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Genetically modified food, although having some negative consequences, is a very practical and easy method to solving the hunger problems in Africa. Genetically modified food is food that has been genetically engineered to grow faster, larger, and more abundant. However, the food being produced by this method causes some undesirable outcomes. For example, the food causes organ failure and in some cases can cause death in some wild animals. South Africa, along with other places in Africa, is pushing to ban genetically modified food. Despite all of the negatives, genetically modified should not be banned in South Africa, or in other African countries because the positive effects outweigh the negatives. Genetically modified food makes sense in almost every way; the number of deaths from starvation is lowered drastically. More Africans die from starvation than from AIDS. The amount of hungry African adults and children account for more than a quarter of the hungry population of the world. This is only one of the many reasons genetically modified products should be allowed. Genetically modified food is the obvious way to solve many of the hunger problems in Africa. Genetically modified food grows faster, larger, and more abundant. This method makes it easier to produce more food in a shorter period of time. This is the main reason that genetically modified food should not be banned in South Africa. Genetically modified food could be the answer to keep the Africans from starving, because it grows faster and larger. This is

Genetically modified food is diagnosing many with cancer and tumors every day. Genetically modified foods are foods that have had foreign genes from other plants or animals inserted into their genetic codes. The issue is in Africa, mainly South Africa, is killing many and affecting many farmers’ lives and crops. This issue has been going on for the past 5 years in Africa. Hopefully the African Union will ban genetically modified foods like they have already done for Kenya, in South Africa. Genetically modified food in Africa should not be produced.

Genetically Modified foods in Africa threaten small-scale farmers. When a farmer imports GM seeds and plants them, there is the possibility of neighboring fields being contaminated, which affects the farmer’s crops and income. Another way that affects small-scale farmers is that Europeans care about the taste of the foods that they eat in Africa, and GM foods and products do not taste as pleasant as the natural crops and foods. Due to the poor taste, Europeans do not eat the farmers’ GM foods and products, which lowers the farmers’ income.

Genetically Modified maize causes organ damage. Studies at a University in France have shown that GM maize has caused organ damage, tumors, and earlier deaths. For example, in South Africa, many have been diagnosed with cancer and liver problems. South Africans are now pushing for a ban on GM maize in South Africa for safety of the animals and the citizens. GM maize also kills rats at a premature age with cancer and tumors. This will hopefully be banned by the African

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For years, many activist groups have been trying to put a stop to the diamond mining industry in Africa. Activist groups such as the well known AIU (Amnesty International USA) are trying to put a halt to the mining and production of African diamonds. Groups like the AIU are using propaganda to persuade their large American audience of the importance of banning these diamonds. For example, in 2006, several groups helped fund a political war film directed by Edward Zwick which reached out to the emotional side of their audience and addressed the so called “conflict of diamonds” in Africa. Films like this portray an inaccurate description of those who truly benefit from the Africa Diamond Industry. Movements like these have played a significant role in the political conflict over diamond mining that exists in the world today. Diamonds should, therefore, continue to be mined throughout Africa for its many benefits to infrastructure, employment, and significant value to nations like our own. Although many people view Africa as a poor continent, Africa can be statistically ranked as one of the wealthier continents, with $1.671 trillion of potential wealth. Africa’s primary reason for gaining such high-ranking wealth is due to its natural resources, the main resource being diamonds. For example, Luanda, the capital of Angola, can claim the position as the wealthiest city in the continent of Africa. Many of Angola’s major monuments can be almost one hundred percent credited to diamonds and petroleum. So, to prevent poor living conditions for many of Africa’s

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Blood diamonds have been a great source of conflict in most countries in Africa. They fund wars, terrorism, and tyranny. They have caused 50,000 civil wars, killed over a million people, and many people have suffered body mutilation as a result of blood diamonds. The mining of blood diamonds should not be allowed in Africa.

Blood diamonds have funded militant groups, terrorist groups, and tyrants. In many conflict areas where there is civil war, the rebel group is being funded by blood diamonds. Many of the wars and conflict in Central Africa and Western Africa are funded by them. Blood diamonds have caused civil wars in countries like Sierra Leone, Angola, and Liberia. Blood diamonds have given terrorist groups like the Al Qaeda millions of dollars, and this money helps keep these organizations alive.

Many of the organizations mining these diamonds have mistreated their workers severely. The Marange diamond fields in Zimbabwe are run by military syndicates. If the workers fail to correctly do their job, they are beaten or killed. In the past, men, women, and children have been mutilated for not doing their job right. In countries like Sierra Leone, people have been used as slaves to extract diamonds. Many times workers must use their hands to search for the diamonds instead of using the correct equipment.

Often, innocent civilians are caught up in the conflict caused by these blood diamonds. Charles Taylor, a Liberian president, was sentenced to 50 years in

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proven not only by results, but also by the processes used. Causing change in certain DNA usually through hormones, chemicals, and radiation creates genetically modified food. This may sound like a difficult process, but its simple and effective. That is another great reason to why genetically modified food should be produced. Genetically modified food, with all the positive effects, ought to be used in all places around the world. First off, it lowers the deaths from starvation drastically. Secondly, It creates an abundance of food making it easier to feed the hungry. Finally, the food grows faster and larger. With those three facts, this method speaks for it self. This method, with a little more research, could truly be the solution of hunger not only in Africa, but Worldwide.

Genetically modified maize after being modified. Maize is just another word for corn.

