Camels! Killer Bees!

Water..... waterrrrr....... waaaterrrrrrrrrrr.........

Yes, that was my plaintive refrain yesterday, as I played tennis down here in Joburg for the first time since arriving in the country. A lovely experience, really -- happily neither my heart nor my lungs exploded in the almost oxygen-free atmosphere, and here I am to tell the tale......

Went over to a local tennis club, quite a low key place, with a small clubhouse building and I think six courts. I was told to get there about 2ish, and when I arrived ten minutes before that, there were only two souls there. An older guy, “Vasco”, (as in ‘da Gama, the explorer’) who is the owner/operator/pro, and Russell, a kid aged 15 or 16. I introduced myself, and Vasco suggested Russell and I go knock up... or “warm up”, for you Americans in the group. And a “warm-up” it was, indeed.....

Ten minutes into it, I knew I wouldn’t be playing singles anytime soon... Panting and gasping for breath was the order of the day. I tried to break out into a sweat, but the “air” is so dry that you’ve evaporated any sweat before you’ve even perspired it..... Gosh, good thing I did try to do some training before I left England! Russell was probably wondering if he was going to have to resuscitate me on court. He was quite a darling boy, really ... that wouldn’t have been all bad.... (but hang on...! I’m married, and he’s only 16... oh, God forgive me, never mind! ) So....! Back to the game....

Two more people, Barbara and Wally, showed up about 2:30 and we started playing a good game of doubles. Of course I hadn’t played for a few weeks, so my serving was crap (allow me the dignity of using that excuse, please!) but worse, of course, was that ... obviously ... we were playing outside. Now, I’ve never been known for being “outdoorsy”, and have done everything in my power to make sure I always play tennis indoors... Chicago and London both gave me perfect reasons for choosing indoor tennis (the weather, the weather, and the weather.....) But here! ......

Hell, they don’t do indoors.

So now I need to learn to deal with the sun, and the clouds (well, there aren’t any, so no problems there), and the achingly beautiful blue sky. There’s also wind, the helicopters, dogs barking. Good thing I’m not distractable. (Huh, really?) And the dry dry dryness of it all. Everytime time we changed ends, I took a swig of water, but the other three people I played with didn’t even have any water on court, at all! In fact, at last I said to my darling boychild partner Russell, “Are you guys all camels?”..... and he turned around, away from me, shaded his eyes and looked off to the horizon. Then turned back, saying, “Pardon?”

I repeated the question, “Are you guys all camels? Don’t you need some water???” And he blushed furiously and said, “Oh, I thought you said that you saw some camels over there.”

Now this was something different! A native South African apparently would not be surprised to see camels walking across the grassland surrounding his tennis club? Hmmmm. This country could be even weirder than I thought!

We ended up splitting sets, and going into the cool of the clubhouse for a drink. In fact, it was not that cool in the clubhouse, only shaded, and as soon as I sat still I was suddenly covered with a glowy sheen of sweat. (Finally! Although probably not an attractive look....) Drank the rest of my litre of water, and then Barbara said, “Prim’s here, let’s go out and have another match!”

Oh my Gawd! And here I thought we were done! Stood up and realized I had better refill my water bottle. I went over to the sink behind the bar and filled it up... but could only get hot water to come out of the tap. Yeah, that’s interesting! The one time in a foreign country when you just DON’T want hot water, you get it! Oh well, off to the court again. I hoped my legs wouldn’t start to cramp, in the heat and the exquisitely arid conditions.....

This time, it was a ladies doubles match. Barbara, me, Prim, and Desiree... (The names here are great ... cooler even than Arabella, Jade, and all the Fionas and Emmas of England...) We stood around chatting, and making some introductions, when suddenly the other three fell silent.

“Bees.”

“Yes, I hear them! That can be quite dangerous.”
(or..... “Yis, Ah hee thim! Thit kin be kwaat din-je-rus.”) (sorry, South Africans, but your accent is just too wild! .... more on that later.....)

I listened, and indeed, I could now hear this terrific buzzing sound. Not from some mid-distance tree, or from up in the sky, or from over by the clubhouse, but apparently the bees were all flying along at speed right along the pathway at the edge of the court! It sounded like the straightway on an insect Indy 500. “Vreee, vreeeeeee, vreeeeeeeee! .......... Vreeeeeee!!!!! Vreeee!!!” I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to leave the court if it carried on ... I mean, can you cross a major “bee highway” and not get stung? Or, what if they just picked you up and carried you away?

I turned to Barbara and asked her if there was a problem... “Are they, like, killer bees?”

She burst out laughing, “Oh my word, no. It’s just that you don’t want to have anything sweet on you when they’re around... a juice or an orange or something like that.”

I imagined bees swarming all over sweet lil’ ol’ me, and then tried to put that all out of my mind and play some more tennis. Des and I pummelled Barbara and Prim. I finished off most of my second litre of (piping hot) water, bade my farewells to this friendly bunch at about 4:45, and staggered home for a nice glass of wine, a hot bath, and a very early bedtime.

Looking forward to seeing Russell.... ( ....and the ladies too, of course) .... again next Saturday....