of the road. He came back with a beautiful chameleon – it had been white on the brush but it quickly turned green. He has good eyes to spot that little guy in the dark! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228171518136704034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4yS7NaXCI/AAAAAAAAHi4/__6vcC-FNCo/s320/before+the+drive.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169197920561090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wL3uxp8I/AAAAAAAAHiA/wkfGWyLr-Dg/s320/sunset.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228168793583194418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4v0VdPETI/AAAAAAAAHhg/kYcUVVYX5ZM/s320/chameleon.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our chalets were on a hill and we had a great view and even saw buffalo and a troop of baboons right outside our rooms one day. The camp was really nice and we played around a bit, enjoyed the buffet dinners a little too much and had relaxing evenings. Katie even attempted a little zulu dancing which was hysterical!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228171523949616898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4yTQ3UXwI/AAAAAAAAHjA/e2Iu6j_mngs/s320/chalet+view.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228168799187999698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4v0qVhm9I/AAAAAAAAHho/tgvT97L05EY/s320/christy+trouble+tree.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228168790613995554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4v0KZUsCI/AAAAAAAAHhY/6B379ZAtcZ8/s320/30+chalet.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228169187821086386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wLSG35rI/AAAAAAAAHhw/z4fjyd0EAfA/s320/passage+to+chalet.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228171530873724482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4yTqqJ3kI/AAAAAAAAHjI/-56EQiKraQ0/s320/katie+zulu+dancing.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended our stay at the part on the 4th of July and spent most of the day driving through the park seeking out more animals. No big stories but of course it was fun and scenic. We then headed to Durban where we spent the evening with some of my PCV friends and had dinner at Taco Zulu – the best (and possibly only) Mexican food restaurant in South Africa. Their first week was packed with lots of driving but lots of fun memorable experiences!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4431131506307020653?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4431131506307020653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4431131506307020653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4431131506307020653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4431131506307020653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/hotards-in-south-africa-hluhluwe.html' title='hotards in south africa: hluhluwe imfolozi'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4wlZm-MQI/AAAAAAAAHiY/e5vR2ZNH530/s72-c/zebra+stare+down.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6936908380455240257</id><published>2008-07-24T22:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T22:42:56.487+02:00</updated><title type='text'>hotards in south africa: st. lucia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mom, Katie and Teresa spent 2 weeks in South Africa with me. It was amazing – last year when my mom visited it was surreal having her here with me. This year was no different except that there was A LOT more laughing and a lot more tears because we were laughing so hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They arrived Saturday evening and were delayed but in good spirits. Jason and I met them at the airport and then we went to the backpackers where they had Welcome to South Africa gift bags awaiting them. We stayed up late into the night talking, catching up and eating some of the South African goodies I had packed the bags with. We left for St. Lucia on Sunday (minus Jason), stopped to visit my friend Alycia and were welcomed by a wonderful woman named Monica, at the bed &amp;amp; breakfast, who made us feel right at home. She even hugged Mom and told her how lucky she was to have most of her girls in one place! We enjoyed a really tasty seafood dinner at this hole in the wall restaurant called Fishy Pete’s (I think) – it was excellent and I think it’s the best place we ate while we were in St. Lucia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we woke up before the sun was even contemplating getting up to catch a ride out to the water for our whale watching experience. I was of course hungry and decided to share some dried pineapples with the girls while we waited for our friendly guides to show up. We were giddy with excitement by the time we got to the ocean. We hopped on the boat and donned the ugly raincoats and life vests but were happy for the added layer of warmth. It was a bumpy ride out going over the enormous waves but it smoothed out. That didn’t last long – we ended up in the middle of a bumpy current on the look out for either breeching whales or the mist from their blow holes. Once sited, we would head in that direction. It didn’t take long and we were off to find our friends. We saw a beautiful whale breech right before the sun rose – what an amazing site. Soon we were actually fairly close to a young male and he kept swimming around our boat. After awhile I succumbed to the sickening feeling of constantly be jerked up and down by the waves and had to sit down. Turns out I wasn’t the only one – Teresa was already lying down, Mom was sitting hoping she didn’t have to puke and Katie and I decided we had no shame and threw up over the side of the boat. Mom eventually did too and right as she was looking up the whale swam by – what a better view than a porcelain lid! Our ride came to an end and we went full speed ahead and beached the boat right on the sand. We were instantly cured of our seasickness once we were on land and most us (maybe not Mom) agreed that we would probably do it again if given the chance – minus the dried pineapple appetizers! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166475868128242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4ttbS5w_I/AAAAAAAAHg4/kADcu4vhcS0/s320/whale+watching+the+boat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166124385536514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4tY967CgI/AAAAAAAAHgY/53FDPhX8tpA/s320/mom+whale+watching.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228168038557546834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4vIYxF-VI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/BnCHdWMFCWQ/s320/girls+after+whale+watching.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of our stay in St. Lucia was relaxing and decadent complete with lazy mornings and an amazing breakfast each morning. We visited a crocodile reserve and saw hippos in the estuary. We had car trouble one night – I couldn’t (and neither could anyone else that stopped to help) get the car to start, the key wouldn’t even turn! So we waited over 2 hours for the new one to come and of course once we made the change, the guy was able to start the car no problem. Oh well – there weren’t any extra costs for us, unless you consider the round of drinks we had while waiting. Overall, a great start to our holiday. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228165453567973170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4sx67jVzI/AAAAAAAAHgA/qFNrKv6gR68/s320/crocodiles+oh+my.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228165829845507010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4tH0rG28I/AAAAAAAAHgQ/rAYVvkr3XcU/s320/katie+croc.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166472200210930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4ttNoZyfI/AAAAAAAAHgw/xYOI2wbG1cQ/s320/wheel+chair+croc+sign.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228165829911250450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4tH06yBhI/AAAAAAAAHgI/Gz3RqRb4Itg/s320/girls+and+flower.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166122277000898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4tY2ENVsI/AAAAAAAAHgg/H9KMJSbTbV0/s320/teresa+mom.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166465794087858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4ts1xEG7I/AAAAAAAAHgo/4yFaMPIhlOw/s320/the+girls+st+lucia.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166767916838178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4t-bQvbSI/AAAAAAAAHhA/UnrEHqV6Es4/s320/waiting+for+the+car.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228166772411610530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4t-sAYNaI/AAAAAAAAHhI/r5gtoX0-8as/s320/i+heart+jar.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6936908380455240257?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6936908380455240257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6936908380455240257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6936908380455240257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6936908380455240257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/hotards-in-south-africa-st-lucia.html' title='hotards in south africa: st. lucia'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SI4ttbS5w_I/AAAAAAAAHg4/kADcu4vhcS0/s72-c/whale+watching+the+boat.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4290448840762480263</id><published>2008-07-23T21:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T21:35:39.579+02:00</updated><title type='text'>toilet excursions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There is a rat in my pit toilet. Not actually down the hole but actually running around the rafters of the superstructure (that’s a word I learned from Jason!). The first time I met him was with Katie and Teresa while they were visiting. We would take a nightly trip out to the toilet together, mostly because we all had to go but some times one of us would just go for the moral support. Katie was the moral supporter that night and since I’m the seasoned pit toilet frequenter, I was the first to go, to make sure nothing was lurking in the corners. I walked in and flashed my head lamp around and saw this HUGE rat in the corner of the wood beams at the ceiling. I ran out screaming, which caused Katie and Teresa to scream a bit, and then laugh. Then I was laughing trying to explain to them that the entire almost 2 years that I’ve lived here, I have never seen such a thing lurking around anywhere. While Katie is trying to stop laughing, I venture back to the toilet and see him again, in the same spot only this time my screaming startled him and as I ran out again, he scurried away, the noise of him running creeping me out even more. At this point we’re all laughing so hard we can barely keep our pee in and actually some of us couldn’t keep the farts in and as she laughed she tooted quite rhythmically (I won’t mention who so as not to embarrass her too much) – which made us laugh even harder. As this point, rat or no rat, I had to go so I braved it one more time and was happy to see that the rat had smartly vacated the premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn’t see the big guy again during their visit and I wasn’t sure he would ever make an appearance again but he did – tonight. I went out to use the facilities and as I walk in and flash the light again, he scurried away, freaking me out. I let out a quiet shriek and covered my head just in case he decided to lose his balance and fall on me. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t actually standing under the roof, I had to protect myself. And so I thought of Katie and Teresa, and wished I could share the moment with them. Alas, they are home now but I will always think of them when I’m going to the pit toilet after it’s dark, wondering if I’ll have another encounter with the rat again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4290448840762480263?