Union soon. Genetically Modified foods spread new and damaging pests. Genetically modified foods and crops affect the farming in Africa because new and damaging pests spread into neighboring fields and damage them. This relates back to the idea of genetically modified foods affecting small-scale farmers because the pests kill the crops in their fields, which lowers their incomes and other farmers around them. This also affects the income at the grocery stores because there are not as many products to sell. Food that has been genetically modified should not be produced in Africa. This is because of the effects on small-scale farmers and the taste of the food when the Europeans come. This unfortunately lowers the small-scale farmers’ income. Also, genetically modified maize causes organ damage, cancer, and tumors. This is mainly happening in South Africa, so they are pushing for a ban on genetically modified maize. This maize has also caused premature deaths of children and animals, especially rats. New pests have been formed from genetically modified food, which have damaged the crops and neighboring crops of small-scale farmers; this affects their income. Overall, genetically modified food is deteriorating rapidly in Africa, so it must be stopped as soon as possible.

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citizens, as well as tourists, diamonds should remain a key mined natural resource in cities and countries all over Africa. A key developed theme in American culture, is the element of hard work. The traditional “American family man” thrived off of hard work, the ability to make a living for himself, and support his family. The p e o p l e i n A f r i c a w a n t t h e s a m e opportunities. In the diamond mining industry alone there are 10 million people employed. Taking away the diamond trade would not only crush that passion of desired work that so many of them desperately want, but it would also endanger the lives of more African citizens. Therefore, sustaining the mining business would help not only the employment rate in Africa, but also would lead to prosperity in Africa.

African men performing the dangerous mining to find the precious “blood diamond.”

prison for arming rebel groups and harming civilians in Sierra Leone, in return for diamonds. In many places civilians become victims of the wars and conflict created by blood diamonds.

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Poaching has lead to 62% of the African forest elephant population to be killed for their tusks, which are made of ivory. Ivory is illegally obtained by poaching, then brought to a market somewhere in Asia. Ivory is sold in the black market, though. Ivory can cost up to hundreds of dollars for one kilogram, or 2.2 pounds. The African forest elephant is now an endangered species. These countries should control the poaching of the African forest elephant with patrols. One of the main reasons for these countries needing to patrol the parks is the fact that African forest elephants could go instinct from poaching. They already are an endangered species. In Gabon alone, poaching has caused about 11,000 deaths of forest elephants since 2004. Reportedly, in 2011, in Gabon, there were from 50 to 100 elephants killed a day. Another reason that these countries need to patrol the elephants, and protecting them from poachers, is that the poachers are helping finance the rebel groups in some countries with the profits from the ivory. The rebel groups gain power when they grow in wealth, thus making it harder to put down rebellions. A band of about 300 Sudanese horse-back riders recently went on a “poaching-spree” in Cameroon. They killed around 40 elephants and it is suspected that their profits will go to the Sudanese rebel group. The two parks that they traveled through, and poached in, were Nke and Lobeke.

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After being mined and exported across the world, the diamond can be used for many things. When sold, the diamond is predominantly used for the creation of jewelry. Last year, in the United States alone, more than $72 billion were spent on diamond jewelry. The United States also tops the world stage with the world’s largest diamond market, wit Japan and Italy close behind. Besides jewelry, diamonds also are used for creating other commonly used items, such as knives, blades, or if heated properly you can create graphite. As noted above, diamonds not only play a major role in American culture and marketing, but also all across the world. Keeping the diamond mining industry active in Africa would, in the long run, benefit not only the African nation, but many nations across the world. The economic benefits of diamond mining in Africa would result in the creation of new infrastructure and wealth for towns, sustain the employment, and allow Africa to benefit from diamonds; very much like the United States is doing now.

Africa should try to stop the conflict caused by blood diamonds. Blood diamonds have created war, caused innocent civilians to die, and the workers digging for the diamonds to be beat or killed. The organizations that are causing conflict need to be stopped and diamonds need to be mined without causing conflict.

An African man using the special technique to find diamonds.

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One last reason that the countries should patrol is that once that specific area’s elephant population is extinct, the poachers will move to other places in search of ivory. An example of this incident is some poachers from Cameroon have already moved to Gabon, and started poaching there. Even though, Cameroon still has elephants, poachers are moving all over to kill for ivory. The poachers will keep moving from place to place until there are no more elephants. Central African countries should try more to rid of poachers. The poaching could cause extinction of this species, aid in rebellions and wars, and cause poachers to find new areas. The governments need to work harder to stop the poachers from killing the elephants and save the elephants from extinction.

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In The Company Of Cheerful Ladies, by Alexander McCall Smith

In Gaborone, Botswana Mma Ramotswe is the detective in town, but, lately, she has had many problems and mysteries turn up. Alexander Smith’s use of humor and intensity develops fear, anxiety, and excitement in different points in the novel. M m a R a m o t s w e d e a l s w i t h dangerous obstacles in her everyday life, not only with her job, but also in her personal life. An intruder in her house and her abusive ex-husband returning are two major problems that intrigue and worry her. Finding a belonging has been stolen upsets Mma Ramotswe, but ends up benefitting her. Mma Ramotswe has many different adventures and situations. The reader will be packing their bags to head off to Botswana when they finish this book! Read the whole series, called The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency!

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The Spoils of Egypt: By Michael Pierce

Mrs. Skinner, niece of the possible next president of the U.S.A, arrives in Cairo in 1908 on a mission to stop the exportation of antiquities. She is met by a member of the Mamur Zapt police, Owen, and the porter, Paul Trevelyn. Trouble finds Miss Skinner wherever she goes and the first day she arrives in Cairo she is pushed in front of a TRAM. Luckily, she is not harmed, but now Owen has to figure out who did it and why. Visiting many different places in Egypt, meeting many different people, and dealing with the additude of Miss Skinner, Owen’s journey to discover the truth is a long,intense, and sometimes funny adventure. When Owen finally is close to the truth, he finds something he never would have guessed. With the help of people he meets on the way, and clues he gathers himself, he finally comes to the source of all the attacks, danger, and the problem Miss Skinner came for, the source of the artifacts being exported out of Egypt. This mystery ends with a boom and leaves the reader wanting to visit the mysterious and ancient Egypt.

