Finishing in the City Center

(From April 10)

This was really a wonderful weekend. I got to know more urban parts of Cape Town, as well as a sobering historical site and the most delicious brunch place around. I’m falling in love with this city.

My burgeoning love really began to blossom on Saturday morning, when Sally, Jenn, Izzy, Savannah, and I hitched an Uber over to the Old Biscuit Mill. We’d been told that it’s a sort of food market, and I was expecting a farmer’s market sort of thing with tons of fresh veggies and fruit straight from the vine/tree/root. Boy, was I misled. The Mill was more of a hip, bourgeois, Santa Monica-ish outdoor fair market thing that absolutely, 100% hooked me in. Adorable clothes, rugged jewelry, wine by the glass for only $2, and stall after stall of specialty foods filled the converted biscuit mill. It had kept its rugged brick walls but abandoned its roof to embrace the cloudless sky, and the installation of a zany fountain with brass buckets and some cool contraptions encapsulated the alternative vibe. My friends and I wandered through the food stalls, tasting delectable latkes, dim sum, fresh sandwiches (that one was me), fried mac and cheese balls, soft pretzels (me again), glasses of South African wine (me twice), and alcoholic slushies (you guessed it—me).

Izzy and I chatted with the woman working the wine stall, and we learned that she actually hails from Ohio and is at the University of Cape Town for her Master’s degree. The three of us discussed travelling, and I gave her some advice on her upcoming trip to India, when I suddenly realized—I can give people advice on travelling to India. I can give people tidbits on what restaurant to visit, which Airbnb to avoid, which tour guide to recommend, in numerous countries on five continents. Oh my god. I think that was the moment that I realized, for real, the extent of my travels and the incredible way in which the world has truly become my home. I’ve fallen in love with countries and with people and places along the way, and I’m amazed at how lucky I am to have travelled to and lived in so many places in such a short amount of time. Ten countries in under a year… Wow.

BUT enough nostalgia for now—that’ll come in my final post!! I think that our conversation warmed our wine-pourer to us, and she gave us rather generous ‘glasses’ that probably were at least two glasses-worth of wine in each one. Feeling good and buzzed, I flounced over to the clothing market and surprisingly handed over no money for any clothes or jewelry (I did slyly fork over my phone number, but that’s a different story). We finished our time at the Mill with a screwdriver slushie and hopped in an Uber to get to the waterfront.

The waterfront was so beautiful, but we had little time to enjoy it, as we quickly boarded a boat to Robben Island. The ride itself was about forty-five minutes, and I enjoyed both the fresh breeze and ocean views as I read my book and relaxed in the shade. Upon landing, Sally and I realized that about ten other IHP students had booked the same tour as us—so we had a bit of an American student takeover on our tour bus! We first spent forty-five minutes in a large tour bus on the edges of the island, seeing the village and amenities of the former prison, as well as a penguin colony and a really gorgeous panorama of Table Mountain and the coast of Cape Town. The more sobering half of the experience was a tour through the actual prison with a former Robben Island prisoner. Listening to his horrific tales of torture, resistance, and eventual freedom made me both sick with the evil of humanity as well as hopeful for the strength and resilience of humans. It was also so inspiring to listen to a former prisoner. He literally took us into his old cell and recounted his experiences. It’s difficult to comprehend the mental and emotional strength that an individual must possess to give tours of such a painful site to numerous tourists, but I admired it even if I couldn’t fully understand it. I am forever indebted to his fortitude, as it gave me the opportunity to learn about a painful, repressive history.

After such a difficult experience, it was so pleasant to watch the sun’s orange-red glow leak into the gorgeous indigo ocean. I’d so missed watching the sun set on the water, and it makes me even more eager to get back to the Pacific and enjoy the familiar sight from my favorite beaches! I really savored the end of the day, though, and tried to emanate my gratitude for the beauty and history to which I’d been exposed into the open sea air.

That night, I took a “nap” at 8:30 PM that turned into a full night’s sleep, obviously. Really lived it up on my last Saturday in Bo’Kaap!

I woke up early-ish this morning and read Infinite Jest for a few hours before walking down the hill to a little brunch place called Clarke’s for some food and (more importantly) some WiFi. I ended up running into like four or five other IHPer’s, which was just so fun and made me feel really at home in the city. I also enjoyed catching up with the outside world over the most delicious breakfast I’ve had in a really long time. Avocado goat cheese toast and a heaping bowl of oranges, figs, pomegranate seeds, mango, etc. etc. I was overwhelmed by the fresh, healthy, filling scrumptiousness in front of me. I even took a picture for Instagram—that’s how pretty it was!!! It was a fabulous morning.

I trekked back up the hill around 1 PM for an extremely intricate seafood lunch prepared all day by my host mother. The whole family came over to the house to either say goodbye to me and Savannah or simply to enjoy the food—I couldn’t tell which! By 2 PM, though, I was practically fainting from the heat, and I laid in bed sweating and half-heartedly fanning myself with a bookmark as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

At 5:30, Savannah and I said our goodbyes to our host mother (our host father had left long before to head to the beach) and hightailed it down to the bus waiting to transport us to our next and final homestay destination—Langa.

A few words about the little information I know so far about Langa. Langa is the oldest and the smallest black township in Cape Town. Back during apartheid, racial segregation of housing led to the displacement of millions of non-white South Africans, and townships were created to house these men, women, and children outside of city centers. Though apartheid is legally over, its legacy as far as spatial segregation lives on in that numerous families have continued to reside in their designated townships. Langa has a bad reputation in the city. When conversing with Cape Townians in the city center, they’d always get a rather horrified, worried look on their faces when we informed them of our homestay. We’d reassure them that we’d be with homestay families and that we’d been well-versed in necessary measures, and they’d resignedly but still anxiously impart us with the well-meaning advice of “Stay safe.”