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4290448840762480263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4290448840762480263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4290448840762480263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4290448840762480263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/toilet-excursions.html' title='toilet excursions'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-7492801121375670844</id><published>2008-07-22T19:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:07:08.496+02:00</updated><title type='text'>happiness is simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today was a good day. I might even go so far as say it was a great day. We had a meeting with our OVC (orphan and vulnerable children) Carers and one of them brought her little sweet 1 year old niece with her. The little girls name is Once More – the first time I heard that I nearly keeled over with laughter, I can just imagine what made them come up with that name…Anyway, she’s adorable and while most of the meeting was being conducted in Sepedi, I played with her. She sat on my lap, was fascinated by my hair and played with it a lot. Mostly just being around little kids like this (any kid really) warms my heart. After the meeting we played some music for the carers so they could learn it and teach the kids at the centres. They loved it and Susan started dancing and of course I had to join her, then little Once More did too. Then a few of the carers were dancing with us and it was an impromptu dance party. Music and dancing really make me happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then walked to Butswana centre – a nice hour long walk in beautiful weather so no complaints – where we had to talk to the Pre School principal and that went smoothly. After that, we played fireball with the kids at that centre – best 3 out of 5 games and it came down to the last one but my team won. Fireball, by the way, was introduced to our centres by one the first German volunteer we had, Michaela. It’s basically an adapted version of dodge ball. I’m terrible at these types of games and proved it by getting hit early on in each round. But it was fun and the kids were animated and excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the last game it was 4 o’clock and time to go home so we hopped on a taxi and I went back to my home in Turkey village. Susan has decided she wants to learn how to ride a bike so I brought my bike over to her house and she had her first lesson. It was great watching her master it – going from just one turn of the pedals then falling, to 3 turns then all the way down the street before falling. She’s so excited about it and determined to be able to ride all the way to Enable village where our office is. That was exactly how I was hoping to spend my evening – hanging out with my friends in the village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I’m home, I’ve made some really great popcorn (Teresa you were absolutely right, there are definitely things you can’t scrimp on – popcorn is definitely one – and toilet paper too) seasoned with bacon salt and a touch of garlic. I’m going to bathe quickly and settle in to watch a movie. The perfect way to wind down after a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS – stories from my mom and sisters visit are coming soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-7492801121375670844?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/7492801121375670844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=7492801121375670844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7492801121375670844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7492801121375670844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/happiness-is-simple.html' title='happiness is simple'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1771191997592770356</id><published>2008-07-20T23:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T11:22:24.161+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It’s a great story of how Jason procured the ring so I have to share. Evidently Jason had been thinking about proposing for about 7 months prior to flying to the states in June. He went home with the intention of asking his mother if he could use his grandmother’s rings. The first night he’s in town, he was out with his parents at a wedding reception and his dad asks if he’s seen what they’ve done with Momar’s rings; they had them reset with some of Ann Marie’s diamonds. Clearly that option was out so Jason told them his plan and they made an appointment to see a jeweler right before he was going to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he had a chance to go, out of the clear blue my mom emailed him and said that she didn’t want to be pushy but that she knows we’ve been talking about the future and marriage. All she wanted to do was offer Jason her mother’s rings for whenever the time was right. He said that when he got that email all he could do was laugh. He called my parents a few hours later and they got a huge shock (and were supremely happy) when he revealed his plan and asked for their blessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Jason proposed and we were back in the comforts of the backpackers, we called my parents (actually, we texted them and they called us back) and they were ecstatic. My mom said that when Jason called it was a big shock but they were excited and she immediately told everyone else in the family but of course everyone was sworn to secrecy. She said that after Dad hung up the phone he had the same dazed look on his face that he had the day my mom told him she was preggars with Teresa (who was a COMPLETE surprise). Two daughters engaged at once – who would ever have thought that would happen?! I’m sure my dad never dreamed of it but they are excited and seem open to having one of those weddings in Puerto Rico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225394559163487250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRUqo4y1BI/AAAAAAAAHec/6haCIsnLFI0/s320/ring2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225395018753606898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRVFY_nhPI/AAAAAAAAHek/tFb5ADZIr0E/s320/ring+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1771191997592770356?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1771191997592770356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1771191997592770356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1771191997592770356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1771191997592770356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/ring.html' title='the ring'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRUqo4y1BI/AAAAAAAAHec/6haCIsnLFI0/s72-c/ring2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6206838911666824030</id><published>2008-07-20T22:39:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T11:49:44.335+02:00</updated><title type='text'>his birthday but my surprise</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It’s been while since I last wrote and now it’s a little daunting to think about all the stuff I want to write about to catch up. But it should be fun to recount all the memories because the last month has proven to be absolutely amazing. And what kick started the amazing adventure is the long holiday weekend that I took advantage of with Jason to celebrate his birthday on June 14. I had been scheming behind his back to put together a surprise, a book that included letters and pictures from his friends and family to celebrate his first 30 years of life. The response was great and I spent the two weeks prior to his arrival back in South Africa (he’d gone home for a visit and a conference) putting together his masterpiece. I finished the book the morning we departed for our mountain getaway – a long weekend of hiking in the Drakensburg Mountains near the Bergville area. We set off in our little rented Volkswagen Chico with a big box wrapped in fun African paper and Jason’s interest peaked. Little did I know that there was another surprise packed in that car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was actually Jason’s 30th birthday and I was so giddy to give him his gift that there was no way we could hike before he opened his present. Mission accomplished: he had absolutely no idea that this was the big surprise I had been planning. We spent awhile just going through each page, reading the letters and looking at the pictures and reminiscing about his life. It was a great way to start the day. Then we finally climbed out of our reverie and headed for a beautiful hike in the Cathedral Peak area, Rainbow Gorge. The main attraction of the hike is this massive boulder that is suspended in air by these other two huge boulders and then a waterfall that creates all these rainbows from the mist. However we didn’t quite make it that far, partly because I was a bit of wus and got tired of crossing back and forth over the river. I fear falling in and injuring myself severely because of the terrible shoes I have – old running shoes with no traction. Although Jason was patient, I could tell he wanted to go further but I’d had enough for the day. He’s a good man and didn’t push me so we headed back. I am sad that we didn’t get to see all the beauty and am eager to go back once I have a quality pair of hiking boots and we can get an earlier start. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225401169027390594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRarYjJ3II/AAAAAAAAHfk/go9hoEvuf6k/s320/jason+camera+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225400804567119746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRaWK1Dd4I/AAAAAAAAHfI/DJXHmfw_Qwc/s320/christy+river.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we decided to hike Tugela Gorge – it’s another beautiful hike that leads to the base of the 2nd tallest waterfall in the world, Tugela Falls. Jason hiked this area about 6 years before with his friend D after he finished his PC service. That time the weather was horrible and they had 2 near death experiences in two consecutive days. We were lucky this time and had amazingly clear weather the entire weekend (this also may have had something to do with the time of year – they went during the raining season!). I was a bit sluggish during the morning part of the hike – 4 hours of hiking the day before so my body was trying to tell me to ease into it. We weren’t rushed to go anywhere so we took our leisure time and enjoyed the scenery as we made our way deeper into the gorge. Finally we made it to the river bed that led us to these caves and a chain ladder that would take you up and over to the other side of the caves towards the falls. We scrambled over rocks and boulders and checked out the caves but there were quite a few people going up and down the ladder so we decided it was a good time to take our lunch break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we finished eating we were just lounging on our rocks when Jason stood up. I was not ready to continue hiking so I asked him why he was standing. He mumbled something about stretching I think and then draped himself across my lap. I was looking down at him and he asked what I was thinking about. I’ve always promised that I would answer that question honestly and not make anything up to be more intelligent or romantics so I was truthful and said his baseball hat. We play this game a lot so I knew it was my turn to ask him what he was thinking about. Thanks to my inability to recall what is said at important moments in my life, I don’t have a clear recollection of the way Jason actually phrased this next part. Essentially he said that he loved exploring and traveling the world with me and that he would like to do it for the rest of our lives (I only found this out after I’d told the story wrong a few times and he finally corrected me). I agreed and said that I wanted that as well. I do remember him saying, ‘on that note’ as he reached down for something. At that moment my eyes must have gone to the size of saucers and as he brought up the little box he asked me if I would marry him. All I could reply was ‘really?’ which I repeated over and over probably ten times. We opened the box and as I’m staring at the ring he had to ask just to be sure if my answer was yes. Of course it was/is and I gave him a huge hug and a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I’m admiring the ring he asks if I know whose it is. I guessed his grandmother and he shook his head and told me it was my grandmother’s. Immediately I knew it was my Tata’s and that’s when the tears came to my eyes. (I’ll give you the story of the ring later.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We basked in our little world for a bit longer and then decided to finish our hike up the chain ladders. We continued on for awhile and although we didn’t get to the base of the falls, we did manage to find a few amazing sites like this huge boulder that was cracked straight through. Eventually we had to head back before it got dark and the entire time I just kept asking questions about his plan and daydreamed a bit about the possibilities for the big day and our life together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225388964827058242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRPlAXDUEI/AAAAAAAAHd8/OfwwOCf0eV8/s320/jasonme+engaged!.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The next day we ventured out again to climb to the top of the Tugela Falls. According to the backpackers you should only take the hike with their guides but the park itself doesn’t mandate that so we decided to venture out on our own with a couple other guys, Johnny and Roy, we met at the backpackers. The hike was a lot of uphill but fun with our new hiking partners. There were a set of chain ladders, more intense than the day before but it was worth it when we got to the top. There was some ice and snow (remember, it is actually our winter) and we had a few snowball fights along the walk. The little river that leads you to the falls doesn’t seem like much but when we got to the edge of the amphitheatre it was breathtaking. We stayed at the top for awhile just enjoying our surroundings – our friends made a snowman, we ate lunch, took tons of pictures, took our shoes and socks off and relaxed before gathering up our stuff and heading back down the chain ladders and the mountain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225402024805036738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRbdMkccsI/AAAAAAAAHf4/8RcTBoIiRH8/s320/gorge+view.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225389886586036002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRQaqLhHyI/AAAAAAAAHeE/-4kvHWLztPU/s320/christy+ladder.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225390350848681090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRQ1rsW5II/AAAAAAAAHeU/iL_3yJOR26U/s320/jason+roy+ladders.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, is the description of one of the best weekends in the world. Jason also wrote about it on his blog so you may want to compare our stories if you’re interested – check out the link on the right side of this page. We haven’t set a date just yet but we have our hearts set on tying the knot in Puerto Rico in late December 2009. Stay tuned for updates…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225389891735903634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRQa9XV3ZI/AAAAAAAAHeM/Il-XQ0XtJ1w/s320/jasonme+sentinel.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6206838911666824030?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6206838911666824030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6206838911666824030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6206838911666824030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6206838911666824030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/07/his-birthday-but-my-surprise.html' title='his birthday but my surprise'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SIRarYjJ3II/AAAAAAAAHfk/go9hoEvuf6k/s72-c/jason+camera+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1286932944971038097</id><published>2008-06-10T22:05:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T06:22:53.778+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a gross story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On Sunday I spent something like 12 hours cleaning my room from top to bottom to make sure it's ready for my sisters visit in July. Plus, I hadn't cleaned my room, I mean really clean, in a really long time so I was over due. I had noticed a few cockroach infestations that I wanted to eradicate for my sake as well as my sisters. While I was cleaning I had a few gagging moments when I discovered a new hiding places for the disgusting little suckers (at least they are the little ones, not the big ones) - in a six pack of bottled water and my duffel bags were by far the worst. I'm sure my neighbors wondered what the crazy white woman was doing outside: I kept throwing the bags against the ground to get all them out and then danced around stepping on as many as possible. After I moved everything out of the room and swept 9 times and got on my hands and knees to scrub the floor, I sprinkled Blue Death all around the edges of the room and in strategic places. Blue Death is supposed to be amazing and help keep all kinds of critters away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today and bathed (not the gross part, I do bathe regularly) and washed my hair. It was really freakin' cold so I decided to blow dry my hair. I haven't used my dryer probably since last September. After I turned it on I smelled something a little funny. I quickly turned the thing off and shook it – only to have a few last straggling cockroaches come tumbling out. DISGUSTING! I screamed, jumped around trying to stomp and kill them before they scurried away to find a new hiding place. I banged the dryer against the floor for 10 minutes before I was convinced that no more were coming out and that it was ok to blow dry my hair again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What a way to start my day! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1286932944971038097?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1286932944971038097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1286932944971038097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1286932944971038097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1286932944971038097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/06/gross-story.html' title='a gross story'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5221943297768111828</id><published>2008-06-04T18:26:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T18:33:24.851+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day in the village...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Susan and I went to Enable today. She lives next door to me so if we’re working together for the day, we’ll leave together. Today she comes out sporting white high heels. She introduces them to me by saying she’s on top today – she’s taller than everyone else. She looked hot but I shook my head as I looked down at my sensible village shoes, my chacos. Lucky for her we got our ride to Enable but while we were walking through the village to the office, she tripped and almost fell. She said that when you’re on top you have to be careful because you’ll always fall. We laughed when we both caught the double meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I was frustrated with Maria (my supervisor) because she failed to communicate again, not just to me but to Susan and Charity as well. But I found her when I was on my way to the Kodumela office and we were able to catch up and chat about everything that we needed to. We disagreed on some things but agreed on others. Our talks always seem to take place in a car and today was no different. At least I got a free ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on I was in a meeting with our committee members and down from the rafters a lizard fell right square on my head. I squirmed and then he was on my chest. I let a little “eeek” escape and shook him off. Right in the middle of the meeting! But two seconds later, we were right back on topic, no one really phased. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meeting I offered catering to the committee and they declined. Two minutes later they decide they want cold drink and bread at least. I send one of the committee off with R100 for food, not thinking he would spend it all. He returns with 7 bottles of cold drink and 7 loaves of bread, successfully having spent all but a few rand. There were only 8 of us in the meeting. I got upset with them because that was way too much food and a waste of the money but they don’t seem to do anything in small portions when it comes to food. And after I gave them the money for transport, they all piled in the truck and got free rides home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was packing up and planning to go buy a grilled chicken (it’s delicious, grilled outside over a fire and smothered in hot sauce) to bring home for dinner I heard the far off growling of thunder. Lucky for me I had left my rain jacket at the office the other day when I actually thought it might rain (and of course it didn’t). By the time I got to my village the rain was coming down but I had my jacket and ended up getting a ride to my street so I wasn’t too drenched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home Annah asked who told me that it was going to rain today, how did I know to be prepared? No one told me, it was just luck that I left it at the office the day before. We laughed together at my good fortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the storm is here, complete with the loud reverberating sounds of thunder and the threatening streaks of lightning. I’m already cozy in my pajamas just about ready to dig into my dinner of fresh picked green beans, hot juicy chicken and a loaf of white bread (yes, I took one from the committee!). Just another typical day of village life…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5221943297768111828?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5221943297768111828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5221943297768111828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5221943297768111828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5221943297768111828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-another-day-in-village.html' title='Just another day in the village...'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-4416500556934375442</id><published>2008-05-25T14:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T21:06:05.802+02:00</updated><title type='text'>trusting humanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I haven’t told you about my friend Ahmed. I met Ahmed one Saturday, right in the middle of the weeks when I would say that our dear old friend Murphy was visiting – everything that could go wrong was going wrong, or so it seemed at the time. Ahmed is from Pakistan and he repairs cell phones. And I happened to meet him because my nice little Ferrari phone that liked to jump out of my pocket and hit the ground from various heights, decided that it had one too many thrills and died on me. I went to sleep one night, plugged and tucked it in only to wake up the next morning to a cold, expensive paperweight that still made the cool engine sound but was otherwise useless. I couldn’t let myself get too emotional, it was inevitable but of course it wasn’t a convenient time, it never is really but was worried because it was the end of the pay period (read: no money left in the bank).