Day 365 of 18.

Upon my final day of being 18, I would like to reminisce a wee bit for your reading pleasure!


Since we last spoke, here is what I have been up to in the South of Africa!




September 23rd-25th= EARTHDANCE!
This music festival could be equated to a South African 2011 version of Woodstock. An eco-friendly music festival adorned with hippies, meditators, yogists, free spirits, rastafarians, tree-huggers, and druggies. DJ's conducted a dubsteppy-trans music mix to which the gaggle of onlookers praised. Synchronized head-banging undulated to the trippy beat of the bass. It was an awesome experience. Recycled and reused art and decorations lined the walkway of the "market" area; the market boasted schwarmas, organic tea, hippie gear, pizza, ice cream, and even an ATM out of the back of a truck. Tents of the 9,000 attendees overwhelmed the hillside. Our humble abode sat at the top of the hill, with a view of the festival below and the mountains above. For 3 days, the beats beat into our tent--day or night.
Wanting to get into the hippie spirit, we headed to the "Heartspace" one morning and experimented with a yoga class. I must say that this yoga experience could have fit under the category of cult just as easily.
The yoga instructor would have us create poses with our bodies with seemingly mystical names: "Running Cobra, Frolicking Grasshopper, Awkward Lion...." I must admit that I made all of those up, but the point is that accompanying these strangely titled poses were chants in a foreign language (Elvish, perhaps?) that would mean "true identity" or "I am one with nature." As everyone else chanted, I would find some similar sounding phrase and say it with them, halfheartedly... "May the forest be with you!"  If this wasn't cringe enough, one lasting traumatizing pose awaited my brainwashed self.   Mr. Yoga had us lay on our bellies and stretch our upper body towards the "sun god" and had us perform "The Breath of Fire." We all faced towards the instructor, except for one man who decided that conforming was not his thing. So, he faced the group. The Breath of Fire is a breathing technique that could only be described as high-intensity panting. As he faced us with his head facing the sky and his eyes rolled back to expose only the whites, he panted in the most sexual way possible that left my friends and I chuckling and gobsmacked. At this point, we had reached our cult quota for the day and skedaddled.


September 27th: Happy Birthday Dada!
On this day, I went to my trusty old soup kitchen again! I love it there. The soup kitchen workers, all of whom were once soup kitchenees, have become my best friends! We chop vegetables, make soup, and organize loaves of bread to hand out with the soup to the 80-200 street people. Remember Malakkie who I spoke of in an earlier blog? His wedding day was also on this day! After volunteering at the soup kitchen, I headed over to the church and began setting up for his special service. 50 tea cups, saucers, and spoons later, the service was just about to begin. Malakkie's mother was there with Malakkie's 2 sons and his niece who has cerebral palsy. Father Ian had generously bought this 10-year-old girl a wheelchair. Without it, Malakkie's aging mother would have to carry the girl everywhere. I had the honor of placing her in the wheelchair for the first time. It was so sweet. There she sat in the back of the car with the biggest smile on her face. I picked her up and placed her in her brand new chair with wheels. I wheeled her into the church and brought her right next to Malakkie's mom. The beauty of appreciation was evident, despite our language barrier. The mother pointed to the wheelchair and then put her hands over her heart.
Malakkie's bride walked down the aisle in her beautiful dress and met him at the altar. After holding hands and exchanging I Do's, they kissed and walked hand in hand out of the church, followed by all the wonderful African women uluating after them.


September 29th: Drug Addict Support Group
On this day, I had the eye-opening experience of witnessing a drug addict support group in action. As I have witnessed, poverty in South Africa goes hand in hand with drug abuse. Unfortunately, this results in crack babies, domestic violence, and an ongoing cycle of more poverty.
This group of current and former addicts meets everyday at the soup kitchen to talk of their struggles, obstacles, and achievements. Most of the members spoke in Afrikaans, but the ones who spoke in English told an inspirational story. One man, a former drug addict, said how since he has stopped using drugs and allowed God into his life that he could now provide for his family and make a better life for himself. His pride and gratitude radiated as he spoke of his new life without drugs. For the onlookers on their way to recovery, his story proved the life-changing results of a drug-free lifestyle, which inspired both them and me.


