Saturday, June 2, 2012

Off to Durban for the Weekend


This past weekend we took our Bing Trip to Durban, which is the largest city in Kwazulu-Natal and it was quite an experience. Many parts of the trip were great for different reasons but the one that probably made me change my whole mindset was the homestay. The first night in Durban, we all stayed in a backpacker’s lodge, which was a lot of fun. Now, I’ve never been in a hostel before so it was a lot different for me, but that doesn’t even compare to the following night.

The Stanford program thought it’d be great for us to get a feeling for actual life in South Africa. Many of the other abroad programs have homestays where the students live with local people during their entire time away. The Cape Town program is housed altogether though so all of us live in one house. I was so excited for the homestay because I was so curious to be immersed in a new culture. We were all housed in Cato Manor, a Zulu neighborhood where the people are pretty much low-working class. The first thing we had to do was buy all of the mother’s we were living with a thank-you gift which we had to present to them when we first arrived, out of respect. Torie and I were rooming together so we decided on a beautiful tea set for the family. All of our gifts had to be within a certain budget because they wanted all of them to be practical things that the host families would be able to make use of within their means.

Then, we got a briefing from Mama Zandy who told us a few of the customs in the houses we’d be living in. The first thing was that we’d have to call each of our hostmom’s “Mama _____”. That wasn’t negotiable. Torie and I were living with Mama Lucy who lived with her 23-year old daughter, her 15-year-old granddaughter, 6-year-old grandson, and 3-year-old granddaughter. Mama Lucy, along with a few of the other hostmothers walked to our bus to get us and take us home. She was a lady of few words, who we soon realized didn’t speak English very well. We got to the house, which was small and cozy, and she showed us to our bedroom. We met the rest of the family and then awkwardly sat on the couch waiting to hear what they had in store for us. Mama Zandy had told us that the family would pretty much have us for the afternoon and night and they should all have some type of program for us so that we wouldn’t just sit in the house. But, Mama Lucy started dinner and couldn’t really communicate anything to Torie and I so we went to our bedroom to chat.

The 6-year-old grandson, Simpiwe joined us in the room and he quickly turned from the innocent kid to the demon child. As mean as that may sound, that’s honestly the nicest way I can describe him. He started out by pulling on my hair, then moved on to trying to break Torie’s suitcase, and eventually just resorted to terrorizing us anyway that he could. Torie and I were eventually screaming hoping his mom or grandmother would say something to him but that never happened. Eventually the 15 year old walked by, saw what he was doing and made him leave out of our room. But, that was shortlived. He returned about 15 minutes later to the same shenanigans. I was over it.


I know his mom and grandmother could hear what was going on because there were no ceilings in the house. Not one. Every room was basically combined because you could hear what was going on everywhere in the house. We later realized we had no electricity in our bedroom and no water during that first day there. I tried washing my hands before dinner and Mama Lucy came by and shook her head at me saying, “Tomorrow”. So, I couldn’t communicate with people, had no electricity, and no privacy. For the first time this whole trip I felt angry. Some of the other students were texting us about going out that night or how great their hostmom’s were and ours was strict and could hardly talk to us. I was finally in Africa. At dinner, it was just more awkward as I tried finishing the foods I didn’t like but wouldn’t dare consider wasting. Eventually, Parth and Keith came to the house and Mama Lucy let us go outside with them for a little bit. I don’t know what I had been expecting from my homestay but by the next morning I was glad it was ending. I had never felt so uncomfortable and out of place before. Not being able to communicate was probably the worst thing. But, even if Mama Lucy had understood English, I would not have said anything but thank you for her hospitality. She’d opened up her home for us and for that I was extremely grateful. Now I see what people mean when they say homestays can either make or break your abroad experience…

Spotlight on Me...

