Day 1 and 2

So how do I begin? I guess from the beginning. I arrive Johannesburg airport at 8:30 am. Upon peering out of the business class window I see what appears to be a barren area unlike that of London the day before flooded with lights and cars moving about: I am not in Kansas anymore. I am in Africa. I get off the plane and follow a series of hallways in a very empty airport. I arrive to a check point, have my passport stamped, and reach the transfer window where the adventure begins. I am greeted by two of the most beautiful Black women I have seen in the month of August. They kindly tell me my e-ticket is invalid due to the earlier missed flight and in order for me to reach my destination I would have to kindly fork over $2,000 American dollars……………….hmmmmmmmmm, how about hell niggity NO! In a moment of mental suspense I tell myself this can’t be. Much like the scene in the matrix where Neo realizes he has to save Morpheous, I too realize I will catch this plane. Determined I walk back through the check point and follow a ten minute path to a Virgin Atlantic woman who is getting off her duty. I explain to her my situation and she assures me I will be able to catch my flight……………..It’s just going to take ten more minutes on a walk that has me climbing 3 flights of stairs………Ok so maybe I opted for the escalator, but hey it’s all to the good. After an hour of back and forth with the very shrewd and merciless people of South African Airways I am taken on a bus that transport me to a remote place in the airport where I board a 52 passenger plane that takes me to Bulawayo. The plane ride had me clinging onto dear life with every little bump and turbulent jump. In an hours time I arrive to what seems like more of an oasis than when entering Johanessburg. This is definitely not Kansas. After a meticulous hour of explaining my reason for being in Bulawayo, I meet the program director at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe: Voti Thebe. I also meet the US embassy correspondent Gladys. I walk out of the airport which was essentially a small one story three room building out into what seemed like a movie. There is a group of children sitting out on the dirt ground listening to women speak to them. I ask Mr. Thebe what are they doing. With a smile he replies: A field trip to the Airport. Along the 20 minute drive into the city I see children dressed in uniforms walking along the dirt unpaved road. People appearing from tall grass fields and vanishing. It’s unreal. I ask Mr Thebe where are the children walking. He replies with a calm smile “Oh they are walking from the airport where school is to the city.” Shocked I ask how long does this take? He replies “maybe 2 or three hours, give or take”. I realize I am not in Kansas anymore. I enter the city and it is literally as if I went back 50 years. The architecture, the cars, the structure of the city is unlike anything I have ever witnessed in my life. Everything seems like a layer of dust has been applied. The people however are smiling and enjoying what would certainly be doom for most average Americans. My guide Clifford takes me on a tour of the city, and the gallery where I meet other artists. Some are fitted to stereotypical appear as what artists are believed to look like. Somehow it was translated to the people that in order to look like an artist you need to grow dreads. I was clean cut which put wrinkles on the foreheads of the people.