Hallo crew! I'm back on the blogging train, though I don't know how often I'll actually write, but for those times I want to write, it will be here. :) Like the title? I stole it from the great hashi ashi. This will be a short blog, because I'm at work, and am about to spend the day punching holes in 10,000 pieces of paper, so I must get on with it!

Today’s been one of those days… One of those days filled with small surprises of fun, new routines of enjoyment, and coincidences that bring a smile and a feeling of gladness to be at UCT. Today’s been one of those days that renews those cliché, but true lines that proclaim we must find balance in our lives. I found balance, I found people, and I neglected to start writing a paper. I am happy now, but give me 5 days (the day before it’s due) and we’ll see how I feel then. (Note to reader: I am in no way condoning this “find your balance” type of behavior, and encourage everyone who reads this to get an early start to their homework, but to enjoy the amazing opportunities around.)

So as you can see I attempted to start writing a blog entry a month ago, but didn’t get especially far. I actually wrote this blog in three sessions. Life here is SO FULL that while I’m having those loads of fun, I am neglecting my duties as a writer. It’s only recently that I’ve been running into serious problems…wondering how the amount of happiness is actually legal! I’m not questioning the legality of the fun things I’m doing because they’re all very B-like, but questioning the legality of HOW MUCH fun I’m having. As one can deduce from the above message, even when I have an assignment due, I am able to “find my balance,” but now take that understanding to the next level to realize the current situation I find myself in: NO MORE HOMEWORK. I handed in my last assignment on Friday and have been smiling ever since…the kind of smile that is especially hard to wipe off ones face. Every SMS I receive makes me smile, every person I see on campus makes me smile, every random lunchtime entertainment on campus makes me smile. Frankly, I think it’s out of control. I have been incredibly blessed in all my experiences since stepping foot off the plane that fateful day in July. Let me fill you in on some of the recent highlights:

First and foremost, my joys have come through my amazing African dance class. Not only did I get to meet some AMAZING peeps, but I also learned some dances that can always get me movin’, have gained a whole new respect for drumming, and have been able to perform at 3 different events: in church, at a semi-formal, and in a really big cultural show! I guess I can’t say, “I don’t dance” anymore, which has always been my line. I just need to work a bit on the moves one has to make up on the spot in club-type places. Unfortunately since I don’t go out to clubs much and without my Jamaican buddies around, I’ve become rusty. Eh, everything comes in its own time.

Secondly, I had the exciting opportunity to meet up with yet another person from Macalester–Jessica Masterson! Not only did I get to be her beloved orientation leader for her first week at Macalester, I also got to give her a mini-orientation of UCT’s shuttle system and a bit of campus while here. How cool is that! She came on a multicultural program through SIT and is having an amazing experience. I was seriously debating between that program and the direct enrollment, which is what I ultimately decided on. Although their experiences sound incredible, direct enrollment was definitely what I needed to top off my fifth year of college to 1) teach me to cook and 2) show to myself that I can deal well with independence and make the most of every situation, making it or allowing it to be just as it comes. Yo, I can’t wait to know what the rest of my life holds for me.
Thirdly, as much as the University of Cape Town has its issues, it also has crazy cool stuff that I never imagined when thinking of any university. What I am most specifically referring to is the amazingly fresh, fun, and in fact fabulous promotions that go on nearly every Thursday over the lunch period from 1-2. If a person happens to forget about it, as I have in the past, they are sure to hear the excitement from anywhere on campus. There’s nothing like club dance music blaring into ones ears causing them to start moving their head and shoulders as they sit in the African Studies Library reading an article about coloured identity in South Africa. Although this is a hypothetical example, it could happen J. If that “one” then decides to give up their ever-so-precious place on a chair of the much-too-small-for-22,000-people library, they are not to be disappointed as they are greeted by free stuff (Hugo Boss perfume, Sprite, T-shirts, etc), and free entertainment. The two best acts so far have been the B-boyz (breakdancing boyz) and a kid called Cyber who did the BEST beatboxing I have ever heard in my life. He had more sounds coming out of his mouth at one time than I have shoes. YO! It was unbelievable. Mostly I, or the one who decides to leave the library, sit there in awe behind the camera thinking about how fun it will be to recap that stuff later! Wow!

Fourthly, this was an aforementioned issue, but I feel it absolutely necessary to put this library situation into perspective. There are 22,000 students at UCT and 1 really nice computer lab (called Knowledge Commons) seating probably a bit over 100, which is .00005% of the student body. (There are other labs but not so nice and not centrally located). It is also the only lab I know of in the library that can print papers. So it was on that fateful date my final psychology paper was due that I pulled my body up to the library at 7:17am only to find it closed until 8. Then at the crack of 8 the doors opened and that lab filled up faster than it takes to kill a roach scurrying across the stovetop. Luckily I got one of the first seats and worked productively until my class was about to start. As I left, walking past the hour-loooooong line, I realized this paper was going to be late, on top of my already common “Jamaican” time scheme, on which I run. It did get in though, and came back with a much more astounding grade than I could have hoped for.

