Werk, Waddles, and (the Prospect of) Wilderness

(From April 15)

Honestly, on Wednesday morning, when I woke up to prepare for a full two days of school-related observation at a bus terminal, I didn’t expect to have that much fun over the next forty-eight hours. But, IHP always tells us to expect the unexpected, and surely enough, I ended up having one of the best IHP days thus far.

Okay, well, to be truthful, Wednesday was kind of a boring bummer of a day. I loved my group for my transport case study, but sitting and watching trains and buses go by isn’t my cup of tea. We hopped on a train to Bellville Station, the last station on whatever line we were riding, idk. We received some super pertinent information from Protection Services at the station, but I was distracted during the interview by the shocking realization that my wallet was not in my bag.

*GASP*

I was slightly panicking, as both of my debit cards and way too much cash were stuffed into this sunglasses case-turned-wallet, but I tried to breathe deeply and focus on the case study at hand without COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT like I wanted to. I also have this like weird internal karma system involving my possessions that I’m going to try to explain for the first time outside of my own head, so bear with me if it’s nonsensical. I have this theory that at certain moments, I should definitely have lost some important possession due to carelessness/theft/forgetfulness, and so when I check my belongings for my passport/cell phone/wallet, and it is there, I believe that some good karma has like saved me from losing my passport/cell phone/wallet. I always toss a little “thank you” into the cosmos to whichever karmic being has saved my life by watching out for my belongings. So, when my wallet seemed misplaced, I saw it more as a refill of my karmic bank (as I’d used it all up) than as a devastating loss. I took it in stride, called the restaurant at which I’d eaten the day before (wasn’t there), and prayed and hoped with all my might that my wallet would be at home, under my bed.

And guess what.

IT WAS.

Hallelujah, karmic being!! Hopefully the stress and worry and trust in karmic goodness refilled my karmic bank—but from now on, I’ll be obsessively checking my bag for my most precious belongings (just checked right now).

Because of how helpful and informative the workers at Bellville Station were, my group was able to gather all of the necessary facts and craft a PowerPoint presentation by 4 PM, meaning we had an entire free day (on Thursday) to do whatever we so pleased!!

I celebrated the revelation of a daycation with a long nap before a delicious dinner with my host fam and Dorothy. I finished Infinite Jest, almost cried because it was one of the worst conclusions to a book that I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading—I literally can’t even talk about it right now—and then went to sleep, excited to snuggle in bed long past my usual alarm.

Thursday, a day I’d expected to be full of grueling presentation prep, ended up being incredibly relaxing and wonderfully unique. A group of seven (including me!) set out for Simon’s Town, a region far south of Cape Town known for its beautiful beaches full of… PENGUINS! Yes!!! Wild African penguins populate Boulders Beach and waddle in between and around the awed humans of whom they seem to have no fear. Our excitement for the experience of chilling with penguins dimmed slightly as we attempted to finagle an actual way to get to Simon’s Town. We ended up taking a minibus to a train, transferred to another train, then took another minibus to get to the beach. #stress. It took us about two hours, and we were getting cranky and cramped and annoyed by the time we arrived at Boulders Beach for a take-away lunch.

But, all of the aggravation dissipated the second we hobbled down onto the sand and caught a view of the adorable penguins and the breathtaking beach—it was gonna be a great day.

I borrowed Sally’s sports bra and stripped down to my boyshort undies (because fuck the patriarchy, wear what you want) and laid out under the sun, soaking in the rays and listening to Zayn’s new songs and reading an amazing book. I listened to the penguins squawking and waddling, watched the turquoise waves crash over the huge gray boulders, felt the warmth on my skin, and I was happy and at peace. God, I love the beach. When I’m on the sand, when I smell the salt water, when I hear the gulls and absorb the sun, I am home—it doesn’t matter the continent or ocean or season!

Anyway, I totally enjoyed unwinding with my companions, as well as catching up with my mom and dad via videochat enabled by a nearby WiFi connection. Around 5 PM, we packed up and began a long 40-minute walk back to the Simon’s Town station. Lo and behold, though, a random minibus chugged over the hill, and we hailed it with the victorious hoots and hollers of a shipwrecked crew rescued by a passing barge. Our driver even offered to drive us back to Langa for about the price it would have cost for all of us to use disjointed public transportation to return home. Instead, this one driver took us back in a fraction of the time with none of the discomfort, and he dropped us right at our front doors. AMAZING.

