Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I fought back tears today as I passed one of my favorite bums on the road and gave him a little wave. He cracked a large, toothless smile and said to me, "There's my wife! How are you today, beautiful?" I have been shoveling articles of clothing into plastic bags to give to people I have met here in South Africa. There is so little wealth to go around, but somehow enough good will to feed your soul forever.

I have just arrived back from Durban, a busy city situated in the Eastern Cape. It took around 2 hours and $100 US to fly there and back from Cape Town. We stayed at a very nice hostel called The Happy Hippo. You wouldn't know it from the flat white-washed exterior, but inside this place was a backpackers haven. The kitchen was enormous, there was a large space centrally for everyone to eat together and on the roof was a magnificent bar.

Unfortunately central Durban itself was not nearly as nice. The city looks as though it was abandoned in the 1970's when all the white people left and it was reclaimed by the Zulus. Large hotels turned apartment buildings in seafoam green and salmon pink crop up from the ground with gaudy neon signs and tacky bubble lettering that I'm sure looked very ritzy back in the day. The luxurious vacationers Durban is now a broken down palace, overrun by crime and poverty. uShaka marine world is perhaps the only thing keeping the economy above water- a huge aquarium and amusement park that was located right by our backpackers.

When we travelled into the interior of the city, we were struck with the concerning feeling that we were finally "in Africa." Street vendors every few feet all peddled the exact same cheap products from China or E.Coli covered fruit to passersby. Spencer, being a huge fan of Indian food, found us some delicious and inexpensive curry at a couple small mom and pop places by the Victoria Street Market, where these is a large Indian population. The markets were MUCH cheaper than Cape Town and we were able to buy lots of gifts for our families and friends; however, the amount of precaution we had to take whenever moving about the city made the trip a little tenser than we had hoped it would be given it was our post-finals victory tour. We were two White people wearing our swim suits and beach hats in a sea of Black city slickers, so naturally more attention was paid to us than I'd ever like to repeat in the future. Luckily, we managed to leave Durban unscathed. I'm definitely glad I got to see another side of this country, but I also feel the pang of regret that comes with feeling like I didn't do everything I wanted to do. I know that someday I will have to return here and make more progress on my tour of Africa.

It ends the same way it began. Its rare when the stumbles of life create poetic moments like these. I'm sitting by myself at Cocoa Wah-Wah staring out onto the hustle and bustle of daily life in Rondebosch with a small cup of coffee warming my hands. The first day I arrived here I landed in this very same spot, and consequently found myself across from the same older, stylish blonde woman who was chainsmoking with a french inhale. I see her in the very same seat today with a permanant small grey cloud passing over her upper lip, her eyes as voracious for her novel as her lungs are for another breath of smoke. Today I see her differently. The first time I met her, my eyes met hers and requested contact or explanation. Today we exchange a smile of unspoken understanding and sit silently lost in our own thoughts.

Tonight Bafana Bafana will play the United States in soccer and we have tickets to see the game a Greenpoint stadium. Two days from now I board a plane for home and the excitement of seeing my family cannot detract from the devastation I feel that I must part so soon.

So quickly places become home and your friends become your family. I will never forget you, Africa.


A

Saturday, November 6, 2010

I will never wash the dirt of Africa from my shoes

I have 13 days. Just 13 more days left of this amazing 5 month adventure. On one hand, I feel like I just touched down at CPT and on the other, I feel like I have lived here forever. The familiar pulse of Cape Town pounds with each beat of my heart. The dub-step base wafts in through my window as I fall asleep on a Friday night, contemplating it all.

So what? What have I learned? How am I different? I guess its time to try and quantify a million experiences into a new outlook on life.

I think I began to learn how to let go of control. Thematically, control has woven itself into the fabric of my life and while I think its made me successful, at some point it began to control me. I jumped from 216 meters off the highest bridge bungee in the world with nothing but a glorified rubber band around my ankles... After that, the quirky particulars of life that I had come to care about seemed so inconsequential. The efficiency that I took for granted at home I did not find here and instead I found a new patience within myself for people around me.

And in my every day interactions, I so often go running by the dunkin' donuts counter without acknowledging the person that pours my coffee. We go about our day in single-minded pursuit of finishing the day. I think for the first time in a long time, I was able to live in the moment, seeking to love every silly little minute that I was given here.

Even the minutes when I felt as though I lived in a cage. The freedom I have as a woman in the Northeast to do what I please and walk where I want does not exist here. I took it for granted and I never will again. Here I live with a quiet constant fear of being attacked by men and exploited because I belong to the "weaker" sex. But beyond myself, the women on this continent endure more than I could ever imagine... so many single mothers and many of them HIV positive trying to make it through the day. I'm lucky enough to now know what that looks like, and hopefully to find more joy in my own life just knowing how lucky I am.

Maybe its stupid to try and find something profound in these experiences, but I need to create these written memories so I can return to them when I forget what I'm passionate about or what the point is or why I get up in the morning. When I get caught up in the rat race and my life feels futile, I want to be able to look here and remember what its all about: love, overcoming fears, feeling compassion and remaining forever grateful for everything I have.

Love,


A