Fifthly, life has just been overall too good for me here from going to a formal with my dance crew, to a beach braai (the word for barbeque here), to a comedy show, going to free theatre productions, and pretty much getting way too close to people that I am going to have to say goodbye to very soon. Recapping those individually, I got to go with one of the res halls for their formal in Mount Nelson, one of the nicest hotels in the city, and two hours before it all began, I was just finding an outfit, but it was wonderful. The beach braai was a huge event with probably around 1,000 students staying in various res halls who all got bussed to a beach up the coast to eat, dance, and enjoy the day. I got killer sunburnt, unfortunately, but it was a fun day.

Sixthly, about a month ago, I had the incredible opportunity to go to a drum show at the Castle in town during cultural heritage week, a show equivalent to US$30 that I got in for FREE because a few of my friends were performing in it and they hooked me and some friends up. It was an absolutely amazing show, full of energy, life, passion, and talent. These are the things I’ve become so used to that I’m going to miss the most–a constant energy flow in everything around me, especially in regards to the presence of drumming, and especially the drummers I have had the opportunity to meet here. They’ve let me into their world and graced me with their spirits.

Anyway, I’m off to Zimbabwe in two hours for about a week, so in the meantime, keep it real!

Shame, guilt, avoidance... Every day the thought of updating my blog comes to mind, it’s the same thing…same, guilt, and ironically avoidance. Such is the life of a student blogger. The more 10:37s that pass, the more I put off “getting up-to-date” with my blog, because with each amazing event I experience (which is almost daily, sometimes up to four or even seven times daily) I feel that to give it proper respect I need time, and time is something that is often not readily available in any large chunks …large enough anyway that I can clear my thoughts, write a few things, and slink down to the refrigerator for a chocolate chunk to rejuvenate my energy. Looking back you can see it has been nearly 1 whole month since I have written. To get the dreaded feelings of shame, guilt, and avoidance off my shoulder, I am going to give you a partial list of some of the things that have occurred in the last month. Although the list may seem long, be keenly aware that behind each bullet is a whole narrative I could tell you, but for sanities sake am keeping it brief (for both mine and YOUR sanity).

During the last month I have... (in no particular order)
• Seen cheetahs, elephants, giraffes, and warthogs in the same game park President Clinton visited when he was in Botswana

• Smiled upon opening the mailbox, receiving two personal letters on the same day, including a cute origami, which I have stuck up on my not-as-bare wall

• Turned in two paper assignments, bringing my coursework completion for both those classes up to 50%

• Started my volunteering post at a children’s home playing with kids age 0-5 dubbing as a mannequin head for one of the kids fascinated with my hair, and transforming my legs into a bus for the kids to travel around South Africa

• Saw a sign proclaiming “The Cradle of Humanity” staring out the bus window on my calm and reflexive journey to Botswana

• Met a macload of people connected in some way to Macalester—alumni, friends’ families, alumni’s families…you name it. It was awesome, but horribly confusing to have to try to explain to people the connections in a way that was clear and did not seem dodgy

o Mandla Mehlomakulu and family, ’98 (See Macalester Today, May 2000 pg 25)- Mandla is one of those classic Macalester grads that make you proud to be a Macalester student. He has a wonderful family (wife Boni, niece Ndu-12, and daughter Lethu-4) and is making a difference in the South African environmental scene.

o Collin Mothupi’s brother and family, ’00- While Collin finds success in Mpls, Lucas does the same in Jo'burg starting his own IT company, with the help of his wife Amina. The whole evening the kids (Maggie aka Pookie-5, Collin aka Nana-2) kept me entertained with their dancing, strumming of the very broken guitar, and searching for Eeyore’s tail on the computer.

o Jerry Darko-Appianti’s family, ’05- After meeting Jerry’s family, it becomes immediately evident that he is indeed part of that family. His little brother Chris looks and sounds VERY much like him, his dad dances (to Bob Marley in the restaurant-perhaps a bit different than Jerry would do it), and his mom smiles that same genuine smile one can find on Jerry. Since they’re Ghanaian, I got to experience the taste of delicious fufu that I never got to try while I was in Ghana. Also, anyone seen pictures of Jerry in nappies?

o Khiza Mazwi’s parents, ’05- I didn’t even know Khiza’s family was in Botz; I was still thinking they were in Zimbabwe, but apparently not. And due to the fact that Gabz is so small (250,000) I coincidentally and luckily found out they were there and got to meet them my last day of the trip. Yes, I also got to see baby pictures and pictures of the other brothers for all you knowing readers out there.

o Katlo Manthe’s parents, ’08- The laugh will give it away immediately that Katlo is the daughter of her mother…no questions. With Katlo’s parents I
got the full Tswana experience, being fed traditionally cooked meat, as well as Botswana beef (my first steak ever), and being taken on a game drive, not to mention getting to see Katlo’s unfinished room in the new house they’re building even before she got to see it! The next time I meet up with them, they’re taking me to the cattle post.
Unforgettable and AMAZING TIMES meeting them all!!!!

