Bob-Katilee Birthdays

The in-laws are still here. Just kidding. Well, technically, I'm not kidding. They're still here and are having a great time. It has been fun watching them see Africa. Ruth is the ultimate American fudgie (which is a northern Michigan name for tourist). Her camera taking experiences have expanded to lining people up on the beach to get a picture of them. She has improved in her camera-carrying-in-public-stance. During the first week she would hold the camera high in the air as she walked down the street, sort of like advertising "I got a brand new expensive American camera here and you can have it if you mug me." She now keeps it carefully tucked away in her fanny pack and only brings it out when she wants to get a picture of a...parking lot or something. She actually took a picture of a man taking a "whiz" on the side of the road. She says she thought he was a car guard. Mmm hmm. Now, you have to understand that I'm not an in-law bashing person. Rather, this is a little game my mother-in-law and I play. I make jokes about them, which makes me feel good and makes her feel like I like them. Sort of a weird affection thing. All said in good humor, though. And, by the way, I do like them.

Kathy and I took the de Jagers and the in-laws out to dinner earlier this week at a super-duper fancy restaurant. Fifteeeeeeeeeeen-hundred-Rand, thank you. Yeah, so half of that was in the form of wine. For those of you back in the U.S., that's only about 185 bucks. A lot of you might be saying, "Yeah, so what's the big deal? Dinner for six at a fancy restaurant? What do you expect?" For those of you who aren't privy to my upbringing, let me fill you in. I, like my children, grew up as a child of a university professor. That meant a lot of great adventures traveling the world and family bonding, but with little to no money. See, I don't think Visa was around back then. Fortunately we now have Visa. Hey, with my eight different Visa cards, I can double my income. All at an introductory price of 1.9%; at least for the first 6 months. No problem--fill out the next Visa junk mail with "0% financing for the first 9 months" and we're set. My brother, Bill, claims he has instant access to over $100,000 anytime he wants. Has to spend 3 hours per day at the ATM over the next 3 weeks shoving each of his 18 cards in to get the maximum allowable per day withdrawal. All at a low and reliable cash advance rate of 22%. Hmmmm. I have learned not to take the Visa card to the casino. My friend Perk can vouch for the trauma that can cause.

Art and Ruth hired Thinus for the day to drive them along the Garden Route (the stretch of road between Port Elizabeth and halfway to Cape Town) so they could take in some more of the South African sites. Kara accompanied them on this adventure. It was a good trip for them and Ruth was able to take a lot more pictures of bridges, people, and the sky, in addition to some nice pictures of Kara and the landscape. Her picture taking ability is increasing so rapidly that I even swiped some of her shots to put on the website. Art and Ruth left the next day to spend a couple of days in Cape Town prior to flying back to the U.S. As she was packing, Ruth found her plastic bag of seashells and "other sea life creatures" and took them out to put in her suitcase. "Hmmm. What are those white things in my shells?" "Ugh! Mom, they're maggots!" "Maggots?" "Yes! Maggots! Aggghh! Your shells stink! What do you have in there?" "Hmmm. Maybe it's this starfish." Poor starfish. Appears he died a few hours before in the plastic bag. "But he seemed dead when I picked him up on the beach." "But Mom, he's still soft and flexible." Maybe he was just "playing" dead when he was on the beach. You know how starfish--as they lie there not moving--look like they're dead. I kept thinking of that story about the man who walked along the beach throwing starfish back into the water when another man approached him and belittled him for trying to save the starfish as so many others would perish. He told him it wouldn't make a difference. As the first man threw another back into the water he commented, "It made a difference to this one." Little did he know Ruth was at the other end tossing the starfish into her plastic bag to take back to Michigan as an "African souvenir." Ah, she didn't know. Well, the maggots got him anyway. Even though I tend to have fun poking at Ruthy-baby, as we affectionately call her, she knows I love her, in that funny affectionate way reserved only for a mother-in-law. All in all, it was good to have them here.

After a day of rest--post visitors--more birthdays were upon us. For those of you who know us, Katilee was born on my 31st birthday, June 6th. The past 10 birthdays have been the greatest of my life, as I received the greatest birthday gift of all on my 31st birthday. "What do you want for your birthday this year, Bob?" "She already came, 10 years ago." So, my birthday has added meaning for me. How did we spend the birthday? Well, Katilee, being the organized child she is, had the day all figured out. First was school. I got a chance to spend some time with Bekah and her mates at her preschool. Very cool, very fun, and a great present for me. After school we went out for a nice pizza lunch and then launched into one of the all time, great American pastimes: putt-putt golf. It was the first putt-putt we have played since being here. Felt good to test our skills on the "green" once again, albeit this time, African style. We ended the day with a movie at home and cake and ice cream. A very good day, indeed.

The next day was Bekah's "Bike n' Trike" fundraiser at her school. We spent the day playing games, eating boerswors and imitation American food (pseudo hot dogs and hamburgers) and enjoying the day. Katilee and I ran the "roll the ball into the hole and win a prize" game. Our finest competitor was none other then Jack. I've talked about Jack and his skills in the past, but feel compelled to share another one of the natural talents he has. For some reason God granted him with an adept eye and the hand coordination that makes him a champion at skeeball. You know, that ball rolling game at every fair where you get 9 wooden balls (actually, only 5 because someone lost the other 4 balls, stole them, or threw them into the wrong aisle) and try to roll them into the holes that give you the highest point values. Well, Jack wins that game. Every time. So, imagine how he cleaned up at the game Katilee and I were running. He played five times and won five prizes. Most kids only won a sweetie (which is what they call a piece of candy here) just for having the guts to play the game. A few won prizes for getting at least 2 out of 9 balls in the holes. Jack got 5 balls in the hole in one turn. No one else could match him. I felt like tossing the plastic bucket that held the prizes onto the ground, standing up, giving one of those power clenched fist salutes, and shouting "YEAH! Dat's ma boy!" These carny game skills run in the family. My brother Bill has a gift for the "claw" games. I can occasionally pick the right colored square to put my dime on that ends up matching the winning color the ball lands in. And Kathy's pretty adept at coming out of nowhere and hitting a hole-in-one on the putt-putt course, even if she is losing the game. So that my boy is king of the skeeball is no surprise to me. Someday he just may own one of those machines and travel every August around to different county fairs alongside my brother and his claw machine. After that day, Katilee had a birthday party sleepover with a group of friends from school. A nice group of kids who loved playing "eat the donut, or in this case, muffin, from the string" and bobbing for apples. Seemed to be new experiences for them. Good American party favorites.

The week ended with a newspaper article about our family in the local paper. It was sort of an overview of what I was doing here but also an in depth look at the rest of the family and the activities they are doing, from Kara's success in the Afrikaans language to Jack's achievements in karate. What made it fun for me was the continued focus on the toilets I helped fix at Pendla Primary School. The subheading for the article read: "Guest Lecturer Becomes Miracle Man by Repairing Toilets." Sounds like a National Enquirer storyline; right there next to Hitler being kept alive in suspended animation by aliens circling Jupiter, or Bill Clinton, well, you know. Thought my Dad would appreciate this article. His son, the university professor, is best known in Africa for his ability to fix a broken toilet. You taught me well, old man.