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my plans changed and Nick (the new PCV working for my organization – not sure if I’ve introduced him yet) and I headed to Tzaneen with less than a plan, only hope that something would work out and I could have a working phone at least by the end of the day. Well, town proved to be a challenge – Nick had to eat as soon as we got there and I said I would but shouldn’t have, considering I was having serious intestinal problems (all day long was dealing with that unpleasantness). Then it turned out Nick ended up leaving his card in the atm machine and so we ran around trying to figure out a solution to that issue as well. We attempted to solve the phone issue but ended up running from one end of town to the other chasing a store that kept changing locations, depending on who you asked for directions. By the time we found the Vodacom store it was closed and all I could do was sit down and cry for a moment. Nick was sweet and let me do my thing and then he suggested we find one of those hole in the wall stores that advertise cell phone repairs. The first one was a bust but the second one we found proved to be the bright spot in an otherwise gloomy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter my new friend Ahmed. He said that he would look at the phone, right then and there and he even asked me how much I could pay. I warned him that I was a broke volunteer and then suggested R50. He laughed and said that if he could fix it, he would only charge me R100. I pinned my hopes on this very nice Pakistani man and proceeded to wait and chat with his friends for about an hour. When he finally came back he didn’t have good news but my spirits were lifted because he said there was a chance he could fix it if I came back during the week when his shop was actually open. When I asked him where I could go to buy a cheap phone so I could have something for the weekend, he said that I shouldn’t worry, he had a phone he could loan me but we would have to go to his apartment above his shop to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know what you’re thinking because I could see it in Nick’s face but I agreed and decided to trust my new friend (and hoped that if anything went wrong, Nick would help protect me). The 3 of us proceeded to an un-chartered territory of the city, right above the Checkers grocery store. Along the way he asked if I was a Christian and I said I was undecided at this point in my life (whole different story) and he was surprised to hear that. We talked about his Muslim faith for a little bit and he promised to give me some reading materials. We got to his apartment and chatted with his friend while the phones were being sorted out and he again expressed his surprise at an American that did not claim the Christian faith. He showed off his phone gadgets and I listened to some of the prayers that are beautifully changed. Before we left, I promised to come back in a few days to bring his phone back and actually get a new working phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called a few times to make sure I was fine and reassure me that whenever I could get to town it would be fine (and also to assure me that he was not trying to hit on me). I finally got to town but was unsuccessful in buying a new phone (but I did get a modem for work so at least I was going to be connected again) and he assured me he would help get me one for a decent price and that I could continue to borrow the other phone until I actually found a phone I wanted. His hospitality and generosity were amazing and renewed my faith in humanity. I made a promise that I would be back soon and that we would have dinner with him and his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why I trusted him immediately but I didn’t get a bad feeling about the situation – he said that he knew he could trust me because of my smile (Nick says that he’s a bit enamored with me and that probably has something to do with it). Maybe it’s the women’s instinct or maybe not but I do know that we can’t be too afraid to open ourselves up to new people and new experiences. That’s what I want my life to be about and it would be a shame if I never trusted the world and people every now and again.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-4416500556934375442?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/4416500556934375442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=4416500556934375442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4416500556934375442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/4416500556934375442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/05/trusting-humanity.html' title='trusting humanity'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6609404730962912500</id><published>2008-05-22T21:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T21:59:38.760+02:00</updated><title type='text'>rocks and rockers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Did I mention that my birthstone is the ruby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;500 raffle tickets are being sold for R200 each. I think I’ll buy 1 and ask for a couple for my birthday. This reminds me of a time back when I was working as a Resident Director for Western State. I went to a res life conference and they had all these furniture and other dorm necessity reps there. At one point I passed a guy that had a glider rocking chair on display. I sat down and was in immediate heaven. Just my luck, they were raffling off that chair later that evening. I was the first person to put my card in. AND I WON! To this day, that is the only piece of furniture I own, that and a butterfly shaped coffee table one of my friends made for me (thanks Erik – I still have it). I just knew deep down inside that rocker was destined to be favorite piece of furniture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I believe enough, the same will come true for me and this jewelry set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s really cool is that regardless of who gets to walk home with the jewelry, Phedišang will make R100,000 once all 500 tickets are sold. That’s almost 2 months of operations for us. We also have an 18 month wall calendar/family organizer for sale for R200. Beautiful pictures of the kids and some volunteers and good through Dec 2009. Let me know if you’re interested in either!! (exchange rate is roughly R7.5 to $1)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6609404730962912500?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6609404730962912500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6609404730962912500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6609404730962912500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6609404730962912500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/05/rocks-and-rockers.html' title='rocks and rockers'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-7235501164760295513</id><published>2008-05-22T21:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T21:40:28.612+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cows going home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today I got annoyed for no reason. I know that the people around me contributed to my annoyed-ness but they shouldn’t have, I should have let it go – I wish I could just not little things effect me. So I left work later than I wanted to (my own fault) and just didn’t feel like socializing. However being one of the few white people in this area, most of the time, people want to talk to me. The novelty may have worn off for me but it will never wear off for those in this area, there are just too many people! I even ducked out the view of this little kid who was staring at me in the taxi. Usually I love all kids but when they interact with me it’s a little bit more welcoming than just getting bug eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I made my way home, I slowly started to feel better. I was convincing myself to go for a run and as I made my way down my main street, I ran into some of the little kids I adore from the village. And each one let me swoop them up in my arms and we giggled together for a few moments. That’ll break any rotten mood wide open and only leave room for a big smile. I also knew that getting the physical activity would help my mood so I quickly changed and set out. It’s amazing how I dread exercising and will talk myself out of doing it many times yet when I’m out there doing it, it feels so good to be moving my body. I realize this every time I run for the first time after a hiatus of a few weeks, despite my good intentions of sticking with it this time. Here there are a lot of factors that keep me from running and I hope that when I move back to a city, maybe I’ll be better about keeping it up but I know that there will always be something getting in my way, so I guess I just need to stop making excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was running with a couple of the girls and we ended up behind these cows that were on their way home. We freaked them out and they started running as if we were coming after them with hot pokers or something. Lucky for them, we turned left and they turned right. I got such a kick out of this for some reason. It’s hard to explain why these little things bring me such joy but they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished the run, and even though Refiloe thought I was torturing her by running a bit longer than our usual route, I felt good. Another thing I can’t quite explain, just hanging out with these girls lightens my mood. We have nothing in common, they are 10+ years younger than me but I still call them my friends. They are who I seek out here in the village when I just need a break from thinking about work. I’m not sure they realize it but they are going to be what makes it hard to leave in September. How do I say goodbye to people that have had such a profound impact on my life? Hopefully it really won’t be goodbye, just see you later. For now I can’t worry about these things, I have to be here, enjoying the last few months that we have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-7235501164760295513?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/7235501164760295513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=7235501164760295513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7235501164760295513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7235501164760295513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/05/cows-going-home.html' title='cows going home'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2514368040949394281</id><published>2008-05-18T21:33:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T21:36:21.553+02:00</updated><title type='text'>fit for a princess (or punkin)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m exhausted but today was a good day. We had a big fundraiser for Phedišang and even though I maybe didn’t get up super early or have a ton of jobs, just being ‘on’ and worrying about everything can be taxing. Plus, I was on my feet all day. It was a Family Fun Day and we had a jumping castle, a big blow up slide, carnival style food, face painting and lots of singing and musical entertainment and an auction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the auction we had some beautiful paintings that were donated as well as weekend getaways, sports memorabilia and expensive wine. By far the most amazing item was the jewelry that a local jeweler commissioned for us. Sue donated thai rubies – they are a bit different than the rubies most people are used to, they have more of a purplish red hue instead of the blood red. The jeweler, Charles Greig, set the stones with some small diamonds and used rose gold and voila, we had ourselves a very GORGEOUS, very expensive necklace and earrings set. Sue and Leigh decided that the best way to show case the jewelry was if someone wore it. I immediately jumped at the chance to wear this exquisite jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201803868527075090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SDCFDt7PHxI/AAAAAAAAFp0/d8mDctQZJlo/s320/princess+jewelry.