Christmas house

I've been counting down the days until I get home for Christmas for multiple reasons. Here are a few.

Wrapping Presents by the fire

Homemade gingerbread and peppermint hot chocolate for breakfast.

The extra ingredient to everything. 

Perfect mixture of belgian chocolate and ghiradelli chocolate chips

Grandma's favorite homemade peppermint bark.

Ugly Christmas Sweaters from Walmart

Cookies!

Dinner parties with family and friends

Grandma's House

Cooking with everyone

Curling up by the fire

Matching pajamas (all the cousins had them, bummed I didn't get a picture of all of us).

Sitting down to eat with 19 family members in the living room.

Christmas Eve Fish Feast and Grandma

My best friends!!

I'll be home for Christmas

Arrived home last night around 11:00! Whole family waiting at the airport, and I can't lie, I teared up a bit upon seeing them. I couldn't be happier to be back in the coziness of my house and smack dab in the middle of my family's everyday routine. Woke up at five thirty this morning because of jet lag, and was pleasantly surprised to see both of my brothers up. Had a 6:00 catch up sesh with them before Liam went off to take a midterm at 8 this morning. He got into college early decision, so even though the results of this don't matter, he still didn't sleep so he could study. That's dedication. Dante, coming off finals week at Vanderbilt, didn't sleep last night period because he slept for a full 16 hours upon his return home and now can't sleep at all. Glad to know we're all going to be off in our sleeping schedules this week.

This past weekend Russell and I spent exploring the little town of Oxford. It is beautiful at Christmastime, and is a city rich with history and tradition. Our hosts, family friends the Rothwells, could not have been more welcoming and generous, providing us with copious amounts of delicious food, showing us around the town and the colleges with which they had associations, and providing us with an ad interim family with whom to spend the pre-holiday season. We enjoyed ourselves SO MUCH in Oxford. Russell coming off stressful finals in Spain and me coming off of 5 weeks of living out of a suitcase, switching cities every other day, whirlwind sightseeing, we were both exhausted. Oxford providing us with the perfect restful weekend to enjoy our last few days of our study abroad experience. 

The University of Oxford is so different from any university I have ever come in contact with. The Oxford system seems like one of the most unique and inspiring ways to learn. There are 38 colleges within the university, and you apply to one of these instead of the university itself. The "classes" are tutorials, with one or two students and a professor, with whom you meet once or twice a week. Its very reading and writing intensive, but the students are only in school for 24 weeks a year, less than half the year! 

We spent so much time wandering through colleges, looking at the gargoyles, sitting in pubs enjoying local beer and food, and looking at some of the most unique museum exhibits I've ever seen. I don't have pictures because of my lack of camera, but when I steal Russell's from his iphone I'll definitely do a longer post on Oxford. It was definitely one of my favorite stops on my 5 week long adventure. 

As for now, I'm so happy spending time with my family, catching up on sleep, lounging on the couch for the first time in a long time, listening to christmas carols, drinking peppermint hot chocolate, wrapping the overwhelming amount of christmas presents I brought home for the family from abroad, and enjoying being back on American soil.

I've been all around the world, literally, in the past 5 months (well, two continents) and I've loved every place I've been. But there is no place in the world like Boston, Massachusetts and home sweet home. I've never been so happy to be home.