• Actually started to see people I know around campus, including having a little “posse” in some classes

• Crossed the Tropic of Capricorn on my way to and fro Mahalapye going to a teacher workshop in Botz

• Pulled an all-nighter in preparation for having to say goodbye to Mona, one of my two awesome flatmates, as she made her way back to Canada

• Slightly modified my daily routine, finding a permanent home in the African Studies Library, complete with information and internet access

• Uploaded some of my pictures on the blog as well as on another site http://yahoo.photos.com/blynk_183. Y’all must check it out at some point. The pictures currently loaded are from the first few months of my time in SA

• Experienced Women’s Day, a South African holiday honoring women’s contributions to the world, something that should be instituted worldwide

• Discovered a Chinese place on campus that sells delicious “smaw chickih noodoh” that I have to resist often or I would eat it every day. Note to reader: the smaw and lawj sizes are actually the same, so to save R4, order the smaw

• Invited my first friends over to the house

• Attended a cultural show in one of the residence halls with some AMAZING Tswana dancers…in skins


• Jumped off and played in a sand dune located oddly in the middle of a mountain in Noordhoek, as well as making a sand angel…gosh I miss Minnesota…and snow (but only a bit)

• Visited Khayelitsha, one of the big predominantly Xhosa townships for the weekend with a friend, dancing in church with her one of the routines from our African dance class. We tore up the place

• Saw the most humongous anthill of my life…bigger than me!

• Went to a driving range where I was laughed at (lovingly) by a 10-year-old as I swung and missed the little golf ball, over and over again

• Flew above the world from Cape Town to Johannesburg, watching the land change and becoming mesmerized by the polka dots on the land

• Heard Apartheid weirdly justified in clips in the Apartheid Museum

• Laughed a great deal as a 4-year-old grinned and sang, “I like to move it, move it. I like to…MOVE IT!”

• Saw unprecedented numbers of Mercedes’s and BMWs driving around, finding their ways to the most extravagant houses, similar to or surpassing the enormity of Summit Avenue houses in St. Paul, MN

• Borrowed an address from an Indian man claiming I was going to Mr. Khareem’s place, P.O. Box 1505, Gabarone, Botswana. (Always remember to get an address for someone before crossing a national border)

• Spent “Spring Break” in Jo’burg and Botswana, having an absolutely wonderful time and meeting huge numbers of stellar folks, adding so much to my life and experiences, all for under US$250- flying from Cape Town to Jo’burg for $190, and bussing from Jo’burg to Gabarone for $15!

• Stayed with awesome Persian families in Gabz, the uncles and aunts and cousins of a University of Cape Town friend and displayed my braiding skills by playing with the girls’ hairs!

• Heard prayers in 5 different languages at a devotional

• Walked through the dry bush of Botswana, which is nearly the whole of the area around Gabz. Gabz is undergoing constant development, but there is a serious shortage of water, with the reservoir at 20% when it should be at 90%. Everyone is praying for rain this season

• Had to run for my first plane ever in order to get back from Jozi to Cape Town

• Continued to meet up with Macalester friends’ UCT friends around campus

• Had a taco lunch with a bunch of Americans so a South African who had never experienced such a delicacy could try them…he liked ’em!

• Got my first blister on the bottom of my big toe from too much African dance

• ENJOYED nearly EVERY MOMENT OF MY TIME HERE!

So there you have it folks…a little about what I’ve been doing and what I’ve been living. For all you Macalester students out there, I hope you’re enjoying being back to school! Make some noise in that joint in honor of me.

Have you ever glanced down at your fingernails and noticed that they are oddly blue? Most commonly this would occur in colder climates—places such as Minnesota in the winter, but it can even happen here…in AFRICA. Whatever perceptions anybody from America could have of Africa, Cape Town will without a doubt quickly eradicate from your mind. No one walks around in bright colored clothing, except for the in-fashion girls wearing striped plastic rainboots or pink suede Eskimo boots. There are no elephants or lions roaming around, although I have caught sight of a few monkeys…nowhere near as many as in Matheran, India though. And it is COLD! I have been trying to tough out winter with happier thoughts of spring and live without a coat, but some days are challenging. At night I sleep under three blankets, and two are doubled over. My toenails are not yet blue, thanks to the bright green socks I got from South African Airlines on my way here, but they’re getting there. Maybe South Africa is called the rainbow nation not because of the range and diversity of skin tones, but rather because of the amazing amount of colors white skin can turn over the seasons. Doubtful, but nonetheless it’s been a cold day and catching a glimpse of my fingernails sparked me to write a blog.