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Nvtu!SfbetNo Longer at Ease: Chinua Achebe

In the novel No Longer at Ease, by Chinua Achebe, the reader is brought on the eventful journey of our young protagonist, Obi Okonkwo. He is the grandson of the famous Okonkwo, from the previous book in the series, called Things Fall Apart. The story takes place in the town of Lagos, in the southern part of Nigeria; this is where Obi Okonkwo is faced with many choices: family or girlfriend, job or family, and traditional culture or modern day culture. He is forced to choose between what his ancestors were taught and what he was told. These choices revolve around his receiving a scholarship to study in England. The scholarship is given to the best student in a certain grade. Once finished with school in England, the student who receives the scholarship is forced to repay the 800 pounds. The 800 pounds is the money that was taxed from the Umuofian people for the initial scholarship. Yet, the scholarship choices are not always to the rightful people because the civil service workers usually receive bribes to sway the vote. This is a major problem because sometimes the scholarship is awarded to the wrong person. Was Obi the right choice for the scholarship? Will he be able to repay the scholarship? Will he succeed? Or will he fail? Find out by reading, No Longer at Ease by Chinua Achebe.

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A Dead Man in Tangier: Michael Pearce Tangier, Morocco, a hot, humid, and Muslim city known for its famous sport pig sticking, has entered into a state of complete chaos and mystery. This chaos was brought about after Monsieur Bossu, a French businessman, was murdered during a pig sticking event, which has now led to a mystifying but interesting incident and investigation. Monsieur Seymour, a police officer from the Scotland Yard, has arrived in Tangier to investigate Monsieur Bossu’s murder. While Seymour is in Tangier, France declares Morocco a French protectorate. Because of this decision, riots have been taking place in the city between the French, especially the women and the Moroccans. Seymour speaks to many witnesses but cannot seem to find out how the murderer killed Bossu. Seymour takes many steps to resolve this conflict in Morocco, but will he? Towards the end, Seymour edges closer and closer to solving the case—will it be suicide, De Grassac, Renaud, Mr. Bahnini, or someone else? You will find out for yourself after you read this mysterious thriller that will keep you reading until you finish and discover who killed Monsieur Bossu?

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Nvtu!SfbetWhatever You Do, Don’t Run by Peter Allison: Hilarity of the Okavango

Enter the slow moving, arid area of the “bush” in the Okavango Delta along with your extensively trained guide, Peter Allison. Enjoy the humorous and sometimes treacherous narratives of Allison’s experiences in this untamed region. This novel will have your survival skills at their peak and have you waiting on your encounters with anyone of the brutal beasts that roam the wide-spread plains of Botswana. Allison will show you his ability to show-off these creatures to his guests and his feelings that he gains towards the animals, but also will additionally have the reader aware of the dangers that the menacing country has to offer By the end of his documentary, full of disarray and passion, it will have you virtually petting the king of the jungle that sits next to you on your living room couch.

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Victoria Falls- Victoria Falls is one of the largest and most well-known waterfalls in the world. It is very beautiful. Also it is a large tourist attraction to all visitors. It is located on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe.

Ngorongoro Crater-Ngorongoro Crater is well-known for its great views and i t s a m a z i n g w i l d l i f e . Ngorongoro Crater is located in Tanzania.

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Mt. Kilimanjaro-Mt. Kilimanjaro is a great tourist attraction because of its great view from the peak. Also, the peak is easily reachable by anybody. It is located in Tanzania

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Kruger National Park- Kruger National Park is a wildlife park. It has many types of animals and is a very la rge tour is t attraction. It is very beautiful and has many activities do do and animals top see. It is located just outside Phalaborwa, South Africa.

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Table Moutain- Table Moutain is a well-known mountain in Cape Town, South Africa. It is a beautiful view and also you are able to ride to the top on the gondola and look down on Cape Town.

Fish River Canyon-Fish River Canyon is a very large and well-known canyon in Namibia. It is not only very beautiful but also a great fishing spot in Fish River.

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Food and Drink:Most local Africans only have one meal a day. This meal is usually the dinner meal. In the morning Africans often start out their day with a cup of tea or coffee. A visiter to Africa should NOT be surprised by a potential family ritual that is performed at the traditional evening meal. A visiter should also be cautious in what they eat or drink because Africans hold strong taboos against certain foods that are thought of as being “unholy.” For example, some fish or different parts of animals can be extremely “unsacred” yet these items will still be on the table. Similar to American manners, you should always place your napkin in your lap and always chew with your mouth closed. Although a middle-classed

man in Africa would have the money to buy utensils, they will usually choose not to because of traditions that exist in their cultures. You might also be shocked in how generous the host will be to you.

Greeting :Greeting is an important value in Africa because if greeted the wrong way locals will not only be offended but will also set you a bad reputation with the whole tribe or clan. To greet someone properly does not take a lot of effort. All you have to do is to be attentive and greet strangers with a strong handshake and a greeting word of “hey” or “hello.” Although not required, introducing yourself to the person your greeting would be a simple thing to do to gain extra respect.

Dudu-osun soap, straight from africa.

Alexandre Provosty and Will Bryan

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NPWJFT; The Ghost And The Darkness1996Based on the true story of two lions that, over nine months, killed over a hundred people in Africa. Two men, an old hunter and an engineer, try to stake out and kill the lions.

