Sunday, December 26, 2010

By Car to Addo Elephant Park

OUR TRIP TO ADDO

Toward the end of August, the company of young and one old Canadian became restless. It was time to get out of Queenstown, hit the road in a rental car and see some wild animals. Most rental cars seem to be standard transmission, which meant that the job of driving would fall to Verna and me. We both love driving and looked forward to the interesting experience of driving on the left side of the road and sitting on the right side of the car. We'd get mixed up sometimes and head for the wrong side of the car only to find the steering wheel missing. The car we rented had the turn signal on the right side so under reflex action situations, we'd sometimes turn on the windshield wipers by accident.

Our caution on the road was heightened as we passed an overturned vehicle. Traffic accidents are rife in South Africa
and fatalities are all too common because of a combination of reckless driving habits, not enough enforcement on the road and driving under the influence.


As we drove to our destination, we passed some of the townships or "lalies" where most blacks live. Housing is of a far
different quality than where we live in Queenstown. Economic disparity is now the issue. People are not prohibited from living where they like, but few can afford the more expensive formerly all-white neighbourhoods.


















As we stopped to get gas, we were approached by a couple of minstrels. Their intent was clear. In a country where
unemployment is high people get inventive. I applauded their "do-something" spirit by gladly exchanging some cash for their serenade.



Thanks to the tour planning and organization by my companions, everything was lined up for our stay at a lodge where we had a self-catering unit big enough for us all.














A river ran through
the property and there were walking trails and canoes to use, if we had the time. We wanted to be in the park for an evening drive through to see the nocturnal animals and we also wanted a daytime tour the next day. I think we all agreed that the daytime tour was better. As you might have guessed (and I don't know why we didn't consider it), but we could hardly see a thing. Once darkness fell, it was pretty much pitch black except for whatever light there was from the sky, the headlights of the vehicle and of course the search light that we had to depend on to see whichever animals the park guide wanted to point out. Our focus was very small and the light just wasn't good enough for good pictures. We were able to see a male lion, which I think we woke up. He eventually ambled off so he could get some shuteye. The photo of a black-backed jackal that is one of the few night photos of mine that turned out.














Addo is a large facility with its own lodgings for tourists, but at a premium price beyond our
budget. The next day we saw more of the park, in addition to our daytime drive through, which yielded better photos. We discovered they had a 'blind' set up where it was possible to take photos of the animals as they came to a watering spot. We also enjoyed shopping in the gift shop and having lunch in their restaurant where I even found something to eat.


















































I'm really liking the Canon 12x zoom camera that I bought last year.


















After enjoying the magnificence of Addo we head off to a small, private game park that touted lion cub petting. They had a number of animals in pens, cages and enclosed areas to see-- not so nice for the animals, but for us a chance to actually touch a lion. As conflicted as we may have been, we paid our money and got the full experience.











































Seeing the animals of Africa is not all amazing and wondrous because just like anywhere, people will make a business of capturing wild animals for the income they can bring. Just like in North America where there used to be so many buffalo and other species that were practically hunted out of existence; Africa is plagued with the same problem. If it’s not the horn, the tusks, the skin, then it’s some other part that is fanatically valued and brings on the poachers who don’t think of the repercussions of their activity. So wherever animals are protected and not hunted, one cannot complain too much.













Our little “cabin” was on a working citrus farm it seemed. We saw banana trees on a walk around the property and two of our group took advantage of the canoes. After our experience with the animals and some enjoyment on the grounds of our abode, we headed home via Port Elizabeth – just to see a little bit of a larger city. On the way we saw people getting from here to there any way they could.


































Port Elizabeth is located on the southern coast of South Africa and boasts broad, white-sand beaches. We took in the sights, sounds and smells of the craft market that was going on as well as played in the sand and the water.


















































Having to get back to our work at Get Ahead, we turned our thoughts back to hitting the road and heading toward Queenstown which was still quite a long drive away. We stopped in, I think, Grahamstown on the way, where we found the action of a typical South African small town – dead. Fortunately there was a place to get a meal before the final leg of the journey home. And on the way another glorious South African sunset.






























Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Trip to Zambia


Friday, September 24, 2010


I’m at the airport waiting for my flight to Livingstone after having a restful night in a bed. I decided against sleeping at the airport. I knew I had about 16 hours to kill, so I was meandering towards the hotel by following the signs in the airport. I was curious how much a hotel would cost that was connected to the airport. I knew I wasn’t going to spend any money. But along the way a security guard asked me what I was looking for. When I said a cheap hotel, he said follow me. He took me to a handsome, young blonde man who said he could offer me a room for 485 Rand. He went off to get a brochure, but in the interim a black man came over with a brochure in hand. I said someone had already offered me a room at R485 and he said he could offer me something at R450. The blonde man returned and said this is just who I was looking for. I said that while he was away, the price had been reduced further. So I went off with the black man. On the way to the car I got an earful about the other guy, who apparently was trying to weasel in on the transaction and get part of the commission. Joseph, as I later learned was his name, was up in arms about how the blonde and some of the other whites working on commission tried to be sneaky, but he was having no part of it. He said he was an older experienced man and he was not South African. He said he knew how to speak up for himself and how to put the facts in front of anybody – even white people. He said he had a degree in philosophy and he was planning to get a masters, this current job was just temporary.

On the way over we had a nice chat. I learned that he was from Nigeria and Cameroon. His father had been a pilot but was now deceased as was his mother. He was the one who was taking the responsibility for looking after the younger siblings. He had originally planned on becoming a priest, but some of the unsavoury activities that happen in the holy halls caused him to rethink the whole thing. He wound up in the airforce. He stayed for awhile, but decided it wasn’t for him and he went AWOL. That’s when he fund himself in South Africa. He says that if people are AWOL over 2 years, they just write them off the books and they don’t go looking for the soldiers. In fact, if they come back, they can even re-enlist and start over. Joseph however is planning to leave Africa for either Australia or Canada with his South African girl friend who he is helping to gain in confidence and be more pro-active in creating her future.

Joseph says there is a big difference between South African blacks and Nigerians. He says Nigerians are very well educated and out of 10, 2 Nigerians are likely to hold an advanced degree and 6 will have some kind of university. This was backed up by TK at the guest house who claimed that Nigerians were especially intelligent people, even though a lot of that intelligence was being used on internet scams. (said tongue partially in cheek)

TK was from Swaziland, where he says people are still fond of the traditional ways, even though 90% are Christian. He said it is a kingdom and the king spends lots of money, though they advertise it as his personal funds through his father. He said in Swaziland there was an incredible gap between the rich and the poor, but that it wasn’t a place where you had to fear being mugged or killed as in the big cities of SA. He said the people were very friendly.

I also met a young dreadlocked, blonde Floridian who was now living in the Cayman Islands. He was a scuba instructor on holiday. He was planning to go swimming with the sharks – no cage. He had done that earlier on his trip and was now going eye to eye. In the car, on the way to the airport he told us that sharks don’t actually like human flesh and they aren’t normally aggressive toward them. People who get bitten are usually in the shallow waters where they feed and have suffered a “test” bite from the shark. Joseph and I laughed as we agreed that it certainly was not an activity we were inclined toward. So now I wait until the counter opens so I can go sign in. Which is now.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

When I arrived at the airport, I learned as I was standing in line for the visa, that I would need 50 American dollars. This was something I was not prepared for. I had Rand and my credit card. The Canadian who I was standing next to, a young guy working with a company doing righteous work in Africa, said he would hold my place in line while I found out what to do. I was told that I should go out, past the security guards to get cash from the bank just in the hallway around the corner. Surprised that I could go through with all my bags, not having gotten anything stamped and – hey Bob, so wonderful to see you, but wait I have to go back and give them 50 USD. What is this the honour system? So I spied the small office with another traveler exchanging money. I learned that I didn’t have enough Rand and he didn’t have a credit card machine, but that I could use the ATM just outside. He told me that I would need 351,000 kwatcha to equal the 50 USD. Apologizing to Bob for making him wait even longer, I head to the ATM where I take out 500,000 kwatcha. Next stop is back to the line where the friendly Canadian is holding my place – oops I forgot to exchange the money to USD. Back to the guy behind the desk…. back to the line where I am due to be next …. hand over my travel documents, hand over the money, answer a few questions and I am done. Welcome to Zambia.

