Arrival: Johannesburg, South Africa. Welcome to Africa.

After a farewell tour that, according to my sister, lasted longer than Cher’s, I finally had my 3 large bags (one excess + one overweight = $150 extra…14 months everyone!) packed and checked on to my South African Airways flight to Johannnesburg. All the hard good-byes were said, sometimes more than once…my mom was still ringing me as the plane doors shut insisting, “let’s talk one more time before you actually take-off!” I have never been away from family and friends this long, so even the toppling little Cingular jack who said “good-bye” when I shut down my US cell phone made me teary. But, I was so excited that my journey to Africa had begun that the 17-hour flight, with a pit stop in Dakar, Senegal for fuel, passed by in no time.

I have traveled over to South Africa with a dynamic woman named Linda Tarry-Chard, a minister at The Riverside Church in New York. Linda created the South African Black Doll Project in 1995-96 and first shipped 15,000 black-skinned dolls, which were banned during the apartheid era, into the townships of South Africa. From there, Linda moved into commerce, helping fund and create organizations to train women to make the black dolls themselves, and she’s been going nonstop ever since. She is the founder and president of the Project People Foundation (http://www.projectpeoplefoundation.org/ (which site is being updated)) of which I have recently become a board member. PPF’s mission is to provide economic empowerment, education, leadership development for and humanitarian assistance to women and youth in local South African communities. While in South Africa, we will meet with various women, children, partners and friends of PPF.

While waiting in the boarding area at JFK airport, I received my first lesson on Africa and realized that I am still full of naiveté that will have to be left back in the US. As I talked to Linda about storing my bags in the Johannesburg airport, two spiky-haired South African women turned around and said, “Sorry to eavesdrop, but we just could not sit here and listen to you discuss storing your bags without saying, ‘please don’t.’ You will not see those bags again, or, best case, they will be completely ransacked.”

I doubted them: “Really? But this storage service is listed on the Johannesburg airport website? I called (twice actually) and spoke with a very nice man named Mack who seemed helpful and professional. Plus, my bags will be locked.”

“None of that matters. We promise you,” they said emphatically, “you’ll lose them.”

Two months of meticulous planning has started to unravel and I’ll need to do something I have never been very good at doing…going with the flow of things!

After checking into the Intercontinental Hotel in Sandton, which is connected to a large luxury mall that seems to dominate the social life of this affluent Jo'berg suburb, and while waiting for 4 men to figure out how to work my room safe, I went for a much-needed beer from the mini bar. With no beer opener to be found, so I called the front desk. A few minutes later, a 5th man appeared. I showed him the beer and explained that I needed it opened. He laughed, "use your teeth," he said. "Ah, my teeth are too pretty for that," I said. So, he grabbed my beer, put it in his mouth and, using his own teeth, proceeded to open it for me. Voilá. Welcome to Africa!