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any one want to take a guess how much they think this is worth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R10,000? Keep dreaming, no way. There are 14 rubies and little diamonds equal to 1 carat and gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R25,000? Not even close. Charles Greig is a very established jeweler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R40,000? That was just the reserve price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, this delicately beautiful jewelry is valued at R85,000. I was wearing R85,000 worth of jewelry. I felt like a princess. But my fairytale was short lived – the organizer of the day decided she didn’t want anyone to wear the jewelry so I had to take it off after only a couple hours. I went back to being a normal girl that can’t even pretend to afford something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or can I? The day went well, we had a fair amount of people show up and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The auction went well but I was nervous the whole time hoping that we had enough high rollers in the vicinity to get a fair price for the paintings and other things, especially the jewelry. Well, there wasn’t quite the response we were hoping for and the bids for the jewelry didn’t even get as high as the reserve so we took it out of the auction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A plan was made and we’ve decided that we’ll sell raffle tickets and in a couple months, we’ll hold a drinks or dinner party for the big pull. 1000 tickets for R100 each and you too can have a chance to own this amazing set. That, I think I will take my chances on. The odds may not be in my favor but I’m sure I’ll be able to spare a few hundred rand for a chance to own this amazing piece. I’ve already worn it, it fit perfectly and maybe, just maybe my fairytale could come true. Although I’m really not sure I would know what to do with that asset in my name. But I can dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to reality though… the important thing is that this is all benefiting Phedišang and the kids that are struggling to eat enough and get enough love in their lives. It was a good day, we made some good contacts and hopefully even more great things are coming for our kids and the communities they live in.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2514368040949394281?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2514368040949394281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2514368040949394281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2514368040949394281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2514368040949394281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/05/fit-for-princess-or-punkin.html' title='fit for a princess (or punkin)'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SDCFDt7PHxI/AAAAAAAAFp0/d8mDctQZJlo/s72-c/princess+jewelry.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-1443973907922726201</id><published>2008-05-12T23:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T21:27:32.340+02:00</updated><title type='text'>can't get much lower than that</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Packing for another trip to Johannesburg tonight. Tomorrow I’ll be back in the big city with our new volunteer, Nick, and one of the manager candidates and my neighbor, Susan. It should be a fun week but definitely busy getting ready for the big fundraising event on Sunday. This is Susan’s first trip to the big city too so I want to make sure she haves fun. She’s pretty nervous too so I want to make sure she isn’t on edge all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work stress…there’s been quite a bit that I’ve alluded to lately. Most of it has finally blown over so I feel ok sharing it now. After the Sekororo office had an unusually high financial request, I was asked to investigate a bit deeper. Well, this is the office that I’ve been working on the books with the bookkeeper for a few months now. Only in January did we finally get all the monthly cash books balanced – it hadn’t been done once since this office opened and that was back in 2006! But we fixed those problems and moved onto the next. Well once I started digging a little deeper into their financial reports, there were some funny things I noticed so I went to my supervisor. To make a really long story short, it turns out one of the staff members was stealing from us. After more information was obtained, sad to say, both staff members for that office were actually involved in the theft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked long hours for 2 weeks straight, putting all the information together and writing up reports. It was exhausting, stressful and emotionally draining. The one staff member, Motale, that I suspected was stealing was the one that I’ve had the hardest time working with. She’s the one that has driven me to my limits many times. What breaks my heart is that I had no idea Mamotupa was apart of it. The moment I found that out, in the meeting with Ledile (the supervisor), I just bowed my head and looked at my hands. I knew that if Motale was stealing, she was going to have to be fired but at that moment, I knew that Mamotupa would have to go as well. She would never have done it if it weren’t for Motale. Motale was the poison that seeped into so many days, spread her bad attitude around and held Mamotupa back. I was hurt that Mamotupa would agree to something like that, and sad that she didn’t have the strength to say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a bunch of back and forth between Leigh and the committee and I was the go between. The committee wanted leniency but Leigh, and frankly I felt the same way, wouldn’t have it. How can we honestly fundraise and assure our donors that we are taking care of their money if we keep the 2 people that consciously stole from us! They stole money that goes directly to feeding orphans. It doesn’t get any lower than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I’m concerned, good riddance Motale – I’m glad her nasty, infectious attitude is gone. I’m sad that Mamotupa is gone but she made her peace with us. When we told her, she was really torn up and it took every ounce of my energy to not cry with her. But she accepted the consequences and was glad that the money she stole was taken out of her stipend and going back to the orphans – she knew that was the right thing to do. Motale showed no remorse and then told people at the office that I fired her. Yes, that’s the kind of person she is. I didn’t even speak during the meeting – Ledile did all the talking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Acting-Manager, I had to play a big role in the whole process. Ledile was an amazing guide throughout the whole ordeal. She was able to keep her emotions out of it, always professional. I learned a lot from her, by just talking with her and watching how she wouldn’t let the set backs stop her from moving forward. At one point she told me that even if everyone is against you, you must keep moving forward and not waver in what you believe and know is right. Sooner or later, the people around you will come around – they will understand and see the bigger picture in the end. She’s a wise woman and I’m glad that I’ve been able to work with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is why I enjoyed every minute of my holiday and didn’t think twice about work. But those stories are coming, for now I’m off to bed in order to tackle yet another busy and long day tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-1443973907922726201?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/1443973907922726201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=1443973907922726201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1443973907922726201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/1443973907922726201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/05/cant-get-much-lower-than-that.html' title='can&apos;t get much lower than that'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-2631498777415851091</id><published>2008-04-22T21:11:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:22:05.289+02:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY EARTH DAY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Earth Day Tip: STOP using plastic grocery bags and use canvas ones! I know that both Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s offer them but you can also just use any old bag too. And if you hoard plastic grocery bags like mother does, simply reuse those. Leave some stashed in the car. Here in South Africa they actually charge you for plastic bags so many stores offer the canvas alternative. If you would like some bags from South Africa, I would be perfectly happy to send you some – usually they are less than R30, which is barely $4. Or if you ask nicely, I’ll just send you some!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Earth Day. I was not prepared but lucky for me Tanya was – she works with World Vision and they also operate some drop in centres. She was able to get funding to buy trees in celebration of Earth Day and so today the kids at one of her drop in centres planted them. I got to tag along and witness the event - it was fun to see and a welcome break from all the work stress. She did a great job and let the kids do all the work. I tend to get antsy and want to jump in and help but Tanya can easily stand back and just watch. That’s one thing I’m constantly trying to work on: not being so controlling – others will do the job just as well and I don’t need to worry myself. It was nice to see that in action today and because we let them plant their trees, maybe they will protect their trees a little more and take care of them. Let’s hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gave me some ideas for work too – maybe we can get donors to fund some trees for our centres as well. I think it will be something fun we can offer and hope that it’s something we can look into doing. My mind is rolling; maybe we can tie that into helping to develop the gardens at each centre as well. To see this centre that is thriving and this huge community garden at Kodumela, it’s encouraging and maybe something we can try to do on a smaller scale for our centres. We’ll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, I think it’s important for us, as human beings that inhabit the earth, to do something to change how we treat her. We really do need to be more conscious about how and what we are consuming. If you’re interested, below are some links for more information about how you can make every day Earth Day (I sort of sound like an advert – cue the music and the transition to your favorite TV show).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one has information about the history of Earth Day and who started it – interesting story: &lt;a href="http://earthday.wilderness.org/history/"&gt;http://earthday.wilderness.org/history/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has links to tips on how you can change your habits while you’re at home, working, at school and in your community. It also has tips about for while you shop – who doesn’t love shopping that is ALSO socially conscious and helps the environment?! &lt;a href="http://www.epa.gov/earthday/"&gt;http://www.epa.gov/earthday/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some ways other people are changing their lives, maybe you will get some good ideas: &lt;a href="http://wwfblogs.org/earthdayways/earthday08.html"&gt;http://wwfblogs.org/earthdayways/earthday08.