Thanks to the wonderful Stanford students I’ve met here in Cape Town, they passed along the tradition from Stanford SPOT trips of giving each person time to share their life story with the rest of the group. They felt it’d be a great way for all of us to get to know each other better in this short amount of time. It’s 23 of us living in 3 houses so the chance that we would have gotten around to having long, deep, one on one conversations with everyone was not very likely.  So, every Sunday and Monday evening at 10:00pm, we all gather in the living room and two or three people have the opportunity to give their spotlight…

It’s been great to learn more about the diverse group of students I get to share my abroad experience with. It’s funny how hearing someone’s story can totally change the perception you had of him or her when this trip first began. The tears, laughter, and openness have managed to bring us close together and also caused a lot of discomfort. We do have a confidentiality rule so I won’t share anyone else’s story, nor will I share my own since most of you reading my blog already know it, but I chose to include Spotlights in my blog because its changed how I view my own life.

If you had 15-30 minutes to tell someone your life story, what details would you include? Honestly, I realize that you can shape your past in any light that you choose. I’m one of those people that have never been shy about sharing the details of my life with others, especially when I think that telling it will help someone else with what they’re going through. Needless to say, I didn’t really prepare for my spotlight. I simply waited for a night where there was an opening and told my story. I was completely open about everything. I told them about my mother’s drug addiction, being separated from my 10 siblings all my life, the death of so many close family members, and recently my experience with depression. Before I knew it I had been talking for 25 minutes and I had told a pretty sad story. I had laughed and cried, experienced every emotion from joy to emptiness, and all I could think about was how difficult it had been to relive some of those moments. I don’t care how many times I share my life with others, it never makes the saddest moments any easier to talk about. It’s like I have to relive those feelings all over again, especially the pretty recent memories. Anyway, when I finally finished, I opened it up for the Q&A where people can ask me to elaborate on anything or ask about any important detail I left out. One student said, “I want to hear about the “good” things that have happened to you…”

Wow…that caught me off guard. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a happy person. Most of the time when you see me I’m smiling. Generally, I am at a very happy place in my life. I’m a fighter. I’ve learned to simply roll with the punches. I never thought that the life story I told would be a sad one. Yes, it’s been full of pain and loss but that’s not the light I want to be surrounded in. When I shared my story with my freshman dorm I started out by saying I was reluctant to do it because when I usually tell people they begin to feel sorry for me and I absolutely hate that. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve had a very good life. I’ve been blessed with opportunities that some people can only dream about and for that I’m eternally grateful. Being here in a country where most people have so little I am realizing how rich I am in earthly possessions. I am happy because I choose to be. I think about the kids at the orphanage here in South Africa that I volunteer at. Most of their parents have died or will soon die of HIV/AIDS and many simply did not want them or have the means to care for them. Now if those fifteen children can wake up everyday and still find the joy in life, there is no reason I can’t find happy moments in my own life to share with other people. Someone in my Service Learning class said that people should, “Use their agency to come out of the victim status”. This statement resonated with me so much. A very wonderful mentor of mine recently asked what I wanted my legacy to be. I pondered the question for days unable to come up with anything that seemed valuable enough to describe it. Now, I think I can finally answer that question….

I want my legacy to be that I turned my tests into my testimony. I want to be remembered as someone that always found a reason to smile, regardless of what was going on at the time. I would like to know that the people I interacted with remembered me for something good I did for them. Lastly, I want to be remembered as someone that actively worked toward improving the lives of children that are less fortunate. Not too shabby huh? I’m thinking of asking my children at Linawo Children’s Home to write down what my time there has meant for each of them. We’ll see if I’m off to a good start on that legacy…


Nightlife in Cape Town

My blog wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t touch on every important aspect of my time here in Cape Town. So, I can’t leave out what the night life here is like. We go out quite a bit, sometimes we stay around the neighborhood and just go to a bar or lounge for drinks and other times we head to the infamous Long Street which is the long block of clubs and bars that is filled with young people every weekend. My tolerance for clubs is a lot less here in South Africa since it seems like everyone smokes and doing it in public is just fine. Hair, clothes, everything will smell like cigarette smoke by the end of the night so that’s the one thing I hate about it here. 

