Mom's visit

The deck of the house we rented.

My mother visited over the Easter Holiday. In terms of living abroad, one great pleasure is to host a visitor. You can show them a few of the places you've fallen in love with, and reconnect with what you really are in terms of family, nationality, and culture. I think we are getting better at enjoying ourselves here. Rather than set out on an ambitious agenda of site seeing, we picked a few nice things and settled in for a relaxing stay. I was also happy that mom got to have a look at the boy's school, and see how things work there a little bit. That's a huge part of this experience, and often overlooked when confronted with the vast assortment of tourist options.

Brenton on the Sea beach, near our rental house.

We stayed a few days in Cape Town; she saw the wineries at walked through the vineyards. We ate at some nice restaurants, and watched the boys play soccer. After that we headed for the Garden Route, a lush coastal area of South Africa, about 4 hours drive east, along the coast. We rented a nice house, and made modest little trips out in the day. Walking on the beach, visiting an elephant sanctuary, walking through the forest, and doing a zip line tour of the canopy. Perfectly unambitious for a 5 day stay.

The broken window.

Canopy tour.

I should write about the crime that occurred; sadly, it is part of South Africa. As the photos show,  we were in a very comfortable place. The house was in a wealthy area, and seemed isolated from the poverty that is so common here. I had been warned, and generally know better, but feeling comfortable, I tossed my wallet, sunglasses, and cell phone on a counter near a window before going to bed. Around 5:45 the next morning, while we laid in bed listening to the birds and the surf, we heard the window smash. I got up and started shouting, hoping to frighten off whomever might be in the house. There was glass everywhere, I was barefooted, pacing back and forth, trying to find some shoes to put on. It was a scary morning. Who ever broke in was a timid sort, and did run off after they had taken my things. I didn't even realize I had lost those things until later, when we prepared to leave for the day. We spent the morning on the phone, calling police, security, credit card companies, etc. etc.

Elephant feeding.

Generally, the police and private security people were good. Competent individuals that see plenty of this sort of thing. The term for what we experienced is "smash and grab", and it happens in that area (according to the person that replaces windows) about 3-4 times a week! Perpetrators are non-violent, and sometimes items are recovered along the train tracks that run between the upscale housing and the townships. Something I'll never forget is the footprints around our bedroom windows. They'd looked into all the windows before committing the crime. They were bare footed.

Zach on a sunset cruise of the bay.

Anyway, the crime lowered our spirits for a day or two, and made us a little paranoid in our beautiful beach home.  We made the best of it and had a lot of fun. Ours is a common story in South Africa, everyone here has a similar story, and many of them are worse. Sooner or later I'll have to tackle what I think the future might hold for this place, but today is not the day.

Grandma and the boys.