lessons learned in cape town

I just got home from a beautiful evening at Camp’s Bay, a picturesque area on the beach in Cape Town. I spent the ride there with my friend David. I remember the first night I met him and it made me smile as I sat next to him in the cab thinking about all the great times we have had together. David’s sense of humor and kindness are two things I really admire in him, and as we pulled up to meet the rest of our friends I laughed thinking about the first night when we met him and Kara and I decided that we needed to make a concerted effort to be his friend. I think we were successful in our efforts. Well now Kara is gone and so is half of my house, and the past day has been focused on reflection and appreciation – of people, of experience, of time, of place. I am terrible at goodbyes so I am having a hard time with all of this. My friends here make fun of me constantly about my camp references, but this feels a lot like the last night of camp extended into a weekend but it’s feeling even harder than the last night of senior Bryn Mawr year (cheers Lake of the Woods!). Who knows when or if I’ll see all of these people again – individuals who have made a lasting impact on me. I’m trying to hold onto what my dad told me earlier today: this is only the beginning of the journey.

A few weeks ago, Jenna made a list of lessons she has learned in Cape Town. I loved the idea and thought that I should compile such a list but decided to save it for the end of my time here. Well, the time is now…so here it is, my list of lessons learned in Cape Town:

1. Live
2. Make the most of every experience. When there is an opportunity to do something, do it.
3. Surround yourself with great people. Don’t waste time with people who aren’t enhancing your experience.
4. Go outside of your comfort zone. You may miss out on something really great if you let insecurities hold you back.
5. Say thank you and mean it.
6. Let go of past disappointments…recognize that you can only change and be responsible for yourself. Accept things the way they are, move on, but learn from past experiences.
7. Have grace for everyone around you. Accept that they may behave and carry themselves differently than you do. That isn’t a bad thing…In fact, usually it’s a really great thing.
8. Try and be safe most of the time but adventure is really fun and makes you feel alive. Always tell someone where you’re going, and hope that the four winds blow you safely home.
9. Listen to everyone’s story; no matter how different they may seem, deep down you have the same types of dreams and desires and you can share that. They may even inspire you to reach further.
10. Always turn a thorn into a rose. Don’t just try, do it.
11. You can learn from every person, every experience…everything.
12. Try new things always.
13. Write a lot.
14. Read a lot.
15. Hug people.
16. Be careful when crossing streets.
17. Be a good listener, offer your opinion, then recognize that everyone does things differently.
18. Celebrate differences.
19. Take walks.
20. Always bring a sweater and a water bottle.
21. Tell those you love how important they are to you and why.
22.  Live in the moment. Embrace your past, enjoy the present, and get excited for your future.
23. You learn a lot more from looking at the big picture than the small one.
24. Homework will get done, papers will get written, tests will get studied for, in the mean time, have fun.
25. Do things you love. Don’t do things that don’t make you happy.
26. Make friends who care about you and your interests.
27. Support yourself and those you love.
28. Cry when you need to cry. Appreciate and recognize that not everyday is going to be an easy one and don’t get mad at yourself for being a human. Nothing in life is easy.  
29. If you aren’t enjoying yourself, recognize that everything is temporary and take some life lesson or positive memory out of the experience.
30. Laugh at yourself. Often.
31. Be real.
32. Be good about keeping in touch, but turn your phone or computer or mind off to those not with you sometimes…BE PRESENT.
33. Be open to new types of people who may come from a totally different world than you…let people in no matter how you’ve been treated in the past. Each new soul is a gift.
34. Love yourself for all that you are because it’s a lot more enjoyable that way.
35. Appreciate where you come from, the places you’ve been, share your story, live for today, don’t worry about tomorrow…seriously enjoy all that life has to offer. 

great article

It has been a crazy week with finals and goodbyes so I haven't had time to update the blog. I just finished my exams, am officially a second semester junior, and am leaving Cape Town in four days. Hard to believe all of this.

I found a great article about thinking about and being critical of your country when you are away. Enjoy! Girl power!

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/10/opinion/kristof-girls-just-want-to-go-to-school.html?_r=2&hp

zambia, zimbabwe, botswana

When I proposed the idea of going to Victoria Falls before our exams, Arianna was totally in. My view of commitment is different than hers, so when my Nanni had already booked the tickets and Arianna decided that she didn't want to go, things were a little bit awkward…. Luckily for both of us, Arianna decided to join me in the end and we had the most incredible trip this past week. We spent five days traveling around Livingstone, Zambia and made day trips to Chobe National Park in Botswana and Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. The people in Zambia could not have been nicer. Everyone was pleasant and I think I felt safer there than I do here in Cape Town. We engaged in conversation with so many unique people, and got a sense of a different part of Africa, which has similarities to South Africa but much of the complexities of this post-apartheid nation don't exist there. They have lots of their own issues, but for the most part Zambia is known as a politically stable country, and is home to the testing of many aid projects because they people are so friendly and English is their national language. Arianna and I met Peace Corps volunteers, NGO workers, tons of men and women who have moved from remote villages to the city of Livingstone, ex-pats from all over the world, and locals who work in everything from tourism to selling eggs at markets.