Bob apologizes for not forewarning me and takes me off in his landrover-style truck with the Arts Café logo to the place that he and Marilyn have just opened. When we, arrive I see a colourful sign visible from the road, several zebra statuettes in front of a brightly painted building with lots of window space. So this was the Arts Café, a place that is a performance center, a place that showcases artisans, offers up a restaurant and a bar, and a place to meet and make friends. It is also a place of employment for close to 20 people who also have opportunities to increase their skills at many different levels as they bring in a steady income.

Bob and Marilyn are almost like parents to the young people they employ. How did that relationship happen? It’s the kind of people they are! They want to improve the lives of the people who become a part of their life so they teach them, they provide a fair wage, they encourage them for doing well and console them when misfortune strikes, they loan money, and most of all they love and respect them. It’s no wonder there is such a positive, joyful atmosphere around the Café which after only 2 months is becoming a nucleus for those proactive people who want to get something going. My head was spinning as I was introduced to the many characters who populate the Café – some were permanent staff and others are part of the community of those doing good for others, while some are making a living at tourism. It would be a busy day that day because the cast of the show Marilyn had produced was performing at one of the resorts. Bob and Marilyn built a theatre within the café, to provide a venue for the shows that Marilyn trains her talented actors, drummers, singers and dancers to perform. But this day they would be at one of the fancy resorts, providing entertainment for their guests. At the same time, the house band at the Café would be performing on the patio at the restaurant.

Being about more than the performing arts, the Café also sells the work of artisans who are provided space to produce their craft. Inside are people who work with beads, pop cans, and sisal, while at the side of the building are woodworkers making drums, marimbas and smaller handicrafts, as well as a painter and a stone carver. In this way, the artisans can get the full value of their work without having to sell it to vendors who then resell it. Outside on the patio the kitchen staff serve up traditional Zambian fare, which of course consists of a lot of meat, but also includes a number of leafy green vegetable dishes along with rice and maize which is somewhat like polenta, only without the cheese.






































That evening I accompanied Bob on a quick run to the resort where the performance group were preparing. On the way, I was surprised to see an elephant just along the side of the road. There wasn’t a fence. The elephant was not in any game reserve. In Livingstone, elephants and people share the same habitat. We were to find out later that a rogue elephant actually killed a Congolese woman and injured her child. They were in a group of people from the Congo who were trying to walk across country to get into South Africa. Unfortunately, they came upon the elephant, who was wounded and thus very aggressive. The lady couldn’t escape and after being trampled, was smashed against tree trunks and torn limb to limb. African elephants are huge, strong and fearless. In Zambia, it’s easy to spot where they have been because of the uprooted trees and damaged tree branches. Sometimes their route takes them across the road in search of water. Cars on the road tend to stop when an elephant is sighted near the road and drivers give the animal a wide berth. When we finally got home after an eventful day, I settled into my mosquito net covered bed with the bathroom en suite that contained a bathtub wide enough for two people.

Bob and Marilyn live in town. They have lived other places since they’ve been in Zambia, but they have opted for the current place which puts them an easy taxi ride to the Café and town if the other of them has the car. The property has a couple of mango trees which are full of fruit, a banana tree, a vegetable garden which they put in, and some flowers too. We go past an iron gate after opening and reattaching the padlock holding it shut. The porch has a padlocked gate that we go through in order to get to the kitchen door that is locked with a skeleton key. They use the same kind of lock in South Africa – it’s the kind of lock our grandparents would be accustomed to. All the rooms have skeleton key locks too. Zambia is also a place of much poverty where labour is cheap and opportunities though increasing, are still few. The gap between the rich and the poor, just as in South Africa, is extremely wide. Though overall the people are friendly, peaceful and gentle; there are some who in their desperation have done terrible things which warrant security measures. However, in the case of Bob and Marilyn, it is an opportunity to give someone a regular job, in fact two people. They have two young men who are hired to watch the house overnight until sunrise. Better to be safe than sorry. They also have someone to do the housekeeping, which includes the laundry, washed by hand in the bathtub. No washing machines or laundromat here! There seem to be power outages fairly frequently, but they are often during the day. A couple days after my arrival one occurred after dark and I was really glad I brought my flashlight with me. The house was as dark as a cave – no light anywhere.