Though it was only 7:30 PM, I had just enough energy to drag myself through the doorway of my house, scarf down a delicious fried chicken dinner, and burrow into my blankets for a ten-hour slumber. (Hence, my lack of post yesterday.)

The half-hour case study presentations took up most of this bright and sunny Friday, and my classmates and I sit restlessly in our windowed classroom, antsy for the beginning of what is sure to be an eventful, once-in-a-lifetime weekend. I’m writing this as my professors prepare us for the writing of our final project—a three thousand word paper covering one topic that spans the three cities which we have visited. To put this into context… I usually write at least four different three thousand word papers per final exam period. My paper for my Israeli internship (in which I also spent three months doing research) was about ten thousand words. So, one three thousand word essay, with an entire semester of collecting evidence and observations, is not exactly difficult. Or even stressful. In fact, I’ve already written 1,200 words in snatches of free time that I’ve been able to grab. This blog itself is over a thousand words!!! I think the most difficult part of writing this essay will actually be keeping it under three thousand words!

In just an hour, I’ll be sitting in on a book talk with the incredible Sonwa Ngowa, an educational aide to our class and published author. He’s written two fascinating books, and I can’t wait to listen to his descriptions and explanations of them!

I’ll then head home, per usual, perhaps work on my CA paper, read more of my favorite author (holla @ Michener), then go to sleep in preparation for this weekend.

Because… this weekend is…

MY SAFARI.

YES IT’S TRUE. Caitlin, Sally, and I are going on a safari this weekend!!!!!!! I am so excited I could CRY. In fact, I probably will. If I see a wild elephant… Oh my god, prepare for the waterworks.

So, I’ll get back to paying attention, and bide my time until giraffes and elephants and lions and Michener. WEE.

Love,
Aubrey

Full Circles

(From April 12)

My days in South Africa feel exceptionally, abnormally long. This was the case in Bo’Kaap, which lies in the heart of the City Centre, as we sat in classes from 8:30 AM to 4 PM and attempted to rally our energy, metaphorically slapping our cheeks and jogging in place, trying to fit in one museum, or one glass of wine, before retiring at home, exhausted, by 11 PM.

The story of long days rings even truer here in Langa. I feel as though the past 48 hours have been 480, as though I’ve been here for weeks instead of days. There are a few reasons, I think, for this phenomenon. First, as we wind down our program and celebrate/mourn the “last” class of this, our “last” community building session, our “last” whatever it is, I feel so many different feelings in the span of minutes and moments, it feels as though hours have passed. For instance, in one class yesterday, I felt a rage so potent it brought me to tears, I felt shocked at some revelations, I felt agreement and empathy with individuals with whom I’ve shared no such connection in the past three months… It’s as though my wheel of emotions and impulses has been gaining speed throughout the program and it’s now spinning so fast that I ricochet from glee to anger to sadness with barely enough time to actually register each feeling. So, that’s exhausting. We also have zero—zero—connectivity to WiFi here in Langa, meaning that I have almost nothing to do after class (which now ends at 2:30, of course, now that we are out of the city) except for read, write papers, and nap—all of which I engage myself in fully. I think that what I’m basically trying to get at with all of this rambling is that I can barely remember yesterday morning, so bear with me as I attempt to provide a full recount.

After the fitful sleep that characterizes almost every single first night in a homestay, Dorothy and I woke up to get ready for school. We ate breakfast with our host mom, and she then walked us to school. Along our route, we saw and met up with half of our program members; we all live so close together that our paths converge naturally. I observed my surroundings for the first time in daylight and was struck by its sheer familiarity. It felt like walking along the street in a Los Angeles suburb. The shrubby grass, the low one-story homes, the same open-space and open-air feeling of a neighborhood outside of the city, the kids playing in the street. Strangely, though this is meant to be our most impoverished and potentially difficult homestay site, it feels most like home to me. I think that will be helpful mentally in getting through the parts of staying in Langa that can be emotionally wearing.