We got to Livingstone on Tuesday afternoon, and as we walked off of the plane, Arianna likened the temperature outside to the feeling of blowing a hair dryer on yourself. I don't think either of us had ever experienced such intense heat. The Jollyboys Backpackers picked us up, and after checking in we spent the afternoon walking around the town. The people in the town could not have been nicer. Everyone waved and said hello, and the sights of Livingstone were fruit being sold on the side of the road, women carrying babies on their backs and goods on top of their heads. After a walk around the town looking for a converter, we made our way back to the hostel where we called it an early night.

woman who bought my shoes

The next day, we got up early for a drive to Botswana where we were going to Chobe National Park. The morning was spent getting into Botswana, a border that is made by a river that we crossed by boat. After getting through immigration in Botswana, we spent the morning on a riverboat safari on the Chobe river. All of the animals were hanging out on the river since the temperature was around 105 degrees (Fahrenheit). Chobe is home to 120,000 elephants. They are the most incredible animals and I was mesmerized by them the entire day. In the afternoon, we went on a game drive through the park. It was so hot and so dry that I found it hard to breathe. After a long drive back and another trip through the immigration offices, we made our way back to Livingstone.

Thursday was Victoria Falls day. Arianna and I got up early and met our guide at the entrance of the Zambian side of the falls. He led us on a walk through the top of the falls. This activity is only possible to do during dry season, as during the rainy season the river beds are filled with water. We got to Livingstone Island, the sight where David Livingstone saw the falls for the first time, put on our bathing suits, and went to jump into Devil's Pool. This is a small pool naturally formed at the top of the falls. After we jumped in, we hung over the edge and looked down the falls. It was UNBELIEVABLE and at one point I felt like I was going to fall over. The guide asked if we wanted to go into another pool that most tourists don't go into, but I figured we shouldn't push our luck. If most people don't go in, there was probably a reason for that. That afternoon, we rode on elephants through the Zambezi river - the river that feeds Victoria Falls. It was so lush, which was interesting given the desert that was only a few hundred meters away. Again, the elephants proved to be incredible animals. After we were done riding them, we got to feed them. Their trunks are so funny, and mine (his name was Danny) kept trying to suck up my face with it. If I could have fit Danny into my small suitcase, he would have made the trip back to Cape Town with me.

field trip i joined in zimbabwe

For dinner on Thursday night, we decided we should take a break from the grilled cheese at the Jollyboys restaurant. We went to an Indian restaurant not far from Jollyboys. After ordering the vast majority of items on the menu, we were sitting there in complete and utter bliss. It had been such an amazing, unique day. As we sat there in amazement at the fact that we were in the middle of Zambia, the only people in the restaurant, the power went out. Of course I was convinced that we were going to be killed, but a few minutes later the waiter came out with a flashlight for our table. Apparently this usually only happens on Sundays, but it is a typical occurrence in Zambia. The power outage only added to Thursday's fun.

Friday Arianna and I decided that we were going to try and see the falls from the other side, after we spent the morning in the market where I sold about $400.00 worth of clothing that I wanted to get rid of for a whopping $9.00. After this super fun experience at the market, we went down to the bridge that separates Zambia from Zimbabwe over a gorge. Once we arrived, we realized that we were unable to see the falls from the bridge. At this point, I decided that I wanted to see the falls. We needed cash in order to buy visas to cross the border so we took a cab to town where the first ATM we went to was broken. After finding a working ATM, we headed back to the border. Arianna decided that she didn't want to spend the money to cross into Zimbabwe, so I decided to go alone even though she was a little nervous about this as I did not have a phone or any means of communication. I figured that after the Spring break dance with disaster, this would be nothing in comparison. So I left the cab and headed to the border. After exiting Zambia, I walked to the other side. When I arrived at the Zimbabwe immigration post, I tried to convince them that I was only going into their country for two hours so it seemed silly that I had to pay the exorbitant fees for the visa. At some point, the male immigration officers realized that I was alone and started laughing and speaking in Shona about me. They asked me if I was nervous about being alone, to which I replied, "I wasn't…should I be?" They got a good laugh out of that, and replied, "No, no, no….Zimbabwe is safer than heaven" [insert cackles].

victoria falls

While in the rainforest, so many people asked to take pictures of me. I felt like a celebrity but couldn't understand why. After leaving the park I found Stanley again (he also owns a taxi company in Zimbabwe) and he told me that they are fascinated by white people, hence all the picture taking. Confused, Stanley took me on a quick tour of Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe (that's the name of the town on the Zimbabwe side) and then I went to an open air market with lots of African souvenirs (all of which, I am still convinced, are made in a central location in India). After spending all the money I had on me, Stanley drove me back to the border, where I became friends with a woman who I spent the rest of the ride with back to Livingstone. The most interesting lesson I learned from this interaction was how much the Zambians rip tourists off. It cost me and Arianna 50,000 Kwacha to take a taxi from the border to Livingstone. With the Zambian woman, it cost 6,000.