October 2nd: Best Soup Kitchen Day!
Today consisted of my usual soup kitchening routine of preparing the soup and organizing the bread. After serving the mass of people on this unusually hot day, I offered to buy my soup kitchen buddies ice cream. Grace, Vernon, and Malakkie accompanied me to the little ice cream machine where I bought them all a bright pink bubble gum ice cream cone for only 4 rand. That equates to 50 cents! Such a trivial treat that many of us in America would take for granted, yet this same treat brought immense joy to their faces. Vernon exclaimed, "I can't remember the last time I had ice cream!"  Following that, Malakkie held up his cone as if to give a toast and said, "Cheers to our best friend from overseas!" We all "clicked" cones and laughed. After relishing in the simple happiness of a cone on a hot day, we hugged and parted ways. Magical day, I say!


October 9th: Whale Watching Day!
After watching the show Whale Wars and seeing the movie The Cove, I have been moved by the majesticality of whales and dolphins. Off the coast of a city called Hermanus, whalesswim up from Antarctica from October to December to have their children! The water runs deep, so the whales come very close to shore. I have only ever witnessed whales on TV; seeing them lift their barnacle-encrusted faces to the air leaves one awestruck by the incredible partnering of gentle and giant. They were beautiful and it convinces me even more now that I want to be a Sea Shepherd. (See Whale Wars!)


October 17th: Daycare ♥!
I walked to the nearby village to volunteer in the creche(daycare) that watches over about 50 kids, aged 1 to 6 years old. Greeted at the gate, I was, by hugs at knee level. "Tanny! Tanny!" being yelled at me from kids whom I had never met before. I would soon learn that "Tanny" means "Auntie" in Afrikaans...precious!
Despite their running noses, I knew that these kids were needing TLC since they were probably lacking it from their parents. We played on the playground until it was time for a story and naptime. I read them the 3 Little Pigs and then it was time for them to try and sleep. Most frustrating task. Ever. 20 of the 23 kids would sleep, but there would always be those few that would not catch onto the objective of naptime and find themselves yelling or tapping on the other kids' heads as they tried to "slaap."  Tetris skills came in handy as I attempted to rearrange the few bad apples in hopes of having them slaap, but to no avail. Naptime ended, along with my patience, but we then had playtime again! I was blessed with having the kids play with my hair while others sat on my lap. They would yell "tanny" whenever they wanted me to watch them hula-hoop or monkey across the bars. Once again, I was surrounded by Afrikaans-speaking toddlers, but was able to communicate through the combination of facial expressions and charades. Any child who tried to ask me a question in Afrikaans would tend to result in me answering with a smile and a nod. Pretending seems to work 84% of the time. As my ride came to pick me up, all of my little African babies with their backpacks hugged my legs as I walked out of the gate. :)


October 22nd: MY 19TH!
Although it hasn't happened yet, my birthday is the 22nd! I find it so surreal to believe that my year of 18 has left me!! I am having a small shindig here that will consist of costumes, tea, and desserts!!! It is an incorporation of my love for dressing up, eating dessert, bringing Halloween to SA(!), and hanging with friends that I have had the privilege to meet in my 2 months here!




I hope you enjoyed this blog update! Feel free to comment!!






I love you all and thank you muchly for reading my stories!!!!!!!! ♥




Stay Golden,


Cailie "Tanny" Kafura!

Avatar-esque Tent!

Market with cafes, shops, and recycling recepticals!

Tents and Recycling Bins!

Heartspace....with the traumatizing yoga! :)

My Soup Kitchen!

Malakkie and his sweet bride Funeca!

The precious girl with her wheelchair and beaming smile ♥

The Cliff Tops!

Panoramic of Hermanus whale watching!

Barnacle Face!

My Precious!

Gorgeous African kids at my creche (daycare)!

...and me!!

Nap time! Note: The Afrikaans charts on the wall!

Step Two: Safari, Drama, Soup, Dogs, and Beautiful People.

South Africa.

A land of poverty, prejudice, beauty, and hope.