Zambians do a lot of walking here, just as in South Africa. Cars are expensive and not many can afford them. There are many more taxis though, especially do the run from the outskirts of the city area to the downtown. Passengers are picked up along the way and share the cost at 2500 Kwatcha. An individual trip to somewhere other than right downtown is 10,000 Kwatcha.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

When we arrived at the Café the real drama begins. Bob and Marilyn are constantly juggling all the activities that the size and magnitude of their venture demands. They have to be sure the staff is attending to all their duties – they are after all, essentially in training. People wanting to connect because of the tourism aspect of the Arts Café are usually there, not to mention musicians who see the possibilities of another performance venue. All the little details, from advertising, to equipment, to staff not showing up for a plethora of reasons, to the collecting of and accounting for the cash that flows in and out of the place, to schmoozing with the visitors to the place. The Café is a labour of love that is all-consuming and occupies my friends from 18 to 20 hours a day – every day. Talk about commitment!

As for me, I was planning to videotape the show, Dancing Around Africa. There was a matinee show that day and in the audience were a group of children attending the show, who I think lived in Livingston. All the kids sat in the front row seats (which I was glad of) except for one kid who sat with his mom and kept twitching and restlessly moving around and getting his head in the shot. In spite of the annoyance, I enjoyed the outstanding show tremendously, with its powerful singing, foot-tapping drumming, eye-catching dancing and amusing characters.

Before the evening would be over I’d be meeting a couple of women from Singapore who were on holiday. A public health doctor and a teacher of cooks. Keeping with the friendly atmosphere of the place, I just plunked myself down and had dinner with them at their table. We enjoyed the house band as they rocked away with their Zambian reggae sound and a few Bob Marley hits. Toward the end of the evening, a few guest musicians joined the band and brought the house down. As it happened, the group had been negotiating with Bob and Marilyn earlier for a CD release party to be held at the Arts Café.

They were a popular, well-known band in Zambia who had achieved a measure of success. When they took to the stage and sang some of their well-known tunes, they had the people in the restaurant up on their feet and those who knew the lyrics, singing along. It was a wonderful evening.

Monday, September 27, 2010

The next day I accompanied Marilyn on some of her errands. We drove outside the city where I got to see the remnants of the colonial past in the posh setting of the Livingstone Golf Club. The watered grass, the beautifully arranged flower beds and the 19th century clubhouse still remained, but cub membership has dwindled from the glory days. As we carried on, I saw a bit more of the landscape and townscape as we made our way to the Linda West Basic School. I learned that Zambia essentially has two seasons – dry and rainy. The red earth is very dry and dusty right now. The rainy season won’t start for another month or so although the leaves of some plants are green, they are kind of withered. Palm trees and cacti are everywhere, but predominating are smaller thorny shrubs that can withstand the dry season. The leafy trees are mostly bare because in this part of the world September 21 is the beginning of Spring. Apparently the rainy season brings a profusion of rapid and abundant growth of vegetation which is a wonder to behold.

The school had water problems until Bob and Marilyn worked to solicit donations and contribute their own funds so that a bore hole could be drilled to cure the water shortage and enable toilets that were useable, gardens that could thrive and drinking water for all the children at the turn of a handle. They also helped to establish a library at the school that has computers the teachers can use and bookshelves full of donated books the kids can borrow.

We went to see the house where Bob and Marilyn used to live. It was more like a farm with a number of workers who tended to the animals, the crops and the household. There were also several residences on the property – complete with swimming pool – that the elderly couple who owned the place rented out. We did some shopping for groceries, too. That’s the same everywhere.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Marilyn had introduced a man at the Café who did tours in the area. Matias specialized in taking people to the traditional villages, which were close to his heart. The village he took me to is called Simonga and has a chief lady, instead of a man, which had piqued my interest. Unfortunately, she was under the weather on that day so the deputy chief did the honours of telling us about the village. I learned that Tonga is the language of the village, one of 72 in Zambia. The roles of each sex is well defined. The women are responsible for cooking, washing, taking care of the children, cutting the grass for the thatch roof and gathering a special mud that is used in construction of the huts. The men collect firewood and make the poles that are used for the mud structures and they make the showers and toilets (outhouses). When it comes to finding a mate, it is usually a love match and the man provides the dowry. The aunts are told of the intentions of the young couple and the parents are the last to know.