I arrived back at the hostel around 3:40 pm and Arianna had been really worried, as she knew I usually don't cut things that close (except for morning activities and waking up). She had been planning how she was going to find me, and was about to call the U.S. State department when I showed up dripping with sweat, hair in a rat's nest on top of my head, and lots of African booty in hand. Before I could even shower, we had to leave to go on a sunset boat cruise. Of course while we were on the boat, the first rain of the season started and the water was coming down in buckets. I just laughed, as this was, of course, our luck. When we arrived back to Jollyboys, the power had gone out (again). We spoke with Stella the concierge for almost two hours about everything from the HIV/AIDS crisis in Zambia to her boarding school upbringing. As we nodded off to sleep around 9:00 pm, we were met with the terrible surprise of the fan not working because, again, the power was out. It could not have been hotter, Arianna and I both slept naked, and I woke up periodically throughout the night trying to figure out how I could get to a place with air conditioning. Oh and to top it all off, the water wasn't working so I was unable to shower until we arrived back in Cape Town….poor Arianna who had to sleep next to me.


Saturday morning I went to walk with the lions, which was an incredible experience. They are really cool animals and it was fun watching them interact with people while still having the natural instincts of chasing after impalas. After this great activity, I went back to the hotel, met Arianna, had my 75th grilled cheese of the week, and we headed to the airport (still no shower).

We spent the rest of Saturday traveling and found ourselves in the first class lounge in the airport in Johannesburg. I had spent a good 30 minutes trying to convince them to let us on an earlier flight, but the conversation ended in me screaming "Africa is STUPID!" at the airline employee at the check-in counter. Fortunately for us, my tickets had been booked in first class, so for the last few hours of our journey, we were treated to all the amenities of the glamorous life, an adjective I didn't think I would have ever used to describe any part of this trip!

ENJOY THE PICTURES BELOW! 

'

the joy in jenna

I have spent a lot of time with my friend Jenna since we got to South Africa. I remember the first time we met. We were standing in line after getting off of the plane waiting to check in, and somehow someone knew my name. From behind me, someone called out to me and said she was told she had to meet me because her best friend from home was one of my pledge sisters from Michigan. From this first round of Jewish geography, my friendship with Jenna has only blossomed, and Jenna has become a really special person in my life.

Since arriving in Cape Town, I have come to really believe in the notion of everything happening for a reason, or as one of my closest friends at Barnard teaching me "gam zu l'tovah" (the Hebrew version, "this too for the good"). Jenna has helped me live out this message, and we have had some unbelievable times searching together for the good in every situation.

One of the more challenging of these situations was Jenna's grandmother dying a few weeks ago. Her grandmother, Beatrice (or Bea as I like to call her) sounds like she was an unbelievable woman, and Jenna has struggled in dealing with this while being so far away from home. But in keeping with our study abroad mantra of finding the good in things, Jenna has come to understand through the passing of Grandma Bea that there is true power in humanity.

Jenna and I have kept coming back to this idea over the past few weeks. She recognized that although she was so far from home, away from her typical support network, her new friends here have made a difference in shifting her focus from mourning her grandmother's death to celebrating Grandma Bea's life. She couldn't have done this alone -- she needed others (humanity) around her, hugging her, holding her hand, taking walks, discussing the past present and future, to get her to this point.

Today while driving back from Muizenberg with Jenna by my side, the mountains in front of us, and the sun beginning to set in the distance, her newest epiphany that the power of humanity is so strong became so clear. I'm only here for another few weeks, and while there are things I still want to do, I find my concentration is on the people I'm here with. While I had a great time adventuring this weekend to an amazing wine festival and market by the beach, what has become so clear is that who I'm with is what makes the experience. Yes, all of the wine we tasted was delicious and the setting was beautiful, but if I hadn't been with Meg and Loreal through this adventure, it would have been without all the laughs and special times we had. Similarly, the market today was indeed a great cultural experience, but Jenna's wit and commentary and the wonderful discussions we had were what made it so enjoyable.

In these next few weeks, I want to take these lessons Jenna has taught me by recognizing how special and individual each person I'm with is and extract the good out of every situation presented in order to make the most of this incredibly exceptional experience that seems to be slipping away too fast.

chilled vibes

I'm going to write more later tonight about this weekend's adventures and thoughts, but I thought I'd share something this morning. I found online a video of the only artist I really enjoyed listening to at Rocking the Daisies. He played on campus the day before and here is a video. As they would say in Cape Town: "chilled vibes." I'm sure you can figure out what that means. Happy Sunday!

Here is Jeremy Loops's bio: 

26 year old Jeremy Loops is a modern day one-man folk band. Born out of necessity whilst working on yachts around the World, Jeremy discovered that there's no-one better to work with than yourself.

Now as the name may suggest, Jeremy has embraced technology in all its illustrious forms and creates his finely woven tapestry of sounds using his Guitar, Ukelele, harmonica and beatbox skills. He runs this all through a gamut of loop pedals, echo and distortion units and through the speakers to leave a crowd quite literally awe-struck, standing there going..."where is this all coming from?"