All of this build-up led to a bit of anxiety as we rode in the bus to the township. We turned left off of the freeway into the neighborhood, and I scanned the streets incessantly, hoping to intake all of the visual information that I could. Little kids ran along the sidewalks and played games, stray dogs (that looked nice and well-fed!) nosed through grass on empty lots, and numerous city centers brightly and proudly proclaimed services. We pulled into Lovelife Center, the location of our classes for the next two weeks. We were ushered into a main room with chairs and drums and were treated to an uplifting, hand-clapping, smile-inducing musical performance with traditional South African and Zimbabwean instruments. It was truly so fun and joyful and alleviated a lot of my worries about Langa (as I’m sure it was meant to).

I also realized a few things about my community while sitting there in that room as it reverberated with music and good-natured laughs. First of all, thank god for Jenn. I think we exchanged like 10 words over the span of an hour and still managed to communicate five worries, three secrets, numerous inside jokes, and summer plans through finishing each other’s sentences, communicative looks, and small nudges. She’s one of the handful of lifelong friends that I’ve made on this program. And as I looked around the room, at the faces of about half of my peers, I felt so warm and fuzzy and excited to enjoy these last few weeks of travelling and decades of memories with them. The other half… It was strange. I’d spent the same amount of time in classes with them and had afforded them the same opportunities to befriend as I had the other men and women with whom I feel so close. And yet… I felt, if not outright dislike, at least a sort of ambivalence toward them. And guess what—I think that’s okay. I think that’s good. I’m glad I haven’t just allowed myself to follow the sway of noncommittal friendliness and instead really sought out individuals with whom I can laugh and enjoy myself and feel comfortable and candid. I think that the strength of my feelings (both positive and negative) are signs that I’m asserting myself in the right way and that I’m finding the right people with whom to surround myself. Yay Aubs!

Dorothy (my new homestay partner) and I followed our homestay mom and her granddaughter back to the house around 7 PM, following the conclusion of the welcome ceremony. I about passed out carrying my gigantic body bag through the streets of Langa, and my hips were literally aching by the time we breathlessly pushed through the door of the house. We quickly set our stuff in our rooms, then enjoyed a fantastic dinner with the aforementioned two family members and our home stay sister while watching “Our Perfect Wedding.” I already love having Dorothy as a home stay partner, because she’s so kindly straightforward and talkative and interesting that she engages our homestay family while I can sit and listen and try to get over my intial shyness. She is also fab to talk to, and we have a similar love for books, so I think that there will be many a silent nights of just reading in our room.

I have some initial feelings about Langa that I could share, but I’d rather give it at least a full day before I make any judgments, either good or bad or what have you. It’d be too weird to make any statements about a neighborhood when I’ve been here less than four hours and not even in daylight!
So, I bid you adieu, and I hope you had as wonderful a weekend as I did!

Much love,
Aubrey

Culture, Climbing, Coffee

(From April 3)

A packed, educational, beautiful, relaxed weekend—not a combination of adjectives often uttered in sequence, especially on an IHP program. Yet, Cape Town provided the perfect set of activities to compose two days that allowed for a wonderful intro to the city.

            I woke up (sadly) to an alarm on Saturday morning, a necessity in meeting with my Neighborhood Day group in order to figure out our presentation. Savannah and I schlepped down our hill around 10 AM in order to meet with our other group members and cobble together a coherent idea. We ended up settling down at a WiFi-generous location called Honest Chocolate Café, at which I was surprisingly able to refrain from buying any merchandise. Of course, I literally still had Nutella on my mouth from my breakfast sandwich which Jenn literally had to point out about a half hour into our meeting, so my restraint isn’t actually that commendable. Admittedly, I was pretty distracted during this meeting by my first WiFi access in about twenty-four hours, and the inundation of Snapchat and Facebook notifications was mesmerizing. I nailed down my part of the presentation, though, and Jenn and I headed out of the café around noon in order to begin our real weekend.

            We walked to the Slave Lodge, a museum dedicated to the history of slavery in South Africa and Cape Town in particular. I was actually really surprised by this; I had been completely unaware that slavery existed in such a reaching form in South Africa. It wasn’t actually abolished here until 1834, and its history here in Cape Town had been relatively ignored and its victims unrecognized for over a century. The Slave Lodge museum did a really commendable job at paying homage to the slaves here in Cape Town, their contributions to the city’s culture, and to the immense hardships they faced. Saying I “enjoyed” the museum sounds a little weird, but I learned a lot and was very humbled by the information.

            Jenn’s friend from school, Sarah, met up with us and gave us some insider knowledge on the city gained from half a semester studying abroad here. It was fun to watch her and Jenn interact and talk about people and places from back in the US—it made me excited to reunite with all of my friends and family and attempt to explain the experiences that I’ve had!! We ate at a cute little café with outdoor picnic tables and a delicious burger (not as good as the one in Rio, but will any burger ever be as delectable?). When I tried to order coffee at the restaurant, they explained that the region had been having so much trouble with the water pressure that they actually weren’t able to make coffee. Literally, whaaat? My mind began to race with hypotheses of these ramifications, and how it mirrored the water crisis in Sao Paulo, and whether people living further from the city were also having these issues, and how climate change may or may not be responsible. I guess you could say this program has changed the way I think, as three months ago, my reaction would have been “f*ck it, I’m going to Starbucks.” So, I mean, that’s good.

            After lunch, we wandered into a really cool, artsy market, reminiscent of those in India and Istanbul, in which I spent literally every cent of cash that I had on me. Woops. Bargaining is a little stressful here in that if you try hard enough, you can probably get them down to a third of the price they originally quote. As I’ve established, I am such a bad bargainer, it’s embarrassing, so I probably pay WAY too much for everything that I buy. Oh well—it looks too cool to pass up!