bad news bears

I'm currently in Prague visiting Marya, one of my best friends from high school. Prague is beautiful; stunning architecture and a weird fusion between eastern and western European culture.
Yesterday, we were wandering around the most crowded Christmas market I've been to (Budapest, Hungary, and Krakow, Poland crowds haven't even measured up, Cologne, Germany was close though). I had just taken my camera out to take a picture of the big, beautiful Christmas tree that lights up Old Town square, and I temporarily put my camera in my coat pocket. (If I'm continuously taking pictures, I'll keep my camera either clipped to my bag or in my pocket. If not, its tucked away in my purse.) Two minutes later, I went to grab my camera again to take another Christmas market picture, and it was gone. Some enterprising Czechs really took advantage of the teeming Christmas market tourists.
With that camera, I lost every single picture I've taken since I left Spain. I left my laptop there, so I've had no way to upload my pictures. Losing the camera is one thing, but its replaceable. But losing those pictures are not. The ones I'm most upset about are Assisi, Italy, and the Auschwitz and Birkeneau, and Budapest. I was super excited about showing you all where I had been, and teaching you what I had learned through this blog. For me when I'm reading a blog post, the pictures make the post.
I had a lot of fun with that camera. I've learned how to take real pictures of art, architecture, food, and people over the past few weeks, simply because I've never been exposed to so many new things and places in such a short amount of time. The good news is that I won't lose what I've learned.
My plans for a Europe scrapbook, a Christmas card with a collage of all the most Christmasy scenes in every country I've been to, and blog posts about each country are now going to be foregone, however. I'm a little bit heart broken, especially because without the money to spend on souveniers, those pictures were going to be what I brought back.
You live and you learn, I guess, and I should've known better to hide that camera away. I've been lucky so far that this is the worst thing that has happened to me. And I'm hoping and praying that whoever took that camera is using it to provide his or her family with the best Christmas they've ever had.
I hope everyone back home is having an amazing Christmas season, and I literally CANNOT wait for two weeks from today, when I'll be sleeping in my OWN BED for the first time in over 5 months. I miss you all so much!
Next stop on this adventure? Paris!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm currently visiting Molly, my good friend from Villanova, in Perugia, Italy. It's my first time having Thanksgiving out of the country and my first time having Thanksgiving without my family. I'm sitting in Molly's kitchen, and it smells like the delicious turkey that I just pulled out of the oven. It's weird how scents are so closely tied to memories. I've only ever connected the scent of roasting turkey overflowing with spiced stuffing with my family, so pulling that turkey out of the oven and not having my Dad lecturing me on how to do it correctly isweird. I'm sure it's weird for them not having me here, as I usually take control of quite a lot of the cooking. We spend the entire night before and most of the day of Thanksgiving in the kitchen, as most families do. But the best part of Thanksgiving is cooking with my entire family. Three generations in whichever kitchen we happen to be in, adding their contribution, football or the parade on the tv in the background. One of my favorite traditions is that my family make 3 different kinds of cranberry sauces each year, each kid   makes their own kind. Unfortunately, cranberries don't exist in Italy, so we're just skipping that part. But we're going over to Molly's friends apartment, and the 3 girls happen to go to Villanova as well. I met them for the first time yesterday (weird meeting people from your own school in a totally different country) and everyone's cooking their own dish. I'm super excited. I already went for my usual Thanksgiving run, this time around Perugia, a seriously hilly town that is so quintessentially Italian, so that I'll be hungry enough for this feast!
I'm bummed that this is my last day in Italy! On Monday, I spent most of the day getting from Rome to Italy, but when I arrived I changed immediately and we went right to see the ballet Sleeping Beauty at the most beautiful opera house in Italy. The theater consisted only of boxes with about 6 seats in each. We had our own box, and we're perched exactly above the theater, which gave us a weird perspective on the stage. Afterwards we went to the best pizza place in town. Melt in your mouth Italian pizza! Perfect welcome to Italy.
On Tuesday, Molly had class all day until 5, so after getting a cappuccino in a little cafe, Molly went to class and I got on the train to Assisi, which is about 45 minutes away from Perugia. Assisi was incredible. I'd always heard of St. Francis, but never knew how revolutionary he was. His aim was to bring God to the people, make religion more accessible to the masses. He was the son of a wealth textile trader, but when he was around 20 (my age!) he renounced his father and all his worldly possessions and pledged to lead a life of poverty.

My next adventure!

After one 12 hour flight, a 2 hour layover in Heathrow, and then another 2.5 hour flight, I finally arrived in Madrid at 11:20 on Thursday night. I was sweaty, exhausted, and weighed down with my three carry ons, but was so excited at the prospect of seeing Russell for the first time after 4 months of separation that I barely felt it.