And there's the buzz word - Crowd.
Whereas Jeremy still sees his project as having the right amount of "pop-sensibility" that will appeal to a mass audience from a listening point of view, he much prefers playing live. Interactivity and crowd participation are key to the creation of his multi-layered structure of beats and rhythms. Having built his career from a very early stage with rapper, Trak, the two exude a perfectly ordered mish-mash of folk, hip-hop, blue-grass funk and blues.

Not simply content with growing his own musical career, Jeremy is also quite literally growing Cape Town and South Africa, heading up the agricultural revolution that is GreenPop - An initiative which is spearheading the conscious push to plant more trees and reduce carbon emissions, amongst other noble ideals.

The crowds are swelling, the excitement is brewing as Jeremy Loops, whether he's by himself in his bedroom or on an international stage, keeps on trucking. 

some of my favorite pictures so far

If you don't know that I love taking and looking at photographs, you probably don't know me all too well. So in keeping with my new blogging tradition of posting lists of favorite things, I thought I'd post some of my favorite pictures from my experience here so far. See below for captions, photo credit, and explanations.

I am not sure who took this photo, but I know it was on my friend Emily's big, beautiful camera. This picture was taken before going out for Loreal's (the one in the dress) 21st birthday. I think I love this picture because I love everyone in it so much and feel so blessed to have been placed with them in our apartment together for the semester.

Arianna took this picture of me at the Zulu dancing fiasco outside of Durban. It was one of the most absurd situations of my whole life, and I could not stop laughing the whole time. I am pictured in a Zulu hut...and I think my sheer amusement is captured here. 

I took this picture of Loreal on a horse on her birthday. She decided that this would be a perfect way for all of us to celebrate her big day. It could not have been a more perfect day, and it was amazing seeing such a good friend totally in her element and so passionate about these animals. 

This picture is of a sign I saw in the Bo Kaap neighborhood of Cape Town. It was not there for any particular reason as far as I know, but I thought it was really interesting given the social history of 

South Africa.

I took this picture of some hippos at a watering hole on my day-long safari with hippos. I fell in love with hippos after this experience, even after learning that if you see a hippo, start praying to God because you will never out-run it. 

I took this picture of my friend Miguel when we were at Robben Island, the prison camp where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years. I love how Miguel looks so tiny compared to Cape Town in the background. I also love how you can see all of Cape Town and our beautiful Table Mountain from that view. Climbing table mountain is on the list of things to do this month.

Another picture from Laura's visit: whale-watching in Hermanus, a town about two hours away from Cape Town. Although the vomiting that was inescapable on the whale-watch was pretty vile, the beautiful whales made the whole experience worth it. I cannot believe I am from Boston and had never been on a whale-watch before this. Whales, in my opinions, are really magical creatures.

This picture is of the changing huts at Muizenberg Beach. My friends and I have taken many trips here by taking the train from the suburb that we live in (Rondebosch). Every time the changing huts make me smile. Muizenberg is known for its surfing and sharks....hence why I have yet to try surfing. 

This picture was also taken in Bo Kaap. It shows a Muslim man in front of one of the many colorfully painted houses. I love it mainly because it reminds me of how diverse South Africa is. Who knew that there would be a huge Muslim population here? These diverse communities exist right next to each other, and the nickname "Rainbow Nation" for South Africa clearly rings true 

based on the incredibly diverse population.

More pictures and the stories that go with them to come later on. Enjoy!

rocked the daisies

the main stage

I arrived home yesterday and could only explain how I felt as being hit by a bus. The past 72 hours had been long ones...I will recount the story from the very beginning.

A few months ago, Quinton, the director of our program, sent an email that included a list of dates and events that students on the program usually like to participate in. Included in that list was a music festival called Rocking the Daisies. I looked it up and it seemed really great. Only later, did I find out that it was the same weekend as Yom Kippur so I didn't think it was appropriate to go. As the weeks rolled on and the festival came closer, I was talking to other Jewish friends about their decision of whether or not to go. Most of my friends who had decided to go were planning on lying to their parents about it, and I didn't think that was right. I wasn't going because I didn't think it was right, not because of what my parents thought or expected of me. But on Thursday afternoon, I was lying in the sun listening to live music on campus and I decided I really wanted to attend. I had plans to celebrate break fast with my friends, but I felt like for me, the right decision would be to buy a ticket and go to the music festival for the weekend. 

arianna and meg setting up the tent

Within twenty minutes of making this decision, my cell phone and room keys broke. An angry sign from God? Perhaps. But my friends here convinced me it was the right decision, so I bought a ticket and began to plan for the weekend ahead. My parents, too, were ok with the choice I made. My dad had spent a good portion of his younger years festival hopping, following the Dead, and my mom just wanted to make sure I wasn't planning on fasting there as she didn't think that drinking on an empty stomach would be a good idea... I am not quite sure this would have been the response any of my other Jewish friends on the program would have received, but in keeping with my Dana and Andrews seemingly non-traditional parenting techniques, I was far from surprised.

 We left on Friday afternoon for Cloof - the wine estate where Rocking the Daisies was held. The venue was an hour and a half away in Stellenbosch (a.k.a. South African wine country). Upon arrival, we were immediately transported to hippie land. We parked the car, lugged all of our stuff to the campsite, and set up our tent. We picked a spot that was on the main path, close enough to but far enough away from the port-a-potties. Yes friends and family, I spent the entire weekend relieving myself in port-a-potties....