As I stated, yesterday’s classes were pretty long and kind of exhausting; it’s hard to sit in the same spot for hours upon end without the distraction of a phone or passed notes. But, I really enjoyed the final lectures by those professors, and my final session of community building with the other twenty-nine students on the program was fun and touching and way less disastrous than past sessions.

Sally, Jenn, Michael, and I decided to explore our neighborhood for a few minutes before going home. We found the train station, some fast food restaurants, and a ShopRite grocery store in which I purchased chocolate and potato chips (aka the cornerstones of a healthy diet). When trying to exit the store, something in my stuffed backpack set off the alarm of the store. First of all, classic me, right? So I zipped open my bag and showed its contents to the completely ambivalent security guard, and he benignly waved me off with barely a glance. I feel like I experience moments of such confusion or weirdness quite often, and I never, I mean never, suffer any consequences from them—probably because I’m a young white woman who looks relatively innocent of pretty much anything. And yeah, obviously I am innocent—I haven’t stolen anything in my life, not counting a Blockbuster gift card that I mistakenly thought was a brochure when I was like six (that’s probs what sent them under, amirite). But how different would these encounters with law officials and authority figures be if I was, say, a black man, just as innocent of any crime but perhaps less believable by the establishment? Situations like this one really make me ponder my privilege a lot.

Anyways, that *traumatic* experience with law enforcement exhausted me, and so the four of us schlepped home, I for a nap. Sally, Michael, and I realized that we are all next-door-neighbors, which is extremely convenient in a neighborhood in which nobody (literally, nobody) can walk outside at night. When Dorothy tentatively asked if we could maybe just sit outside for some fresh air at nighttime, our host mother looked at her like she was out of her mind and emphatically answered, “NO.” Very comforting.

Dorothy and I napped pretty solidly until dinner time (which was so yummy) and shared dessert, Smencils, and commentary on some reality television show with our host family. We retreated to our rooms for a few hours of silent reading time (Dorothy and I are a homestay pair made in heaven) before crashing.

This morning on our way to school, Dorothy and I met a fascinating and super inspiring Langa resident named Lowelo. So six years ago, the shed in which Langa residents deposited their waste burned to the ground, and the city (as far as I can understand) dragged its feet in replacing this shed or providing any viable option for trash collection for this neighborhood. Lowelo and some friends then decided to start their own business in which they’re paid directly by residents and then collect the trash and clean the receptacles every single week. I was so inspired by his initiative and kindness and hard work that I actually wrote a paper on him today! These are the stories I’d never hear were I not actually living in these cities and learning through experience. (Just trying to validate my study abroad experience, don’t mind me.)

Today was a much shorter day—we had a lecture, in which I came up with some pretty sick post-program resolutions that I’m really excited about, and then a panel with some social justice community members. My favorite part of the day, however, was an optional lecture with the head of our country program, Sally Frankental, on the history of Jews in South Africa. Since I jokingly refer to myself as an “honorary Jew” due to my three-month stay in Israel with the Morris family (still my surrogate family, love you guys), I felt like it was my duty (and honestly, my pleasure) to learn about Jewish culture in this country. I sat there enthralled for a full hour and a half; it was probably in my top three favorite lectures of this entire trip, and it was optional, of course. I was super proud of myself when I was the only person able to answer the year of the first Zionist conference in the world (1897) and the leader of the conference (Herzl) due to my day at the Herzl museum with three members of the Morris family back in July (you guys rock). Seriously crazy how worlds collide.

That also reminds me of this morning, as Dorothy and I sat watching the South African news with our host mom. We were each reading the little news bulletins scrolling across the bottom of the screen, and we realized that we could basically understand and/or empathize with every single piece of news! Brazil’s Congress pushes for impeachment—yep, we were there. India condemns five individuals for the desecration of a temple—we studied religious dissent in India for a whole month! And finally, the Gujarati cricket team beat the Punjabi team—Ahmedabad is in Gujarati, and though I don’t understand a single rule of cricket, I know where that state is!!!!!!! I have truly been inspired to become and remain a world citizen because of this program, and that makes me feel absurdly blessed.

