Well, thanks for asking.
The answer: Stranded in the Transkei with a broken down car, twice.
The detailed story is forthcoming, but suffice it to say that I have had an incredible vareity of adventures in the past week and a half, from flat tires to slipped clutches, from potholes to wrong directions, from being offered lobola to harassing phone calls, from tea four times a day to a traditional Xhosa coming-of-age ceremony, from being alone to being taken care of by the family of Rotary.
I arrived back in Durban last night, to the open arms of my roommates.
I am well and happy.
But my car is still broken, hundreds of kilometers away in East London, where it will not be fixed until May.
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