            I got back home in the late afternoon and promptly took a nap, because that’s what I do. Savannah and my homestay parents departed for different evening venues, so I had the house to myself. I organized my suitcase, watched Night at the Museum (crazy Saturday night, wooo!), and ate a delicious dinner.

            It’s so hard to describe the food here, but I’ll attempt. I also don’t know how representative of South African cuisine my homestay’s food is, but it’s delicious and interesting. It’s like a mix of Indian food and American South food. One night, for example, we had crispy, finger-licking fried chicken and creamed corn; tonight, I had a curried beef with roti. Food tends to be really savory, and I’ve had some great, fresh veggies and fruits. Tea seems to be really popular here (probably a British holdover), and there are KFC’s—yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken’s—on literally EVERY corner. It’s like more common than Subway or Starbs in the US. So hilarious. I’m eating more healthily here than I did in either Brazil or India, which is a nice change. Meals here leave me feeling a little lighter, less bloated, and less exhausted, which is great!

            After my wild Saturday (woohoo, Ben Stiller!), I woke up early (aka 7 AM) to meet up with Izzy and Jenn for a hike up Table Mountain, one of the seven natural wonders of the world. We weren’t quite sure how to actually get to the mountain, so we stopped at a nearby Hilton Hotel’s concierge for directions. Serendipitously, a tourist from DC just so happened to be departing in a taxi for Table Mountain at that moment, so we hopped in the car with him!!! He graciously paid for the ride, saying “you’re college students—I remember those days.” We were obviously off to a great start.

            After a few false starts in attempting to find the trail, we began the trek up the mountainside—and boy, was it treacherous. We were literally rock climbing—as in, using our hands and feet to clamber up these giant, practically vertical boulders. After a few minutes, I was too exhausted to be scared, but we took numerous breaks in order to catch our breath and appreciate the increasingly stunning views. I don’t know how tall this mountain was, and I don’t have WiFi to find out, but both Izzy and Jenn are college athletes, and it took us two and a half hours to get up this freaking mountain. At times, I literally looked straight up, 90 degree angle, and felt positive, with a sinking feeling, that there was no way in hell I’d be able to reach the top. But guess what—WE DID IT. I honestly was so proud of us, and felt super gratified and rewarded once looking out over the sweeping vistas of Cape Town. We ate lunch at a touristy but fun restaurant on the top of the mountain, took numerous pictures at what felt like the peak of the world, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. It was truly beautiful—company, views, and the endorphins of physical activity converged in a single moment. ILY Jenn and Iz!

            We took a five-minute gondola back down the mountain, and were kind of amazed at the difference in experience between hiking and gondola-riding. We agreed that hiking, while utterly exhausting, was so much more rewarding!!!

            Back to Bo’kaap we went, and back to napping I went. Duh. I met up with Jenn and Eli in a city-wide search for WiFi—surprisingly, almost all cafes and shops are either completely closed on Sundays or shuttered up early in the afternoon, so we were pretty desperate in our search. Eli and I finally settled upon a new-age Irish pub thing, and my WiFi was actually good enough to videochat with my parents for the first time in about a week!!! I cried a little bit talking to my dad, but recovered quickly. I’ll be seriously stoked to see them again. Only question is whether I’ll cry a lot or a lot when I land at Long Beach Airport.

            Wow, I am currently exhausted—I guess hiking up five vertical miles can do that to a girl whose daily exercise has become shoveling ice cream into her mouth! (Half kidding.) I’ve spent the night reading my captivating novel, working on my term paper of 3,000 words (which is lol-worthy, considering one of my finals this past semester was to write TWO 3,000 word essays in the span of eight hours for a law school course), having heart-to-hearts with my fab roomie, and drinking cup after cup of scrumptious coffee. Feels like I’ll be able to get to sleep pretty easily, though, as my eyes are fluttering shut on their own volition. So, goodnight, dear readers, and I hope your weekend treated you as well as mine did me.

Peace, love, naps,

Aubrey

PS—I got a fab room back at school—thx for all of the crossed fingers!!!

Cultural Weekend and a Sobering Monday

Gosh, have I truly only been here in Brazil for a week? It feels like forever in the best possible way. I've enjoyed numerous encounters with the culture of this city; I've savored the food and the people; I've learned about the history, the art, and the problems of the city; and I've come to appreciate the beautiful, compassionate, lively, whole-heartedly wonderful spirit of Paulistas.

Saturday night, Samantha and I met five other friends for a soccer game!! Attend a soccer game in Brazil... What an experience to check off the bucket list. We cheered for the Corinthians, a Sao Paulo-based team, as they played against someone else (don't remember their name) with the colors red and green. In a hilarious and slightly frightening intro to the craziness that is Brazilian futbol, an armed and armoured cop (of which there were plenty at the game) warned Sally that she could not sit on the Corinthians side. This was because her dress was almost sort of dark forest green and would potentially get her beat up--even though she was literally wearing a Corinthians flag as a cape. Upon showing the cop her flag, he very hesitantly gave her the go-ahead.

what did we get ourselves into

Despite the slightly nerve-wracking beginning to our futbol experience, it was literally one of theeee most fun games to which I've ever been!!!

Vai Corinthians!!!

potentially spent more time looking at the camera than at the field

I couldn't really figure out which team I was supposed to cheer for, so at every moment of potential scoring, I had to constantly inquire,

because I REALLY didn't want to get beaten up.