Other than that, nightlife is pretty much a time for going out with the other students and getting to unwind with them. Most of the guys here at the clubs are sketchy and just stare at you the entire night or try and get touchy feely or my personal favorite, come up to you and say “I must take you home with me”. So, I pretty much like going out for the good company. It’s been cool learning some of the local dances and developing a liking for house music. Dancing here is so much more chill and you kind of just flow with the music. Perfect for a night where you’ve had too many drinks. ;-) This is just what I’ve been told though…


Overall, the nightlife here is cool. I’m pretty sure there are some really great places with not so creepy men but we have yet to find them. It’s just fun being in a new place where people don’t know who you are and probably won’t ever see you again so it’s quite alright to let your hair down. It’s so fun going out and hearing the American music that reminds you of home. Those are some of my favorite nights. It makes me feel less far away and more connected to this new place because we now have this thing in common. 

Robben Island & Elephant's Eye

I realize that it’s been about 4 weeks since my last blog post and when I’m only here for about 11 weeks, that’s pretty significant. A lot has happened in that time, some events more noteworthy than others, but it’s kind of hard to relive a moment that happened so long ago. Keeping a blog is so much harder than I thought. Maybe next time I’ll try and keep a journal also. That way I can write down my thoughts as they come to me, just in case I don’t have the time to blog as frequently as I like. But, I will do my best to try and relive two events that were pretty interesting and exciting in very different ways. The first was my visit to Robben Island and the second one is my hike at Silvermine.  



Many people may already be familiar with Robben Island because they know it’s the place where Nelson Mandela spent many years of his life as a political prisoner during the years of apartheid. I don’t know what I was really expecting to feel, but I did think the trip was going to evoke some type of emotion from me. Instead, it felt like just another tourist attraction. Most of our 3.5 hour tour was spent on the ferry ride to the island and the bus ride that went around to the different labor sites and other places surrounding the prison. I honestly fell asleep during part of the 45-minute bus ride.


Eventually, we reached the holding cells for the maximum-security prison and were finally able to get out and walk around. We were introduced to our tour guide who would show us around the cells who turned out to be a former political prisoner. He was an older man that had experienced life on Robben Island firsthand. Hearing about his time there made things a lot more impactful. He showed us the thin, filthy mats the prisoners had to sleep on, the identification cards they had to carry on them at all times that included every infraction they’d ever gotten, and eventually we made our way to the single cell that Nelson Mandela had occupied for about eight years. It looked just like every other prison cell I had ever seen but the sad part is the reason behind why the political prisoners were at Robben Island in the first place. These were not men who had killed people or disobeyed the law in any way; they were simply fighting for equality. They had committed crimes that the apartheid government considered to be threatening to the racial separation they had been enforcing in South Africa. Just hearing from our tour guide how they were not allowed to talk while in the labor fields and how one prisoner was in a secluded home all by himself because of how powerful his words would have been to others was heartbreaking. The white guards at Robben Island were afraid of the prisoners’ voices; scared they would use their words for positive change. They thought keeping the men in silence would prevent them from being able to organize rebellion but little did they know the peace marches happening all over South Africa were slowly but surely working to free those men on Robben Island.

All of the buses at Robben Island have quotes along the side of them. My absolute favorite one read, “The journey’s never long, when freedom’s the destination”. During the Q&A period after the tour, someone asked our guide, the former prisoner, how he managed to return to the island for work after being incarcerated and mistreated on those very grounds for so long. He started to explain to us how working there has been all a part of his healing process. We wondered how he could possibly find forgiveness. He said it was a work in progress and he was still working on that. He explained how he sometimes got tourists and visitors that would come and argue with him about everything from the living conditions to the way he was treated and he recalled literally yelling and screaming to make people realize he had lived that experience, he wasn’t just telling someone else’s or something he had read about in a history book. I can only imagine what it takes for him to walk around that island everyday and even walk past his own cell. The feelings that come along with experiences that are so painful can never be washed away and I respect each and every one of the former prisoners acting as guides today.