My first week in South Africa began with a Safari in the Kalahari...or as it is truly written: Kgalagadi!
For a whole week, we experienced the Kalahari Desert through game drives and camping "in the bush."
Rising with the sun, our game drives would begin at 6am...Seeing everything from Gemsbok, Wildebeast, Springbok, and Meerkat families, we were still determined to find lion; we drove for hours and patiently awaited the lions' arrival at many a watering hole. However, the time came when we saw the fateful lionness standing in a field of gold in all her glory...a true Nala! With four paws in the air, lay next to her a mane-less Simba! What a wonderful day in the Kalaharihood!
That night, while eating food from the braai(Afrikaans for barbecue!), we heard a deep roar coming from just beyond the gates of the camp. I ran to the watering hole with cheetah speed to discover a male lion with a black mane sleeping just outside the camp! I awaited the next roar...a mere 20 minutes later, a deep, echoing sound erupted from the slumbering beast and soon the nearby jackals joined in song and the whole desert came alive! (Ahhhhh-sibinyaaaaa!.....hopefully you caught that Lion King reference:)


The following week began my volunteering expeditions!
Monday: Went to a soup kitchen and met "Father Ian" who helps run the place. I then had the privilege of meeting a fellow named "Malarky," who walked 1,000km to Cape Town and found the soup kitchen. He was once receiving the soup, but he decided to make a better life for himself, so he now distributes the soup as a job! He supports a wife and kids at home through his decision of turning his life around...YAY Malarky!


Tuesday: I accompanied Ian to another soup kitchen today just as an introduction to where I would volunteer that Thursday. Upon stepping out of the car, I was greeted by beautiful, soulful singing. It echoed from within the soup kitchen, where Ian brought me in to witness the incredible phenomena. Sheer joy filled the room and my heart......to see a room full of hungry people find happiness in the darkness of their lives powers enough inspiration and hope to make one believe in hope again.
Ian then introduced me to this group of about 50 people and said, "Cailie here is from America! (Some oohing pursued:) She has come to see the real Africa, not the touristy Cape Town parts...she has come to meet YOU guys!" Applause and cheers re-established how kind and welcoming the South African people are. I was then able to help take deliveries of sandwiches and juice to the nearby shacks that contained families who needed the food. A 93-year-old woman climbed in our car to get a ride to her place. She was the most precious epitome of a hip grandma: Grandmother Willow-esque wrinkles, a little floral dress, and of all things--black and white converse shoes. I loved her already. We drove to the various shacks and walked in to deliver the sandwiches and juice to the families that needed them. Every person was incredibly grateful, which made the task even more rewarding.


Wednesday: On this day, I was offered the opportunity to teach a Drama class at a place called Imibala. Imibala is a program that makes the lives of the underprivileged more positive through donations, art, and drama. Seeing as Dramatics was my high school sport, I thought that teaching it would be not only a blast, but a fun experience! The 9 kids arrived, all of them speaking in clicks! Thankfully, a few of them knew English, so we were able to communicate through English and Drama! I taught them how to play some American drama games. For those of you who speak drama, I taught them: Streets and Alleys, Handshake Murder, Statues, Pantomimes, and Improv! They eventually got bored and whipped out their cell phones and started singing and dancing. I cannot even tell you how amazing their skills were...they had such natural rhythm and one girl sounded like Beyonce! She was only 11! They were all so fun to be with and it was intriguing to listen to their mother tongue...As the bus was boarding them, they gave me high-fives and thanked me as I promised I'd be back next week. Beautimous!


Thursday: Back to the soup kitchen where I was greeted by various hellos and happy faces! I proceeded to the kitchen where I saw a group of women mass-producing sandwiches with a questionable spread...However, I am sure these people were simply grateful for whatever they received. Adorning myself in apron and hair net, I went to work creating sandwiches and putting 3 in a bag to be given to the masses just outside. Hundreds of sandwiches later, we went into the hall and distributed them. Although one would expect a feeding frenzy, a calm and organized fashion took over and everyone took the sandwiches and passed them around until everyone had gotten what they needed. We then handed out loaves of bread that we put into peoples' bags as they left. The "lunch ladies" and I headed to the room called the "bakery" because it had a massive mixing bowl with a whisk the size of a mini-fridge and a heavy-duty oven. On this day, I learned how to make 300 cookies... 8kg of flour, a whole bag of sugar and probably 3 pounds of butter. Insta-betes, anyone? What an interesting day!