Our team ended up winning two minutes into overtime 1-0, which was SO cool. Our ride on the metro home was impressively smooth, easy, and efficient. I fell in love with another part of Brazil on that fantastic subway. That's how dorky/nerdy my affection for this country is.

me to Brazil

Sam and I woke up super late on Sunday, relaxed and content. Sally met up with us to walk to a cool museum called the Museum of Image and Sound. It was about thirty minutes away, and we walked through a beautiful neighborhood on a beautiful day. It was lovely.

me frolicking down the street

The museum ended up having limited opportunities for non-Portuguese speakers, but Sam and I did well enough with our rudimentary Spanish to understand some of the exhibits' descriptions. We wandered into a random outdoor market next door to admire some stunning craftsmanship, including turquoise jewelry, azul vases, and wildly revolting seats made of actual fur and hooves (eep). We then decided to walk about a half hour more to a really sick street art location, but by this point I thought I was dying of hunger, so my hangry walk was more like--

A heaping cone of gelato cheered me right up, though. 

We strolled through this cemetery with graves dating back to birth-dates of 1885, which fascinated me. Cemeteries really intrigue me, and something about examining the names and years on graves saddens me (because death) and gives hope to me (because there is power and compassion in sparing a few moments to recognize another's life, even if he or she has died long ago). 

From the cemetery, in which we had to deftly avoid embracing couples, we arrived at Beco do Batman, an incredible alleyway full of graffiti.

black and white

color!!!

my favorite piece of artwork in the alley

Sally, Sam, and I really enjoyed gazing at the gorgeous works and taking tons of pictures.

(It's getting late, and I'm getting excited, so I'm gonna speed this up)

From the alley, Sally and I took a taxi to Angelica's Grill, an all-you-can-eat churrascaria, which is like a barbecue place. Have you ever seen Bridesmaids?

 

This scene takes place at a churrascaria. LUCKILY, our night did not end in--

But we did stuff ourselves with tons of incredible meats and salads and cheese. Our excitement every time that a new meat arrived at our table--

literally

Cracked up our servers, and they legit began to mock us every time they passed our table. They'd say "oh my god!!!" and "yay!!!!" in super exaggerated American accents in a really high, girly voice.

It was too funny to be angry; plus, we were, like, really really excited.

Sally returned to my house and we booked the sickest spring break EVER. Five days at one of the best beach locations in the world/one of the Wonders of the World, then two and a half days at one of the Natural Wonders of the World, all for under $500. I mean like yeah, sounds good to me.

It legit took two hours to book this sh*t though, because the airline website was a fiasco.

However, after numerous attempts of trying to convince a computer system that I am not in fact Brazilian and that yes I do have a valid zipcode and a few moments of--

I  booked tickets for myself, Sally, and Jenn. WAHOO.

This morning was Monday morning, which, even in South America, is

BUT the prospect of Neighborhood Day definitely brightened the idea of Monday. I ended up being sorted into a group with tons of my favorite people and we visited the neighborhood of Bom Retiro, a site in Sao Paulo known for its immigration, culture, and its identity as a cracolandia--or literally, a "land of crack."

Yes, crack. Like, crack cocaine.

We were treated to the delightful views of people literally smoking crack cocaine in broad daylight, only feet away from armed police officers. I have never before in my life been in a place or situation like that. It was shocking and a little scary and really uncomfortable. But, it's important to see these things, to get a glimpse of what daily life can look like for some people, to understand the disastrous problems and addictions rotting out society. Perhaps the most alarming sight was the high school literally around the corner from the drug-trafficking site. It actually sickened me to hear from our guide that "the first two times" trying crack cocaine in school bathrooms are free--they hook young children and ruin their lives. Well, assist in ruining their lives--I'm not going to disregard personal agency in this case. But still. Breathtaking in a bad way.

Towards evening, as we prepared to head back home, a few group members decided they wanted to speak to some policemen in cracolandia about the cops' inactivity and hands-off approach. Our guide heavily warned against it, saying she thought it was an extremely terrible idea for us to return to the area.

My thought process: hmmm... a native warning us against chatting with potentially corrupt policemen in an area riddled with drug addicts at dark in a country in which I do not speak the language nor understand cultural norms nor have internet.

Their thought process: it'll be fine!!!!

So, as the majority of the group made plans to venture back into crack land, I pulled a--

and took a subway back home. They returned safely but I remain happy with my safe, boring, vanilla decision.

Tonight at dinner, I downed a few cups of coffee, anticipating a long night of reading class assignments and writing this blog. I sat in bed, multi-tasking (aka watching Fuller House and Eat, Pray, Love, surfing Buzzfeed, chatting with Sam, and writing a thing or two down in my notebook), and, for the first time on this program, I felt so... college. Hyped on coffee after 9 PM, discussing current events and our days with a roommate, finishing classwork, unwinding to some Netflix... It felt familiar, It felt comfortable. It felt like home. And, after months of feeling alien and lonely and overwhelmed and upset, "home" (even if it's about twenty degrees warmer with slightly more chance of contracting a deadly mosquito-born disease) feels nice. It feels good.

I am honestly happier than I've been in the past two months--the weather, the excitement of the city, my deepening friendships, my ability to contact my family, my anticipation for the dozens of fun activities coming up.... They are all invigorating and refreshing and rejuvenating me. I feel like a new and improved Aubs. God, I am so happy.

Thankful beyond words,
Aubrey

Getting to Know the City

What a wonderfully wild whirlwind of three days. I will probably have to make this pretty short, because I'll be heading out very soon for a futbol game, wahoo!!!

Thursday involved a deliciously exhausting jog (in which we didn't get lost ONCE) and a long day of classes (about six hours). HOWEVER, the end of the day was actually super fun--our advisor surprised us with a Brazilian dance lesson with two amazing professional dancers!