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my female friends and relatives – I hate the waste that tampons contribute to and I also don’t like the chemicals that could be entering my body from the bleaches and other chemicals that are used to make them. My friend told me about this alternative option, I tried it out and am completely sold on it. I’ll let you read more on the website for all the details – and to spare the men from accidentally reading about this stuff which makes them squirm in their seats. &lt;a href="http://www.divacup.com/"&gt;http://www.divacup.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Earth Day!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-2631498777415851091?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/2631498777415851091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=2631498777415851091' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2631498777415851091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/2631498777415851091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-earth-day.html' title='HAPPY EARTH DAY!'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3911575130080772655</id><published>2008-04-21T20:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T19:04:02.474+02:00</updated><title type='text'>horsing around</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Finally, I bathed BEFORE the electricity went out. YEA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a really long time since Easter weekend but I was looking at Jason’s blog today and saw his pictures from the weekend and thought I would share a bit about it. Silly me forgot my camera in Johannesburg that weekend so I don’t have any pics but you can check out the link to his photos – he has an amazing camera and the quality of his pics are really good. Much better than mine would have turned out – so check out his blog, read up on his musings and take a look at his pictures. &lt;a href="http://puumaya.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://puumaya.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt; There is a really beautiful one titled Blowfish that is a must see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was fun overall but the highlight and scariest part of the weekend was the horseback riding. We decided to splurge and take a 2 hour ride. The last time I was on a horse was in high school at Estes Park during a choir trip. I remember enjoying myself so I thought it would be a blast. Oh it was something, that’s for sure. I don’t remember my horses name, all I know is he was the old man of the group and the guide put me on him because he was the most tame. We were all riding stallions and the first thing the guy tells us is that when we go buy the mares, we have to reign in our horses, keep them under control because they’ll get a little crazy. And speaking of Crazy, that was the horse Jason was chosen to ride. The guide took a look at us, me, then Jeff who is tall and thin and then Jason and chose him because he said that he looked like the strongest and could probably handle Crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first little bitty stream we go over, that isn’t even 40 feet from the stable, my horse trips going over and I yelped. The next time he did the same thing and I yelped louder. The guide decided then to tell me that my horse is lazy and doesn’t like to pick up his hooves. Great. As we make our way up the mountain, going over loose stones and rocks, all along my horse is tripping and all I can imagine is him actually falling and pinning my leg underneath his 1 ton body. Not a fun image and not something that eased the butterflies in my stomach. When we stopped for our tea break half way through the ride at the top of this mountain I was grateful for the rest but worried how my horse would do going down hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the trotting and cantering we did. Not even 10 minutes into the ride our guide tells us to go and the horses take off. And even if we didn’t want them to, they would have because they know the trails so well. I had NO control over my body and was bouncing up and down in the saddle and must have looked utterly ridiculous because the guide finally rode up to me laughing and telling me that I looked uncomfortable. That was an understatement. THEN he chose to give us some tips about how to control our bodies when we trot and canter. I think he does that to all the riders so he can get a good laugh. Every time we tried it I was apprehensive and felt like I was going to bounce right out of the saddle. There was one last little stretch before we got back to the backpackers and I decided to try it just one last time. After about 30 seconds I decided I’d had enough tried to pull the reigns to stop my old man but he knew we were close to home and just kept going. The guide had to finally come up and cut him off so he would stop. What’s really weird is the saddles aren’t like American saddles either, there isn’t really a horn to hold on to, it’s just a lip thing that you can slip your hand partway through. I was grasping that and holding on for dear life for most of the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we make it back to camp and as we come in we go by the field with all the mares. As if right on cue, our stallions start to get worked up, neighing and making lots of noises. Those mares were complete hookers, coming up to the fence and putting there stuff right out there, teasing our boys. Even my old man was getting all worked up, as if he was going to get any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it safe and sound back to the stable and I gladly handed the reigns over. Before the ride, I had visions of doing a pony trek through Lesotho – that’s at least 4 days on a horse going up bigger mountains than the one we went up. I had 2 hours of butterflies so I am not so sure I would be able to manage 4 days on a horse. Now that it’s been a few weeks, I’m sure I could be talked into trying it again but only if I’m promised a well behaved, non lazy horse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s my tale from the weekend. It was a beautiful place and I hope to get back there for more hiking at some point. For my next adventure I’m headed down to Jeffrey’s Bay down past the Wild Coast. That exploration starts Saturday and lasts for a week so I’m sure I’ll have some more fun stories to share soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams for me now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3911575130080772655?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3911575130080772655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3911575130080772655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3911575130080772655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3911575130080772655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/04/horsing-around.html' title='horsing around'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-5934526902809143556</id><published>2008-04-12T09:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T09:44:34.534+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a few new roommates</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Friday night Abigail and I watched a movie. Right before the movie started, the electricity went out. While I was sitting in my room waiting for her, I noticed a strange movement coming from my bookshelf area. I couldn’t figure out what it was and then while I was sitting on my bed, I heard it again. My headlamp illuminated all the places I was looking at, trying to figure out what the sound was when I saw a frog jumping around. I’m not particularly afraid of frogs but having one in my room, jumping around and making strange noises while the lights are out is not my ideal situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like earlier in the week, I had a similar encounter while the electricity was out. The electricity has gone out every other night this week because of the Eskom power cuts. So for 2 hours exactly, I enjoy the candlelit silence and read or watch a movie on my lap top till the battery dies. Anyway, after the electricity went out, I heard this fluttering sound above my head. It stopped and then started again so I got my headlamp to see what was and all I saw was a flurry of wings and these glowing eyes; this thing kept darting back and forth and I couldn’t figure out what it was but those eyes really creeped me out! Finally it settled down right on the wood beam and I got a good look, it was a huge moth. I was uneasy with it being in my room but there was no way I could kill it because it’s so much like a butterfly. So I settled down and only jumped a few more times until I got used to the occasional fluttering. It’s been in my room for a few days and we’ve become friends. He came to sit on my chair so I was able to get a good picture of my newest roommate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189003245933821634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SAMK9aw7_sI/AAAAAAAAFOM/Y8vTNeHuiWQ/s320/moth.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the week I pulled down some Tupperware and found a couple of baby lizards that had hatched in the tub. They were so cute and I’m not especially grossed out by lizards either so I had no problem with them staying. They eat little bugs anyway so I think they are good to keep around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a frog is where I draw the line. He could jump on me in the middle of the night and then I could end up with a huge wart on my face! No really, there is no way he was staying in my room; there is just not enough space in here for me, a gigantic moth, some lizards AND a frog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abigail finally came over to watch the movie and I told her about the frog debacle. I wasn’t going to kill it but she clearly liked the idea of a frog watching the movie with us even less than I did. Most black Africans I’ve encountered are afraid of frogs for some reason. We devised a plan to catch him involving two cups and a lot of giggling. He was quiet for a bit so we started to watch Transformers. We heard the noise and when my headlamp shone on him, only his little head was sticking out from under the bookcase. Not enough of him to catch. We left him alone for another few minutes and then he came bounding out of his hiding spot. Calmly, so I wouldn’t scare him into jumping on me, I covered him with the cup, found a piece of paper, slid it under and then found the farthest place from my room where I et him free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far no other things have decided to move in and I’m hoping that it stays that way. Winter’s coming so I hope that means that the bugs take a holiday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-5934526902809143556?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/5934526902809143556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=5934526902809143556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5934526902809143556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/5934526902809143556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/04/few-new-roommates.html' title='a few new roommates'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/SAMK9aw7_sI/AAAAAAAAFOM/Y8vTNeHuiWQ/s72-c/moth.