As soon as I got off the plane, I walked/sprinted the length of the terminal (the international terminal at Barajas airport may have the world record for being the longest terminal of all time), and went to collect my bag at customs. I stood there waiting for a few minutes, tense because I knew Russell had been waiting for half an hour because my flight had been delayed.  The baggage took a little while to come out, and I couldn’t help but think that the gods of travel were pushing for our reunion to be postponed for the longest amount of time possible. But then the bags started rolling down the ramp!!! So exciting!! Russell was just on the other side of customs, the only thing that stood between me and him was my one bag!! Everyone kept leaning over and selecting their luggage, but I hadn’t seen mine yet. Then, the luggage ramp stopped. All the bags had come out. Mine was missing. Sigh. I was almost expecting this. Iberian airlines may be the worst airline I’ve ever flown, so this wasn’t too surprising. I walked back across the entire airport to report my bag as lost, realizing I had no idea what Russell’s Spanish address was, and besides I was flying to Barcelona in the morning to see my best friend Deia. Travel nightmare.

But I didn’t need to worry about that. Iberian airlines had a policy that you had to wait for an hour after your flight landed to file a claim for lost luggage. I still had 45 minutes to go! But I couldn’t turn my phone on to call Russell and let him know because I still hadn’t gone through customs; there’s a strict no phone policy before customs. In the meantime, they told me to walk around the airport and look for my bag to see if it had come out anywhere. Lovely. I took a little stroll, not seeing my bright blue ribbon tied to my black wheelie anywhere, so I went to the customs area to see if Russell was on the other side. He was! He saw me walking toward the automatic doors that separated us. My first image of Russell after 4 months was him with such an excited face that I was FINALLY walking through those doors after 45 minutes of waiting, him holding a rose, a sign with my name on it (sort of), and peanut m&ms, my favorite candy.  But then, right before I got to the automatic doors I stopped. He was confused, and I had to yell through the automatic doors that separated us, which kept opening and shutting, that I needed the address of the place I was staying so that they could drop my bag off.  After a while of this, the customs lady let me go through and back in order to get the addresses I needed. It was so hectic, but so typical of us. When I finally came through customs for the final time, we were both laughing hysterically.  I was completely luggage less for the next 4 days, but I couldn't care less. 

The next morning, Friday, Russell and I went to Barcelona and spent the next 3 days Deia. When we arrived in Barcelona, the sun was shining, the weather was beautiful, and I was finally reunited, after 4 months, with two of my favorite people on this earth. 

Russell and Deia in front of la Sagrada Familia.

I've spent the past week in Barcelona, Alcala de Henares (the city Russell is studying), Madrid, now Russell and I are in a hostel in Sevilla, and we're heading to Granada tomorrow. 

After that I'll be continuing on  my Europe adventure! My next stop (after spending the night on Sunday night in Madrid with Deia and her family friends the Perezes) is Pergugia, Italy, with Molly my good friend from Villanova. Then she and I are going to the Christmas market in Cologne, Germany. Then I'm visiting Krakow, Poland, and Budapest, Hungary the following week by myself (I'm a little nervous to do the whole traveling by myself thing, but I think it will be interesting!). After that, I'm meeting Deia in Prague, where we will be visiting one of our best friends from high school, Marya, who is studying abroad there. After Prague, I'm meeting up with Russell in Paris for 6 days. Then I'm heading to Belgium and the Netherlands for 2 days each from December 12-15th (alone again!), and I'm meeting Russell in London and we're going to Oxford for a few days before we both fly home on December 18th. This is going to be hectic, and I'm seeing lots of people that I love and interesting places. I'll try to keep this blog up as I go, but I'm leaving my laptop with Russell for the remainder of the trip (lugging this bad boy across Europe would not only be annoying but I'm staying in hostels, so the less expensive things I have the better).

I've hit a few road blocks already (my luggage being MIA for 4 days, I left my only winter coat on the bus to Sevilla) but so far this trip has been idyllic. I love Espana, learning Spanish from Russell (he's basically fluent now!), eating tapas, and learning about the history. It was so great getting to meet Russell's host family, and seeing Deia's authentic spanish apartment, and seeing the places that they go to on a day-to-day basis. Now I'll know what they're talking about all the time! 

P.S. Today is Russell's mom's birthday. Happy birthday Mary Beth! We talked about you lots today! Enjoy!!