Shortly after setting up camp, we made friends with the people around us. Frank, our neighbor, was already on shrooms and had just walked the 40 miles from Cape Town to Cloof. He works as a professor at a university in East London, about 11 hours east of Cape Town. I think I spent a while after Frank told us this envisioning my professors at Columbia on shrooms at music festivals...but I'm pretty sure that was an impossible as my imagination could only stretch so far.

We hung out with Frank and his friends outside the tent for a while, and then left to go to the area where the music was. I spent the night with my friend Arianna. We meandered around...were offerred lots of psychedelic drugs, danced in the electronic music tent, and then found the "recharge station," which was essentially comprised of human dog beds. I fell asleep, sprawled out on the dog bed, for about a half an hour, as Arianna had a good people watching session of all the creatures existing around us. When I woke up, she suggested we go back to the tent and call it a night. I agreed, as I came to the conclusion that dubstep music should only be listened to when on drugs. I assure you no sober person enjoyed the electronic music station...I can only describe it as nails scratching a chalkboard while someone else simultaneously bangs on it. 

frank comes into our tent late at night

Although we left the music area, don't be fooled that the campsite was quiet. When Meg and Loreal returned to our four-person tent turned accommodations for five people and all their crap, we were all still up. Frank later came in, questionably not wearing any clothing, and talked to us for what felt like hours about the amazing trip he was having. He was speaking in words and sentences that made little sense. His stories included unicorns, "amazing colors," and explanations of his relatives. When he left, we all attempted to sleep but I'm pretty sure no one was successful, as we were all awake when a strange man who called himself "tall and cool" came to our tent and asked us what accent the tent was speaking at 5:15 am. 

Around 8 am, we all gave up on sleep and exited the tent, ready to rock the daisies. By 9:30, the heat was starting to become unbearable. We sought shade wherever it was available, but lying on the grass was far from comfortable because of all the burrs and thorns that called this lovely variety of African grass (do not confuse this with the copious amount of other African grass that was being smoked by the festival goers) home. There was a watering hole, also known as the dam, but the cleanliness of the dam was questionable. At one point I was so hot that I lost feeling in my arms and fingers...that was interesting.  

the dam/watering hole

According to reports, it was 32+ degrees Celsius in the shade at Cloof, which is around 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I am sure you can only imagine how it felt in the sun. If I had to describe it, it would liken it to the feeling of my skin burning itself off. It was far, far from pleasant. Meg and I fell asleep in the shade in front of the main stage, and when we woke up it was, thank God, a few degrees cooler. At this point, I was over the festivals. In my book, the daisies had been rocked. Luckily, I found my good friend Elin who is able to put a positive spin on any situation, so we spent the rest of the night talking and reflecting on the crazy experience that was the weekend.

Sunday morning I woke up to sweltering heat. The tent was beyond any heat I had ever experienced. I was ready to leave, but the rest of the crew wasn’t so I spent the morning people watching, and mainly pondering the question of why adults would bring their young children to such an event. In the few hours I spent waiting to leave Cloof, which had seemed to transform itself into the Sahara desert, I learned a lot about my friends drug experiences over the weekend. Firstly, I was then informed that the people selling drugs, “the magical orange tent,” were former Jewish Israeli citizens who have basically removed themselves from all documentation, gotten rid of their passports, and travel from festival to festival selling psychedelic drugs. I was glad to know that fellow members of the tribe were also making God proud this weekend… I was regaled with stories from my friends on acid. According to one of them, everyone around at the festival was a scary clown or rainbow human with scales.

the only shade i could find

By Sunday afternoon, Cloof wine estate had turned into a huge pile of trash and smelly port-a-potties. I could not have been more ready to leave, but during the drive home recognized that I learned a lot this weekend:

1.              Psychedelic drugs sound terrible and never do them around people you don’t like

2.              At the end of a three day festival, port-a-potties are really, really, really gross

3.              Bring a portable air-mattress when you go camping

4.              You will never want to drink alcohol in sickeningly hot weather

5.              I’m really happy my dad stopped going to festivals when he was young…anyone at such events at age 30+ is weird

Since returning, Rocking the Daisies is the talk of the town. I may not have had the greatest time, but when I came home and felt like I was hit by a bus based on the lack of sleep and dehydration, there was no denying that it was quite the experience. 

things i've loved this week

sign I saw that reminded me of my dad

1. African drumming
2. Botanical gardens
3. Horseback riding
4. Apple crisp
5. Homemade challah
6. Cider (locally brewed cider, to be precise)
7. SUNSHINE
8. Philosophy (in all its complexities)
9. Receiving thought-provoking emails from friends
10. Long, late-night talks
11. Meeting friends' parents
12. Putting my phone and computer away and focusing on the here and now
13. Defacing money with the Pledge of Allegiance (pictures of this to come)
14. Receiving this message from my dad (after reading this, you will no longer wonder where all the deep, introspective thoughts come from...thanks pops!):