Silvermine Hike

That weekend I went on my first hiking excursion in Cape Town and it was at Silvermine Nature Reserve where we went to the peak, which is also called Elephant’s Eye. Our tour guide Colleen organized this lovely trip for us and it included a 3-hour hike and a braai (barbecue) that afternoon. Now we all know I’m a bit girly so hiking isn’t just something I do regularly (not to mention there isn’t really a place to hike in Chicago), but I’d definitely had it on my to do list in South Africa. The hike up was beautiful. A bit difficult at times but Torie and I encouraged each other when we felt like quitting. Going up is always the worst part but reaching the top and hearing absolute silence makes it all worth it. There is nothing quite like the serenity you feel up there. I got up there and sat on a huge rock with my legs folded. Torie asked me what I was doing and I said it just seemed like a place where I should be meditating. She laughed but I was dead serious. :)

So we hiked down about seven different levels and that was a jungle. I kept tripping over rocks and branches, almost spraining my ankle a few times. Trust me, the wilderness is not a place for clumsy people. After we made it down we went to the Tokai Forest where Colleen’s husband Robert & her friend Michael began the braai. We had salad, paninis, fish, chicken, fruit—well, the baboons stole the fruit but we started out with them. Speaking of baboons, those animals are CRAZY! They are just natural thieves. They roamed around the forest freely, hopping into garbage cans, snatching food off of the picnic tables, just too darn sneaky! We got quite a few photos with them since they wanted to get so close to our festivities. At one point I was sitting on a log all by myself looking at the alpha male, while another baboon was sneaking up behind me trying to steal the Panini sitting on the side of me. One of the other students in the group pointed and screamed so loudly that I turned and saw him and almost had a heart attack. Everyone found this hilarious but my heart was beating so fast. I literally could have reached out and touched him. Needless to say, that was quite enough nature and wildlife for me & I was ready to head back home. 

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Whose Service Is It Anyway?

So for those of you that don’t know, I chose to do the Cape Town program because not only do we study abroad, but the program also has a service-learning component, which usually becomes the focus of most of the students experience here in South Africa. Today was my first day at my placement, which is Linawo, a children’s home for orphaned youth. Before I describe the array of emotions I went through, I’ll first begin by describing our first day of Service-Learning class, which was an all day orientation last week.

Before class we were assigned a reading entitled, “Whose Volunteer Experience Is This Anyway” which basically discussed how usually when volunteers select organizations they want to do community service for, they choose things that revolve around their own interests. Often times, they have some kind of idea or vision of what their service experience should look like, and what ways they want to contribute, etc. I know I’m very guilty of this. Having been the community service chair for various student groups, I am known for doing searches for the ones that spark my interests, or will benefit the communities, which I am closely affiliated with. But, when it comes to public service, is it even about me? Why are my personal interests even involved in the matter? I haven’t quite been able to answer these questions but the end of the article put things into perspective for me and as long as I keep this in mind, I think I’ll be okay:

“The act of giving is mutually beneficial. But at the end of the day, it’s not only about me. Giving, volunteering, and the work done to support nonprofits becomes transformative when the goal is something much larger than just one person’s pride or fame or even self-actualization.
Do you have strategies for keeping your ego in check?”

Anywho, back to our service-learning orientation, my absolute favorite activity was when Janice asked us to draw a lifeline that marked at least three important ‘learnings’ that we can vividly remember which could be from learning a skill, a change in attitude, behavior or understanding, gaining knowledge of some kind, or learning the solution to a problem. The years I marked in my own life were 1994, 2003, and 2009.

In 1994, I was first separated from my mom and siblings and if it were not for that point in my life, I don’t think I would have learned the importance of being there for my siblings and being a role model for them. I knew that without mommy and daddy there I would have to find something inside of me to keep me going. I am honestly thankful for the pressure that whole ordeal added to my life.

