Trapped in the Toilet

So we had absolutely wonderful time in Cape Town, except for the small excursion to the African dance theater. Angie had it in her mind that the family needed a little African culture. She happened to see at the hotel a brochure for the African dance theater – it was a lovely brochure with beautiful pictures of Africans in traditional African garb dancing in what appeared to be authentic and ancient types of African dance. None of us were really all that excited about going to the African dance theater, but in the interest of keeping the romance alive in my marriage I decided to attend with a good attitude.

An important part of the story is that… Before we went to the dance theater we decided to rent a car because it was becoming an incredibly expensive endeavor to hire a driver everywhere. What we thought was costing us R20 (R is for Rand) a trip was actually costing us R200 a trip… That’s equivalent to about $50. What was interesting about renting a car in Cape Town was that the steering wheel was on the other side of the car and everybody drove on the other side of the road… Or as I would say the wrong side of the road… But the South Africans took offense to that. Needless to say, I was extremely stressed about having to drive on the other side of the road in a strange place. Since I am accustomed to instinctively aligning everything off of my left shoulder I tended to drift over to the left quite a bit.… And it seemed that every few seconds Angie would give a subtle yet obvious sigh of fear and clutch at her heart thinking I was going to hit something on the left side of the car. Before we left for the dance theater we stopped and asked the concierge if it was okay if we walk since the theater was only about three or four blocks from the hotel. And the concierge advised us not to walk, because the return trip would be in the dark and it is extremely dangerous to walk the streets of Cape Town in the dark especially for white tourists. So… We had to drive the car.

I was trying to avoid driving the car because it’s scarier driving on the other side of the road than it is getting in the ocean with great white sharks.  In fact, I would much rather get in the ocean with great white sharks that the drive on the other side of the road. But… It was necessary to maintain the harmonious nature of my marriage. So… we arrive at the African dance company theater and to our surprise it was… Less than what the brochures had indicated! Fortunately I didn’t have to point it out to Angie or say that I told you so because she immediately recognized the error of her ways. It was a pit! But, at $30 a ticket, which we paid for in advance we were obliged to endure the performance.

However, before the performance was to begin the anxiousness of me having to drive on the other side of the road – I told you that part of the story was important – caused my intestines a little irritation… Needless to say I was in need of a bathroom break or as the Africans would say I needed a toilet! So… I made my way to the restroom proceeded to lock the door to my private little stall… Did what I was there to do… And upon trying to exit my private little stall realized that the door was completely broken and stuck in the locked position! Yes, the door was locked shut and I could not – no matter how hard I rammed my shoulder into the door or how violently in vigorously I shook the door I could not jar it or even break it open. I was trapped in the toilet stall. Now when I went into the restroom Nathan and Jay came in as well, but they were already gone. So my screaming their names was to no avail. So there I am standing in the toilet stall screaming for Nathan and screaming for Jay, but no one would answer. Now you would think that there would be a lot of traffic in and out of the restroom immediately before the show was about to begin… Nope! My only guess is that the rest of Africa new this theater was such a pit – I think it was us and about five other people (who by the way we found out were white people from Australia) made up the entire audience. So the three other males who are in the audience had already gone the restroom so no one was coming in and out. I was trapped in the toilet stall and nobody can hear me scream. I had resolved that I would crawl under the door of the stall to free myself from my imprisonment. Unfortunately, it was only about half of inch space between the floor and the bottom of the door. Even though I’ve lost a few pounds while here in Africa that was not going to work, So I resorted to my next option of screaming and yelling. But with all the excitement of the African drums rhythmically pounding in the preshow entertainment no one could hear my screams. So I resolved myself to just sit and wait thinking at some point in time Angie would wonder what was wrong with me and what happened to me and send the boys to come find me. Well, she obviously didn’t care… Because she never sent anybody to come find me.