After the lecture with Sally, a group of us students headed into the nearby town of Observatory, which is about six subway stops away, for some WiFi connectivity. (Yes, we are desperate.) I went through my 101 emails, about five of which were actually relevant; caught up on Facebook; and talked to my dad on the phone for a solid ten minutes—all good things! I returned home, napped, ate dinner, finished a paper, and then took a shower… Kind of.

So the shower nozzle in my homestay is broken and as a result, we can only take baths. Okay, I’m moderately disgusted by the idea of taking baths, as you’re kind of just sitting in your own filth, and so I’ve been struggling with a way to actually get clean by just kind of splashing water on myself when, finally, I realized today the perfect strategy.

Bucket shower.

Yes, my friends, I found myself a bucket and resumed my Indian habit of showering by pouring water all over my body. As Sally (my best friend, not the coordinator, quipped), I’ve come full circle. And yeah, it’s true. I really have.

From my emotional circle that is wildly out of control, to my non-WiFi life (that I’ve actually come to somewhat appreciate), to my feelings of hope and excitement for the future after a few months of despair and gloom and anxiety, to—yes—bucket showers, I really do feel like I’ve come full circle—but with all of the knowledge and maturity and experience of traversing that entire circle.

Can’t wait to see where I finish up.

tOOdles (two circles, get it),
Aubrey

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

Anarchical Arguments, African Art, and the Deep Blue Sea

(From April 8)

Woah… the last time that I wrote feels so long ago, I barely know how to summarize my life since then. But, I’ll do my best.

So, surprise surprise, I ended up NOT going out on Tuesday night, because, as we already know, I’m lame, and I ended up falling asleep in my bed waiting for a text from Sally, alerting me to the place to meet. My host mom was literally so disappointed in me, she barely looked at me the next day. Lots of shame tbh.

On Wednesday, we split into groups to visit sites revolving around food and food security in the city. I personally saw a small-scale urban farm near Phillipi horticultural land. The farmer was kind of zany… He made a lot of extremely contradictory statements that seemed almost endearing at first but quickly became too problematic for me to respect. I’m sure my disapproval began to come through in a nasty looking frown on my face, but I really couldn’t control it. I spoke with Michael after the visit, and he seemed pretty relieved to find that I had noticed the glaring inconsistencies as well. Often on this program, groupthink can run rampant, and if you’re aware enough to notice that discussions are careening off the path of rationality, it can feel frightening and lonely wondering if you’re the singular person calling for critical thought and adherence to reality. Therefore, I’m finally finding my people, in a sense, that have managed to stay analytical and tethered to real life. Because honestly, this program has begun to remind me a lot of The Bachelor. You know, these girls and this guy come into this completely artificial situation in which they’re jetting around the world, having experiences and meeting people in these completely superficial and irreplicable environments, and then expecting the feelings they develop and the ideologies they espouse to carry back over to real life. But often, they don’t—because we are seeing the fringe of society, a periphal minority (that people call the majority literally all of the time, which is just not true). I’d say half of the guides whom have led me around on various visits readily admit that they commit crimes and engage in illegal activity—and those are the ones that actually just say it. I’m starting to ramble a bit, but I guess that’s just me attempting to reach back out to the rational at home, watching the program unfold and laughing with popcorn at the antics of the crying girls and jetlagged hysteria. God, I can’t wait for the finale.

Anyways, Michael, Eli, and I ended up separating from the main group for lunch and conversed about race and identity and really cool topics that I usually feel to uncomfortable to discuss with people in my class because *see above*. As I spoke and sometimes disagreed with the others, I realized that I’m actually starting to form some pretty sophisticated opinions on the subject and that I’m actually pretty comfortable with the way I see myself and with my own identities. I was worried, because during the first week or so here, I felt so unsure and my identity seemed so fragile; but I’m starting to reconcile the seeming inconsistencies in who I am and to crystallize (quite comfortably!) my own *self*. Yay!