By this time, I was joined by a couple brought by another tour guide. They were from Bexley, Ohio where I went to University. Together we learned that the village has a bore hole that provides the water that the youngsters of the village are responsible to bring to the living area. Young girls (and I’m talking 4-year olds) are often responsible for the babies, who would be slung from a cloth tied onto them. It was a bit alarming to watch them handle the little ones – babies taking care of babies – as their heads rolled around with no support for their necks.

Hygiene is an issue because so much of the living is done outside and Zambia is an environment where the wind blows the dry, dusty earth everywhere. Health facilities are non-existent. People have knowledge of what herbs to use for certain ailments, but the more serious problems would require a drive to the hospital that serves the Livingstone area. Even the hospital, however, is poorly equipped and supplied. Malaria, diarrhea and tuberculosis are the main health problems that people face, living as close to nature as they do. Mosquito nets are provided to pregnant women and babies, otherwise people have to buy their own.

There is a school in the village, that was similar to those I’ve seen elsewhere – poorly equipped, negligible resources, barren classrooms. The students don’t know anything else, so they appreciate just being able to learn something. We concluded our tour, got into our cars and head off to town. On the way back, looking out at the scenery, I saw zebra and impala, not even in a game reserve, just living in their natural habitat.


Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Once again, due to Bob and Marilyn’s vast personal network, I was connected to a young woman, Charity, who took me to the Victoria Falls – the main tourist attraction of Livingstone. In the local language the falls are called Mosi-Oa Tunya, the smoke that thunders. During this the dry season, the falls are a different experience. It’s possible to see the gorge and the precipice over which the water falls. We even walked on the rocks that were exposed due to the lack of water flow. As we approached the falls at the beginning of the tour, who should we see but alone baboon walking on the path that we were about to cross. He looked at us, we looked at him and then he decided it was safe to go and continued his journey. What a surprise! Up close and personal with a baboon.

Charity was very knowledgeable about the falls, the history of the area, the plants, as well as the birds that were in abundance. I thought of my cousin and how she would be in seventh heaven at all the variety and accessibility of so many birds. Charity would spot something and point it out and I would try to get my camera focused in time to capture the bird before it went airborne. What a morning.
In the afternoon, I met Bob and Marilyn for a tour of the Victoria Falls Bridge that spans the Zambezi River and links Zambia with Zimbabwe. We went on a tour that included a presentation by actors in period costume whom Marilyn helped to train.
The main actor portrayed the bridge engineer, who in his role gave us some of the history of the bridge. Then we donned harnesses and took off underneath the bridge to walk across to the Zimbabwe side fastened to a rope so we couldn’t fall from the bridge. We could see the bungee jumping winch up close, (one of the tourist attractions on the bridge) though no one was jumping off the bridge at the time. On the way back to the car, another tourist group was getting the tour from an old locomotive set up in 19th century fashion. We got to take a look at one of the cars since it stopped in our path to let the tourists have a look from the bridge. On our way back to the car, a family of baboons nonchalantly crossed the road, going about their daily life, unworried about us. We departed for the arts café, but our journey was unexpectedly delayed by an elephant that, as we eventually learned, was just trying to figure out when to cross the road.

Because of the rogue elephant that had attacked some people previously, everyone was very cautious when there was a lone elephant along the side of the road. The cars backed up and waited and only a few bold ones dared to drive on past, keeping as much distance as they could. In the end, the elephant crossed the road to the river and we continued on our way.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

I went to the Linda West Basic School on this day. This is the school to which Bob and Marilyn have contributed a fair bit of time and money. They helped raise funds for a bore hole, which means the school has a supply of well water for drinking and for the garden. They also brought over books and bookshelves from Canada, as well as computers, for a rudimentary library. The school has seen a marked improvement with the help of concerned foreigners from abroad.

I stayed there for the morning and taught 3 different classes. I taught a little bit of math, dredging up my knowledge of geometry for one class. For another I tried to elicit information from them in reviewing the history they were studying. I made it a little bit political, because where they were memorizing facts about an African king from times past who had developed a system of tribute, I asked them to consider what that meant in terms of the rulers responsibility to the people and even today how the leaders have responsibility to the people. Maybe a few got the connection.

I wandered over to the library and saw a teacher playing solitaire on the computer. I asked him if he knew anything about Excel, since it is so good for calculating student marks. He said no, but he was interested, so I spent some time showing him some basic functions in Excel for him to refer to later. I head outside, afterward where a couple of girls approached me wanting their picture taken. I readily complied.

