Jo'Burg travels.

In a blog I wrote after arriving in Jo'burg international airport I described my trip thus and thought I should publish it though it's a bit out of order::

In blunt defiance of dad's emphatic wish, I've come to Johannesburg for my flight home. His willingness to fly me out of Bloem or even Maseru was nice. The truth is, however, that I would rather challenge myself than just take the easy route. Honestly, I wanted to see what Jo'burg was like, how easy is was to get in and around, and know how of what I hear about Jo'burg is true.
I think that is part of my self determined to seeking of the truth in everything. I'm more stubborn in that sense than in any other. Yes, if I had seen a fire a child and was told not to touch it, I would probably still seek that first burn. Guaranteed it would be only once deliberately done.
Admittedly, the nerves were pressed thinking about a trip to Jo'burg. They are still a bit keen knowing I have a trip back to Lesotho coming my way very soon. Anxiety in my eyes seems fruitless and demeaning. The unwarranted attack I subject myself is personal slavery of which escape is one's own responsibility.
In truth, the taxi from Lesotho's boarder to Jo'burg provided the best security. Conversations with the other people riding to Jo'burg were the best way to find good people. They in-turn directed me on the right path. I can't reasonably presume why, particularly one person felt so inclined to help, but it was greatly appreciated.
**
Immediately as the taxi pulled into the fenced off rank, people began to approach like ball-bearings pulled toward a magnet. Their aggressiveness is always daunting but expected. There are always people waiting for the white guy in an all black area. I get strange looks from blacks and other whites alike who wonder what this particular guy is thinking.
The whites generally picture a risk taker who isn't thinking right putting himself in harms way. The isolation of their vehicles which they park behind tall fences at home, a place with burglar bars and double locks, all in my mind escalates a sense of insecurity. Thinking all people are out to get you except your friends, and even they've thought about it, is a fear factor.
I often picture the large black woman who once sat beside me on the Greyhound bus to Oklahoma when I think about how other black people may see me here. She sat down beside me, her size more than double mine. She was also surely a good foot taller than me. Leaning over my way, she looked at me with a frank but kind smile and direct precise tone, “And where's a little white boy like yourself going?”
At any rate, this kind and large woman was not there today as people approached the car. Most surely thought I was an excellent target, a prime fool because no one with any sense would come through the rank. At one point I did wonder where I might go. The taxi driver previously promised his help in finding a ride out to the airport. His help amounted to a pointing out the door. In the end, my car buddy was the most help. After he noticed how aggressive everybody was to “help” me, he rushed in and lead me the right direction.
There were several other people that provided their support along with his that day. They are all greatly appreciated after seeing the way people swooned. And I didn't even have to break out my ninja skills! Now for the easy part, heading back to the US.