Fast forward to 2003, which was the next major moment in my life. I labeled this event on my lifeline as a change in attitude. My daddy passed away in October and I had to learn how to let go of all of the anger I’d been harboring inside of me toward my parents. Regardless of all the things I felt they hadn’t done for me growing up, I realized the anger was only ruining my own life. It was selfish of me to continue to “punish” them by not being willing to rebuild those relationships and that was why I was left with so many feelings of guilt after my father died. Right then, my whole attitude shifted and I wanted to make sure I cherished each and every relationship I had with people because you have no idea how much time there will be to fix those very relationships later on.  

Lastly, 2009 was the final year of major events on my lifeline. This was my year of transitions. I was moving to a place of adulthood while dealing with the loss of my oldest brother. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for college while trying to prove to counselors and teachers that I could do anything I was willing to work for. I was also at a place of figuring out that it was okay to need people sometimes. I realized that I’d never really been a kid, especially not one that felt like I had somewhere to go when I had nightmares or just times when I couldn’t get certain images out of my head.  All of those things that mommy and daddy were supposed to do, I had missed out on. Even today I am still seeing the results of this. I’m just an emotional wreck at times because I’m always trying to put on a happy face for everyone around me. But deep inside there is definitely a lot of work to be done.

This activity was such an eye opener for me because it wasn’t very difficult for me to figure out the turning points in my life. I’ve been through so much but the major moments stand out so vividly. I guess on the journey of self discovery it is important for me to recognize what has shaped my identity thus far so I know what I will let shape me in the future. I must say I am proud at the growth and just the level of maturity I’ve developed over time.

It’s so crazy how seeing people in various living environments, especially those very different from your own, really opens your eyes to so many things. The extreme poverty all around me here in Cape Town has opened my eyes to how very fortunate I am. In no ways did I grow up with a lot of money or do I come from an extremely privileged family, but I now know that what I thought was economic hardship does not even compare. The things that I am able to do at home, at school, in life are unheard of to some of the communities here. My problems all seem so irrelevant when I see the conditions that people have to live in. I couldn’t imagine being in a township without electricity, or running water, or private toilets. And to think, at home I complain when our Comcast freezes up because of the rain or the Internet is out for a few hours, or when my shower water turns cool. Like seriously, who do I think I am? Going through townships like Guguletu, Nyanga, and Khayelitsha was a lot to handle. My emotions were all over the place because my eyes were being exposed to living conditions I couldn’t even imagine.  My natural response was that I just wanted to help and then feelings of hopelessness just took over and it was more like, what can I actually do to change this?

Many of the students in our group are partnered with organizations in some of these same townships for their service learning placements. I am actually in a better part of Cape Town, Pinelands, at a children’s home. The home actually used to be in a shack in Khayelitsha but with the help of donors it has moved to a much better area. Many of the kids actually come from Khayelitsha and the home has a day every year where they go and visit the shack where they were once located. Anywho, now I’m going to explain all about my first day there.

When I first arrived, I sat down with my supervisor who is also the director of the home and we went over the history of the home, what my expectations are, and she pulled out the list of names of all 15 children who live there. I will refer to them as my Linawo family, since that is what they are. Basically, I’ll be spending every Wednesday and Thursday (9-4) acting as another pair of hands in the home. Majority of the children are home-schooled so I’ll be helping their teacher during class time with lessons, grading their work, and any other way I’m needed. Afterward, they have free time so I’ll be playing with the kids (they LOVE soccer), taking them to the park, and just getting to know more about them as they get to know more about me as well. They are letting me into their lives so part of the exchange is letting them into mine as well.

The first day I worked hard to learn all of their names. They quizzed me over and over, laughing at my mispronunciations, until I finally got them. The kids all range in age from 3 to 14 years and I met everyone except the two girls in high school. They all wanted to know if I knew Sis Trinity (student from Stanford who was here last quarter) and if I had talked to her recently. They had only good things to say about her.

I started out in the classroom with the nine boys who are home-schooled. The boys are so independent and worked on their own individual assignments until their teacher or I came around to check their work or answer their questions. At break time, they zoomed off to the front yard to resume their soccer game. I went out with them to watch and was shocked to see one of the boys come walking out with a pitcher of tea. When I asked who it was for he responded, “Everybody Sis Brittani. It’s our favorite drink.” They all drank at least two cups each. I found this absolutely hilarious. I didn’t start drinking tea until I was a junior in high school, and even then I still preferred juice or pop. It was the strangest thing!

