Small Shelly Fauna

Says a polka-dotted man with a stalk of jacaranda

I was finally getting used to Jo’Burg. Knew my way around on public transit, knew all the good local shops and eateries (some of which also serve cuisine), and I had a good routine going with the skulls. Which of course meant it was time to move on. For the past week I’ve been in Pretoria, administrative capital of the country and long-time Boer stronghold (although reflecting the shift in power, the “official” name of the city is now Tshwane). Although it’s only a half hour drive north of Johannesburg, the two cities are very different. As the college kid who was asking about pandemics the other day told me, Jo’Burg is incredibly materialistic: it’s where South Africa goes to make its money, by hook or by crook. Pretoria is, in general, slightly more relaxed, and moves at a rather less frenetic pace than its urban neighbor to the south. Not that there isn’t urban upheaval and lots of crime here, of course, and it goes without saying that I still live in fear. But it’s a more laid-back kind of fear. During my time here, I’m living inside the museum, which rocks mightily. Since I was but a babe, I have dreamed of living in a museum, and although there are some weeks when I closely approximate that activity at the Field, I usually end up going home to sleep. Not here! Here I work all day on the collections and it’s but a hop, skip, and jump to bed. Unfortunately, said bedroom isn’t all skulled-out, but you have to make do with what you’ve got.