Home sweet America

My time in South Africa has presented me with a lot of challenges. It was my first time living in a city, taking public transportation, living with a family other than my own for an extended period of time, and participating in classes provided by an international university. I’ve definitely experienced a bit of “cultural fatigue” here by being completely culturally immersed. The hour long commute each way, which frequently coincided with uncomfortable interactions with strangers, who are largely, but not limited to, colored males. The long commute also meant for cultural isolation. I had little interaction with Americans on a day-to-day basis, which meant that I didn’t have many people to talk about my experience and have “cultural reaffirmation.” My home stay mom’s home cooking, which is an towering pile of white rice topped with a meat curry or stew, is delicious, but very carb heavy and fattening, a complete converse of my family’s health conscious diet. I love rice and curry, but after 3 months straight of it, a few pounds gained, and a bit of indigestion, I think it might take a while to get excited about the concept of eating curry. This was an example of cultural differences. My classes here have a pretty heavy workload, and one requires online chats two nights a week as well as meetings with other students multiple times a week, which, along with my 1 hour commute, has isolated me from the rest of the students in the program.  Moonlit hike up Lion’s head? I can’t, I have a chat session. Yoga class this afternoon? Sorry, I have an urgent meeting with the European Union. The weird timing of all these meetings has kept me chained to both my computer and the university, preventing me from getting out to explore the city as well as from volunteering another afternoon per week. However, even with all of these stress factors, I’ve still absolutely loved my time in Cape Town. And instead of spending time with my fellow Americans, I’ve gotten to know South African students. I can’t imagine having studied abroad anywhere else.

It’s been quite interesting trying to figure out what it means to be an American in Cape Town. While the city itself is very welcoming, American students seem to have developed a reputation at UCT of being silly, ignorant, or stereotypical. Yesterday in our CIEE seminar class, a student said that he had grown to hate his American accent and the stereotypical ignorant American. Given, our accents as well as several other factors make us stand out from the crowd and make it difficult for us to assimilate into South African culture, but our accents are also a symbol of the incredible experience we have been given purely by the nation in which we’ve been born. Many of my conversations have started with: “Where are you from?” because people have picked up on my accent. But then, because they know I’m not from around here, they share personal stories, Cape Tonian tips, favorite spots in Cape Town.   I’ve spoken with many people about my heritage and cultural background while here, and though sometimes I’m scorned (especially by anti-capitalist UCT professors), many people speak of my country with a tinge of envy. “It seems like everything is so cheap in the U.S.…everyone goes to college, can get an education, a car…” I’ve heard variations of this statement on several occasions. True, this is a misperception created by American pop culture, particularly by the television and films that have completely infiltrated South African society, but we, the students of CIEE, are perfect examples of the incredible opportunity that our nation provides for innumerable citizens. Throughout this semester, I have found myself wondering what made me lucky enough to have been born into an accomplished American family. It seems to me that I could just as well have been born into a family that lived in a rural area in South Africa that was oppressed by the apartheid government and as a result lives in crippling poverty with little option for social mobility. To me, our accents are a representation of the opportunity that we have been blessed with. How can you hate a symbol of such opportunity?

The Bo-Kaap neighborhood.

                Of course we’re going to be separate from the culture here. Of course we’re going to stand out from the pack. But that’s why we are called study abroad students. We’re here to have a unique experience, not to blend into the crowd. We’re supposed to get to know the culture and the history of this country, and though I agree with the concept of shedding our tourist mindsets, much of the positive experiences that I’ve had here have occurred purely because I’ve let myself be a tourist. Of course I’ve put my camera down and stopped seeing Cape Town from behind a lens. But by being unique here, I’ve learned so much: about the country, the university, the people, and, probably must significantly, about myself. I’ve never been different: I’ve always been just another white, upper middle class, Catholic girl at my largely white, upper middle class, Catholic high school and university. Here, I’m a rarity. And I like it. I’ve discovered that I’m proud of my ugly accent. As a result of being so different from my surroundings, my comfort zone has been poked, pried, smashed, and has ultimately stretched to be a much bigger “zone” than it was when I got here.