So while I’m at it, let me tell you all a little bit about how the University of Cape Town is set up so you can gather an appreciation of the adventure I embark on every day as I dutifully and excitedly make my way up the mountain to attend lectures. UCT is located on the slopes of Devil’s Peak mountain. The campus spans from about 300 feet, or approximately a football field’s length, west of where I stay and continues on directly up the mountain for about a mile. There is a lower, middle, and upper campus, but it is upper campus, at the VERY TOP, where almost everyone’s lectures take place. So every morning I wake up around 8:27, have a breakfast and begin my hike. To break up the walk I stop at middle campus to use the international center’s computers to fill my daily email needs, and then 7 minutes before class I rush up the rest of the way to my psychology lecture, which is always and without fail amazingly interesting. All 311 steps to get there are worth it. It would be great for Macalester to get a critical psychology course that could deconstruct mainstream psychology and pull out the more marginalized voices and views and see that psychological studies, findings, and theories really only, or mainly, apply to white men in the Western world. It’s a fascinating class to take here and ties all my interests in very well. This is oftentimes my only lecture of the day on upper campus so I then go to the library and try to navigate books and extract information from them, and if I happen to check them out for that necessary purpose of writing a paper, I will next time remember that check out time for books here is only a week before fines begin building up. No warning. Nothing. And I will also remember that as an undergraduate student, I may only check out 6 books at any given time, but of course that also is contingent upon me not having late charges. :) Ah, the life of a foreign exchange student…forever trying to figure out the system in which they find themselves. And after telling you all this, I have to say that I, as a foreign exchange student in Cape Town, have it superfluously easy. That has been one of the only downfalls I have identified in making the choice to come here. It is a very specific experience of “Africa,” where the living is easy and very cosmopolitan. It’s nice, but I definitely hope to get out more. P.S. for a beautiful view of upper campus, go to www.uct.ac.za.


Before I end I want to send out a special HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY to my likkle brother, Mason, or as I call him, Skinner. When he was about to be born my parents asked if we had any suggestions for his name and I promptly suggested “Britt…an, yeah Brittan.” And when that idea was rejected, I came up with “Bunny Ears” and “Mr. Petecloud.” However, neither of those was chosen either, and so somewhere in his growing up stage I came up with Skinner and thanks to the invention of nicknames I’m able to call him that without his official name being changed. But anyway, he’s that special age where he will soon get to start driving a car, which I’m sure he is all too excited about. The last time I was home, he would hang out with us (me and my buddies who came home with me) until we went to bed, and then he would swiftly make his move into the garage to work on his Thunderbird, a car he bought from my great aunt Ada. I would walk by the kitchen and notice the light shining in from the garage and just chuckle. He was loving every minute of whatever little thing he was doing. It’s been so fun to watch him grow up and grow into his body and personality. It was already nearly four or five years ago that he passed me up in height. He now looms over me, but he is still 15 inside. Although I don’t see him much, I always love the time when I can come home and hang out with him. He has a gentle spirit and a fun personality and he allows me to pull him into my circles of friends, where he has a way of catching on to inside jokes and joining in. And I can’t overlook his fabulous DDR skills. DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) is an X-Box game where the player stands on a dancing mat and places their feet wherever the screen instructs. He has become a master and creates such a fun atmosphere when playing the game. So yeah, Happy Happy Birthday, Mason. His email is mclynk818@hotmail.com to send any birthday greetings.


His birthday is also the day I have decided to sign my Bahá'í declaration card, declaring that I am Bahá'í! If you haven’t heard about the Bahá'í Faith, it’s very interesting and you can read more at www.bahai.org. Although many Bahá’ís already think I’m Bahá'í and I feel I’ve been living my life according to the teachings almost since forever, I’ve just decided that now is the time to actually sign the card. The card is really only for administrative purposes, but because it can also personally be a spiritually significant thing, I thought it would be cool to sign on Mason’s birthday because, as my little brother I feel he’s brought out a lot of my spiritual qualities and has inadvertently taught me a whole lot about love, patience, hope, as well as unknowingly let me practice some parenting skills, although I definitely let my parents take over most of the time. When I was in 9th grade, I wrote a story about Mason called, “Boy, What a Pet.” We were supposed to write about a pet we’ve had, but never having had a pet, I had to write about having a little brother. It was then that I realized how lucky I was to have a little brother/pet like him. So two exciting things in one day!