Friday: The arrival at the animal shelter was indeed one to remember. A mountainous landfill towered in the background as the stench hit me like a wall. Walking into the reception area, the smell didn't dissipate. As the receptionist came to the desk, my jaw dropped. A 5'oclock shadow, red "Kool-Aid" hair, and a handful of rings greeted my gobsmacked self. He said, "Hi, I'm Nicky!" And I was quite amused by the sight of this place: An animal shelter that sat in the valley of Rubbish Mountain, run by a transvestite. Awesome! I couldn't miss out on this experience! I signed some liability forms and carried on my way to the dog kennels, where I found the non-rabiest looking creature and strapped on a collar and leash. Surprisingly, I found a patch of grass and walked Daisy, Tina, Tessa, Jackson, Hardy, and Tinga. The stress involved with the simple action of walking down the kennel corridor and finding a dog to walk was quite the emotional encounter. Pitiful and aggressive dogs aplenty, I would try to find the most deserving of a walk. When all the barking ceased, an ironic sound august rushed its way throughout the cages. It was none other than Beethoven himself. Ironic that the dogs had no food, but soothing classicals to quench their barks? I concur.
I was soon joined by a precious boy named "Marlin" who was 13 and lived next door. He comes everyday to the shelter to help out and simply get away from his life that is.


Saturday: Done-zo with the volunteering for the week, I had only a YMCA formal dance to attend. My friend arranged a date for me to accompany me to the YMCA, so not only was I in a foreign country going to a foreign dance, but I was on a blind date as well! Superb!! After scoring a dress at a thrifty costumey shop, I was picked up by my friend's date. We all went to the Y, where I soon met Grant, my date! All was not awkward, thank the lord...we feasted upon a 3-course meal and there were some random speeches, followed by a cool guy who freestyle-rapped for us! I then hit the dance floor with my American moves, and there was no grinding! Thank you, Baby Jesus! :)


This week holds soup kitchens, drama, teaching english, animal shelter, a daycare center, and children's counselling classes (to prepare them for the death of their parents due to AIDS:(






May the forest be with you!
(And also with you...)


XOX
Cailie "The American" Kafura!

Simba and Nala in the Kgalagadi! ♥

Meerkat Family! ♥

My "siblings" and the braai!

YMCA jig! (I am the tall, bouncy one:)

My "sister" and I! YMCAing it up!

Ester and I with my cookies! Woot!

Step One: Live in jungle, shower with tarantula, ride tapir, save the rainforest.

Hello World...hope you are listening...


“I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again” (Stephen Grellet). 


July 12th found me 18 and alone in the airport. Boarding ticket in hand, I embarked on the trip of my life.  


 My itinerary read: Peru, South Africa, Cambodia, Thailand, Mongolia, and England. My lifelong yearning to make a difference in this world shaped itself into a surreal reality that would take place over the course of an entire year.  Arriving in Peru at the Taricaya Ecological Reserve on the 13th of July marked the start of an incredible journey. Here, I volunteered on a conservation program that involved many aspects of saving the rainforest and the animals within it.
Taricaya  rescues and rehabilitates wildlife and releases them when the time comes. Spider monkeys, Jaguars, Macaws, Toucans, Howler Monkeys, Capuchins, Tapir, Parrots, Marguays, Jaguarundis, and Wild Dog all resided within Taricaya. There were 40 other volunteers when I arrived; each of us was given an activity each day that would contribute to the conservation efforts. The activities ranged from birdwatching to animal feeding to trail clearing(with machetes!) to butterfly catching(imagine prancing through the rainforest with nets like spongebob and that is what this activity was like:) There of course was the infamous tapir poo pool, which was so dreaded that even the staff would not do it... Turtle Beach was an exciting adventure that involved taking the boat to a nearby island and camping overnight. At 2am, we would awaken to search the island for turtle nests in order to save the eggs from the locals, who sell these eggs in the market. This activity was incredibly entertaining(to me) and rewarding because it was tangible conservation work.


Being a part of the conservation efforts at Taricaya were amazing...however, having the privilege of meeting people from all over the world made for a jolly good time in the jungle! Canads, Brits, Great Danes, French, Germans, Switzerlandians, Hollandites, and the token American every now and then filled the bungalows to create an Amazonian melting pot! I learned a great deal of American stereotypes and also had many of my stereotypes mythbusted. The extraordinary mixing of cultures in this remote location and sharing a similar passion for the environment and animals created a strong bond between my international homies and I!


 After 6 weeks of calling the Amazon Jungle my home, I had to depart for step two of my worldly expedition: South Africa! However, the night before I departed, I organized a goodbye paint party...where we would literally just throw paint at each other until our heart's content. Twas the best goodbye ever. ♥ (see pic!)

Chicken and rice wrapped in a banana leaf!

"Mossin" in the hammocks at Taricaya!

Turtle Beach!

El Gringos! (That is a real tree, btdubbs:)

Animal Feeding!

Paint Party! 

(Me=back row, with the yellow eye! ;)