I am no longer alone with the unicorn.  Two other WWOOFers have joined us in our crumbling farmhouse: Jose, a 60 year old Parisian, and Maria, an Italian in her late 30s.  WWOOFers do tend to be in their 20s, but hey.  Maria is very nice.  We’ve been biking the 6km to the sea in order to find a place to watch the World Cup games as Franz doesn’t own a TV and the town we’re in–if you can call it that–has only one bar, and it closes at 8.  Which makes tons of sense. It’s a great little ride though, through the fields of wheat and red poppies, cows, wild roses, those farmhouses with the thatched roofs, etc.  And the sleepy little seaside town we head to also has only one bar/restaurant with a TV, but the owners are football fans and during the two games of the semi-finals the place has been full of either German or Dutch tourists.  The first game, I walked in while Maria was locking up the bikes and the owner asked me, increduously, “Are you Dutch, then?  You are very tan.”

“Non monsieur, en fait je suis americaine.”

“You can’t be American.  You are here to watch the match and you speak French.  You are Dutch–or perhaps, South American.”

…ok…that makes perfect sense.  Guess I’m rooting for Holland in the finals. 

While Maria and I get along quite well in our struggling French, Jose…well…Jose asked me what I thought the meaning of life was on the second day I knew him, and then tried to trap me into admitting that eating animals was immoral.  I told him that I didn’t care about his opinions on philosophy and that they’d have to pry the bacon from my cold, dead fingers before I became a self-righteous vegetarian.  (My French is improving.) In retrospect, that was a little rude, but Maria and I had been on a (mercifully) short drive with him to check out the beach and GOOD GOD.  I think he might have touched the steering wheel only when we were in danger of hitting something and instead used his hands to gesticulate as he TURNED TO FACE ME IN THE BACK SEAT while telling some damn fool story about his readings in psychotheraphy.

…Jose has actually just interrupted me.  He has given me a gift.  It is a sticker.  It reads:

L’être humain n’existe que dans sa relation à l’autre. 

Translation: Human beings don’t exist except for their relationships to one another.  Loosely, anyway.  He is so strange.  What the hell is this supposed to mean?  Where did he get this?  WHY DOES HE CARRY SUCH STICKERS ON HIS PERSON?

Mealtimes are always fun because they consist of me, Maria, and Franz all trying to head Jose off before he begins one of his 3 hour lectures on sh*t he’s learned in life.  Speaking of meals, I have some work to do before dinner so I’m going to get on that.  Imagine: Franz is letting me wrestle a 5M high, 100M long massively overgrown hedge back into a straight line, with an ancient and razor sharp pair of shears!  I realized yesterday that flip flops were not the optimal footwear for such an assignment.

Let the betting on when I lose a limb or finger begin.

So long time since last blog entry. I’ve met up with my GAP group, and they are BRILLIANT. I’m in Windhoek now, and have been riding this truck called Denver through Namibia for the past week. There are 22 of us on the trip and everyone is a rock star. Our fearless leader, Elbie, is chill like a day at the beach and she takes fantastic care of us. She calls everyone honey and drinks vodka. Our driver, Barry, has worn shoes twice, smokes a pipe, and has a pile of bangles on his wrist, one of which he uses to open beer bottles. Also, he is Chuck Norris. They are both South African badasses. The first morning on the bus, I decided that (about 12 hours after meeting everyone) we all needed trip nicknames. Now we all finally have ones. I actually have two. Officially, I am known as “Gums” because I eat winegums all the time. Whatever, they are a delicious confection and you cant get good ones in the states. I refuse to be judged. Unofficially, they call me TFA, or “that f*cking American” because I’m the only one on the trip. Everyone else is Canadian or European. Except, of course, for my fantastic roommate, DJ Tash, who is Australian. Together, we make up Team F*ck Up. Because most of what we do together ends up going wrong. Anyway, here are some highlights over the past week.

1. Climbed up this massive dune at Sossuvlei, the dead pans in the Namib desert to watch the sun rise over the dunes.

2. Quad biking in Swakopmund. I only had one accident where I drove into a dune pit and almost flipped. Had enough speed to get back out though…was also the only one in the group to get air going up a hill!

3. The food on this trip is great. We stop for snacks all the time, and last night we had stewed springbok for dinner. I also discovered these snacks that are a combination between potato puffs and bacon. This. Is. Genius. And it needs to be sold in America IMMEDIATELY.

4. I got thrown by a horse! TWICE!! Ok, that wasn’t a highlight. But I was really glad that I had, in fact, brought my eye surgery painkillers with me.

5. We went game driving and saw elepants, lions (including cubs, and an attempt at a kill!), giraffes, about a million zebra and springbok and oryxand kudu and antelope…It’s amazing, the few minutes in Etosha and we’re all like HOLY SH*T A ZEBRA!!! And by that afternoon, everyone is going…dammit…prey, again! BUT, I did spot a leopard, the most elusive of the big five, not ten feet from our truck, sitting in the brush off the road. I win at game spotting.

Anyway, tomorrow it is off to Botswana!