Fear is the lock

Its nights like tonight that make me understand why SIT does what they do and why its an indescribable experience. Why we all chose to do this program and why it makes all the fear and anxiety worth it.

After leaving Langa this morning right after breakfast, and going to the Old Biscuit Mill in Woodstock- my new place I would like to die and be buried and live on forever and the happiest, most well-fed and dressed person on the planet, BECAUSE IT IS LITERALLY THE GREATEST THING SLICED BREAD, or your favorite thing of equilavancy, mine of course being maple syrup, although I do enjoy a nice sliced bread. ANYWHO! After enjoying as much food as possible and squeezing every last ounce of amazingness we could out of the market we decided to take the locals suggestions and head to Camps Bay, the beach, because it was a glorious day. Caught a cab, drove through rundown Woodstock, down the mountain til we began getting glimpses of the bluest ocean I have ever seen, sitting directly underneath Table Mountain. I’m pretty sure it was the most unreal thing I have ever seen. A giant mountain. A crystal clear ocean, with waves, a white sand beach, beautiful people, a strip of restaraunts, all set inside a cove. Either fake or the worlds best beach- no exaggeration. We dipped our feet in the freezing water, got some sundowners and caught our next cab to the barbeque Ellen had invited us to at her house in Langa. After yet another shocked face from this taxi driver about the fact that we were living in Langa, we explained to him our program, although he still didn’t really understand. People just can’t wrap their head around integration. Its kinda that plan and simple. They just don’t get how we can be living in an all black township, and immediately write it off and dangerous and not where we should be as white college-aged girls. We finally made it to Ellens around 6 and were surprised to find almost 10 other kids from the group there. It was a party! We all sat around chit chatting away and it was just so nice to all be together in a casual environment, no teachers or school or anything to get in our way. Some kids bhutis or sisis (brothers and sisters- but not necessarily related just anyone our age-ish or younger) stopped by and hung out for a bit. Eventually we ate dinner, like savages just diving in for more chicken and lining up for all the food we could get- it was a delicious barbeque. After dinner most of the guy’s bhutis had come to walk them home and get their Saturday nights rolling, while the rest of us girls stuck around to hang with Ellen’s family. Ellen’s family- how do I describe the greatness? Well to be honest, it was shockingly similar to my own family. Always hosting as many kids as can squeeze in the living room, running out to get more food when more people show up, happy to cook for 15, 20, 25. It was very special and reminded me tons of home. The rest of us left over sat outside with Ellen’s brother and his two friends and they smoked hookah and the gals had there fanta-vodkas and beers. What was so amazing to me was how incredibly normal it was. It was just the same as I would find walking into a friends house in college with new people I had never met before all shooting the shit and laughing around a fire place. They understood our humor perfectly and were able to converse just as anyone from America could. The moment I stopped focusing on the fact that we were in a township of South Africa, at a random family’s house, with 25ish year-old African guys getting us drinks, I literally felt so comfortable and was so myself it was weird. Where as 24 hours earlier, at another all black UCT party we had gone too, you could feel the uncomfortable-ness in the air.

This past weekend has really made me think about where we are, what we are seeing everyday and just observe some of the norms and daily occurrences of life here. Friday night we were so focused on going into Cape Town for an awesome, fun night- when we actually spent almost 300 rand apiece, had tons of drama, some fun, were scared shitless and had to wake my 60 year old grandma up at 1 am to let me in. Tonight we didn’t leave Langa, spent no money, had absolutely zero drama, came home in time to talk to my grandma and get a “good night my darling”, and felt so happy I could cry and had a night I will never forget. With every decision I make here, I learn something. Whether that be good or bad- its an experience and a lesson.

Of course I am aware that I am a white girl in south Africa, but I think that the more comfortable you get and the less fear I carry around, the more I can enjoy what I’m witnessing and getting to be a part of. The fear is necessary to some extent, but can also prohibit you from having an experience and a good time.