So yesterday on Thursday, we left the bush. We had one final safari in the morning, and even though Mom, a random guest, and I were the only ones attending, we were rewarded with our remaining Big 5 creature: the buffalo! (In case you were wondering, the Big 5 are lion, cheetah, buffalo, elephant, and rhino.) We told our awesome guide goodbye and headed out. After a four hour bus ride, we arrived in Johannesburg, the (other) mile-high city. The place where we’re lodging is in an area of the city called “Little Tuscany,” and it’s pretty high-end. We even have a pool, though I doubt Lauren and I will be entering its murky green waters.
Today I, out of a terrible habit, woke up around seven and had breakfast. Then when everyone else woke up, ate, and readied themselves, we grabbed a taxi and headed for the mall.
Everywhere you look here in Jo’burg, you can see some version of poverty staring back at you. It may be the shacks that occupy miles upon miles; it may be the beggar on the street corner, scuffing his dusty feet; or it may be a wide-eyed child who waves frantically to you from his seat in the dirt. Nearly every day, I have seen something that has broken my heart. And the most surprising thing about the poor is their proximity to the rich. In America, both rich and poor can inhabit the same cities, perhaps the same general area of town. But here, the two classes are nearly next door to each other. Such absolute destitution faces such ridiculous luxury. It is a great paradox. Some of those in our group elected to tour the shanty-towns, but we opted to get in some shopping. After we explored and got some pictures of the thirty-foot statue of Nelson Mandela, we headed back to our hotel in time for – you guessed it – another “wining and dining” experience. And now, with our bellies full, we are heading to bed.
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