Day 1 = Disaster (August 16, 2010)

(Here is an entry I wrote within 24 hours of my landing in SA though of course I have waited 2 months to actually post. I thought that looking back the entry might be grossly exaggerated but after rereading it I would say it is pretty close to reality as I saw it.)

After a groggy night of jet-lagged sleep, I awoke around 4am, lying in bed for several hours until falling asleep just before my alarm sounded (as usual). I was supposed to meet the international student coordinator at HW Snyman North Building (no idea where this is). Luckily the head guard at the gate (Andris) was able to find a student to escort me in the right direction. Sifiso was a 5^th year medical student (6 years of study in SA) from Swaziland who dreamt of practicing abroad in the U.S. He was currently on his neurology block and we both lamented the idea of exams at the end of each rotation.

I met with Anika the IH coordinator who was only marginally helpful. I completed a bunch of paperwork and then she pointed me towards Steve Biko Hospital, the main academic hospital in Pretoria. She apparently didn’t understand that I was doing research for the whole year and thought I was only doing an abroad elective in OB-GYN. Steve Biko Hospital was a complete maze…I entered on the 8^th floor directly from the street to find extremely long corridors that were poorly marked. I would have to walk several hundred yards before realizing I was in the wrong wing. In the center of the building there was a large open area that carved through all the floors, allowing one to look down to all the hustle and bustle of the other wards.

After finally finding the OB-GYN department I was told that since I wasn’t doing an elective I was in the wrong place and there was nothing they could help me with (as expected). Unfortunately, my PI in South Africa, Dr. Makin, was at Kalfong Hospital (about 20km away) and was not answering her phone.

In the meantime, I decided it would be a good idea to get a rental car. I needed to get to Church street, one of the main streets in Pretoria with a couple car rental places. After some trouble getting a taxi I was able to make my way to First Car Rental. No luck. I proceeded down the street to Hertz. They had a bright red Ford Fiesta. I took it.

Now it was time to put my manual driving training to the test. Unfortunately it had been a month since I learned from my cousin Pradeep. He had taken me around in a parking lot for a few hours before I got the hang of it. Unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to take the show on the road. My first non-parking lot driving would be in a city of madness. I immediately stalled in the tiny parking lot which was on a slight incline facing the main road. My first task was to take a blind left turn, partly because there was a big truck blocking my vision but also because I was piss-poor at inching forward without launching my car into the street. The Hertz attendant in the parking lot watched intently almost expecting me to total his brand new car before I even made it out of the parking lot. Luckily, I saw a distant red light to my right, counted for 5 seconds, and then made a dash for it. Success.

However, there was very little success left to be had.

I would estimate my stall-count to be approximately 87. And this is likely an underestimate. I caused untold psychological damage to my fellow automobile drivers and pedestrians alike. There were very few honks (surprisingly). There were many more bewildered looks. Kind of like when I’m back home and I see a 16 year old girl trying to drive, talk on her cellphone and apply makeup at the same time. “You can’t be serious. How many consecutive stalls can you have at the red light at this mediocre hill??” There were also wild cheers from pedestrians when I succeeded. However, many more had to run for cover on this day.

Missed the ‘easy’ turn. Got lost. Took an hour and a half to get back to Hippokrates dorm.

Nearly ran over a dozen pedestrians. Old man came and asked me, “why do you keep doing that?! You have a nice car. You need to stop doing that!” He was talking about the outrageous sounds I was causing the car to make, and not the fact that I had nearly killed him

Ran at least 3 or 4 red lights. One was a stale red light right in front of a police squad car.

Ran into a street square, kind of like Kenmore square on gameday. Only flashing lights and 3 lanes merging into one and the joining the square. There was some sort of festival in the middle. I have no idea which direction within the square I was going in relation to the other streets. Oops, turns out I’m now going back in the opposite direction. All streets one-way and not well-marked on the shoddy Hertz map I was given.

I could barely operate the car in the stop-and-go traffic, let alone look at the map and shift at the same time. I had no idea where I was for an unbearably long time.

Just when I found myself to be within reach of Hippokrates I turned into the wrong end of a one-way street into oncoming traffic. The construction workers stopped working and just stared. The other drivers looked scared for their lives.

When I finally made it to the Hippokrates gate I wanted to cry with relief. As I leapt from the car I realized that I had been sweating profusely. I would have sweat less if I had run a 6 minute mile instead of driving. Too bad the travel clinic didn’t prescribe any Valium. I stumbled to my room and crashed on my bed.