"take me back to a simpler time and place. yesteryear. what you know versus the unknown. its all a gamble. what path you take versus what road should you think you should take. where you end up is not really by chance. it is a series of thoughts. not always the correct decisions, however you dont know that until you have tasted the fruit. sometimes forbidden, sometimes not. you alone can be the judge. may the four winds blow you safely home. its all about the road. hills, potholes, smooth, bumps. the sooner you figure it all out the better off you are. time isnt really real. it is what it is. what do you use as a basis for what is real? everyone hears their own tune. put in your headset and take a mental ride. digest it and really live it. you can always have time carved out. everything is right in front of you. sometimes you just dont realize it. the most important person you will meet is YOU. when you are in the middle of the lake and no one is around and you have to swim to shore, there is only one person that can get you to dry ground. look in the mirror and you will see your best friend. can you dig that?"

go celtics!

I have a huge paper due in the morning that I have hardly started but I really want to update the blog with something so here you go. This will probably be the only time I write about sports on this blog (or any future blog I have)...enjoy it.

After reading a book about Desmond Tutu, Boston Celtics coach Doc Rivers decided to incorporate the concept of Ubuntu into his coaching. The term then made it into their cheer since the 2007 season! Go C's!

with Doc over winter break last year

Here is a video and at the end of it you can hear part of the cheer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boiAuBaPBn0

Some other articles about the team and concept:
http://www.celticsblog.com/2009/11/5/1113280/new-celtics-embrace-ubuntu-early-on (my favorite)
http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/news/story?page=mag-celtics

I will update more later on this week after the school work is done. Until then, I hope you are all doing well and have a wonderful start to the week!

Lots of Boston love (YANKEES SUCK!),
Talia

shana tovah!

Shana tovah, family and friends! I hope you are all having meaningful holidays and that this time allows you to reflect on the past year and consider your hopes and desires for the coming year. Tonight my friends and I made a huge Rosh Hashanah feast at our house. There were around 20 of us and it was a great time. We shared Jewish traditions with our non-Jewish friends who came to join us. My friend Loreal made AMAZING challah again. She is really talented. No joke, she makes the best challah I have ever had. She is a legend on our program. We also made my Nanni's chicken, potatoes, cous cous, salad, apple crisp, and had lots of apples and honey. Loreal made an extra challah and hid it so we can have challah French toast for dinner tomorrow night.

It is weird that it is already Wednesday night, that it is already Rosh Hashanah, and that October is a few days away. Time has flown by and it is hard to believe that I've been here for almost three months. Each day in Cape Town is better than the one before it, and in this period of reflection during the yamim noraim (the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) I am finding a lot to think about and meditate upon. It is nice having this time carved out to do it (although I have been doing a lot of it since being here).

Today in my discussion section for my class on social justice and inequality, my TA read us the following from a paper he wrote with some classmates for his masters:

It is important to note that we must craft solutions that are relevant to our

Southern African context, which has of course been shaped by the rest of the world.

Mbigi (2007) describes four world-view paradigms and their applicability to our work.

The European North, characterised by the scientific, rational “I am because I think

I am” Cartesian world view, which helps plan ahead and vision the future.

The Eastern Asian, characterised by the “I am because I improve” towards

spiritual perfection, which pushes every individual towards consistently innovating better

solutions.

The Western American, characterised by “I am because I, the individual hero,

dream and do”, which turns personal vision, dreams and courage into enterprise.

The African, characterised by ubuntu - “I am because we are; I can only be a

person through others”, which contributes a completely different way of doing business.

Ubuntu philosophy and practice is about listening to, empathising with and persuading

the other, all to serve the needs of the community. Individual goals become automatically

achieved. In an age of interconnectedness, in the words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu,

ubuntu will be “the gift that Africa is going to give the world” (Mbigi, 2007: 297).

I thought this was so beautiful that I asked him to send me the article after class. In thinking about it now, I realize that so much of my experience here has been about ubuntu. From making the meal tonight - each one of us putting forth our strengths in order to create a delicious event to share together - to getting ready to go out to helping each other through the homesickness...it is all about serving the needs of the community. My community here is such a special one, and sitting down to break bread tonight (Loreal's delicious challah - the best bread ever) only affirmed how Africa is giving us the gift of understanding the interconnectedness of us all.

To a sweet new year filled with lots of love, happiness, excitement, and growth...shana tovah!

Talia

looking inward

Once a week I volunteer at a private school about 15 minutes away from where I live in Cape Town. The school is entirely black, almost 70% of them only have one parent, and many of them are HIV positive. Each Tuesday morning, I go to the school with my friend Jenna and sit in on their "Life Orientation" class. Life orientation essentially is an open space where the students can talk about anything they want: problems with each other, problems with their teachers, and (what I found out this past week to be the most important of all) problems with themselves. There is always at least one teacher or faculty person in the room, and it is shocking to see how open the students are in front of their teachers. They will talk about anything from problems with classmates making fun of them to instances of being raped, held at knife-point, or their experiences with drugs.  For the past five weeks, I have sat in on two different classes once a week and observed, saying little but taking in a lot - shocked at how unbelievably candid the students are.