Lastly, don’t forget that I love hearing from people at home! So drop me a line at blynk@macalester.edu, or even better send a letter to me at
Brittany Lynk
#1 Florence Villas
9 Nursery Road
Rondebosch
South Africa
7700

“Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” That used to be such a cute little phrase, but it now has a whole new meaning. Last night, the bugs went marching one by one, and with each hurrah took a little bite out of my flesh. By my right ankle I have a semicircular line of about 7 bites perfectly distributed. The rest of the bites tended to be more random, but the bugs successfully took a bite out of crime, although I’ve still not been read my Miranda rights and told what I did wrong. But hey, no worries, it makes me laugh and that’s worth something.

So about this time last week I was heading to Durban—land of people, pretty beaded things, and pollution. After being in Cape Town for a month I had forgotten what South Africa might look like without a majority of white folks. Then upon arriving in Durban I was faced with the interesting predicament of trying to decide if I had landed in Ghana or India. Durban advertises itself as “South Africa’s Playground” (I don’t know why) and also “The Gateway to the Zulu Kingdom,” I think it should also honor the heavy Indian influence and have a motto like, “The Gateway to India’s Playground.” The Indian population in Durbs is second in size only to India itself. It was really awesome to see the cosmopolitan environment of the city and surrounding areas where everyone could “be.” It’s not like Jamaica where people are mixed and “Out of Many, One People,” but there are all kinds of people moving in every which direction, creating a lively pace of life. I really enjoyed being a part of that as I visited my Macalester friend, Rachel Tenney, who was in Durban for the summer on a research grant. She is from New York and so is very city-savvy, something I most definitely am not, so I followed her confident pace all around the city, to the lovely, but windy beach, and to adventures galore at her two homestay families.

The family we stayed with most and the family with whom she’s lived the whole summer was a “coloured” family in Wentworth, which was originally a community set up for coloureds during Apartheid. If I were to explore for 20 years the intricacies of what it is to be coloured or what coloured is, I still would not be able to get a complete idea of it, because although coloured has been established as a strong social construction, it is still just that: a social construction. My basic understanding is that coloured is a unique racial category that includes any number of people of mixed “races” (the quotes denote the false nature of race), originally dating back to when the first whities landed in the Cape and created offspring with the Hottentots, or the original inhabitants of the land. Since then it has obviously become immensely more complex than that, pulling in myriad versions of what a Coloured person is and creating just as many exceptions to any defined rule denoting who’s in and who’s out. It is a fascinating subject matter really, which I am trying to write my first paper on, but have yet to figure out a way to narrow down and tackle. I have 7 days to do that. Wish me luck. So anyway, In this house there were three generations of cool folks that I had a great time with. If I explained the coolness and details of all of them you’d be reading forever, so I’ll continue.

The second night we went to Rachel’s other homestay family in another area. These guys were Sotho and Zulu and very awesome as well. As my amazing luck would have it, their neighbor was having a traditional 21st birthday celebration on Saturday. This was a huge deal and included the making of hundreds of scones (which I helped with) and even included the slaughtering of a cow, which I watched from start to finish with wide eyes and mixed emotions. The next day brought lots of music, dance, food, people, and energy. I even got in on some of the action and started busting a few moves—some I knew from before in practicing my Jamaican dancehall moves, a few I had learned in my African dance class, and the rest were ones I tried to pick up and I am sure I butchered quite badly. I would have loved to see how I looked, but I had people cracking up for as far as I could see. Whether they were laughing at me or with me, I may never know, but I sure had an amazing time. On both a personal and anthropological level, the whole thing was amazing to experience. And don’t let my continued use of the word amazing take away from its power. I could write on and on about this celebration, as I did in my daily journal where I write about what I do each day, but then y’all would stop reading, so this much of the adventure will have to do for now.

Also while I was in Durban, I was able to get together with the Bahá’ís, one of which I met in Cape Town when he was here visiting. Remember close to when I first arrived in Cape Town, I wrote about having a Bahá’í moment where random people from one side of the earth know random people from the other side of the earth that I know as well? Well, Durban was Bahá’í moment central, with everyone I met in the Bahá’í community knowing at least one person I knew, reaching up to a 7-person connection. It was pretty awesome. I also got to go with a few Bahá’ís to the big township called Umlazi, which was fun. Often there’s no chance of getting to go to a township unless you know people there, so I was lucky to have a connection. The only not so lucky part of going was that somewhere along the line, my special wallet fell out of my shallow pockets. Yet although it was a big bummer at the time, detachment soon came.