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3111109354318427442</id><published>2008-04-11T09:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T09:39:55.095+02:00</updated><title type='text'>water, worries and a little concern for my health</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Work has weighed me down this week. Despite the stress of dealing with some serious issues with a certain staff member, I’ve managed to keep on trucking and not let her get me completely down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday was a fairly easy day – we had a staff meeting that was fairly upbeat and there was catering which I always enjoy. After the meeting I decided to make it a light afternoon and work on some posters that I promised the cooks a while back. Nick, our new PCV, stopped by and we watched a movie while I worked – not a bad work environment, really. After that I ended up helping Abigail, one of the grandkids that stays with my host family during school holidays, fill up the water jugs at the tap at the end of our street. She was doing it all by herself and I wasn’t doing anything important so I thought I could at least keep her company. She finished filling up the two she had and then I pushed the wheelbarrow back to the house. She didn’t think I could do it – so she kept asking if I was alright. When I came in to the house, the family was so surprised – I don’t normally help with this because Setlou does it – a cousin they pay to help out with household chores. We went back to fill up some more and I pushed the wheelbarrow again – she wanted me to stop half way and then she would take over but I wouldn’t let her. She does this kind of manual labor all the time and I was enjoying the exercise and feeling a bit useful to the family. Plus they all got a kick out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were out there filling up the jugs you just sit and wait and watch the people passing by. Usually there are tons of people gathered around the tap, waiting their turn but it was late in the day and we missed the crowd. But just sitting out there made me wish I had done this sooner – Abigail was so happy to have some company and we just chatted about life. And I wondered, when there was a crowd, what kind of things they all talked about and if this was how the gossip or local news was spread. I told Abigail that I would be leaving in September and she said that she wished it would never come, she’ll miss me too much. I told her sometimes I felt the same way. How can I leave my friends here, my family, and continue on to the next phase of my life? I don’t want my friendships to stop; I don’t want to cut these people or these moments out of my life. I’ve been having these thoughts a lot lately – on one hand I’m completely ready to move on, I miss Jason so much and I am tired of being in a long-distance relationship but these people are important to me too! I do really wish that I can continue working in this community and visiting my friends after I return to South Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning while I was working on my computer Abigail knocked on my door. I told her to come in and she asked if I was going to work today. I told her yes but that I was finishing up some stuff here before I left to meet people at 10. She just came back form walking someone to the road and saw Nick, the new PCV waiting for someone. She thought maybe he was waiting for me so she worried that maybe all the heavy lifting from the day before had strained me and that I didn’t sleep well, that maybe I was sick today. I had to laugh but her concern was sweet. All my recent exercising must be paying off because I’m not even sore!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-3111109354318427442?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/3111109354318427442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=3111109354318427442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3111109354318427442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/3111109354318427442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/04/water-worries-and-little-concern-for-my.html' title='water, worries and a little concern for my health'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-6390959888950497345</id><published>2008-04-07T22:24:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T14:39:54.212+02:00</updated><title type='text'>caring less and running more</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m trying to care less these days. I tend to get really worked up about things that just aren’t that important, and sometimes really don’t affect me at all. Last week I sort of had an a-ha moment: I was riding the bus back from Joburg and everything was going fine until the communication debacle started on this end. It doesn’t matter what it has to do with, whenever I return from Joburg there is always some kind of miscommunication about something. And I let it get to me, assuming in my mind that other people are getting just as worked up as I am – that the altercation is eating up their insides and ruining a perfectly good evening like I let it do to me. I didn’t let myself count to ten and I got upset with Letebele, the driver who came to pick me up – he kept calling someone else instead of me to try and locate exactly where I was! Anyway, I was rude and when we were finally on the road back to Turkey, I of course started feeling remorse. I was stewing and I knew I just needed to apologize and let it go if I was going to move past this silly moment in time. So I asked Letebele if I could talk to him – we had been sitting in silence for about 20 minutes so far. He said of course and I apologized and told him there was no excuse for the way I handled myself. Without batting an eye, he said it was no problem and that he had already forgotten about it. Really?! That easily? I envied him at that moment – I decided that my previous annoyances with this man weren’t worth it, I could actually learn from him. He could have cared less about this little white girl princess who has a hard time adjusting to the different communication styles and who let’s herself get all wrapped up in a tizzy. He was probably just thinking about his home, wife, baby and what was for dinner. So I decided that if this man could let go so easily, so could I. I really just think I have to care less about things and not assume other people’s feelings and not care if they are thinking bad thoughts about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there is no changing over night. I tried it the next day with Tanya but sort of failed at it – instead of coming off as cavalier and nonchalant, I snapped at her at one point and probably just proved once more that I have a bitch inside that likes to come out every now and again. Ok, let it go, there’s always tomorrow. Things worked out fine for the rest of the week and I was feeling good about being back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until today…today I can’t stop caring because the things that got me worked up are actually work related – the things that I want to stay passionate about. Working with Motale is a constant uphill battle and today was especially hard. Her record keeping is appalling and after I thought we had a good day last week, I realized that half the information she gave me was not accurate. This just complicates my work and now I have to go back and redo it. Our new volunteer, Nick, was sitting there with us and he observed that she has no respect for me and I have none for her. He’s very intuitive. My reasons are based on the fact that I’ve tried for over a year and she’s barely puts in enough effort to get the work done. And she does such a piss poor job when it comes to being a bookkeeper. It really just makes me want to pull my hair out. And on top of it all, in addition to her terrible bookkeeping, the facilitator that works with her is worried that there is another larger issue looming – one that could get her fired on the spot if it proves to be true. Half of me wants it to be true so we can get rid of her and find someone that will be dedicated and that pays a little more attention to detail. The other half of me remembers that we do have good days and she does have some redeeming qualities – like her good computer skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other frustrations about the work environment for that office and the lack of coordinator to discuss these important issues just fueled my fire and finally at noon I just had to call it quits with this office for the day. It helps to remove myself from the work for a bit to get some fresh perspective but it also delays the work that needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these things are piling up on my plate and right now, I’m finding it really hard to get all my work done while remembering that I’m just a volunteer – I don’t want to offer up 30 or 40 hour work weeks to this organization because the bottom line is I don’t have the capacity to do that as a volunteer. I am dedicated and truly believe this organization is doing good work but I’m only one person and I have to keep my sanity some how! Going back and forth between Johannesburg and village life is tough enough, what makes it even harder is the work that spills over from the main office and that I’m expected to do while I’m here in the village. I’ve drawn the line and made sure that I don’t work past 5 pm so I can keep my own time to do whatever I need but it still looms over me, weighing me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve started to run regularly again and that helps out, especially on days like today. Instead of concentrating on all the stuff I have to do and figuring out how I’m going to get it all done, I spend at least 45 minutes with my girls and 20 of those huffing and puffing and wondering why it is I always let myself get so out of shape. Why, when I’m finally back in shape, do I think it’s a good idea to skip a day of running or exercising – that’s when the damn cycle breaks and I’m back to square one. The exercise is good and helps but really these kids make me just as happy. The unsolicited hugs and companionship that is unaffiliated with work is what I need on days like today. No expectations except that I show up like I promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/R_y4hdOrVKI/AAAAAAAAFOE/P38XNeu5I64/s1600-h/girls+in+project+sing+shirts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187223755745350818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/R_y4hdOrVKI/AAAAAAAAFOE/P38XNeu5I64/s320/girls+in+project+sing+shirts.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is a picture I took last week of them – my mom sent me some left over t-shirts from a CCSA event and they LOVED the shirts and immediately put them on, despite that we had just finished running. The ones in the blue t-shirts are the girls that I hang out with regularly: Khomotso, Natacia, Mitsibisi, Desire and Refiloe. Thought my mom would appreciate seeing the girls in their shirts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I started this a little bit after the electricity went out. I was hoping that by the time I finished, it would be on and I could take a warm bucket bath. Unfortunately it hasn’t come back on so it’s a cold bath today. There is a storm a brewing outside – lot’s of thunder and lighting and I love it. I think I’ll hurry up and bathe so I can enjoy the show. Till next time…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-6390959888950497345?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/6390959888950497345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=6390959888950497345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6390959888950497345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/6390959888950497345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/04/caring-less-and-running-more.html' title='caring less and running more'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/R_y4hdOrVKI/AAAAAAAAFOE/P38XNeu5I64/s72-c/girls+in+project+sing+shirts.