We learned Samba, which I pretended I was really good at--

what I thought I looked like on left, what I really looked like on right

We also learned this fab dance that one of my peers called "Soulja Boy on crack," a rather apt description. It's this choreographed dance to a super popular song that is a summer fad (it's summer in Brazil right now!!! #southernhemisphere) Unfortunately, I have literally no idea what the name of the song is, and even when I hear it and excitedly ask a Brazilian the name, they reply so quickly and with such Portuguese flourish that I'm like--

I don't understand what you just said???

Alas, I must listen to the random snatches of the song that I hear walking on the street and just try to bust out my moves on the sidewalk. 

After the dance lesson, a few of us went to a nearby bar to celebrate Thursday with a traditional Brazilian drink called the caipirinha. Apparently, these sugar-alcohol-based drinks are v dangerous, because they're so sweet that you can't even notice how strong they are. All I know is that after half of one, I very willingly lost a round of "Odds Are" (a dare game that is very fun) and twerked on a wall for about 10 seconds. It was an experience.

pre-twerking, still happy and fresh-faced

We were all supposed to go out to a bar as a group that night, but I pled out, desperate for sleep. #boringAubs

Friday (TGIF) involved 8 (yes, 8) hours of class (okay, there was a lunch break, but still). Incredibly long day. Sam and I were almost late to class because our 15-minute breakfast turned into an hour-long breakfast in which we stuffed ourselves with coffee cake, fruit, toast, and mortadella sandwiches (okay, that last one was just me, because Sam is vegetarian). Totally worth it, though. I eat about twice as much as I should every single meal, tbh.

Class rocked, but during a lecture on immigration into Brazil, I found myself incredibly aware of my Californian-ness for the 1832019430243972nd time since entering college. My professor commented that the Chinese immigrated in droves into Brazil and she off-handedly threw in that "maybe" some went to the US as well. 

Maybe?

Maybe?

Hello??? Gold Rush in California??? The fact that Chinese immigrants, enduring tragic harassment, abuse, and discrimination, built the entire transcontinental railroad and established themselves as incredibly successful citizens of the United States despite the prejudice and hardships facing them? Does Chinatown ring a bell??? Reduced to a "maybe."

People are incredibly ignorant of Californian history, and West Coast history in general, which is shocking to me, considering I spent my entire childhood learning about the establishment of missions, the California Gold Rush, Native American tribes occupying the West Coast, immigration into Northern California, etc. etc. I remember that my class on the History of American Capitalism freshman year spent two hours covering the French fur trade in the 16th century, while reducing the Gold Rush to a single bullet point in passing. Like yah k makes sense (not). Anyways, as a history major and die-hard Californian, I think I'll spend practically my entire life trying to prove to people that California is worth learning about (considering we contribute hella culture/money/awesomeness to American and global society) and worth loving.

Ugh such a random side-note, especially when I'm leaving for this game, like, five minutes ago, but I needed to reaffirm my love for the best coast.

forever, babe.

I actually also led a class discussion on Friday, which was extremely nerve-wracking considering the touchy subject and the passionate beliefs of many of my peers, but I couldn't help but insert a (perhaps naively) optimistic note into my conclusion. We were discussing all these problems that we've seen in the United States, India, and Brazil, and we all noticed that they overlapped a ton. Issues of class, problems with race and racism, seemed not identical but highly similar across the continents and cultures. Yes, these are global problems, but I argue that this may mean there are global solutions. I got super excited about the potential for gradual improvement around the world on these crazy complex challenges facing so many people that often seem impossible to solve. Who knows, maybe I can one day help in some way to improve something somewhere. (Hint: broad goals are the easiest ones to achieve.) Really though, the toughest and thorniest issues are the hardest but most satisfying to solve. And I truly believe that it's possible..

encouragement

Post-discussion, Sally and I enjoyed two (yes, two) consecutive lunches then returned to class for a super fascinating panel on urban justice. Post-class, it was the weekend (woohoo!!!) and I got super stoked for the imminent pregame and club scene that night. 

But of course, in true Aubrey fashion, by 9 PM, I was like--

Kind of embarrassing, but like also, come on. That's just me. I didn't go out a single time in Israel, and I really don't regret it at all. Clubbing is just really, really, really not my thing. I've definitely conquered quite a bit of my social anxiety back at school (I'm practically queen of the PSK) (JK, pls don't blackball me because I said that) (love you guys the most), but random parties in random cities still make me hyperventilate. So, I will absolutely enjoy Sao Paulo nightlife for at least a few nights while I'm here.... But I'm also not gonna put myself in situations that make me super uncomfortable just for the sake of saying I went out. I think I've learned better than that over the past few years. Is this what maturity is like? EW.

potentially

I especially appreciated my decision after hearing that my friends were out until 5:30 in the morning.

literally me upon hearing this

I swear I had a second-hand panic attack.

This morning, Sam and I went on an awesome walking tour of Sao Paulo with three other friends and really enjoyed ourselves. 

My favorite tidbits: 

-that if you miss the last subway of the night because you've been drinking too much, then keep drinking until 4:40 AM when the first subway of the day comes around!!!

-the municipal library has an incredible large-scale artistic piece on the sidewalk in front of it. Using hundreds of small tiles in the actual concrete, the artist spelled out "library" in dozens of different languages!!!

-the Se Cathedral is one of the largest Neo-Gothic cathedrals in the entire world.

-the tallest building in the entire city of Sao Paulo is a really ugly office building that isn't open to the public--until now!!! Heineken is holding a lottery-style raffle that will allow select individuals to drink on the top floor. WOAH!

Here are a few pics from the tour:

the Municipal Theatre--beautiful building!

Se Cathedral!

A gigantic street market

Anyways, I'm about to be late for the awesome soccer game that we are attending tonight, so I must sign off--but I'm so loving Sao Paulo. I am already planning my next visit to Brazil, and I still have four weeks left here!! Fantastically refreshed, super excited, and incredibly grateful for this experience.