The last cool thing about Durban that I’m going to talk about is my awesome opportunity to use the sign language I knew with a 10-year-old boy named Michil, who was the cousin of the kids at the house in Wentworth. I was chillin with the two girls, Jody and Cody at Jody’s place one night (where I was staying) when we decided to go to Cody’s. They told me beforehand that her brother was “deaf and dumb.” Uff, after taking Deaf Culture classes I get a pang in my heart and cringe every time I hear the old school phrase describing someone who is deaf to also be dumb. Obviously someone who is deaf is not dumb just because they cannot produce words that they would have learned if they could hear. Not hearing does not create a mushy brain, but old habits die hard and the term was still in use there. So when I went and started signing to him, he shied away a bit at first, but quickly warmed up and started signing with me a bit. There are some differences in signs, but it didn’t matter because we were still communicating regardless of whether we knew exactly what the other was trying to communicate. It was a very cool experience and I realized at that moment why I had learned sign language…to be able to communicate in a very special way with people otherwise placed on the margins. That little boy had so much love to give and his smile just radiated as he joined in the card games and was able to understand. Precious.

My sincere apologies at the slowness of the posting (and writing) of my blogs. Hope y’all are well!

Note to reader: This is a long one, so you might want to take it in chunks, or thirds. The third Monday of classes has come and gone as well as the whole month of July. I am not quite sure where it went but it has snuck out the backdoor and hopped the next flight to the Seychelles for an 11-month holiday. I wouldn’t mind doing the same except that time does not stop for anything and I would miss too much. But, I’ve been thinking maybe there’s a way to get around that. We just have to change our concept of time and its relation to our lived experiences. I’ve been reading about it in my critical psychology book…Academic disciplines have created mainstream thought too much around Western thoughts and culture making findings and discoveries inapplicable to the greater world, so we need to bring out the marginalized knowledge and ideas for life to be explained more accurately for the majority of people. Are you guys in? There’s a whole other world out there—shining, shimmering, splendid! Stunning even.

So I’ve gotta tell y’all about the amazing days I experienced before my body told me to STOP WITH THE FUN ALREADY.

Saturday: The Guys arrive. The capital G is intentional. When I say “the Guys” I am referring to two of the coolest guys I’ve met in a long time with rip-roaring energy and perfect synergy, characteristic of people who have seen the best and worst in each other and have flourished together as a unit because of it. If you can imagine two fireflies emitting the brightest light you’d seen fireflies emit flitting around a world balloon, you might be able to imagine these two. They had me laughing for hours, which I know for sure is not good for keeping strep throat at bay. And they have the storytelling vibe down so well that each guy knows perfectly when to let the other pick up certain details and then when to switch back. A little more history on these Guys: Pouya and Shahin aka John and Shane are two Persian Australians who have been friends for a long time and where having a reunion with two other buddies in Namibia for a week or so. They then had a few days before going home where they decided last minute to come to Cape Town. Shahin and my roommate Anisa knew each other from when they were doing service in Haifa, Israel together recently. So they get here and immediately start expounding on these amazing adventures of riding on the sand dunes like in Napoleon Dynamite, being stuck between the Zambian and Namibian borders after both gates had closed, the crazy coincidence of being able to see Victoria Falls on the night that the moon was full creating a perfect rainbow in the dark, whitewater rafting with crocs, among other stories. Unbelievable—all in 7 to 10 days. Now they were saying they had 48 hours in Cape Town and wanted to continue the adventures. I was in. I wanted to see Cape Town too and how could there be any better opportunity? So Saturday, we went to a fireside and learned about EQ: Emotional Intelligence for a long time and got in touch with our Primary and Secondary processes, aka our feelings. Then we rushed to the Waterfront, one of Cape Town’s great attractions for some dinner at 10:17. Everywhere we went the kitchens were closed. But thankfully we came armed with four pretty girls (two of which are my beautiful roommates) who somehow convinced a place to open the kitchen. So dinner was on! And that was the first day.