The neighborhood I volunteered in

All the cross-cultural stress factors, stressful though they are, have made me see what it is really like to live as a South Africa, not an American abroad. The privileges I’m used to at home, such as use of a car, freedom of movement, tiny class sizes at my university, and having control over my diet, I’ve come to see not as the norm but rather as privileges. That doesn’t mean that I prefer my life at home, but I’ve come to enjoy living in a way that is so drastically different from the way my American life. This is so cliché, but I’m going to come back from study abroad a changed woman. This experience has totally changed my background and the perceptions that I will form about the world in the future.  The biggest change I’ve made has been overcoming being judgmental. I was never terribly judgmental at home, but here I’ve recognized that as humans, when we meet a person we form certain assumptions about them. Here I’ve learned that those assumptions are often wrong, and that it’s best to just go into a situation with no expectations. There is so much more to a person than what you get on your first impression. Everyone has something unique to offer the world. You really can’t judge a book by its cover, even those silly stereotypical ignorant Americans. 

view from the cafe I always studied at that i promised I would never tire of (I didn't)

Goodbye, Cape Town

So. I made it. I have escaped Africa alive, unharmed, and in one piece.  I don’t know exactly how many people actually feared for my well-being during my semester in Cape Town, but I’m sure that there were some. “Don’t die, don’t get AIDS” was some actual advice that I received before my departure to the great continent of Africa. But please, don’t ask me when I return how Africa was. I have no idea. I have barely even skimmed the surface of the largest Continent on earth, but I can tell you about Cape Town if you’d like! 

Kirstenbosch, my favorite spot in Cape Town.

During my time here, I took public transportation every day to and from school. With the walk to the train station on either end, the entire journey took about an hour each way, and let me tell you, I dreaded it every single day. In truth, every time I mentioned that I was taking the public transportation system to a South African student, they wrinkled their nose and asked, “oh wow, how’s that?” At first I couldn’t see what the problem was, but after a few weeks of experiencing being so stuck between the packed masses of sweaty bodies that I could barely breathe, I began to understand what they meant. It was pure drudgery, there’s no other way to put it, but I experienced getting to university the same way that many students whose families can’t afford a car, and experienced the daily commute of a typical middle class worked in Cape Town. I will never again look at the rats in the New York City subway system with disdain.  The large pile of human feces left on the seat by a passenger that I encountered one day, which had been clearly been sitting there for the entire day, was not only more unsanitary but also much more repulsive.  Every day I would lug two large bags, one filled with workout clothes or clothes for the night, and one filled with books for school and my laptop onto the train. I was clearly an outsider: no one carries that much stuff in Cape Town, but I was never robbed or mugged, which just goes to show how safe Cape Town really is if you’re careful. 

That time i saw Prince Charles lecture at UCT

I also took classes at the University of Cape Town: Applied International Trade Bargaining, South African Political Thought, and the Politics of International Trade Relations. I met a plethora of South African students, and in two out of my 3 tutorials I was the only American student. In the third, I was one of two. I was completely immersed in the South African university system, and learned politics and economics from a non-Western perspective. Many of my professors scoffed America and looked down on capitalism, which was a complete departure from the style of teaching to which I am accustomed.

I volunteered teaching Xhosa speaking 9^th graders English in the township of Khayelitsha and found that volunteering is not the happy, rewarding experience I had always found it to be before. Finding proper ways to help people is not easy. You can’t just march in with a pre-tailored plan and expect it to work. A man I met while here in Cape Town put it rather interestingly, “if you want to make God laugh, make plans.” I’d worked with 3^rd and 4^th graders in inner-city Philadelphia before, but was given so much guidance and support on how to tutor and help them. They were under strict rules to listen to me, and I was under given an exact role. Here I was given a booklet and a group of kids and sent to work. That was difficult, and the frustrations I encountered with the program I was supposed to be teaching, as well as with the difficulty I had in actually teaching English to these students made me realize that implementing actual, sustained change in both the South African society and the South African educational system is going to take a long, long, time. 

I did an independent study while here on the relationship between the South African education system and the economy. Though South Africa invests the most money per student of any nation on the continent, it also scores incredibly poorly on international standardized tests.  Since apartheid, students have been able to go to whatever school they would like, but few take advantage of this opportunity and schools are still largely segregated. There is a massive teacher shortage, so class sizes can be upwards of 50 students per class, and the teachers are ill-equipped to prepare their students for the working world. Memorization is stressed while students never learn critical thinking skills. This poor preparation on the behalf of the education system cripples the economy because most of the student of South Africa are not being prepped to be innovative and creative skilled workers who will boost the economy and bring unemployment out of its current slump.

