imperialist whitey

Still in South Africa. Propped up on my hotel room bed listening to The Carter Family (if, for a moment, you think I am referring to Nick and Aaron, you need to find a new blog to read) and catching up on my Bloglines. Tomorrow, after a morning leading a workshop and an afternoon planning session, I'll take the two hour trip back up to Johannesburg for the next two days and then fly back to DC on Friday night.

On my last trip to South Africa -- about five years ago -- we spent three weeks and hit what seemed like every nook and cranny of this place. This time around I feel like I might as well be in Orlando. (I was going to say Chicago, but my relationship with Chicago has changed and I would feel bad.)

Have I mentioned that my hotel room bathroom has a grass roof? Yeah, the bathroom. So does the room overall, but the bathroom roof is what disturbs me because it's not functional and I'm about ten miles from Sun City and, as I just informed Rohit, it's making me feel like an imperialist whitey.

My connection keeps dropping off . . .