Love to you all,

AUBREY

Savoring Sao Paulo

Oh my gosh—I can’t believe it’s only been about 48 hours since my previous blog post! It kind of feels like I’ve been in Sao Paulo for a lifetime, and India feels years away. Before I even get into my incredible day and a half that I’ve had in Sao Paulo, I’d love to echo a sentiment that my new homestay partner, Samantha, made about being in Brazil after India. She commented that our time here (even though it’s been short thus far) has already begun to color her recollection of India and how she perceives her experiences in Ahmedabad.

I couldn’t agree more.

It seems that all of us have already begun to compare, to relate back, and to compartmentalize; half of our sentences begin with, “well, in India,” or “remember how in India?” I can’t decide if this is good or bad. I think drawing comparisons can be helpful in contextualizing perceptions, and it’s nice to share our common experiences and build on them, but what does it mean for my recollection of India if I talk about how much more I love the humidity and lushness here in comparison to the dryness and dustiness of Ahmedabad, or if I relish the paved sidewalks and convenience of non-bucket showers? I have barely been afforded the time to sift through and cement my impressions of India, and I am already forming new memories and putting them into direct competition with those of the last month. Seems kind of unfair, kind of dangerous—but also really exciting.

BUT ANYWAYS—that’s enough seriousness for now. Great news—I have the internet for GIF’s again!!!

I know!! Way less of my boring words, way more laughs and visuals.

Picking up from where my last blog left off. We left the hotel around 12 PM to get our first full Brazilian lunch. And oh my god—it was unreal.

Beef, salads, sushi (SUSHI!!!) all arranged in a beautiful buffet. The plate was weighed in order to assign a price, and we paid at the end of the meal. It was freaking amazing. We also had a quick orientation to the program and were told our homestay partners, which was v exciting. On our walk back, I embraced the humidity and heat and green of the city like I was in paradise.

#praise

I had missed plants and nature so much, and while I wasn’t really expecting it, foliage encroaches every street in Sao Paulo. I guess that could be the rainforest influence, right? But I’m not questioning it, I’m just savoring it.

me every other second

Samantha (my homestay partner) and I were picked up from the hotel with our bags by our new homestay mom. I don’t want to say I packed a lot, but this might be an accurate portrayal of my packing habits.

Woops. I just have a lot of baggage, okay?

I loved (loved) chatting with my home stay mom, Maria, on our drive to our new home. She pointed out numerous shops, pubs, and theaters along the ride, giving tips about places to go and eat. In one of those moments of what may be an unfair comparison to my Indian experience, I realized how beneficial it is to have a local with whom you can communicate about the city. I definitely felt close in a way to Shamim, my Indian host mom, but it makes me sad that I missed out on the fulfilment of experiencing Ahmedabad with someone who actually knew the place. (But I don’t think any family will ever compare to the OG [aka original] home stay fam—hollah @ the Morrises!!)

Our apartment sits at the top of a small hill, surrounded by other tall buildings and the quaint villa of Sally’s home stay family. (!!!yay!) Our host mom led us to the top floor (omg) of the 18-story building (OMG) with literally the. most. stellar view.

LOOK!!!!

WOW. WOW. I feel like an urban Rapunzel, or some romantic-tragic figure in a city-set drama.

literally how I picture myself

I’m living in a penthouse overlooking the largest city of the Southern Hemisphere. I think that the unbelievable view alone has made me reconsider my absolute refusal to ever live in a city. I sat on the windowsill for like thirty minutes, just staring out into the sunset wistfully and picturing my next *candid* Insta pic from that very spot.

Now, about my family!!! Our mom, Maria, is kind, open, honest, and very motherly. She has three kids: Luigi, a son whom we have not yet met; Lara, a daughter who is currently travelling in Australia and will return in a few weeks; and Liza, a fun, frank, and compassionate mom of a six-month old, Maria!!! The daughter is unbelievably adorable, and I’ve taken ample time to play with her and hold her and make her smile. She’s so cute and well-natured, ugh so much love. There is also another foreign exchange “host brother” in the house named Fumito; he’s a businessman from Japan with whom we’ve had some pretty cool conversations about our travels.

After an unreal dinner of chicken-rice soup (of which I had like four bowls while everyone else had one), chicken with bell peppers, avocado (yes, I cried), pumpkin, rice and beans, etc. etc…. I loved it a ton. The meal felt much more reminiscent of my meals back home, more familiar in its spices and consistency and makeup. In all honesty, I never ate Indian food in the US; it was not really my favorite kind of food. I savored the tastes while I was in India, and there’s also just something really cool and satisfying about eating a region’s food while you’re actually there, but I definitely stuff myself with Brazilian food, whereas I tentatively and delicately ate last month.

me in India

me in Brazil

After dinner, Sam and I figured it was the appropriate time to breathlessly ask for the WiFi password. WIFI AT HOME, what a concept!!! After a month of momentary stolen glances at Facebook and Snapchat, I’m reentering popular culture like,

damn Daniel? white vans? what???

I was indulging myself with the wonders of the Internet when all of a sudden, a commotion arose outside the window. Samantha, Fumito, and I looked at each other inquisitively, then opened the living room window. Numerous neighbors were hanging out of the windows, banging pots of pans, flickering their lights, shouting aggressively in Portuguese. Honks reverberated from the streets, fireworks went off from below, and the flashing of lights could be seen in buildings miles away.

We stood there for five minutes, wondering if it a soccer game had been won, or if a spontaneous protest had taken place, when all of a sudden our host sister Liza abruptly came to the window and, with a brisk “excuse me,” began banging two pot lids.

Shocked, we asked her what was happening. “Our president is speaking,” she responded primly, “we don’t like her.”