As I look out the window while I’m typing this, I see the Sahara stretching itself out below me. In a few short hours I’ll be in London, and a few short hours after that I’ll be reuniting with Russell for the first time in 4 months. Even though this long distance thing was actually painless for us, seeing him in person will be unbelievable.

With all the adventures I had in Cape Town, when it was time to start saying goodbyes a couple days ago, I was ready.  I didn’t have any emotional, tear filled goodbyes in my last few days. I was too excited to be sad. I’ll be back to Cape Town, but for now I’m ready for my next adventure and the final chapter of my junior semester abroad. Bring it. 

Cape Town as I was taking off.

Flannel shirts and apple cider

You know what i miss?

Caramel apples, jack o lanterns, pumpkins, fall leaves, butternut squash soup, the smell of the first day of fall, runs through the woods behind my house, the first day its cold enough to build a fire, baking apple pie, pine needles, my mom's pumpkin bread, candy corn, pumpkin spice lattes, flannel shirts, hiking, falling leaves, the road where we biked on by my house in the fall, watching soccer games, warm apple cider in the morning,  and running though the New England prep schools for cross country races and remembering my youth.

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The boys and I at Thanksgiving last year. 

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My friend Rachel took this picture of my house around the 4th of July. Its in the middle of the woods, and my favorite thing to do in the fall is run through the paths in the woods that you can see behind it. 

Although I can't complain about Cape Town's spring, I never really realized how much I love fall in New England until I missed it. 

This week

A few weird things that have happened to me lately:

1.       I looked at the coffee a barista handed me thinking it was massive, then realizing it would only be a size small in the U.S.

2.       While watching an American movie, I wondered why the steering wheel was on the wrong side, then realizing that’s where the steering wheel is in American cars.

3.       I’ve realized that I’m so used to the yoga every morning, café every afternoon lifestyle here, I don’t think I can switch back.

4.       I’ve realized I only have 18 days left here.

5.       I went to McDonalds for the first time here, and just ordered a cup of corn. Their two side options: fries and corn.

6.       Being charged at by a man with a stick isn’t actually normal here (thank you to the lady who pulled over and saved me).

7.       My professor took all 150 of us out to a bar after our last class and bought us all tequila shots. Each tequila shot was a “fine” for all the things we did wrong representing our nations in a World Trade Bargaining Round. I was one of only 3 Americans in the class, it was so much fun spending the entire afternoon with South Africans, although all they wanted to talk about was America. (Oh, and we were dressed as our respective countries, which explains the costumes below. Cowboy hat=USA. I was representing the Czech Republic...). 

Can you spot the professor?

   8. My last day of classes happened on October 22 (a Saturday). Both of those things are weird.

9.       I’ve realized that with all the weird ups and downs that I’ve had this semester,  I think Cape Town is my favorite city in the world.

10.   I’ve grown used to sitting outside at a café doing my homework, having waiters come and offer me cozy blankets if it gets chilly, telling me I can pay next time if they don’t want to break my R100 notes, having the mountain looming in the background, sampling a million different scones, having avo and feta as a given in every salad.

11.   “Take me home, country road” is playing in the café I’m sitting at right now. I was just thinking about how much I’m looking forward to my family’s annual Christmas celebration in West Virgina.

12.   I’ve realized that any weekend where I didn’t go to a single market is a rarity.

13.  I had my last day of volunteering on Thursday. The entire semester just flew by. 

HAPPY 50th DAD!

Me and my Dad at the top of Kilimanjaro, which we did to celebrate his 50th birthday. (I look really good here...)

He's 50 and he made it up Kilimanjaro with no problem! So clearly, he's not old. Otherwise I would totally make fun of him for being a such an oldie. But in reality, it seems like he's just getting younger.... So here's to another 50 years of living life to the fullest. And many more Kilimanjaro-esque adventures to come!

Have the best day ever, Russ.

Here's my weak attempt at a long-distance birthday card.

Happy Birthday Russell!! I am so, so bummed I can't be there. Totally put a damper on this beautiful spring Friday that I'm missing your 20th birthday. But here's a few things making me happy today!

This is Russell. From the movie Up. But he is also my Russell circa age 9.... Totally reminds me of what he must have been like when he was 9. Minus the boy scout apparel. 

