Weekend wrap up- Destroying Bathrooms and Dancin' it Out

Hi readers!

So, I'm pretty big on not having fears and facing fears that may pop up. My brother has a lot of weird fears, like a fear of cubed ham.   I do have one irrational fear, maybe just as strange as cubed ham- getting locked in a bathroom.  I've locked myself in a building once, over a holiday weekend, but never a bathroom stall... until this week.  The bathroom door at our plant has a weird skeleton key that you lock from the inside.   I have been wary about this lock from day one...sometimes i don't even lock it because I don't trust it.  This time I unfortunately did lock it and it broke leaving the dead bolt locked.    The way the bathrooms are there's a long hall way off the hallway of offices with two 1 stall bathrooms.
  Most people work from the main office and not the plant so there aren't too many people around.    When the key would not turn the bolt, I had a horrible fear that I wouldn't be found for hours.   I was shaking the door in hopes that the lock would miraculously open, when I heard a little voice way down the hallway-  "Are you okay in there?"  I was discovered!   I would not die in a bathroom!  It took a bit of effort to coax my male coworker into the bathroom, but once he was there he  did give it his best shot to free me.   We tried the key from the outside.   They handed me a screw driver from though a window and I tried to take the lock off.  Nothing was successful, so we had to call in the plant engineers.  By this time, I had  crowd.   I was kneeling on the toilet lid trying to talk to people in the courtyard though the window when... CRACK!   The lid shattered and I feel in the toilet.  Just when I thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse.  The engineers finally broke the door, freeing me.    Luckily, I don't get embarrassed easily.   I'm just going to say that incident report I had to fill out was hilarious. I laughed a lot that day.  Probably more than I have in years.

So it's been a pretty exciting week for me in South Africa.  Besides conquering my biggest fears,  I've been hustling and busting my ass to get everything done in the three weeks I have left in this amazing country.    Work-wise I've been busting my ass on what I'm now affectionately calling my "senior project".  One of my objectives was to design a prototype.  I had to review insights work, come up with an idea, develop recipes, produce samples in the pilot plant and then complete necessary analytical.  I spent several 12+ hour days this week in front of a deep fryer, leaving work smelling like a short order cook.

I got my hair did

By Friday I was ready for some fun.   Despite leaving work at nearly 8 pm after arriving before 7am and being on my feet in safety shoes all day, I grabbed my friend and dragged him to & for Toy Toy, this techno night that I love.  The club reminds me of an old Chicago club in the 90's/early 2000's- Crobar, but much smaller.   The vibe is similar though.    Luckily, my friend enjoyed it was well.   Although we didn't stay too late (relative), I only got about 2-3 hours of sleep before needed to rush to DNA Salon for my first (and only) haircut in SA.   The place was already packed at 8:30 am.   I absolutely loved my experience there.  I've been searching for this kind of treatment for years!    The stylist sat down with me before we started and showed me pictures and dye samples and looked at my pictures.   She gave some great input and suggestions.   Although sitting in a chair in a crowded salon while someone messes with you hair for 4 hours is not the most fun thing to do with no sleep and a slight hang over, it was well worth it.   I loved the end result.  I highly recommend DNA salon in Bedford Centre Mall.

After lunch I was hoping to sneak a nap in at home, but my friends dragged me off to Soweto for what was supposed to be a tour.  Soweto, one of the last touristy places I needed to check off my list.  Soweto is a bustling township outside of Johannesburg that was at the center of the Apartheid struggle as well as Nelson Mandela's official residence.   I uber'd over to Vilakazi Street street, wearing my sneakers, ready to tour.   She gives me a call and says, you are in front of the house, go take a look and meet us at the bar across the street.  We'll be drinking and waiting for you.  Perfect!  Pub crawl is more my thing.

The house is the original that Mandela owned with his first wife Evelyn in 1945.  Later his second wife, Winnie, and their children lived there while Nelson was in prison.  The house was restored in 2008, as it was destroyed by police during Apartheid.   The house now contains artifacts and awards pertaining to the struggle for freedom.    It was interesting, but only took about 20 minutes to read everything.


Then I was off to the Sakumzi.  Sakumzi is a tradition African bar/restaurant.  The original plan for my work farewell lunch was Sakumzi, but it was veto'd.  My friends still wanted me to check it out.The vibe was fun.  It's outside shared seating on picnic tables. There's both a buffet of traditional African food and an a la carte menu.    I found them sitting at a long table with a large group of new friends. The new friends were all in a motorcycle club  together and were touring around SA, with their next trip actually being Myrtle Beach next month.

 They ended up picking up the entire tab, which I was surprised and grateful, so I thanked them and then I thanked them some more when I realized none of my friends had acknowledged their generosity.  After they left, my friends were like "What are you doing??  Why did you thank them??"  And I was like "Why didn't you??"    Their response was "because they are men.  They were supposed to pick up the tab."  This started a long discussion.   Apparently, they don't believe in saying thank you, even to their significant other's... because it is expected, so why thank them for doing what they are expected to do.   I found this strange and then went on to thank pretty much everybody we encountered for everything, much to my friends' dismay.

I wanted to go to a shebeen next, which is a type of township bar that has political history.   My friends looked at me like I had lost my mind and took me to Chaf-Pozi a local bar underneath the Orlando Towers instead.  The towers are old cooling towers from a now defunct coal power plant.  The  have been painted all funky and re-purposed as an adventure center, where you can bungee and abseil and what not.  This was obviously not open that late, but I did get a few cool night shots of the towers and got to check out an almost shebeen, or at least the closest thing to a shebeen the girls would take me to without male escorts.  We met some people on the way out and all headed to a News Cafe in Woodmead.

News Cafes are a chain of bar/restaurants.   I have one near my place, but I don't understand how every News Cafe I've been to is substantially better than the one near me.  This one was particularly fun and our new new friends brought more new friends, whom were really really into Chicago hip hop and totally schooled me.   They wanted to drag me to some afters hip hop party, but I figured 48 hours was past  my no sleep limit and it was time for a nap.

Night cap at News Cafe

My happy this week, is my pet caterpillar, Bob.  Bob is getting so big (he's actually even bigger now).  He likes eating flowers and napping.  He dislikes being petted and picked up.  (I totally miss my fur babies, can you tell?)

Bob.