Then two weeks ago I became really uncomfortable. Two teachers who usually don't sit in on these L.O. (this is what they call the Life Orientation class) classes were there, and I felt that they were pushing the students too much, accusing them of things they weren't doing. Jenna and I sat there occasionally making eye contact exemplifying our severe discomfort in the situation, and I was counting down the seconds until the sessions were over. Later that night I emailed Nigel, the head of this program (he is American), expressing my concerns with the program and explaining that I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue to volunteer at the LEAP School. Nigel promptly responded suggesting that we meet on Tuesday morning at the usual time we come in. I was apprehensive, as I didn't foresee this being an easy conversation.

Jenna and I sat with Nigel for nearly an hour discussing the program. We told him our concerns, and after some disagreements he said to me, "Ok, Talia, now where are you at?" To this I responded by telling him how I felt about the program, to which he responded, "Ok...but where are you at?" This back and forth went on for a few more rounds until Nigel challenged me, just as he does with the kids, to look inward and try to express why I was having such a hard time dealing with all of this openness and confrontation. Nigel, in essence, could see right through me - something which, at this moment I realized, I have been trying to block people from doing for quite a while.

While I may not have shared with Nigel where I was at, he was definitely a big part of the reason I have been doing so much introspection this week. When he kept trying to get me to recognize where I was at, he explained to me that the L.O. circle is a place that brings out a lot of feelings, mainly having to do with ourselves. Nigel was definitely right, and induced in me a week of hardcore feelings and recognition of where I am at.

Those who know me are quite familiar with the fact that this past year and a half has not been an easy one for me. It was one of many transitions and change, and deciding to come to Cape Town this semester did not make things any easier on the settling-down-in-one-place-with-few-challenges front. But after my conversation with Nigel last week, my subsequent time sitting in on another L.O. session, and a lot of discussion with friends, I am finally feeling settled - even being thousands of miles from anything I really know. After understanding that the South African way is one of dealing with emotions, feelings, and opinions, I was able to appreciate the kids' participation and left LEAP that day wishing people in my life were more like that. If 9th graders who had a life tougher than anything I could ever imagine could be so unabashedly open, why couldn't I?

In our discussion, Nigel accused me of being dishonest, a comment to which I took huge offense and Jenna even agreed that I am one of the most honest people out there. But after reflecting on all of this (the conversation with Nigel, my experience at LEAP, my time in South Africa, the past year), I realized that I may be open with others but I haven't been so honest with me. This epiphany forced me to look inside myself and figure out why it was so hard for me to be honest with me? The block I had been putting up between me and others in order to protect myself was apparently manifesting in a break in the lines of communication with myself.

So that's what this week has been all about: communicating with me and being unapologetically real with me.  I am so lucky and blessed to have the strongest support network possible, as well as a serious desire to figure all o this out. No matter how much love I am showered with, none of this has been easy at all. Yet, I've recognized that Cape Town and all of the challenges that have come with it were exactly what I needed in order to start over this relationship with myself, and I couldn't be more grateful to be here, with all of the amazing people surrounding me, cheering me on, doing it.

the rest of the story

When I last left you, we were getting the hell out of Durban. Since we didn’t have a good map, we rolled down the window and asked a man how to get to the N2, the road Deano (the Avis manager) has told us to take all the way back to Cape Town. This man told us to follow him to the N2, and upon arrival at the tolls he told us to take this all the way to Cape Town….the entire way on this road. Since it is the largest road/highway in South Africa, I assumed it would be well paved the entire way. Boy, was I wrong.

Our hopes for the first night were to end up at Coffee Bay, a location that everyone says is the most magical place in South Africa. Seven hours later, Coffee Bay (a destination that we were told was five hours from Durban) was nowhere in sight. It was dark and the N2 highway had morphed into the N2 road with lots of potholes and occasional stretches of dirt road. I was still driving the car and was getting sort of nervous since it was past midnight and we were lost in Africa. The only directions we had were via email from my sister who had sent me Google-map directions to my Blackberry. As the battery in my blackberry depleted, so too did the visibility on the road. From about 12 a.m. to 1:30 a.m., we were driving through heavy, heavy fog. Liz described it perfectly as “marshmallow-fluff-thick,” and I wasn’t able to see more than four feet in front of the car. Only in the morning did we realize we weren’t driving through fog, rather we were driving through clouds. I tried to keep my cool, but on the inside my anxiety regarding my life (as well as my three passengers’) was mounting. As usual, I could hear my dad screaming in my ear…huffing and puffing that I was an idiot to get myself into such a situation. Then faux mom on my other shoulder was telling me to calm down, that it was an adventure…what’s the worst that could happen???

Well the worst appeared right before me when we were on a road off the N2 attempting to find Coffee Bay at 2 a.m…The road before us was blocked off and there were three African men lying down around a fire. As I saw my life flash before my eyes, my cat-like reflexes went into high gear and I turned the car around. While doing this, a man ran up to the car and told us that we were going to need to wait a few minutes as they were doing roadwork on one side of the road so cars could only flow in one direction at a time. My heart beat finally slowed down, but at this point I knew it was time to find someplace to stay for the night.