Sunday: WHOA! Woke up, followed by a gathering of friends, and then off to the famous Table Mountain: a huge, flat mountain rising above the city, which is a great place for climbing. We were on a time crunch as I needed to be back by 3 to babysit and I had forgotten my phone to contact anyone if we were running late. We started our adventures around 12, and rushed through them with the utmost enjoyment. Just getting there presented its first challenge as we swerved left and right, eventually pulling over, as we tried to figure out if we were being followed. As the white truck sped past us, we breathed a sigh of relief and were off once again. We rushed up in the cable car, pounced around the top of the mountain looking at the absolutely STUNNING, blessed view of “the spot, and the house, and the place, and the city, and the heart, and the mountain, and the refuge, and the cave, and the valley, and the land, and the sea, and the island, and the meadow where mention of God hath been made, and God’s praise glorified.” (Bahá’u’lláh) With just a few triple jumps, one could move from looking at one side of the world to the other. And the amazing thing is that the day was perfect. Cape Town winters have completely unpredictable weather, often complete with rain, clouds, gray skies, and other such conditions that keep people locked in the house. But it was beautiful. We only stopped once, to watch a little animal devour old cigarettes. The little guy must have been addicted or something. We then quickly made our way to the place of descent where we were instructed to start climbing down. Never having grown up around mountains and never having the experience of mountain climbing, or rather mountain running-down, this was a fun hour prancing down the rocks while trying to keep my eyes up to enjoy the views. Each level brought a whole new beauty and as we noticed ourselves keep saying over the days was, “This must be one of the most beautiful places on earth.” With each step I felt more energized, more amazed, more shaky in the knees. But the soreness the morning after is the best kind. We stopped very few times, trying to beat the clock ticking over our heads, but the waterfall toward the bottom was too much to just pass by. After much exhilaration, we did make it back, and only a few minutes late. From there I babysat, which was fun, and then came back at which time one of my roommates, the amazing MONA, the Guys, and I headed up to Signal Hill where the night view of the city can blow a person away. Just hope it blows you backward instead of forward, because the edge is right there. We stared in amazement for quite a while then got in the car to check out the top. Uh oh! We pulled up into the parking lot, but then spotted three guys approaching to our right with torches (the more fear-inducing word the rest of the world uses for flashlights) so Shahin, the dramatist, sped away to position ourselves perfectly in front of the only other car on the strip for security, even if we happened to disrupt a special moment with our rear beams. The guys with torches soon were approaching again, but walked straight on past through the night. That ended the second day.

Monday: This was the day the guys were supposed to leave, however after rushing to the airport and giving back their rental car, they weren’t able to get on the flight because 1) their tickets were for a different day and 2) the flight was full so they couldn’t leave early. They were quickly back in the swing of their usual go-go-go energy and went with Mona on a day trip to Robben Island. I couldn’t go because as you all may remember, I am actually here to take classes. From what it sounded like, they had a great time, even creating a small protest proclaiming to, “Free Mandela. Free Mandela.” That was about the extent of that day.

Tuesday: Another day that conjures up immediate feelings of calmness, joy, and appreciation for all the unexpected hapinesses of life. It started with class and ended with sleep, and was filled in between with hours of living to the max. After I returned from class, Mona, the Guys, and I were off to town via a kumbi or very crowded taxi bus thing. We were on our way to rent a car and then drive to Cape Point and the Cape of Good Point via Fish Hoek, a place Shahin never thought he’d get to go. The rental process took a lot of our energy, but seeing as energy is never lost or destroyed, we were able to recover a bunch through the natural elements of the earth and each other. So we were off on a beautiful car ride along the coast down to the south eastern-most point of the continent, one of those labels that could be given to anything, like, “the most southernly point above the 51st and 52nd latitude lines,” or something like that. Along the way we stopped to look at vicious little penguins, excited monkeys, and to begin the picture collection of the day with a number of shots of those one-of-the-most-beautiful-places-on-earth places. We eventually made it to the star attraction, and begin the hike up to Cape Point where the lighthouse is located and where you can see the Indian and the Atlantic Ocean meet. It’s said that there’s a line where they meet, but my eyes weren’t able to see it. As often happens when climbing mountains, it feels like you’re getting to a top point and once you get there you see a further/higher point ahead. Such was the experience when we got to the Cape Point…we saw another path down a ways that led out even further. Pouya was determined to go on the path less traveled, so we found the path and continued discovering more hidden treasures and reaching more of those points. Shahin and Mona stopped at one of those top points and Pouya and I continued, only turning back because we were beginning to run out of time to finish everything before the park was going to close. We all rushed back down to where the care was, at which point Shane and Mona hopped in the car and Pouya and I started making our way down the path to the Cape of Good Hope, where we’d meet the other two. We started at a running pace, bounding down the path, but slowly got stalled by the views of the world before our eyes and all around us. We were making good time until a path down to the beach was discovered. Whoosh. I flew down those steps, threw off my shoes and was running down the sand to the water like I was auditioning for a position on Baywatch. The waves were incredibly powerful, crashing against the big rocks to the left and the right. The waves would roll in and cap, and the momentum would continue up the sand right onto our previously dry pants. We were soaked to the upper thigh before we knew it. And before I could take a breath that could properly absorb the crisp sea air, the strong undertow would be yanking the sand from around my feet and pulling it back out. Water is the strongest and most humble element in the world. I became entranced by the sounds and the views, but was pulled back out by Pouya now assuming Shahin’s position and telling me we needed to get moving. Back on the road again, but this time with bare feet, I let my body become weightless, only realizing my inability to do that when I would have to walk across a bunch of small pointy rocks. So I put my shoes back on and zipped on ahead to the summit, and which point I started to worry that there was no exit point to where Shahin, Mona and the car were. After all, this was the absolute top point. Whew. I eventually spotted the path down, but watched the sunset from the top as Pouya made his way to the top as well. Pictures were a must, followed by enjoyment of the splendor, and then a mad rush (well…not really) to the car, which was oddly driving from one side of the parking lot to the other every 7 or so minutes, first to look at the sunset and second to look at the mountain. As the last car left in the park, we figured we should probably make a move before we got stuck there for the night. I was laughing at the prospect, but others were quite worried. Worry aside for two minutes, though, as we spotted a few ostriches just chillin and had to hop out for the all-important pictures. On the road again, we eventually made it to the exit point and were able to leave without a hitch. The hitch came about 37 minutes later as we were nearly home when two people ran toward our car while we were stopped at a red. Shane and John were absolutely convinced we were about to be hijacked, but then the police guy happened to pull up beside us. Me? I’m not so sure about this concoction of a story, but those two love it, so it’s all theirs. We made it home for a breather at which time the guys went for dinner with a couple they met earlier and the rest of us got ready for a big good bye party the guys were throwing for themselves. Of course, all the kitchens were closed by the time we all got coordinated, so we ended up finding a karaoke place called Dizzy’s. By this time, my throat was coming into full effect, so I wasn’t going to participate, but uff, it looked like SO MUCH FUN that the last song I just had to join in (Maroon 5…This Love). We all had so much fun! And without any alcohol if you could believe! Quite a crew. And as we were about to call it a night, we walked outside and ran into a homeless woman, or rather she ran into us….over and over again, smacking her lips and teetering over. She was either very drunk or had a whole different mental reality. She was approaching all of us as taking grabs at people saying she wanted to get married, etc. It is only funny for me looking back on it, but at the time it was very uncomfortable. We could hardly get in the car without her blocking the way. And once we did get in the car, she began taking a coin and tap tapping the hood with it, eventually just throwing the coin at us as we left. Thankfully no harm was done and I think the others got more amusement out of the situation. The ride home was one big medley as we sang any song we could think of at the top of our lungs. I knew I was sacrificing my throat, but figured it was worth it. After sacrifice is giving up something lower for something higher and we were pretty naturally high that night.