Feliz Cumpleanos Russell! Do you have a thing with being in Spanish speaking countries for your birthday?

Last year, Russell and I were in El Salvador on a service trip, and our amazing group got him this cake from El Salvador's equivalent of Costco. Now he's in studying abroad in Spain...excited to see which country you'll be in next year for your 21st!

I caught the exact moment that Russell was making his wish...

Stinks that I can't be there this year to do the same. It's crazy to think that a year ago, when I was taking this picture, Russell and I were just friends and barely knew each other and had NO idea we'd be dating a couple of weeks later...This year went by CRAZY fast. 

However, exactly four weeks from today, I will be celebrating (a little late) with Russell IN PERSON. I literally cannot wait and am counting down the days. 

So, Russ, my temporary birthday present is that I'm leaving South Africa a week early to go to Spain and see you a week earlier than planned!!  Oh no! Now you have less time to prepare! And find me a hotel reservation....So stressful. You might want to get crackin' on that, huh?

Happy 20th, Russ!

P.S. As i was finishing this card, the song "Your Song" came on in the cafe I'm sitting in. That is the strangest coincidence. I'm freaking out a little bit. SO weird. 

The Africa I know and love

For an assignment for a class that I’m taking while here, I needed to take pictures of several things that I thought were either obvious or curious about South African society and to make a note on why. I thought it would be interesting to post the pictures here for everyone at home to see.

The first picture I chose was of a hippo crossing sign that my mom and I came across while driving along the Garden Route. The sign was obvious in that it is a safety precaution to warn drivers of animals that are likely to cross the road, but it is curious in that it was for a HIPPO. We have those for deer at home. Imagine having to look out for that tricky hippo who always crosses when you’re late for work…

This picture has already been posted on this blog, but I thought it was worth bringing up again. It’s an outhouse on Kilimanjaro with some bathrooms marked for porters and some marked for tourists. It’s crazy how there is still blatant segregation like that in a place that is  frequented by so many people from the outside world. There’s no hiding the hierarchy on Kilimanjaro, its plain for everyone to see. It was weird for me to see such clear differences in terms of status.

This picture is of a bird that I saw while walking through Arusha, Tanzania. This picture is curious for SO many reasons. First of all, that is not a nice looking bird. Have you ever seen something so weird looking? Poor guy.  BUT I didn’t feel too bad for him because he was the size of me. I’m not kidding. He was my height. Walking around the city like he owned the place. And everyone else thought it was normal that a bird their size was strutting around the music festival we were passing though. I had a serious WHERE AM I moment then.

This is the food court at school, decorated with hundreds of paper cups. There was a sign right next to it, explaining how much we waste as a campus just by drinking coffee out of paper cups. It was cool to see how proactive the university is. Villanova doesn't do things like this. And all the South African students thought it was normal. Barely noticed that there was a chain of paper cups dominating the entire food court. 

This was really weird for me, going to Catholic high school and college, where sex, condoms, and AIDS simply weren't mentioned. There are free condom dispensers in every single bathroom, in every dorm, and in random places scattered around campus. My university isn't even allowed to keep any form of birth control on campus, even in the health center. Here, the health conditions necessitate the ubiquitous distribution. 

If I had placed this picture in front of you and asked you to tell me where in the world it was taken, chances are that the last place you would say is Africa, right? The market culture here was surprising at first, but now its expected. I've become such a market snob. There's nothing like them at home, and I'm going to be heartbroken to leave them behind. Gourmet food, that the people who prepare it are passionate about, in such a happy atmosphere, decorated in the funkiest and most aesthetically pleasing way. Oh, and adorable clothes, jewelry and crafts. What more could you ask for?

Another thing I love about Cape Town that was surprising: the cafe culture. Globalization hasn't hit here to hard, and, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd take a cozy independent coffee shop over my Starbucks skinny vanilla latte to go any day. It's crazy seeing what America must have looked like before Starbucks and Dunkies hit. I want to do a blog post about all the cute little cafes that I've been to, but I never have my camera when I go. They're all gorgeously decorated, delicious, and very conducive to doing work. Above is Cafe Mozart in the center of Cape Town. So cute.