Blood Diamond 2006Three men, a businessman, a fisherman, and a smuggler, are in a race to capture a “priceless” diamond.

Hotel Rwanda 2004

Based on a true story about a manager of a hotel who takes in refugees from trouble with the Hutu military group.

Invictus 2009Nelson Mandela, during his first term as South African President, decides to reunite the country by taking on a national rugby team and trying to win the national rugby championship.

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I arrived in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, on the smallest jet I have ever been on. The jet landed onto a rough runway that was just big enough for us to not crash. That night I went to my hotel and got ready to meet my two pen pals Amare and Gabra for lunch the next day. I woke up at 10am and went to the restaurant Tomaco. While I was driving to Tomaco I got a call from Amare. I answered the phone and heard, “Hello Alexandre, it is Amare. We will meet at Tomaco in 15 minutes.”

“Ok, I am going there right now, looking forward to finally meeting you and Gabra” I told him. To my surprise he spoke English very well. I arrived at Tomaco at 10:45 and found a table for three. I sat down and waited for over an hour for Amare and Gabra to arrive. “Fifteen minutes, yeah right” I thought, aggravated.

While I was waiting I saw that many men were walking and holding hands together. When the people at restaurants were meeting each other I noticed they would either kiss each other on the cheek or touch

shoulders. Finally after an hour I heard, “Hello Alexandre” I turned to see Amare and Gabra walking over towards me. Amare had a shiny bald head, was short, and thin. Gabra was taller than Amare and had short braided hair. I stood up to greet them and Amare suddenly leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. After I recovered from the weirdness of the moment, I reached out to give Gabra a handshake but she recoiled and just said “Nice to meet you Alexandre.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

I sat down at the table and they sat down too. We talked for a while and I noticed young kids drinking alcohol. “How old are they?” I asked“18 probably,” answered Amare “ That’s the legal drinking age.”

“How old are you?” asked Gabra.

“23,” I answered. of Addis Ababa where we got our lunch the day before.

“Where is Gabra?” I asked

“She hates going to Demeke’s house” Amare replied.

We drove for about an hour and we started passing by jungles.“How far is this place?” I asked “We are here’ Amare exclaimed excitedly.

I turned and saw we were right next to a pathway leading into the jungle. “Follow me!” Amare said. We walked down the pathway and I noticed there was a loud buzzing noise.We came into a clearing in the jungle and I saw a hut, a fire place, a huge set of bees in cages, and jars of honey every where. Then I heard a high and very excited voice say,

“My friend you brought the American” I turned to see a tall, skinny man with a huge afro coming out of the hut.

“Demeke!” Amare exclaimed.

“Nice to meet you” I said to Demeke. He gave me an uncomfortably weak handshake and then I asked,

“You speak English?”

“Why yes I sell my honey to American companies and I have had to learn, I am a beekeeper.”

“I see” I said looking at the bees flying around.

We sat down by the fire and talked for a while when Demeke said,

“How about we eat, I am exci ted to show you my cooking.”He ran into his hut and came out with a hand full of flatbread, vegetables, and beef.

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“What is this called?” I asked.

“Ingera, it is my specialty” Demeke said proudly.

We sat down and ate, the food tasted very good. After a while Demeke asked, “Would you like to see how I get the honey?”

“Sure” I said.

Demeke disappeared into his hut and came out wearing a big padded suit and a mask. He said “Stand back! The African bees are mean.” I watched as he open the cage and started digging in the bees nest with a jar and a spoon. He filled the jar up with honey and after swatting a couple bees away he gave the ja r to me and s a i d , “ H e r e , i t c a n b e a souvenir.”

That night I went back to the hotel and tasted the honey. It was the best I had ever eaten. After a while Amare said “Lets order,” so I asked what I should get.

“You should definitely get the coffee,” Amare answered.

“Oh I don’t really drink coffee.”

They both looked a little hurt until Gabra said, “You should try the wat.”“Ok I will.” Amare slammed his hand on the table as hard as he could and the waiter came over.

Amare ordered me the wat in Ethiopian. The wat arrived, which was a thick soup that had lentils, carrots, potatoes and chard in it and as I took a bite my mouth burned. Wat was the spiciest thing I had ever tasted. The waiter said something in Ethiopian and Amare said, “ He wants to know if you like it.”

I gave the waiter a weak thumbs up as my mouth was still burning. Then to my surprise the waiter pushed me over my chair. As I was on the floor Amare said, “Why did you just do that to the waiter.” Very confused I got up and said “All I did was give him the thumbs up.”“That means you are calling him homosexual, you should probably apologize because that is a great insult.” “Fine, tell him I am sorry.” Amare told the waiter I was sorry and then the waiter leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “He accepts your apology.” Gabra told me. Very

confused , I continued eating the spicy wat. We finished up our entrée and for dessert Amare ordered me something called destay. The delicious destay was a pastry with raisins and chocolate in it. Before we left Amare said “You have to come to my friend Demeke’s house tomorrow he would love to meet you.” “Ok, where is his house?’ I asked. “I will have to pick you up from your hotel and bring you there, its hard to get to his house if you have not been before.”

So the next morning I woke up and walked downstairs to the hotel lobby and saw Amare standing there with all long sleeves on. “ Are you going be a little hot in those clothes?” “The bees are worse than the heat where we are going”We got in Amare’s car and he sped off in the opposite direction.