Well, I think I’ll leave it at that. Wednesday the Guys left in the morning for a stopover in Singapore and then on to Australia, and I got bed-ridden in the afternoon. Life goes on. Today it’s Monday and although I’m not back to 100%, I’m on my way, and as you’ve read, those 4 days of fun were most definitely worth it.

Twas the best of times, twas the worst of times. This past week has been just that. It started with absolutely amazing experiences around Cape Town with some absolutely phenomenal people and then…BAM! Little B is knocked off her feet with a bad case of strep throat. My left tonsil looks like there’s a lump of charcoal covered in white netting. My lower cheeks and neck are quite swollen and sore, making me look a bit like a pear-head. This is an exaggeration, but adds to the imagery. I’ve never had strep throat so severe. After a few days of letting it go and immersing myself in activities 137%, I finally pulled my weak feverish body to health services, where the nurse immediately sent me to the doctor for some help. That was yesterday. Today was all videos! And for those of you who know my well, I am often opposed to movies for a few reasons, the major one being they take away from time that could be spent productively working or building relationships. However, extreme circumstances call for extreme measures. Interestingly enough, one of the videos I picked from my roommate’s collection happened to be the Beyond Words video from 2001 of a group of Bahá’ís from around the world who came to South Africa, traveled around and did dances with messages about eliminating the extremes of poverty and wealth, ending poverty, staying away from drugs, and stopping domestic violence among other things. Low and behold when I turned it on and watched the members of the group dance in from offstage, I saw TWO PEOPLE I knew! My first-year roommate, Jess Thimm, and my good friend, Jenni Burke! It was so amazing. Talk about globalization.

Let me take a few steps back though and update y’all on a few things. Last I wrote I was still figuring out my classes; whether I should take 3 or 4. The second to last day before we had to add claases, I decided 3, but then went to talk with Bill Moseley, my geography professor from Macalester who is in Cape Town for the summer, who told me about a really interesting Urban Geography class, which I immediately took action toward adding. All I needed was the professor’s signature, a seemingly simple task, but by the last day to add classes I only had an email approval. The registrar’s office gave me til Monday to get the signature. So after four long walks up to the top of upper campus to the professor’s office where I was met each time by a closed door, I figured it must not have been meant to be. I want to emphasize at this point that upper campus is not close to anything but upper campus, and upper upper campus is no less than 237 steps away from upper campus. So four walks up and down pretty much gave me my exercise for the next two months. I additionally went to the class at its meeting time on Monday and was greeted with a note on the board that said, “Urban Geography has been cancelled today because the professor is stuck in Johannesburg due to the South African Airways strike. So that pretty much sealed the deal, and I’m taking 3. Being sick right now really makes that feel like the right decision.