His name was Basil.  Basil W. Hog.  He was born in South Africa and had a face only a mother could love.  A mother and Trenton.

Most of Africa’s wild animals don’t have cute catchy names.  Basil is officially referred to as something like a Pigmasorous Rex, I think.  Actually, I stand corrected:  his official name is Phacochoerus africanus, which is just as hard to pronounce.  So “Basil” it is.

We met Basil the Warthog when we were on safari in a South African wild reserve.  So often during our trip, we noticed Trenton was able to approach and get the attention of a lot of different animals.  In this case, it was good.  Other cases, not so much.

Once Trenton established the fact that he thought Basil had a nice personality, he moved right in despite the warthog’s alarming-looking under-bite and tusks.  Beyond beautiful!  Warthogs don’t usually attack humans, but we reminded the boys to always be respectful of the fact that these are wild animals.  Our guide was a great help in telling us what to do.

The Hirn family has always made new friends easily.   When it comes to facing situations that are out of the ordinary, Ron and I have always hoped our boys would be discerning, yet judgement-free, accepting of the differences of others.  From their experiences with the severely scarred Burn Camp kids, our boys know looks are a small part of what makes up a person.  In South Africa’s playground, our circle of interest got even bigger.

From Asia to Africa and beyond, we looked for beauty in the unusual.   To the warthog, aardvark and hyena, we give you tribute!

You’re beyond beautiful!Basil’s cousin Beau — the photogenic one in the family!

Dawn

Greetings from St. Petersburg, Russia   “Zdravstvuj”

Try wrapping your tongue around that one. Just say “zdrah-stvooy.”    Oh yeah, that’s much better.  LOL.

Our Russian sounded a little like we were clearing our throats.  But the Russian people were most gracious helping us with our pronunciation – or lack thereof – and they assured us they spoke good English.  (Salt in the wound!)

Yesterday in my Facebook post, I told you about St. Petersburg’s  shorter older buildings built around 1914. Because the builders, common people who dug by hand and carried  around dirt in the front of their shirts, were dying by thousands from disease and floods, they call this city:  “The city built on bones.”

The boys adapted nicely to our trivia facts.  Travel is far and above the best way to be educated!  But Colton, Trenton and Tyler reacted much more positively to the torture museums we found in Moscow and St. Petersburg.  Nothing like a good old fashioned horror story to get their motors going.

Here Colton, always the clown, thought the torturer reminded him of one of his teachers.  So he reluctantly offered to relinquish his gum.

The guys were equally intrigued by the Church of the Spilled Blood.  Colton and Trenton also spent time looking for ‘evidence,’ but noticed no ‘drippage’ from the buildings.   At some point in their lives they will attach their memory of St. Petersburg, to the famous people born here: writer, Dostoevski, to the composer, Tchaikovsky, to ballet dancers, Pavlova and Baryshnikov.  But for now, they are carried away by the treasures of blood and gore.  Let ’em learn at their own speed!

Dawn

“Dear Dawn:  my family and I would love to do this ‘extended’ trip thing.  But ‘you know who’ would have to carry all the luggage and supplies.  How did you do it?”

Dear you-know-who: During our pre-trip planning we drummed it into our boys they would each be responsible for their own stuff.  This is a painful lesson for kids who remember the days when tears would allow them to be scooped up into their parents’ arms and carried.  As you grow up, you realize: tears only bring rewards to actors.

Our daily city outings entailed loads of walking laced with public transportation which is economical and culturally educational. Can’t learn about a place in a taxi. We used 2 ‘day-packs’ to hold our day supplies like snacks, ponchos, sanitizer, kleenex, etc. and we’d alternate who carried them. (Colton carried Ryan’s Pokemon Backpack to “protect him.”) 

Everyone was given one roller/carry-on pack to fit their clothes-2 short, 2 pant, 4 shirts, sweater, undies- for 7 months that ‘they’ were required to carry(we navigated 20 flights) and we had a large family supply case(Ron carried).  We didn’t dress for style, but for function.  The Norwegians say:  “There is no such thing as bad weather; just bad clothing,” and we agree.  Russia required layers.  And layers!  Often we dressed for warmth with summer gear as layer number one!

Here’s the deal:  Before you leave, carry a practice backpack.  Load it up with what you need and carry it everywhere you go.  Give it a couple weeks and you will no doubt jettison the load down to exactly what is essential.

Teach your kids to stand on their own two feet.  And when it comes time to give someone else a lift, they’ll be ready!

Lighten your load!

Dawn