26

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When I was just eight months o ld my parents dropped me off at the New York Orphanage. I thought for sure that they were going to come back and take me to live with them, I mean why not, I am their son after all. As I began to grow older, Miss Holt, the director of the orphanage, always tried to tell me that they were coming back. Because I was a stubborn little boy, I would never believe her and lock myself in the basement closet. The truth was that I knew that they were never coming back, but I just couldn’t process that thought in my head. “Today is the day, Miss Holt!,” I said as soon as I woke up. It was my 18th birthday and I was now allowed to travel to Africa by myself. A week ago, Miss Holt told me that my parents were living in South Africa, but she didn’t know specifically what city. Since that day, I had my plane ticket to Cape Town booked, my medical shots to get into the country over with, and my bags packed. The taxi cab had just arrived and the driver was in no mood to wait. I swear that he honked his horn at least 100 times within five minutes.

As I rushed out the door, Miss Holt screamed to me, “Good luck finding your p a r e n t s ! I w i l l a l w a y s remember you, Abrahem!” As I arrived at the airport, my heart was almost coming out of my chest that it was beating so hard, my palms were soaked with sweat, and my hands were shaking vigorously. JFK Airport was f i l led with strangers everywhere pushing people around in order to get to where they needed to be. It

was complete chaos. I realized that my plane was boarding right now, so I bolted for my gate screaming, “Coming through! Watch out please!” I made it to my gate just in time to board. I thought to myself this is not the best way to start the trip. As the plane landed, I realized that this was the first step to a brand new way of life. Into the taxi I climbed, on my way to the Daddy Long

Legs, my luxurious hotel in the heart of Cape Town. “Hallo,” said the cab driver, Herman. I responded asking “Hallo, lekker om jou te ontmoet,?” which means, hello, nice to meet you. Herman was very impressed w i t h m y A f r i k a a n s knowledge. I told him the only reason that I knew it was because I learned a few phrases from my handy dandy Afrikaans phrase book while I was on the plane. As soon as

I arrived in Cape Town, I headed to the public records center t o r e s e a r c h m y p a r e n t s l i f e a n d b a c k g r o u n d . I discovered that my parents used to live in Durban, South Africa. I figured that would be my next stop. T h a t n i g h t , I decided to wait until the morning before I could head to Durban.

It was only 11:00, so I had time to hang around town for a while and then head back to the hotel. Wow, Cape Town was a party town in South Africa. Cape Town is a cosmopolitan city, which is a modern and infrastructural city kind of like New York. It  is   also   the   oldest   city   in  South  Africa;   it  is  known  for  its   spectacular   art   and  museums.     The   city   is   ;illed  with   historic   buildings   due  to  the  age  of  the  old  city.

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  T h e   s u b t r o p i c a l  climate   in   Cape   Town   was  showing   off   its   full   potential  tonight.     It  was   cool,  slightly  breezy,   and   sunny,   three  perfect   climatic   conditions.    As   I   continued   strolling  around   the   town,   I   bumped  into   a   man   and   fell.     He  picked  me   up   and   I   realized  that  he  was  the  South  african  National   Soccer   Team’s  coach,  Gordon  Igesund.    I  had  always   dreamed   of   meeting  him.   I  had  posters  of  him  all  over  the  wall   in  my  bedroom  back   at   the   orphanage.     We  had   dinner   together   at   the  Roundhouse  and  talked  about  S o u t h   A f r i c a ’ s   r e c e n t  performances   in   the   World  Cup   and   the   hosting   of   the  2010   World   Cup   in   South  Africa.     The   next   morning   I  took   the  sightseeing  tour  bus  t o   Du rb an   t o   s e e   t h e  b e a u t i f u l   w a t e r s   a n d  landscapes   of   South   Africa.    When   I   arrived   in   Durban,   I  went   to   my   parents   old  house   and   talked   to   the  current   owners.     They   said  that   my   parents   moved   two  years   ago.     They   moved  because   they   both   received  better   jobs   at   the   university  in   Johannesburg.     I   thanked  the   owners   and   went   to  explore   Durban.     The   many  tropical   colors   on   the   beach  and   the   streets   stood   out   to  me.    Durban  has  a  population  of   approximately   3.4   million  people.    it  is  a  racially  divided  

city   even   though   apartheid  ended.    The  4  divided  groups  are   Black   Africans,   Asians,  Coloreds,  and  White  Africans.  Durban   is   known  mainly   for  its   beautiful   sea   life   and  beach   hotspots.     The   Sea  Wor ld   Aquar ium   i s   an  unbelievable   attraction   said  many  locals  on  the  streets.     I  decided   that  I  would  have  to  go   and   see   for   myself.     My  favorite   part   was   watching  the   dolphins   swim  and  jump  out   of   the   water   and   make  the   squeaky   sound   that   they  usually  make.     I  headed  back  to   the   most   luxurious   hotel  that   I   have   stayed   at   so   far,  The   African   Pride   Audacia  Manor.    It  was   said   to  be  the  nicest   and   quietest   hotel   in  Durban.     It  had  everything,  a  pool,  a  restaurant,  a  spa,  and  king  sized  beds.   The  next  morning  I  hit  the   road   and   headed   to  Johannesburg   to   ;ind   my  parents   at   the   University   of  Johannesburg   where   they  we re   n ow   p ro f e s s o r s .    Johannesburg   is   also   a  cosmopolitan   city   like   Cape  Town.     It   is   the   largest   city  not  situated  on  a  river  in  the  world.     It   is   the  head  city   of  the  Constitutional  Court.       I   walked   into   the  University   of   Johannesburg  and   saw   s tudents   and  professors   walking   all   over  the   place.     I   looked   around  for   my   parents   but   couldn’t  pick  them  out  of  the  mobs  of  students   and   professors.     I  