I’m also trying to approach class in a constructive way when I get frustrated. Instead of simply zoning out or unkindly bursting out “WRONG. WRONG WRONG. YOU ARE ALL WRONG,” which could, as you might imagine, be counter-productive, I have returned to my methods of India, in which I absorbed what was being said with (hopefully) an intrigued and kind looking face, then scribbling down and articulating my arguments with certain statements. One of my least favorite things about Harvard (woah sorry big topic change, take a sec to catch up) is that people often think saying “I disagree” or “not in my opinion” is enough to validate their differences from you. But that’s so unproductive and meaningless—if you can’t articulate why you disagree, or if you find that maybe, when you try to think of reasons to defend your own opinion against that of another… Then maybe that’s not actually what you believe. To say you disagree without validation is lazy—it allows you to settle into your rut of formed opinion without ever peeking your head over the side of this whole which you’ve dug for yourself to look for some other ideas which may be even more aligned with your actual beliefs.

WOW long way to say that I refuse to be lazy and I refuse to engage in groupthink, SO my recourse must be to constantly prove to myself why I find my thoughts right and those of my peers incorrect. Constantly. Which must be why I nap for two hours every single day after my nine hours of class. UGH.

But, I got a bit of a mental break yesterday during a site visit to Hout Bay and Hangberg, two of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in Cape Town and honestly the world. A drive around Signal Hill (on which my home in Bo’kaap rests) and to the seaside elicited “wow!’s and cheers from the ten of us in the car. The clear blue water with rocky shores and seaweed peeking out of the waves, winding roads around shrubby hills with breathtaking views, and, in a little bay of a fishing community, bobbing sailboats of varnished red, blue, and green. I was thrilled by the sights. We also got to watch a woman throw bits of fish to a seal, who would do little hops out of the water and twist and turn in order to retrieve the yumminess. She also possessed a tiny, very young puppy—it’d probably just opened its eyes—and I nearly cried while cuddling it to my chest. I miss my dogs so much.

On this visit, which was related to housing, our guide incorporated not only the hard facts of the community but also numerous opportunities to marvel at the nature in the area and enjoy the Cape Townian environment. At one point, after a difficult hike up to a viewpoint overlooking Seal Island (an island literally covered in barking seals!), our guide engaged in a rather somber lecture on the fishermen of the community and the rampant informal settlements. In the middle of his talk, though, he suddenly and calmly interjected, “Oh look, a whale,” and we all turned eagerly to the ocean to watch a whale spout out some water and breach for a second or two. IT WAS THE COOLEST.

Being in such a beautiful place, surrounded by water and mountains with brush and hiking trails reminded me so much of—you guessed it—California. As I get closer to going home (twenty-four days!!!!), I find myself remembering things and missing things that seem unbelievably random. Yesterday, for example, I began to desperately miss this one intersection on La Palma near my hairdresser’s and dear family friend’s home. The people, of course, I miss dreadfully, but yesterday, I missed the literal intersection and the feelings of anticipation and excitement associated with that intersection. Funky, right? I am literally just sooooo homesick and so excited to see home and my family, I can hardly contain it. I swear I’ll appreciate all of them a thousand times more than I already did!!!

Yesterday, after returning home from this housing visit, I quickly changed and dressed up a little then met Sally and Eli for First Thursdays. First Thursdays is a new phenomenon in Cape Town in which on the first Thursday of every month, galleries and museums open up with free admission for late hours. We wandered through art galleries and South African markets and a nearby bar to enjoy the culture and nightlife of the city. I felt very ~cultured~ examining art and appreciating the artists (especially Lisa Littlewort, her work is amazing and exquisite), but the fact that I felt so cultured and mature probably means that I’m usually not… Oh well. I loved slipping into some idea of what I think is cultured. And the artwork was very beautiful.

Today was literally the longest day yet on the program. Class began at 8:30 AM and did not end until after 5 PM. We had only short breaks and a transient lunch during which we had to eat quickly then walk briskly to our visit. I am utterly exhausted and kind of frustrated by the packed schedule to which we’re subjected. I feel unable to absorb all of the information, because I’m just tired after hours and hours of class. It’s hard to pay that much attention!!! Sally and I hit up a free WiFi zone after class, then I ate a quick (and delicious) upon my homecoming, and I passed out on my bed for two hours without the energy to turn the light off.