Dispatch lyrics stuck in my head
throughout the trip (Elias)

We kept driving down this road and finally happened upon a town called Port St. Johns. There were “resorts” all over the side of the road, but my passengers insisted we keep driving. A few minutes later, we happened upon a town I can only describe as looking like it had been bombed. There were men sleeping on both sides of the road, countless stray dogs, fires, and trash strewn all about. Liz suggested we keep driving, Arianna was sure we would find Coffee Bay, and I insisted we find somewhere to spend the night. We went back to the stretch of road with all the resorts, and luckily found The Spotted Grunter Resort, which opened its gate for us. When we entered the property, the security guard was holding a huge gun, which we only later found out was a paint ball gun. Finally, one of the women in charge of the lodge came out and gave us a room. It was now around 3 a.m., and we finally retired to our room.

Port St. John 

In the morning when we woke up, we realized that Port St. John was beautiful. The property and water on which is sat looked somewhat like Costa Rica. The woman at the desk asked us about our journey and explained where we were. They couldn’t believe it took us nine hours to get there from Durban, and explained to us that Coffee Bay was still four hours away. Even though it wouldn’t make sense to spend the next night there, we were determined to find it and check it out.

As Liz explained in her blog, “The Wild Coast is a chunk of South African coastline that you can trace, sort of, by car by driving along the "N2." However, the N2, in the Wild Coast region, is not actually that near to the shoreline. So, to find the remote coastal towns referenced in travel guides, one must venture off the N2 on long, winding, pot-holed roads. On Wednesday night, we had chosen the wrong long, winding, pot-holed road, and so we were over 2 hours away from the N2... and even farther removed from where we wanted to be.”

Arianna and I at Coffee Bay

We got back on the N2 and headed towards Coffee Bay. Five hours later we found it. There were no gas stations or civilization besides the turquoise huts that were scattered all along the side of the road. We finally got to Coffee Bay, which I can only describe as a hippie town randomly situated on a beautiful bay. Coffee Bay, to me, was not all it was cracked up to be, but I was glad we made it there. Some interesting anecdotes from Coffee Bay include being offered hashish from a random man who sits along the bay. I also ended up buying 200 rand worth of beads from these cute women who sit in the same spot and sell necklaces and bracelets off of trees.

me with hippie fence in Coffee Bay

We left Coffee Bay around 3:30 p.m. and began the trek to Chintsa. Our only stop on the way was at a gas station. I was pretty sure that in using the toilet there I contracted a lot of diseases, and I was happy to get out of the convenience store with all of my belongings. In our many stops at gas stations along the Wild Coast, we saw no other white people. It is strange being the minority and standing out, a situation that is so different from home.

After trekking down a long dirt road to get to the Buccaneers Backpacker Village in Chintsa, it became clear that the VW Polo was not suitable for off-roading. We checked in, went to the bar for some drinks, and spend the night in a two-bedroom bungalow adorned with drapes picturing Nelson Mandela. It was this night that I began to question my ability to sleep in moldy backpacker lodges, mainly because my allergies were getting increasingly more angry at me. Yet, when we woke up in the morning the night of sneezing and sniffling was worth it as Chintsa was the most beautiful place I had ever been.

me and one of the
Coffee Bay bead ladies

the lagoon in Chintsa

me on the beach in Chintsa

Liz and Arianna decided to kayak across the lagoon, and it was shallow enough for me to walk across. We got to the ocean and right behind us was an African drum circle. As I sat on the beach, taking in my surroundings and dipping my toes in the Indian Ocean for the first time, I realized that this was why I decided to come to South Africa in the first place: adventure. The sun beat on my face and Arianna and I danced to the drums while Liz went back to fetch Annie. I will never forget this morning in Chintsa, as it was probably one of the most pure, blissful moments of my life and I was lucky to share it with such a great friend.

on the porch of the bungalow

We left Chintsa that afternoon and arrived in Plettenburg, a seven hour drive away. When we got out of the car I was sore and ready to be done driving. Plettenburg is along the Garden Route, not the Wild Coast, and is the drive most people do from Cape Town. While it is no doubt beautiful, it was not comparable to the inexplicable beauty and calm that was the Wild Coast – all the roads were paved and there were gas stations, grocery stores, and shops everywhere. We had dinner at a nice restaurant, and I turned in super early that night.

arrived alive in Cape Town!

We woke up the next day, I did some serious damage at a jewelry store, and then got back in the car to make the final leg of the journey back to Cape Town. Annie drove, getting us back in five hours (it should have taken seven), and when we arrived at Avis, they couldn’t believe we had just made it back from Durban. In 70 hours, we spent 30 and a half driving. We ate our weight in Cadbury chocolate, apples, potato chips, and wine gums, and I can’t speak for the rest of the group but I know I learned an invaluable lesson: just get up and go and see where the adventure will take you. The three days spent traveling in a tiny car across South Africa made me feel alive in a way that I never had before, and as difficult, scary, and different as it may have been, it affirmed for me that I made the right choice in leaving home for the other side of the world this semester.