During lunchtime, the independence continued as three of the boys prepared sandwiches for everyone. Afterward they all cleaned up after themselves and one began washing dishes, which was his chore for that day. They returned to class right on time for their afternoon math lesson and at 2:00 when school ended we were back outside for more soccer. I caught a few of them in between more cups of tea to talk to them about their daily routine, what kind of things they enjoyed, and let them ask me any questions they had. They wanted to know about my ten siblings, what music I liked to listen to, and of course they wanted to know, “Did your tattoos hurt Sis Brittani?” I answered all of their questions and assured them to never be shy to ask me anything or talk to me about anything at all.

Around 2:45, once all the children were home from school, I walked with the children and two foster mothers to the park. I knew my transport would be coming in about thirty minutes so my supervisor told me to just have two of the boys walk me back since it was only a few blocks away. When I saw I had about five minutes to get back, I went to one of the boys and asked him if he could take a break from his soccer game and walk me home with another one of the boys. He looked at me with a sincere face and said, “No Sis Brittani, you can get back by yourself. You got it.” So that is exactly what I did.

In terms of my intentions within my own service context, I expressed to the director of Linawo and to some of my classmates how I just hope to be someone the children never forget. Our time here is extremely short and will be over before I know it, but I am dealing with children who have been abandoned by their own parents. I do not want to be another person who comes into their lives for a short period, forms a relationship, and then they never see me again. These concerns have led me to promise to never forget about them once this program is over. The director has agreed to let me e-mail the children or even write letters, which they would be able to read on their own. The Linawo family sees volunteers all the time. They have a number of “buddies” that come in and form temporary relationships. I’m constantly thinking of ways to leave more of a lasting impact. These children are the definition of resilient and I cannot wait to see all the things they teach me while on this journey…



Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Easter Weekend at Stinkwood Lodge


Nothing says “Welcome to Cape Town” like going on a trip to South Africa’s Garden Route during your first weekend in town. Easter is such a widely celebrated holiday here that most places are closed for the weekend, so our staff decided to organize a trip for us to have a four-day getaway while getting to know the area. So, Friday morning at 5:45 we got ready to depart for Sedgefield, which was “the accommodation” spot. Everything in quotes is simply me practicing my South African lingo. Trust, it’s a work in progress! :)

Colleen was our wonderful tour guide, Sammy was our bus driver, Shannon is Colleen’s 16-year old son who is obsessed with T-Pain, and Michael was, actually, I’m still not too sure what Michael’s job was but he came along and provided pure entertainment the entire time. We were all still adjusting to the 9-hour time difference between here and California so the bus ride there consisted of a lot of creepy sleeping pictures. As soon as we arrived, we hopped off the bus and walked down to the river for what was supposed to be a canoeing and hiking adventure. Torie and I partnered together in a canoe, secured our cameras and backpacks "rucksacks" into the buckets, and took off down the river. It was our first time in a canoe and it took us a while to get the hang of things but eventually we started getting into the flow of things and moving along. However, about halfway down the river, the wind started to take over and none of us could make it around the corner. Canoes started tipping over and being pushed to the sides of the shore while families sat along the bank enjoying the show. They tried yelling out instructions on how to make it through the wind, but no matter how hard we resisted the wind took over and sent all of our boats to the shore. So, we sat down and had a picnic with paninis and fruit that Colleen had prepared. I didn’t even care about the bugs that were flying/crawling all around me, not to mention the leaves from the trees that were falling all in our food. Anyone that knows me can tell you this was a big step. I was truly becoming at one with nature. Lol


Later that night we had a “braai” which is also a barbecue. Michael and Sammy snuck off to the pub on site and had all of us waiting around until about 10pm to eat. We had no idea where they had gone. They just started the fire, grabbed Parth, and took off into the night. After a few shots of whiskey they came back and grilled the snook (fish). They were so nonchalant about the whole thing that we couldn’t help but laugh.

