Day 2: This is what the future looks like.

Arrival.

But the arrival was sweet. In a relatively short span of time, we left the plane, went through customs, got our bags, found our driver (who looked very much like a skinny version of the black guy in The Matrix), and set sail for Pretoria, which was an easy find.

It was our exact destination that revealed our driver’s dreadful directional skills. We circled around Pretoria’s university for nearly an hour, stopping at residence gates and asking for directions. The driver spoke in another language to the guards at the gates – telling them that we were students and we were trying to find our place to stay.

What he failed to mention was that we were international students looking for our place to register. The driver was getting frustrated and pissy, and the guards were equally as flustered, telling him to just drop us off at the Embassy. THE EMBASSY!

He promised he wouldn’t just “drop us off in the bush,” because “South Africa is not the safest place at night.” It was about 7 p.m. but seemed so much later. And for another 30 minutes or so, we circled around and around, stopping and going, hopelessly looking for our destination.

I thought it was funny. The other two were slightly more nervous. I didn’t really mind staying at the Embassy; the writer in me thought it would make a nice story. A hassle it would be, yes, but a nice story at least.

Finally, we found the place. And there stood Mrs. Howeveryousayhername, waiting, looking incredibly frazzled and worried. The air was chilly, and we were hardly dressed for the occasion. She took us quickly to each of our different residences. Mine was the first, an apartment with 8 rooms, two bathrooms (separated French-style: a room for the toilet and another for the bathtub and shower), and a dining/kitchen area.

The other two were shown their houses and rooms, and then we went grocery shopping down the road.

We arrived back at the residence, which is heavily gated with jagged tips that could pierce through any fence-climber, at around 9 p.m. After we each settled in our rooms and explored our houses individually, the other two convened at my house. Matt and I ate the dinners we had bought at the grocery store.

Fatigue from a day on the plane parted us early. I spent the rest of the evening setting up my barren room. I’ll upload pictures on Facebook. But let’s talk about the mechanics of this house.

1) There is no heat. We use individual heaters. Oh, did I mention July is the coldest month of the year. It’s July, in case you forgot, and our houses are freezing. Our rooms come with space heaters.

2) The cabinets don’t close, but they are all fully stocked with kitchen ware – pots, utensils, plates, bowls, even Tupperware.

3) Our door consists of a regular door and a metal bar door, which locks. Each of our rooms lock as well – in fact, everything has a lock. Probably even windows on the fifteenth story of buildings lock.

4) The toilet is weird.

5) The shower in each of our houses is different. The water in mine shoots out like consistent bullets. I can’t stand under it for too long. Washing soap out of my hair is like having my hair yanked from behind from some rude jokester. It shoots out so fast that it creates wind, which makes the shower curtain furl and unfurl and stick to my legs so that it is impossible to shake it off. It is steaming – and wonderfully – hot at first; so much so that it makes a sauna out of the bathroom – literally, thick fog is produced. But then something happens and without warning it grows gradually cold. So by the time I was finished showering, I was shivering. My room, which I thought was cold before, suddenly was my warm haven compared to the freezing bathroom.

6) The house makes noises. Eerie, creepy noises. It sounds like someone is in the house, but that’s impossible with all the locks everywhere. The door rattles, the cabinets creak open, the Boogie Man’s footsteps can be heard down the hall. And I couldn’t figure out how to lock my room door! I figured that out this morning.

At night, I hushed my worries away. It’s cool, it’s fine, you’re fine – nothing’s gonna happen. You’re alone, in a foreign country – that is awesome. Don’t stress out. Just go to sleep. And lo and behold, I did. I was dead asleep at about 11 p.m.

But I was wide awake at 5 a.m., listening to the sounds in the house. I was so sure that someone was IN MY HOUSE that I grabbed safety kitty from my desk (yes, I brought her), put her around my fingers, and opened the door to peak out.

Oh, I really had to pee. But that wasn’t going to happen, because I wasn’t going any further than the frame of my door – not even two steps across the hall to the toilet. No way, not happening. Sitting on the pot puts you in your most vulnerable position! So I held it, and made myself, though utterly not tired anymore at all, go back to bed.

Today is a day of errands and exploration.