walked   down   a   hallway  leading   towards   the   Cultural  Studies   building.     I   ;igured  that   they   must   be   in   here   if  they   went   to   America   to  study  its  culture.    As  I  walked  in,  I  saw  a  ;ive  foot  four   inch  African   lady   talking   to   a   six  foot   African   man.     The  woman   turned   around   and  l o o k e d   a t   m e .     S h e  immediately   recognized  who  I   was   and   just   froze   right  there   unable   to   move.     She  eventually   bolted   towards  me  and  gave  the  biggest  hug  I  have   ever   received.     I   shook  my   fathers’   hand   and   he  grabbed  my   thumb  when   he  shook   it.     I   asked   him   with  confusion,   “What   kind   of  handshake   is   this?”     He  explained   to   me   that   it   was  c a l l e d   t h e   “A f r i c a n  Handshake”  and  that  I  should  learn   how   to   do   it.     I   asked  my  parents  their  names;  they  told   me   their   names   were  Jewel   and   Henrik.     I   had  ;inally   been   reunited   with  the  nicest,  kindest,  and  most  loving  people  that  I  have  ever  met,   my   parents.     This   was  the  brand  new  life  that  I  had  been  waiting   for   and   hoping  that  I  would  get  the  chance  to  live.   oldest   city   in   South  Africa;   it   is   known   for   its  s p e c t a c u l a r   a r t   a n d  museums.     The   city   is   ;illed  with  historic  buildings  due  to  the  age  of  the  old  city.

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Sweat dripped from my face as the plane came to a slow halt at Halali Airport in Namibia. I could hardly think about my purpose due to my thirst and the light headed sensation from lack of food. After stopping at a local food stand for some water and food, I began to feel better. I started to search through the small, crowded baggage claim for my items. Although my h u n g e r a n d t h i r s t w a s satisfied, the chaos did not bode well with my exhaustion. After the rush of people slowly dispersed from the corridor, I was able to retrieve my bags and locate my assigned vehicle. Finally, I could relax and focus on the task at hand. The reason I was i n N a m i b i a w a s f o r a volunteer project. Since my fellow volunteers and I were only two years into high school, we did have some restrictions. We were assigned the simple task of researching c e r t a i n t r i b a l values around the a r e a . I w a s especially excited for this opportunity b e c a u s e I h a d always wanted to visit Africa, but after being there for only five hours I already felt a sense of regret about my decision. We arrived to the

hotel, and got the keys to our room. As I opened the door, hoping for some luxurious suite, I was brought back down to earth. My room contained a mattress that seemed to resemble stone, a small window cracked half way down the center, and a bathroom with the most appalling smell I have ever come across in my life. My dreams of a sub-Saharan paradise had now become a nightmare. The next day it was time for me to began my research. I decided I was going to wander around the town of Halali, interviewing locals and trying to learn about the culture. I decided to go with my friend Jack who had flown from the States with me. Although other members of the volunteer group tried to discourage us f rom th i s dec i s ion , we continued with our plan to roam the streets of Halali. We first decided to hit the local diner because our hunger

preceded our task at hand. As we entered the restaurant we went to place our order.“I’ll take a bowl of the potjie kos,” said Jack, eager to get his hands on some good food. Shockingly, everyone in the restaurant turned in awe at Jack’s statement. Jack and I both knew that we had said something wrong, but we did not know what it was. Acting on instinct, I decided to lightly whisper an innocent “please,” to cover up our mistake . I thought this might ease the mood, but instead this only created more commotion. K n o w i n g t h a t w e h a d somehow upset the locals, we decided that it would be best to leave. Four days later, still haunted by our unknown blunder from earlier in the week, it was time for our second research day. Before leaving the hotel, I had to use the bathroom. Nobody had entered our bathroom because of the disturbing odor that arose from behind the closed

door. I was not going to be the first, so I decided to wait until we c a m e a c r o s s a public bathroom. Afraid of making another mistake, Jack and I decided t o b r i n g T i m , another member of the group, with us.

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Looking back on it now, the decision to bring Tim was not the smartest. Tim was known for his strength and ability to help with manual labor, but not for his intelligence. But he was a nice guy and although all three of us were starving, we did not dare go near another restaurant. We decided to poll some locals by going door to door asking questions and recording their answers. We showed up at the first house and gently knocked on the door. An old man who looked to be in his seventies answered the door. He had a happy look on his face although his house reeked of rotten food. As usual Jack took charge.“Hello sir, would you mind if w e a s k e d y o u a f e w questions?”, Jack said very politely. Instead of a quick answer, the old man invited us into his home and gave us food and drinks. We thanked him and then repeated our questions and listened to his answers. After all was said and done, we thanked him again and

began to leave. To our surprise, the old mans joyful expression became angry, as if he was offended in some way. The old man then yelled, “Get out of my house!” Scared for our lives, we ran out faster than we had ever run before. Nobody knew what we had done wrong, but Tim and I assumed that the Namibians simply did not like Jack. Finally after a couple of days relaxing, it was time for our third and final research day. This was our last day to prove ourselves and collect the data for our research. Since Tim and I assumed that Jack was the source of our problems, I thought I should take charge. I decided to go to the historic part of Halali, and ask about the ancient tribes of Namibia. This part of Halali c o n t a i n e d i n t e r e s t i n g a r c h i t e c t u r e a n d m a n y museums. We decided to go to the largest museum. There were friendly people at the entrance who showed us around and led us to where we could actually interview old

tribal members themselves. As excited as we were about this opportunity, we were still worried about making an error with our words or etiquette. We met the tribal member and similar to the old man he was very happy and welcoming, but I did not let this get to me. I decided to greet the tribal man in a different manner than the way Jack had greeted the old man. I stood up, took a step back, and took a bow.“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your honor.” The second after I did this, I realized how odd this must have looked. As I bowed I could hear Tim and Jack trying their best not to laugh. The tribal man found it a m u s i n g . F e e l i n g v e r y embarrassed, I decided to proceed with the interview. I was happy that the tribal man seemed a bit more relaxed than the old man. I started with my first question,“ I was wondering if you could let us know what tribe you are in.”