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-7735903952280520703</id><published>2008-03-27T18:02:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T18:04:21.273+02:00</updated><title type='text'>comfort in my friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A few weeks ago I was in Johannesburg with Charity, one of the women I work with in Limpopo. She is one of the candidates we are considering for the manager position so this was her time to see what happens in the main office and meet with some people on this side. The week was amazing, filled with orchestra and choir concerts, a talent show and a random trip to the airport. The mansion/city experience was completely new to her so it was fun to spend the week as roommates and observe how she took it all in. When asked what she wanted to see while she was in Joburg, she thought about it for a moment and then said the airport. A few strange looks were exchanged but eventually a plan was made and off we went. We walked all around, took some pictures and randomly ran into Tanya and her mother as she was catching her flight back to the states. I’m not sure she realized how much work is done when I go to Joburg but she got a taste of it. She worked hard, gave a speech to the Roedean girls, and by the end of the week, I could see that she understood a lot more about Phedišang and the operations at the main office. She definitely came out of her shell by the end of her stay and I felt a special bond with her. One of my favorite moments with her was jumping with her on the trampoline – it was her first time and she loved it. To hear her laugh so freely and uninhibited was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my friend Kristen came up for the weekend. Friday night, after Kristen finally made it to the house and we had a nice dinner, Leigh (aka Dad) dropped us off in Melville at the bars at 11 pm and we proceeded to stay out dancing till 5 am. Yes ladies and gentlemen, after the first bar and getting a few drinks in our system to loosen us up, we danced for almost 4 hours straight. I was in absolute heaven – I just don’t get to dance enough these days! And our goal of paying for as few drinks as possible was achieved – the men just couldn’t get enough of these two blondes. Little did they know that they weren’t going to get much out of the exchange but some quality bar conversation but we just didn’t bother ourselves worrying about their problems. We danced and drank and had ourselves a good time. The rest of the weekend was filled with shopping, movies, good eats, pool time and just catching up on everything. We hadn’t seen each other since October so we were overdue for some good quality time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the week/end filled with lots of people and activities, I was sort of sad about going back to the village. I was happy to go back and see my friends and do work but I wasn’t looking forward to going back to the lonely nights. As fortune would have it, I met a couple of Americans on the bus ride back to Tzaneen. Mina and Brenden were doing some work in the Tzaneen area and needed some help navigating through the city. They were going to couch surf and after I showed them the internet café, we parted ways with plans to see each other the next day. After I went and did a little grocery shopping, I arrived at the taxi rank just as the taxi filled up and was completely disappointed that I had to wait for the next taxi to fill. Then the rank guy comes up to me and says a black woman and white man were looking for me – I was completely confused when Mina and Brenden walked up. They decided to go out on a limb and see if they could come and get the village experience for the night – I was so excited because I had thought about inviting them to stay but felt a bit shy since I had just met them. They waited it out with me while the taxi too forever to fill. We ended up getting back to Turkey after it was completely dark so it was good we were all together. Even though my room is small, 3 people can actually fit quite comfortably and so it worked out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were open to whatever I had to do so they came with me to Turkey centre and then walked all over the place to visit people and go to the post office. They only stayed the night because they had a meeting in Tzaneen and then Mina had to get back to Johannesburg to fly back to the states. Brenden was actually staying a bit longer so he came back and spent a few more days in the village. We ended up having some really great discussions and it became evident that there were reasons why I met these two very special people. Both of them are fascinating and I am really glad that Brenden leaned over and started talking to me in the bus and they were bold enough to come and ask to stay with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what life is about – appreciating the people that come into my life and being thankful for the small gifts they give me: laughter, conversation, friendship, and ultimately making the loneliness go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-7735903952280520703?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/7735903952280520703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=7735903952280520703' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7735903952280520703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/7735903952280520703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/03/comfort-in-my-friends.html' title='comfort in my friends'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-9214455218536377358</id><published>2008-03-18T21:05:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T21:13:35.028+02:00</updated><title type='text'>scenarios celebration and just a bit more hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We held our Scenarios from Africa Celebration at the beginning o f this month and it was both a success and something we learned a lot for the next contest! We called it a celebration because we weren’t going to have a competition or a contest and ‘gathering’ didn’t quite fit it. It’s basically a discussion about HIV/AIDS through drama and so the word celebration doesn’t quite fit either but we didn’t know what else to call it. We had about 75 kids participate – not has many as I hoped but still a good turnout, all things considered. We figured out that we didn’t actually give the kids enough time to prepare, they wanted to approach family and friends for help with certain things but the month time frame didn’t allow for enough preparation. Lesson #1 – next time introduce the contest at least 3 months ahead of the deadline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we bring the kids from all the centres together, a lot of logistics are required but somehow the staff falls short of the adequate planning. We learned the hard way the last time around so we made sure to create the agenda the day before. It helped a lot but there were still missing aspects – like what to occupy the kids with while we are still waiting for the others to show up. Silly me forgot the educational DVD’s but luckily I live close to the centre and was able to retrieve them quickly. Lesson #2 – you can never be over prepared so planning even a few days a head of time is ideal if not essential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids performed dramas, poems and songs, all written by themselves. I think my favorite were the songs, one in particular that stressed the importance of using condoms. The kids were very encouraging of each other and after each performance they had a cute chant thanking the performer and they each got a rating – 3 claps was good and 6 was great. Susan and Charity and the other staff said the stories weren’t good – partly because we didn’t give them enough time and partly because we didn’t get to the centres to help guide them. Although I take the blame for not being able to get to all the centres during the previous month to show them the DVD’s, help go over their rough drafts and facilitate the discussions like I hoped, I realized that I can rely on staff in those situations. Lesson number #3 – delegate and have the staff help out even more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Previously I said a lot about what I hoped this project would achieve – peer education, change in their understanding of the disease and a crumpling of the stigma attached – so many idealistic things. I’m not sure these were achieved but it’s a step in the right direction. The kids really enjoyed it and I know that they could do even better with a little more guidance. So I haven’t lost hope – especially because some of the kids even said they want to continue working on their stories during the next year. Lesson #4 – the outcome may not be what I expected but it doesn’t mean the kids didn’t learn a lot throughout the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a side note - I invited my girls from the village to participate. I didn’t give them much time either but they were very excited and up for the challenge. I was able to give them a little feedback and their stories turned out great. Although they didn’t get to perform anything – they were just as excited and can’t wait to hear if their stories are chosen. While I love all of the kids at the different Phedišang centres, it is sometimes hard to tackle projects with them because I want them all to benefit equally and therefore need to spend enough time at each centre. It’s easier with my girls because there are only a handful of them – Natacia, Noami, Refiloe, Polosho, Komotso and Desire. We have formed a special bond that all started when I finally got off my butt and ran through the village. They are all smart and bright girls but I’m not sure they get enough positive attention when it comes to who they are and what they are capable of being. I like to believe that the little projects I do with them, like the art projects, making valentine’s day cards and this Scenarios thing, opens the doors of their creative minds and gets them to think abstractly about their world and the way they view it. More idealistic and hopefulness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall the Scenarios project went well. There is still some feedback I need to get but that will happen soon. We learned a lot about the process and we understand how to facilitate for the larger group next time around. I received confirmation that the stories made it to their destination and so now we keep our fingers crossed and hope that one of our kids is a special winner!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804565826658593763-9214455218536377358?l=hotarded.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/feeds/9214455218536377358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804565826658593763&amp;postID=9214455218536377358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/9214455218536377358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804565826658593763/posts/default/9214455218536377358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotarded.blogspot.com/2008/03/scenarios-celebration-and-just-bit-more.html' title='scenarios celebration and just a bit more hope'/><author><name>Christy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-o1v9ZeNAf4/RidXgPv_WeI/AAAAAAAABKs/Bc1Do8FNuzU/s320/DSCN2849.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804565826658593763.post-3788498689632825355</id><published>2008-03-15T11:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T11:23:54.739+02:00</updated><title type='text'>loneliness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The novelty of this experience is starting to wear off – I’ve thoroughly enjoyed bucket baths and pit toilets and feeling like a celebrity walking down the street but I will appreciate when I can go back to living in my comfort zone of running water, separate bathroom/kitchen/living/bed rooms and having a touch more anonymity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most glaring thing about living the rural life that I’m completely over is coming home to an empty room almost every day. Not just the emptiness but knowing that most of my nights are spent completely alone. I took refuge in it at first – after the constant attention from people all day long, I relished being able to come home and get lost in a book or a movie. I still enjoy this immensely but a few weeks ago I had a moment of utter loneliness. I stood in the centre of my little room on a Thursday night and none of the typical evening options for entertainment were even slightly enticing. Even though I hang out with other volunteers a fair amount, talk to Jason regularly now, and I saw Leigh and others earlier that week (and got a nice night out at a lodge), I was alone at that m
