Family

“This one time, when we got stopped by the police in Zimbabwe,” is just one of the many anecdotes that my family’s visit has given me to share at parties for the rest of my life. “Ten minutes later, when we were stopped by the police in Zambia,” is how I’ll follow it up.

I was well-fed, well-dressed, and spectacularly entertained for the past two weeks by visitors from home – my Mom, Dad, Uncle Boyd, and Aunt Lynn. I wanted to make sure that their first trip to the African continent was a positive one; I hadn’t even thought about how much I would get out of their visit.

(Honestly, most of what I’d thought about was how quickly my dad was going to whisk me out of the country if anyone mugged us….thankfully, the only thievery we experienced was this one time, when my mom tried to shoplift in Zambia.)

Sure, there were some close calls. When our frightened driver in Zambia tore down the road away from a wild elephant, he was missing the passenger who had jumped out with his camera - my dad. We nearly lost my aunt to a fight that she seemed to think she could win with a woman four times her size at the Waterfront. And we all nearly became permanent residents in Zambia, when my uncle ran out of money and the airport ran out of fuel.

View of my dad as we drove away from the wild elephant.

But largely, everyone was kept safe and happy, as I had planned. And it was truly rewarding to share the country I love with people that I love. Their travels started out with me in Cape Town, took them out along the Garden Route while I spent a week at school, and then reunited us at Victoria Falls for two nights before returning to Cape Town. I enjoyed my role as a quasi-tourist, quasi-guide.

The biggest reward was a return trip to Victoria Falls, which is in such a different part of Africa, and one that feels all open and country-ish as compared to Cape Town. There were several tour highlights – a river cruise where we saw hippos, a visit to a village, Victoria Falls itself. The social highlight was meeting a white couple from Zimbabwe, who were more than happy to share everything they know and have experienced under Robert Mugabe’s brutal dictatorship. We monopolized them for at least five hours, and soaked up more information than any newspaper could have given us about the history of the country and daily life as it currently stands.

Bell Family Reunion at Victoria Falls.

It was fun to embrace a tourist role back at home in Cape Town, and see some things that were still on my to-do list – touring Robben Island, climbing Table Mountain, seeing the gardens at Kirstenbosch. Our tour of the infamous Robben Island prison was led by a former political prisoner. It was surreal to hear someone speak in the first person about the brutality experienced at the hands of the guards, the secret means of communication between the prisoners and the outside world, and the advice that Nelson Mandela offered to fellow prisoners. I will personally never tire of South African history and politics, and it was wonderful to have four brand new people interested in learning about them.

Our breakfast spot at the Waterfront in Cape Town.

Cape Town, I’ve come to see, is a fantastic city. But I’m the only Bell here now, and it’s a bit lonely.