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Once again I was expecting a simple answer, but the tribal man just stood up and left. All of us were more than puzzled. At first we figured he went to the restroom or something, but then we realized that he was not returning. For the third time we had messed up and we had absolutely no clue what we were doing wrong. We went back to the hotel, and began to pack our bags and gather the small amount of research we retrieved. Although disappointed with our research and poor living conditions, the trip was overall a good time spent with my newly made friends. The next morning it was time to head back to the airport, we double checked to

make sure we had everything packed. Before we left for the airport, I had to use the bathroom. This time I could not wait. I knew I had to make the brave journey to the dreaded bathroom in which absolutely no one had entered during the entire trip. As I walked in, I was surprised that it was not as bad as I expected. As I was washing my hands, I glanced up and to my surprise I saw a large sheet posted above the sink t i t l e d T A B O O S O F NAMIBIAN CULTURE. I read the list and each of the bullet points explained every one of the mistakes we had made. We all felt like fools for not entering the bathroom sooner. The reason we were

outcasts in the restaurant was b e c a u s e J a c k h a d n o t commenced the conversation with the waitress properly. And the reason the old man got so upset was because we had no gifts for him to thank him for letting us into his home. And finally the reason the tribal man was offended was because it is considered r u d e t o e n t e r i n t o conversation about one’s personal tribal life. These events made for a humorous plane ride home full of laughter. And the biggest lesson that Jack, Tim, and I had learned is that no matter where you go, always check the bathroom first.

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It was my third day on my t r i p t o Z imbabwe . Zimbabwe is a country in S o u t h e a s t A f r i c a . T h e population is 98% African, 1% Asian, and 1% white. When I was planning my trip, I found that I could spend the day on the Zambezi River in a boat. I visited the shack that chartered the boats and was told there was a boat leaving in fifteen minutes. As I was about to leave on my boat tour down the Zambezi River, I was a bit nervous and my palms started sweating and my heart was beating l ike a drum. I doubted the boat made of reeds and sticks ability to support me and two natives. I asked Bonginkosi, my guide who spoke poor English, “ Are you sure this is safe?” I t a lked and made hand motions to try to make it easier for him to understand. Bonginkosi responded, with a reassuring, “Yah, of course it is, I have done dis many timez!” This made me feel a little better. We departed down the river in his so-called boat, and sure enough it stayed afloat. As we were traveling down the river, I talked with Bonginkosi’s friend named Makakosha, who was a fisherman. I first asked him what his name meant, he said, “It m e a n s ‘ L o r d y o u a r e

p r e c i o u s . ’ ” I a s k e d Makakosha what animals lived in the Zambezi River and Makakosha replied, “Der(d-air) are many animals i n d a r i v a h . D e r a r e crocodiles, hippos, catfish, tiger fish, and also der have b e e n s o m e b u l l s h a r k s caught.” Sweat started dripping down my forehead hearing the names of those animals. As we traveled down the river, we came up to some rapids, which stood a little up-stream from an Ndebele village. Then all of a sudden the rapids became too tough. Our boat did not stand a chance. We were slammed into a mass of rocks and e jec ted f rom the boat . Bonginkosi, Makakosha, and I all managed to reach shore. We wandered down the shore until we reached the small Ndebele village. It looked very different from the western world. The locals lived in small clay huts, and were all gathered around

fires. Some of the people looked l i ke they were starving to death. It was a very sad and eye opening experience for me. I did not know how to act because I had not done any research on the Ndebele people and their customs. I had only researched the Shona. We entered their v i l l age and the l eader approached us from a hut. We shook hands and then he introduced his daughter. As I went to shake her hand, two men grabbed me. Bonginkosi and Makakosha explained that they valued personal space and not touching women, especially married women. Despite my mistake, the Ndebele forgave me and all was well. Later  that  night  while  waiting  for  a  boat  to  pick  us  up,   the   leader   invited   us   to  dinner.   His   daughter   had  prepared  the  meal.   It  was  a  type   of   soup   or   porridge  and  it  was  delicious.  When  I  ;inished,   I   looked   at   the  

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leader’s  daughter  licked  my  lips   and   said,   “mmmm…  m mmm… .   T h a t   w a s  delicious!”  Little  did  I  know,  I   had   done   two   more  offensive   things.   This   time  the   leader   said   it  was   time  to   leave.   He   sent   us   to   sit  and  wait  on  the  bank  of  the  river.   Once   the   Ndebele  people   brought   us   to   the  bank   of  the  river  and  left,   I  asked   Makakosha   and  Bonginkosi  what  I  had  done  this   time.   They   explained  that   licking   your   lips   and  looking  at  a  woman  meant  that   you   wanted   to   have  sexual  intercourse  with  her  and   that   making   noises  with   your  mouth   was   very  disrespectful .     I   had  