OH MY GOD. OH. MY GOD. I felt my arm hairs stand on end, I got the chills, I felt almost giddy. HOW FREAKING COOL is this method of social protest!!!!!!!??????? It felt so communal, so metaphorical and symbolic, and so peaceful a way of expressing distaste. I don’t know exactly why it so titillated my passion for politics, but something about it absolutely enthralled me. Today, we learned that it is specifically called a “Panellasou,” or a “cooking pot fest,” and it has problematic origins, but for some reason, I found myself astounded. It must have lasted for about ten full minutes, and I sat mesmerized in front of the window for its entirety. Fascinating.

My sleep was sort of interrupted by the steamy heat of our bedroom (no fan or AC) and my disruptive jet lag, so Samantha and I woke up pretty early to go for a jog.

Ahhhh, jogging. I missed you so.

FIRST, though, we ate literally my dream breakfast (sorry I keep talking about food, I’m just in love with eating). We ate bread, fresh fruit, and coffee cake with copious amounts of coffee. Like ya, okay, twist my arm. We then met our neighbor, who will hopefully reappear in future blog posts, if ya catch my drift.

We took the elevator downstairs and found that in order to exit the complex, we had to get through this legitimately impenetrable gate. We wandered to a little guard hut and asked (in English) how to get out. He looked at us kind of pathetically and shook his head.

“Espanol!!??” we asked excitedly. “Un poquito,” he said hesitantly. Samantha and I then looked at each other, waiting for the other to whip out some Spanish knowledge.

“Como…” Samantha began, and all of a sudden, this super athletic beautiful woman came up and asked, “Need some help?’

She conversed with the guard and he buzzed us out, and we thanked our first guardian angel of the day.

We decided to run for about eight minutes then just turn back the way we had come after that time. Only problem—we took a few too many twists and turns, and when my alarm signaled our halfway mark, we kind of stood there like—

Ummmm…. Woops.

We started to wander in the general direction in which we thought our apartment was, and, after about thirty minutes of strolling through delightfully artsy streets filled with quaint and stylish shops and restaurants, WE FOUND OUR STREET.

I won’t say I was worried, but like….

It was good to be back.

We got ready pretty hurriedly, because we were meeting Sally and Maria for a visit to a museum. Unfortunately, time slipped away from us, and we ended up not having time to go before class (Strike 1). BUT I did get to meet a few dogs and play fetch, so that made my day.

We ate our disappointment and scarfed down some sushi, which was legit unreal. I may have already written this, but Brazil has the second-largest Japanese population in the world, preceded only by Japan. So the sushi was pretty lit.

  

Class came next, and every single person was practically bouncing with a newfound energy. The transition to a new city had invigorated all of us, and we conversed and discussed with an unforeseen excitement and passion. We learned some introductory Portuguese, which looks enough like Spanish for me to feel moderately comfortable learning it, and also discussed the complicated and fascinating histories of race and Brazil. I enjoyed every second.

To make up for our lack of cultural stimulation that morning, our group decided to visit an alley with street art close to our homes. Unfortunately, a downpour of pelting rain cancelled our plans (Strike 2) and forced us to seek shelter in a random bus (since we weren’t quite sure which we’d taken to get to school in the morning). Luckily, we’d chosen the correct one… Unluckily, we got out on the wrong stop.

It did give us the opportunity to explore a used bookstore and a restaurant named “California,” which I obv freaked out over.

me @ California

We finally got home at 6:30 PM, just in time for another fab dinner. We then went with our host sister (and her adorable daughter!!!!) to a diner down the street for an unreal Twix pastry. Though Sally, her home stay partners, Samantha, and I had promised each other we would meet up for drinks, we all passed out before 9 PM (Strike 3).

I’m truly loving my experience here already—I feel joyful, adventurous, excited, happy. Perhaps it’s just the euphoria of a new location, but part of me feels like I’ll be visiting Brazil, and all of South America, numerous times in the future. Time to soak in all of its initial wonderfulness for the next four and a half weeks!

Hope you enjoyed my first GIF-laden post after a month of lots of words--thanks for stickin' in there!!!

Bom tarde (good afternoon!),

Aubrey

Ahmedabad, Here We Are.

I don't know what day it is, or what time it's supposed to be, or how exactly I'm going to remember not to rinse my toothbrush under the tap water, but I do know one thing--I'M IN INDIA!

I honestly feel like I've slept away my last two days, because of the dramatic time change and my unfortunate divorce from the sun during the entirety of Monday, January 25. I know that all of the rest will be worth it when I have the energy to explore the city tomorrow!

So, our group clambered onto the most GIGANTIC plane I have ever seen in my entire life at around 11:30 PM on Sunday, January 24th, EST. Seriously, every row held ten seats, and we were in the 82nd row on the first level of the plane! Insanity.

Anyways, I popped a melatonin pill as soon as I settled in and konked out for almost ten full hours (with little meal breaks, of course). We arrived in Dubai, UAE, at 10:30 PM (UAE time), Monday, January 25th. Because of our plane delay, we found ourselves rushing through the Dubai airport in order to reach our connecting flight.

Although many of us had secretly hoped we'd miss our flight so that we'd have the opportunity to explore Dubai, we were all pretty relieved to actually make the flight once we realized how exhausted we were! It was pretty insane--the workers at this airport barely even glanced at my passport as I rushed through security and onto the plane. I wonder if that's the nature of being in a large, relatively "safe" group. Better than being categorized as a 5 on the Israeli "danger" scale of 1-6!!

After a two hour flight, we finally arrived in INDIA!!!! at 3:00 AM local time, Tuesday, January 27th. I essentially lost my Monday!!! We were so disoriented upon our arrival, but the group managed to get through immigration (another stamp, yay!), security, baggage claim, and another security check. Our country coordinators for the program met us at the airport and shepherded us onto a coach bus that would drive us to our hotel.