I was going to edit and finish a paper, as well as skim through some class readings, but maybe I’ll give myself the Friday night off and just lose myself in Infinite Jest until I drift off to sleep. I’ve got a packed and busy and fun weekend coming up—and I can’t wait!!

Kisses,

Aubrey

A Day for Me

(From April 5)

A rough start to the week—but a good one, academically, intellectually, consumer-wise. I have a feeling this will be a shorter blog post, as I’m feeling slightly less inspired and a little less willing to engage with my thoughts than usual.

Yesterday was a regular old Monday. Hours of class and presentation, including an extraordinary presentation by my IHP and Harvard peer, Samantha. I felt like I was learning a lot, my mind was incredibly intellectually stimulated, and I was pretty self-satisfied with my ability to stay mindfully engaged the whole day, even though it took a lot of effort. I visited the Bo’Kaap Museum with Sally after class, a museum dedicated to the evolution of the neighborhood in which we are residing for the remainder of this week. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but I still learned a bit and met a native of New Orleans!

I rested in the house for the remainder of the night, doing homework, reading my book, and watching Shonda Rhimes’s wonderful lineup.

Today involved a really difficult lineup of classes and discussion that left me feeling frustrated, angsty, and isolated. Luckily, I have a friend like Caitlin, with whom I can relax and laugh and simply be without worrying about judgment or sadness. She assisted me as I engaged in some retail therapy at the South African Forever 21 and a nearby market. We also went to a local souvenir shop for some postcards and a liquor store for some wine, which we’d drink during our next experience.

Along with Super Sally, we drove up to the top of Signal Hill, the hill which we visited on the first day of our program. We settled in around an hour before actual sunset and discussed important and intriguing parts of our lives and our experiences. I simply loved enjoying the view, the moment of reflection, the delicious South African wine, the crispness with two people whom I love, appreciate, and respect so deeply. It was wonderful.

Tonight, I may be heading out on the town in order to enjoy Cape Town’s nightlife before retreating into the periphery of Langa township, which is far and isolated from the center of the city. When I told my host mom that I was planning on going out, she literally exclaimed, “finally!!!” This coming from a devout Muslim who abstains completely from alcohol. This makes me think that it really is about time I venture out of my bubble.

So, though there are many things to discuss and think about and reflect upon, I’m giving myself the night off. I’m going to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, because I’ve been wearing myself down, focusing so closely and stressing myself quite unnecessarily. SO tonight is all about Aubs—and I can’t wait!

With love,

Aubrey Noelle

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!!!

C'est La Vie

(From April 1)

Hi there, friendly people!

Happy weekend to you all. Unfortunately, although it is technically the weekend for me since it’s Friday, I still have quite a bit of schoolwork to which I must attend in the next few days, so it’s not a real restful weekend like the ones I’ve had over the past month or so. It’s all part of that commitment to bettering my learning!!! (Which is sounding much less attractive now that I have to put together a group presentation on a Saturday morning…)

The past few days have been packed with lectures on the history and economics of Cape Town and South Africa as a whole. They’ve been utterly fascinating, and the caliber of our lectures is out of this world. Many of them have been advisors to the UN, and one of the lecturers showed us a graph integral to the understanding of the economics of Cape Town—and he was one of the contributors to the study! Learning from the forefront experts in the fields about which we are learning really enriches our academic experiences. So that’s pretty cool!

I got smashed by a wave of homesickness yesterday while texting my mom. She was comforting me about some issues about which I don’t even feel like thinking about right now, and she made me feel so much better, but not being able to hear her voice and realizing that I couldn’t just run into her arms and make her give me a hug brought tears to my eyes. I’m excited to go home.

After taking an hour long nap yesterday then bidding adieu around 9 PM to go to sleep, my host mother appraised me with slitted eyes. “You like to sleep a lot, don’t you,” she ventured. I confirmed the statement. “I could tell,” she responded, with a little bit of sass. Another host mom disappointed in my lack of raginess. Well, I suppose that’s just me. C’est la vie.