You see the lock had broken once I close the lock the mechanism inside broke free and it could not be on opened it was like a doorknob that just was freely spinning without catching any mechanism… Eventually I made enough noise that one of the women walking through the hallway on her way to the restroom heard me screaming opened the door and said, “ excuse me is there problem in here?” To which I replied yes I’m trapped in the bathroom toilet stall – she said, “oh my goodness I will get security.” So a few minutes’ later security walks in. He says in his South African accent, “what seems is be the problem sir?” To which I reply – “I’m trapped in the bathroom the door lock will not unlock – the internal mechanism in the lock has broken free and the latch is just spinning freely.” To which he replies and I don’t know why was surprised – “sorry, we’ve been having problems with that lock.” Of course they were! Then he said what do you need me to do to get out of there – and I said, I was hoping you could tell me. Since I had been examining the door latch for the last 20 minutes and observed that with a Phillips head screwdriver I could remove the entire lock from the door, I asked for a Phillips head screwdriver. He said okay I’ll go get a screwdriver – now at this point it’s important for me to mention that when he said that I reiterated to him that it needed to be a Phillips head screwdriver. A few minutes later he shows up with a screwdriver. Great I have been saved! He standing on the other side of the door and we both realized there is no way for him to get the screwdriver to me. There is not enough space between the bottom of the door and the floor for the screwdriver to fit under. Mind you this is not just a toilet stall it’s Fort Knox there are no gaps over the top where he can pass me to screwdriver. So we decide he has to remove one of the ceiling tiles over the bathroom door and he can pass it to me through the ceiling space. But to do that he needs a ladder… So I wait for him to get a ladder he comes back with the ladder removes the ceiling tile and passes me to screwdriver over. Wait for it… It was a flathead screwdriver! I asked the security person about it and he said that it was the only screwdriver in the entire building – so it would have to do. So here I am on the other side of the bathroom trying to unscrew the four Phillips head screws with a flathead screwdriver. Eventually – after my blood pressure and heart rate have been elevated beyond normal limits – I was able to get the entire lock off the door. The door opened and I was free from my imprisonment. The guard glibly commented that he had better fix the lock before he puts it back on. Apparently this happen before and not knowing what to do with the broken lock – is a don’t throw anything away – just put it back on the door.

So I walked into the theater to find my family and close in conversation with a very nice Australian couple sitting behind them. And she looks at me and says oh there you are – where were you!? I just growled and sat down. She asked again what happened to which I replied weren’t you worried about me at all for the last 30 minutes – what did you think happened to me? Of course she said, we just thought you were pooping. I told her that I been trapped in the bathroom for the past 30 minutes and have been screaming and vigorously and violently shaking the door hoping to break it off of its hinges or for someone to hear all the commotion and calm let me out… But no one did, no one cared, no one even missed me… Trapped in African toilet stall in a less than savory part of downtown Cape Town in the old dilapidated theater building… And my lovely wife just laughed.

Let’s see… Other things that happened on our Cape Town trip? We went to Table Mountain, which was recently named one of the seven natural wonders of the world! And I must agree it is absolutely one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I have seen. We rode the cable car up to the top of the Table Mountain and it looked as if we could see the entire world. We went to Camp Bay and me at a lovely seafood restaurant on the famous Camp Bay Beach. We had a wonderful excursion to the Cape of Good Hope (previously known as Cape fear)… Which was also an absolutely beautiful place, but very treacherous place for ships. We found out that at the Cape is where they catch about 90% of Africa’s seafood. So we ate at a restaurant called Two Oceans Restaurant. By the way, it is at the Cape of Good Hope where the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic Ocean converge. Being at one of the places in the world where you can get awesome seafood Angie and I ordered some sushi as an appetizer… Of course we insisted that the boys try sushi. And being the troopers that they were they were willing to at least try it. After Jonathan took his bite of sushi he made the statement that he had a new least favorite food in the whole world, to which we asked what used to be your least favorite food in the whole world, to which he replied without even a moment’s hesitation “salad!” We all had a good laugh. At least salad is moving up the food chain for Jonathan. But I don’t think he will be trying sushi again anytime soon. Also while in Cape Town we got to witness some authentic African dance – to which I referenced above, we also got in the water and did some cage diving with great white sharks! That was a truly awesome experience – at least for me and Nate. Angie and Jonathan who get motion sickness if they walk down the stairs too fast were helping the skipper chum sharks the whole trip. The only disappointment of the trip, was that Jonathan and Angie didn’t get to enjoy the sharks very much, because they were sick the entire time – and I must admit the water was extremely choppy and the swells were extremely high, so much so, in fact, that even some of the crew were vomiting over the side of the ship. After the sharks, we were able to take Jonathan to a bird rehabilitation sanctuary – which was awesome. Jonathan got to hold an eagle and a falcon and owls – he is a huge bird fan. We also went to a cheetah sanctuary and actually got to pet a cheetah – that was a pretty awesome experience as well. But perhaps the greatest joy of our entire excursion to South Africa was the fact that we stayed in a hotel with sports channels and free shuttle service to the mall – a mall which had a food court that included such fine delicacies as McDonald’s and Subway… or as my kids said “real food.”