Driving through the streets of Ahmedabad, India, at 5 AM was absolutely enthralling. I don't think I'll ever get used to or tired of the "newness" of travelling. Whether it's Israel, or Costa Rica, or India, the first drive through a country thrills and enchants. I felt myself soaking in the views of the city with my parched, dry mind; I drank in the sights, scarcely blinking in the fear that I'd miss something.

The world flashed by, with only momentary glances to capture the essence of the city. Shanty-towns of plastic tents set up on medians and in parks, with small fires to warm the slumberers. Newspaper deliverymen sitting cross-legged on the sidewalks, folding their wares in preparation for morning. Dogs (!!!!) roaming the streets in search of food. I couldn't get enough.

We arrived at the hotel around 6 in the morning and divided into rooms of six people each. The hotel is pretty stunning--it's set up suite style with kitchens, bathrooms, and quaint bedrooms in each "room." We decided to stay up for another hour in order to watch the stunning sunrise--

And chow down on a delicious Indian breakfast.

After eating our fill, we promptly went upstairs for a "nap" and slept from 8:45 AM to 3 PM.

It was glorious.

We woke up yawning to some commotion at our door--one of the host family's daughters had come to introduce herself to us and get to know us! Vishma is extremely sweet and is actually going to be Caitlin's host sister--so I'm sure I'll be seeing her all the time.

After another meal of incredible Indian food, Caitlin and I wandered outside to see how beautiful the weather is. Here's a hint--it's perfect. My frozen hell of two weeks has been rewarded with balmy weather in the 80's, and I could not be happier.

We turned the street corner to check out the monkeys about which we'd heard stories. Oh my god--they're huge. Like, not ape size or anything, but definitely the size of a small child. There were about a dozen of them inhabiting the front yard of the home next to our hotel. It was freaking nuts!!! We watched for about two minutes--until some of the monkeys legit started screaming at us and chasing us. I'm not ashamed to say I may have pushed Caitlin towards the monkeys in order to give myself a head start in sprinting away.

If you look closely, you can see that the monkey in the forefront is holding a little baby!

Throughout the day, we saw plenty more wildlife. There were chipmunks that legitimately jumped onto us; cows (COWS) that roam the streets (seriously--they're just walkin' in the road); peacocks; and a multitude of birds. No mosquitos, though--yet!!!

After lunch, we were treated to a beautifully touching welcome ceremony in which we were given a bindi (the red dot on the forehead), a gorgeous floral necklace, and a shower of pink flower petals, after which we lit a scented candle. It was such a stunning way to be welcomed into India and into our first country.

We had about an hour and a half of introductions and question and answer, and then a group of us(of which I am a part) gave an hour-long presentation and discussion on some readings. Yeah--a graded presentation. Sometimes, it can be difficult to remember that I'm technically in class!

After a quick dinner, we all retreated upstairs to get some rest. I, for one, am practically delirious from exhaustion--but honestly, what's new. Tomorrow will be an absolute adventure, as we are exploring the Old City of Ahmedabad. While I'm still slightly in shock and disbelief, it's just beginning to sink in--I'm in INDIA!!!!

Stoked as can be,
Aubrey

PS thanks for getting through my word-dense post--hopefully when I'm less exhausted, I can write posts with way more pics!

Fifty and Food

It's officially my fiftieth post! Wahoo!!

When I began this blog two and a half months ago (to the day, almost), I doubted my ability to keep up with it and maintain regular posts; I've been able to write something at least once every other day. I'm proud of myself!

I love Shabbat, guys. Not just for the holiness or for the reflection, but for the food. 

Oh my goodness, Shabbat food is heavenly, even when I'm eating like a queen when the family is here. But now that I'm on my own... It's a gift from God. See, this is the first time basically ever that I've actually had to make food for myself. At Harvard, I have full meal service, and at home and with my host family, I am spoiled with delicious homemade food/In N Out (miss ya, babe).

But now, I am responsible for my own meals. And yes, the market is right down the street and I could order meals from restaurants that are five minutes away, but I kind of like challenging myself to this game of, "how long can I survive on what is in the fridge?"

My dad always told my sisters and I those "back in my day" stories which usually evoked reactions like this:

and he reminisced on existing on cottage cheese and tuna and ketchup... in one dish...

But now... I'm following in my father's "food"steps. Cutting off the moldy parts of carrots, concocting sauces from balsamic vinaigrette, olive oil, and black pepper--I'm a master.

*Almost* what I look like in the kitchen

I eat my fill, then I wonder how much longer I have until my Shabbat dinner.

It was literally like 11 AM. Shoot

I sat by the clock, like

for hours, yelling at the TV when Army Wives tried to pull some ridiculous deaths on me (how dare you do that to Jeremy? How DARE you?) and finally headed to Goody and Eric's home for a delicious Shabbat with unbelievably hilarious and engaging company. I stuffed my face like

and enjoyed the friends that had gathered in the home. Seriously, I gazed upon the plates and gave a mental hallelujah.

How I looked on the outside:

Yeah, looks great!

How I felt on the inside:

*melts with joy*

Now, after such a delicious and filling meal, I'm laying on the couch with a full belly--

Almost positive that a thief/murderer has been hiding somewhere in the house for the past two days just waiting for me to let my guard down--but I will not, I refuse. Sometimes I hear a creak and think, "This is it. This is how I die." Or I walk into a room--especially the bathroom--and look for the best place to hide if the murderer comes in. I'm a high-functioning adult, I promise. 

Anyways, I'm peacefully enjoying my second-to-last Shabbat here in Israel. Hope you are all enjoying the beginning of your weekend wherever you are in this beautiful world. 

With so much love,

Aubs