I'm in Africa!

Yes. An African is I, according to the temporary residence sticker in my passport. While I have posted from here, I haven't posted about here.

We flew into Cape Town on the 29th. It took 26 hours. Ten to get from Atlanta to Amsterdam, 6 hour layover, and another ten to get to Cape Town. Blarg. My sleep hasn't been quite right since that.

On the 30th, the weather wasn't ideal, so our host took us on a tour of the wine country. We had lunch at a nice little restaurant and got some nifty pictures of the ocean. The next day, we went across to Robbin Island, where Mandela was imprisoned. Then, the next day, we went up to the top of Table Mountain and drove around the peninsula. We saw penguins, baboons, and, uh, seagulls. It was pretty awesome. I can't show you any of it, because I haven't been able to upload all the photos yet. But, rest assured, I will get them up eventually, and I will make a big deal about it when I do.

We then flew to Bloemfontein two days ago, where my dad will actually be speaking. We went to a star party, which was the first time I'd seen the sky of the southern hemisphere. It was phenomenally cold, and despite our attempts to bundle and layer, my mom and I were still freezing. My dad seemed fine, though. New England made him.

Yesterday, we were taken on a bizarre, uncomfortable tour of Bloemfontein. The standout was a nursing home, which was weird, then depressing. We did, however, visit a couple of museums: a contemporary art museum, a war museum, and the national museum. Those were alright.

And, now, I have to run.