Cape Town Mall... how nice!!!

The boys trying their new Least favorite food in the world sushi.

What else…? This past week I had another wonderful week in Kibuye (or as I referred to it in previous posts Dante’s 3rd ring of hell) teaching exercise physiology, in Marathon lecture format, to freshman, in a language that barely understand, without the access to any necessary lab equipment… What a thrill that was. Next week I get to try to teach them CPR and first aid without the use of any manikins or first aid equipment… I guess we will just practice on imaginary manikins. Side note: I swear if my students at BG ever complain again about anything pertaining to the quality of their education or the resources they have access to I am going to go nuts! They have no idea was a stressful and unwelcoming learning environment even is. Our students in America have unlimited access to books, unlimited access to Internet, unlimited access to libraries, not to mention desks and chairs in their classrooms, and instructors who (mostly) speak in their native language… Furthermore, faculty members who complain about their work environment in the United States should be drawn and quartered. I don’t mean to make any political statements about unions or collective bargaining – but I just want to say we are extremely spoiled! I have had to purchase my own PowerPoint projector, had my office moved without me knowing – twice, had my entire department moved without me knowing, have office mates who change without me knowing, have to buy my own extension cord and all of my own classroom technology – or schedule my classes around their availability, teach in a classroom equipped with a single power outlet – of course I always need to one for my computer and one for my projector, have no office space, don’t know when or what time I will be teaching on Monday until Sunday evening about eight or 9 PM, a shower that doubles as a child’s toy bucket for the beach, and get food only if the campus director remembers and I need a ride into town to get some dinner. Did I mention that the students have to find and bring their own chairs to class… And I am expected to teach while construction is going on around me (jackhammers and everything) and the constant interruption of other students walking into my classroom looking for unused chairs so that they can take it to the class that they are supposed to be in. And if the cleaning crew decides that it’s time to clean your classroom – well then – the teaching stops. They have schedule to keep therefore your class must wait and if you’ve already started your class has to stop while they clean your room. Because they will not come back later…

Interestingly, the day before I was to leave for my teaching extravaganza to Kibuye I stopped by the University office to collect a few things and check in with my colleagues – since the previous two weeks we were closed for the genocide Memorial. To my surprise I found the entire office suite area completely empty. I don’t just mean empty of people – I mean completely empty. Where all the computers had been, where all of the desks had been, where the bookshelves had been – gone! It was an empty warehouse space. It was like some kind of strange surreal dream. Everything was gone and nobody was around. The only thing that was where it was supposed to be was my desk just how I had left it. But everything else was gone. Made a few phone calls and found out that the entire department had been moved to a new location 3 miles away – not even on campus. No one thought it was necessary to tell me. Apparently over the break an executive decision was made by administration to put all of the department heads for all of the different programs on campus in the office suite area that physical therapy had been in. Fortunately, As a Fulbright scholar, they didn’t think it was right just to throw me in with all the other faculty who had been moved – against their will – into a giant warehouse in downtown Kigali. So they let me stay with all the department heads. So I have new office mate… And do not see any of my colleagues anymore. I am the only remnant of the old physiotherapy department left in the wing. And every time I ask about how or why this could happen I am always given the same excuse – and I’m not exaggerating when I say I hear at least once a day, as an excuse for why something has happened or has not happened is because “this is Africa.”

Petting cheetah's pretty cool!

On top of the world at Table Mt.

Camp Bay, South Africa. SA place for the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

Oh yeah.. forgot to mention South Africa wasnt all play. here I am giving a thrilling lecture at the University of the Western Cape.

Petting porcupines...

A few wild ostriches at the cape of good hope

We also got to see the penguins on Boulder beach in South Africa