The next day was our adventure day where the group split up into the Z-Crew and B-Crew. The Z-Crew went ziplining at Tsitsikamma Falls and the B-Crew went to Face Adrenalin, which is the world’s largest bungy jumping site—216 meters! I wanted no parts of that! Lol. About halfway through our ziplining it started to rain but we didn’t even notice. We were nice and soaked by the time we left but it was all worth it. The waterfalls were beautiful!




During the rest of our trip we visited Monkeyland, the Elephant Sanctuary, and an ostrich farm. Some people got frisked by the monkies, some rode elephants, and others rode ostriches. They can run about 72 km per hour, even faster! After the ostrich farm we went to the Cango Caves and literally turned into cavemen and cavewomen as we traveled through an intense adventure route with everything from tunnels to the “Devil’s Chimney” that required us to use every ounce of our bodies to make it through. I literally almost had a panic attack when my butt was stuck in this tiny tunnel (google the letterbox at Cango Caves) but Hannah and the rest of the group calmed me down and helped me maneuver my way out while I was suggesting things like telling our guide to cut the whole cave down to release me. I never would have done anything like this in a million years! I left dirty and sweating but the ostrich burgers for lunch made it all worth it.


I wish I could go into more detail about the trip but there was so much happening I couldn’t possibly capture it all. I have pictures/videos that do the weekend some justice but unfortunately uploading is not the fastest process here in Cape Town. But, Stinkwood Lodge (the accommodation for four of us) was home for many deep conversations, bottles of wine, and even some impressive dancing by Keith and Shannon. My first weekend abroad was one I’ll always remember for being the perfect escape from e-mails, showers, and inhibitions. Throughout it all, my favorite moment had to be at the braai where everyone shared what they were hoping to get out of this experience in Cape Town. All of our responses had to do with escaping from the pressures and expectations we face on campus and at home. We all just want to enjoy life and live in the moment. Something tells me I’m with the right group of students on this trip. Nothing but good times ahead... :)


Xoxo,
Britt


Excuse any typing errors! I’ve been promising these blog posts for 2 days and it’s now 1:30 am and I don’t feel like checking for grammatically correct sentences. Besides, who said my blog has to be perfect? Lol

"Do I Really Look THAT American?"


That was honestly the question of the day during my first international flight experience. My friend/roommate Torie kept making little side comments about me talking and looking very “touristy” and I honestly don’t know what it is about me that screams American. So much for blending in with the locals in South Africa…


The flights weren’t as bad as I thought they would be. We went from San Francisco to New York, which wasn’t too bad since it was an overnight flight & the movie options were great. But then, the 16 hour flight from JFK to Johannesburg was torturous. There were not enough movie options or leg space to make that bearable. But, Torie and I sat together so it wasn’t too bad. Plus, I hadn’t gotten much sleep last week (we all know I did last minute packing) so I was able to catch up a little bit.

We got to Johanessburg and went straight to the “Bureau de Change” to exchange our American dollars for Rands. My little $26.00 I had in my wallet turned into R184 and some change. The conversions were definitely in our favor :) While going through customs, the younger guy at the desk questioned us about our reasons for visiting and what we were studying and he said I looked like I was about 16 years old running away from home, he was half right. Lol

At the airport in Joburg, Torie and I met up with 4 other students in the program (Hannah, Aliza, Nayeli, & Rachel) and we all hung out/napped until our 2 hour flight to Cape Town. Jet lagged is an understatement.

Fast forward to the ride from the airport to the Stanford house in Cape Town. Not only was the weather beautiful, but the ride along the N2 freeway gave us a great view of Cape Town and Table Mountain. I just kept whispering to Torie, “Can you believe we’re in Africa right now?” That moment put everything in perspective and I realized how blessed and fortunate I am to be here and have this experience. Who cares if I look and sound American? By the end of this quarter I’ll have learned and absorbed so much it’ll be hard to tell where I come from…Lol, Maybe…