essentially   told  the  leader’s  daughter,   who   I   offended  earlier,   I   wanted   to   have  sexual  intercourse  with  her.  Also   I   disrespected   the  leader   and   his   family   by  making   those   noises   with  my  mouth  at  dinner.  Before  we   l e f t ,   t he   l e ader ’ s  daughter   sneaked   to   the  bank   of   the   river   and   told  me   that   she   knew   I   had  made   a   mistake   and   I   did  not  mean  it.  She  quickly  left  to   ensure   her   father,   nor  any   of   the   villagers,   would  see  her  with  me.     I  told  Makakosha  and  Bonginkosi   that   I   enjoyed  our   wild   day.   We   watched  the   sunset   as   we   awaited  the   boat   to   arrive.   Finally  our   boat   arr ived   and  

brought   us   back   to   the  Shona   village.   The   Shona  village   was   much   larger  and   more   sophisticated  than  the  Ndebele  village.     I   spent  my   last   three  days   with   Makakosha   and  Boginkosi.   When   it   was  time   to   leave   I  was  upset,   I  did   not   want   to   leave   my  new  friends.  We  had  a  good  time  with  each   other,   but   I  had   to   leave.   Bonginkosi  was   really   starting   to  improve  his  English   in   just  four   days.   After   I   told  Bonginkosi  and  Makakosha  goodbye,   I   drove   through  Harare  all  the  way  down  to  Cape   Town,  which   took  me  26  hours.  As   I   reached   the  airport,   I   told   myself   I  would  visit  again  next  year.

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I landed in Mali’s main a i rpor t , Bamako Sénou International airport, on a humid Sunday, June 18. To my surprise, it rained quite a bit. I was planning to stay in a hotel called Comme Chez Soi in Bamako, Mali. On my way to the hotel we rode past many locals speaking the native language. The men wore long, robe-like articles of clothing. The women wore wrap skirts and, what looked like, some sort of tunic and a headdress. I took almost a year to plan the perfect trip to Mali. I was so excited to check into my luxury resort, o n l y t o f i n d t h a t m y reservation had been changed to the following month. Panicking I started pacing and speaking very fast. My heart raced, unsure of what to do in this situation, in such a foreign place. The manager asked me to step outside because I was “disturbing the peace.” I found that, apparently, some of the locals know English. Unfortunately I learned this through a slightly awkward situation. One woman walked up to me and asked a question, but I was unable to comprehend the language. Obviously, she understood that I was a tour i s t , and she spoke English. She wasn’t very specific or clear, but she was understandable. Her name was Djeneba. I asked her

how she knew English and she expla ined tha t her husband was an American, who learned the native language because he was a travel guide. She went on to say that he, also, was a Muslim. The major religion of Mali is Islam. I asked what their native language was and Ms. Djeneba said the native language is Bambara and the official language is French. She, then, invited me to stay with her for as long as I needed.

As we walked back to her home, she warned me to be aware of our surroundings. Curious, I asked “why?” She gave me a puzzled look, and explained the dangers of Mali at the time, especially in the North. I listened closely as Ms. Djeneba started with the history of the Islamic rebels. She, then, continued on about the French forces joining in to help the government of Mali control the rebels. After a f ew minu te s o f t h i s

conversation, Ms. Djeneba remembered that she forgot to buy millet and fabric. Millet is a grain commonly used to make cereal. She asked sa yafa n, or “please forgive me” in Bambara, because she needed to go back into town to purchase the items she needed. Every now and then she would say something in Bambara and see me struggle to comprehend what she said and she realized she spoke in B a m b a r a a n d q u i c k l y translated it into English.

Ms. Djeneba made it clear that she did not have many chances to speak English, what she knew of it. I could see she liked having the chance to interact with a foreigner, an American. We walked back into town and we passed many men and women wearing long, robe-like dresses. I knew that people in Mali wore these, but I had no clue what they were called.

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Ms. Djeneba said they were called boubous.Thinking it would be pretty good to have one, I asked if she would make me one if I paid her. She said yes. When walking up to a cart with fabric, I noticed Ms. Djeneba stop to talk to a man wearing a blue veil. She gestured for me to come over, and I did so. The man sa id Ne tɔgɔ Amas ta n . I tɔgɔ? , M s . Djeneba translated for me. The man had said “My name is Amastan. What is your n a m e ? ” S t a r t i n g t o understand the basics of the language I stumbled over saying Ne togo Ally. After standing beside Ms. Djeneba while she talked to Amastan I n o t i c e d s o m e t h i n g particularly odd about him. Parts of his face were blue! Once they finished talking, Ms. Djeneba realized that I noticed the blue on his face. While she paid for the items, she told me that Amastan was a Tuareg, which is a race of people where the men wear blue veils in front of women,

and in public, generally. These men are sometimes called “blue men” because, sometimes, the blue dye from their veils dye their faces. We left the marketplace only to find we’d have to find another route back. An i n c i d e n t h a d o c c u r r e d between 2 terrorists and a few policemen. They were in a gun fight. Deciding we should probably wait a while before returning home, we rode a taxi to the zoo. I asked Ms. Djeneba how often that type of incident occurred and she laughed and said I ask many questions, so I let her

ask me questions. I hadn’t realized that the entire time we were together, she never even found out what state, or even city, I was from! After I told her my origins, she asked if New Orleans had much crime, like Mali. She was surprised to find out that p e o p l e a r e k i d n a p p e d , mugged, shot, and killed there. I specified that although we have those problems in New Orleans, we don’t have many bombings or terrorist attacks. An hour or two passed and we left the zoo. Ms. Djeneba was very kind to let me stay with her throughout my trip. The rest of my stay was good but not as exciting although she did show me pictures of Timbuktu before it was taken over by the Islamic rebels, and then by the French. As for her husband, I never have met him. When settle in, back home, I will be sure to keep contact with Ms. Djeneba. Mali has been very fun, entertaining, interesting, and, definitely, beautiful!

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