There is a little town in Cape, Town called Muizenberg. Its a surf town in one of the most advanced cities in Africa, but you wouldn't know it by the lack of blackberries and iPads that are noticeably missing from this little oasis.
For starters, even staying at the nicest ocean front hotel doesn't guarantee internet service, something not really included int he brochure. It may seem a little bourgeois, but when you run your own business and depend on communication, it can be daunting to realize that you're thousands of miles away from communicating with the person whose promised to employ you, provided that you can respond in a timely fashion. Its paralyzing at first. I panicked. I drove to nearby towns in a frantic search for communication to the outside world. I was missing it. For the first few days - i completely missed it. I got into a fight with the people at the internet cafe who had no idea why they didn't have internet for a few days and didn't seem to much care about my plight either. I begged, I offered all kinds of money and maybe even hinted at services rendered...desperate for a satellite signal, for some DSL, for a goddamn modem connection. Anything that would connect me back to civilization.
But eventually I discovered what Muizenberg natives already know. Mornings are made for surfing, for writing, for getting reacquainted with the people you are on the trip with. After all, this is why you're in the middle of no where right? You discover that the trail from Boyes road takes you Fish Huek and Simon's town where there are delicious crepes and the best vineyards South Africa has to offer. All of which...have wifi should you need to stay connected, but by the time I discovered this, I'd already spent time with my crazy brothers and remembered why it is that I miss them so much. Because they do things like go convince my parents to buy them "fizzy grape soda" so they can get drunk with their underage friends, and play music, and make rice crispy treats and jump on me and make fun of me. Slowly, the reasons for staying so connected, all the time, became less and less important.
The funny thing is, once I let go of the need to be connected, I found all sorts of ways to do so. The stranger at the record shop buying every old Hendrix vinyl they had whose hot spot hooked up with my iPhone, the skate boarder at the bikini shop with her 7 little skate boarder kids and her iPad connection, the random restaurants who claimed they never really had internet, all of the sudden had it, but no one was overly excited or applauding. No one cared. Not even me, to my surprise.