My long ten-hour sleep that I thought would completely defeat the jetlag still felt much too short. I woke up groggily to my 7:10 AM alarm then attempted to sound chipper when my host father rapped on the door to ensure we were getting ready. We ate a quick breakfast of Kellogg cornflakes (reminded me of India) and some fruit, then got on our way.

A little bit about Cape Town and where I’m staying, etc.

Cape Town’s weather resembles Southern California’s quite a bit. It’s a little bit wetter, honestly, but it’s currently fall here, and it’s in the 60’s—perfectly balmy. Never thought I’d say this (literally never), but it’s kind of nice to wear a jacket again! I’m living on the base of Signal Hill, which is a hill (duh) that makes up the eastern border of the Cape Bowl. I look out onto Table Mountain (v famous) and Lion’s Head, a mountain that looks vaguely like the profile of a lioness. Behind Signal Hill is the more rounded bay of Cape Town with the oval-shaped stadium that was built for the 2010 World Cup and is probably more recognizable from pictures. When I first saw the Bowl, I was slightly jarred, as it seemed more cosmopolitan and less nature-y than I’d imagined. I think that’s because the other side of Signal Hill is what I’ve been picturing, so I’m excited to explore that, too. I have a fabulous view from my homestay’s balcony and look out over the entire Bowl, which lights up at night and sparkles in the darkness. I also loved that today, as soon as I rounded the corner of my building and started down the outdoor flight of stairs, I smelled a fresh ocean breeze. I stopped in my tracks (to the slight confusion of Savannah, my roommate) and spread my arms wide and savored being back next to a big salty body of water. EEP LOVE IT.

To get from my homestay to my classroom, we walk straight down a massive hill, past some beautifully cheery, brightly colored homes that have come to symbolize Bo’Kaap neighborhood (look it up—they’re so pretty!). We walk past numerous restaurants, cultural centers, museums, and business places to get to class, which means we get to observe the city center of Cape Town at its busiest and most “real” every day. That’s pretty cool. I’ve already created a list of things I’m dying to see and do before I leave—and I only have four weeks left!!!

Okay, back to my day. Neighborhood Day, one of my favorite parts of this program, was today, which means we visit a small patch of the city and explore it to learn about its history, population, and lifestyle. I went with a group of five to Claremont, which is really close to the city center and has a hip college town vibe with yoga studios, stylish (and cheap!!!) clothing stores, and delicious food. I had to be dragged away from the Forever 21-type establishments before I cleaned out my bank account. Upon returning to Bo’Kaap, I ate a delicious dinner of fried chicken and konked out for a two-hour nap.

A bunch of friends are going out tonight because it’s Friday woohoo!!! But I’m conserving my energy for a weekend full of activities and sight-seeing and physical activity. Time to snuggle into bed with Infinite Jest—and maybe a class reading or two—then get to sleep.

Small detour for a second, because the inability to access WiFi and therefore anything on my phone besides my camera has pushed me to engage in the most desperate of mobile activities: flipping through my old photos. I think about who I was in April of last year (happy April!), and I realize that I’ve been out of the country, pretty independently, for five of the last twelve months. I’ve seen three Wonders of the World, I’ve traversed five different continents, I’ve forayed through nine different countries… And I’ve changed. A lot. I’ve left people behind as I’ve outgrown them, and my burgeoning maturity (don’t laugh at that, Mom) and my strengthening self-esteem have allowed me to recognize the differences between a true friend and an abuser of my generosity. And so the ones that I have decided to shed, due to differing levels of kindness, worldliness, and empathy, give me no qualms, and I spare only a fleeting thought of “good riddance” as I swipe past their pictures.

It is those who have left me behind, before I’d attained this new maturity, and self-respect, and who may have appreciated me more had I possessed these a few months earlier, that give me pause. And it makes me wish that I could meet some of these people again, as the woman I am today, someone of whom I am proud and love a little bit more, so that they could appraise this Aubrey—and maybe some things would have turned out a little differently.

BUT c’est la vie. In a few hours, while I’m (hopefully) dead asleep, my rooming situation for my senior year at Harv will be decided by fate. Fingers crossed that I get a room all to myself for the first time at Harvard!!!

Contemplative and appreciative and isolated from the rest of the world,

AubStod