Before I left, I donated 50 or 100,000 kwatcha to the school. It was such a small amount I don’t even remember, but for them, with even a little they can do a lot.

Friday, October 1, 2010

This is the day that I was supposed to go on the Chobe River tour, but it got postponed. Instead I went into town and visited the Museum and wandered around some. The museum contains a whole wing dedicated to David Livingstone, after whom the town is named and it has a number of his original letters. He is the one whom when Henry Stanley found him in a remote location in the interior of Africa said to him “Dr. David Livingstone, I presume”.

The museum also had the usual geological, historical and cultural exhibits, done with the resources and finances available. We weren’t allowed to take photographs, but one wing was dedicated to the traditional village and it lead into another area that showed the influx of young people to the city – a living reality as the two lifestyles still exist in Africa today.

I think this is the day that I ate at a different restaurant, Olga’s. The Arts Café had several vegetarian dishes and I had consumed all of them, several times. I was ready for something new. I enjoyed a nice eggplant parmegiana before heading off to the Café to once again enjoy the performance.




Saturday, October 2, 2010


My trip to Chobe was on and I was ready for the 06:30 departure. Bob’s neighbour, Richard, a Zambian who had married an American woman who had come over to do missionary work and now was the father of 2 kids, as he hustled to make money to eventually immigrate to the US, was the organizer of this trip. He took me on the 1st leg, by taxi to the place where I would board
a boat and join 4 other tourists for the day. The dock was a busy place where trucks lined up to cross over on a ferry, tourists waited for their guides and local folk carried about their business.












We spent the first part on the Chobe River, which was simply amazing. We were inside of Chobe National Park in Zambian territory, but next to Zimbabwe who had resolved a dispute over the area.












We saw hippos, herds of elephants, crocodiles, all kinds of birds and we saw them up-close and personal. The area is a haven for all kinds of animals who drink the water, swim, bathe and live in it.













































































We had lunch at a really fancy lodge and then headed off for the drive through the Park to see what animals we might see. We saw lots. Our cameras were over-active and our jaws were agape much of the time.



































Near the end of the drive in the park, an unfortunate vehicle , a little too low slung, was stuck in the sand. Our driver tried to help, but it wasn' t any use. Let it be a lesson to you: "Don't drive personal vehicles in game preserves!" The day came to an end and I met up with Richard who, though late, met me on the other side of the river I had crossed at the beginning of the day’s adventure.












Bob and Marilyn’s friends finally arrived from their motorcycle trip through Africa. I learned that it had not been all fun and games. One person had to go home because of the severity of his injuries sustained after a fall. Other people had differing degrees of mishaps which was more
wearing on some psychologically than others as their skill was tested to the limit.












I talked to one person at the bar, a guy driving an older BMW with lots of road and off-road experience. He was a friendly guy and the next day I was in for a surprise.













Sunday, October 3, 2010


This is the day of the big party that Bob and Marilyn had been planning for. There were a few mishaps. The staff had not ordered enough supplies, even though they knew this event was happening. Bob had to go scrounging around the bars in town to get a supply a beer for his Canadian guests who like their beer. All in all, though the party was a success.












They saw the performance, they had a good meal, there was music well into the evening and there were enough drinks for all. It was in the middle of all of this that I got a ride on the bike – a trip that really completed my African adventure. I never thought I’d be on a motorcycle in Africa!













Monday, October 4, 2010

This was departure day. My flight didn’t leave until the afternoon, so Marilyn took the opportunity to take me and her other Canadian friends who were also staying at the house, to a Zambian market – one of the big ones where local people shop to get most anything. I found a piece of cloth with an African village motif, that I liked which is simply wrapped around the waist and worn like a skirt. It was an extremely hot day and we purchased drinks as we oogled our way through the market, taking in the sights and sounds.

I got back late and thankfully I had decided to have Linky pick me up. The weather was foggy, I was kind of tired and it was comforting to be with someone I knew. I returned close to 10:00 at night and was greeted at the gate by both Jess and Verna, welcoming me home. They had purchased some basic food for me to begin the next day with, since I wouldn’t have a chance to get to any stores. They were so sweet… and thoughtful. I’ve got fantastic housemates!