working it all out

 

One of the most difficult things for me has been the inability to work out whenever I get the urge. The freedom to go and run down the street isn't a luxury that we have. It is winter time in South Africa, so it gets dark pretty early, usually around 6 p.m. There were some frustrations in finding somewhere to work out here. 

The first attempt I made was at a yoga studio literally right down the road from my apartment.  It was ideal and perfect...however, there was a huge misunderstanding in membership rules. We could not join unless we were willing to pay 3 months worth, even though we were told at first that we could pay per month. There is not a lot of flexibility in how some businesses are ran. Even though their website said one thing, it was another thing in person. 

You don't see too many people running around in our neighborhood, The Observatory a.k.a Obs. Reasons to why are not very clear, but your first thought may be "because it probably isn't safe." Yet, it isn't filled with workout obsessed people. The people are generally laid back, eclectic and go with the flow...something the whole group is hesitantly but enjoying adapting to. 

Tonight, a friend and I ventured to Claremont and paid a little too much in taxi fare to get to a yoga studio, Yo Yoga, where month-only memberships are offered. Halfway in my Upward Facing Dog, I couldn't believe that I was doing the exact same thing as what I love doing so much back home, yet with a group of  yogis in Cape Town, South Africa. It was wonderful and surreal...until I got completely put to shame by the intensity of Capetonian yoga.

learning to live

I have never been out of the United States prior to this trip, much less for two months. I am learning things that have completely blindsided me.  Before leaving my small hometown in Kentucky, my mother told me, “you aren’t going to be the same when you come back, you do know that this trip is going to change you?” Mom, I sense an evolution forming. Watching the way people across the world live, fighting off the fear of the unknown and setting myself free from the restrictions in my own mind. Being somewhere unfamiliar has made me kick in my survival mode and cancel out anything else unnecessary. Survival mode as in silencing the noise that makes it impossible for my mind, body and soul to fully live. 

Being away has forced me to not take a second for granted. While back home I unhealthily equated stress with productivity, but here I have the luxury to add in adventures and new faces. There is no reason to stress. I do not have an agenda, I don’t sleep with my iPhone, I don’t worry about anything other than the present. I don’t know whether to credit that to the South African style of timing or the beauty of getting away.

I have signed up to take yoga classes at a studio right by where we are staying. Not being able to work out has been extremely difficult, yet not to my surprise I have gotten used to it. I am an extremely solitary person. I work very well socially, but I prefer to be alone a lot. I am forced to do everything with somebody, which is hard too. Working out is usually my complete and exceptional moment of solitude, but being somewhere known for crime, you just can’t go too many places by yourself fresh off the plane.

I ventured today out to the Obs Holistic Lifestyle Fair that our neighborhood holds on the first Sunday of each month in the Winter. Today was one of those so-beautiful-its-heartbreaking kind of days, we all knew it was rare and would slip away, so therefore must be enjoyed to the fullest. The fair was graced with a 65 degree day full of sunshine and well-behaved winds. The fair had everything from tarot card readers to jewelry designers. I have always wanted to be one of the regulars to things like this back home, but somehow always seemed to busy myself up. Being away has allowed me to rethink what should be in my agenda. Most of all, being away has allowed me to take the time to learn how to live, and enjoy doing it.

Instant Gratitfication

 

photos by: Krista Osmundson

"Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly."

I saw smiles on every street corner of Langa. The township was bright with bustling school children and markets. I saw what poverty smelt like, tasted like and looked like; and in some ways it wasn't what I had expected. The poverty was rich with positivity. While heartache lives in just about every community, I saw more smiling faces today than I have in my own neighborhood back West in years.

There was gratitude...an instant gratitude.Not the kind of instant gratification you get when giving a friend a helping hand, this one was deeper than that. Sally, our tour guide, gave a band of toddlers oranges and lolli-pops and I have never seen such joy in a child's eye. The little girl, who Sally had known since she was in her mother's tummy, had only socks on, and did not have clothes that fit. The toddlers were maybe 2 or 3 years old. They did not beg for attention or money, they were just happy to have a treat. I felt a surge of joy in seeing this act of kindness and act of appreciation. 

I saw something that I was not expecting to see...pride. The township was not full of sad faces and hopeless dreams. There was a sense of pride in their community. The community center was lit with young talent and I felt joy in contributing to it. The art brought joy to me, and to the people that made it. The Beverly Hills of Langa, which were similar to the western working middle class homes, was where local doctors and lawyers chose to reside. Many successful people from Langa do not move out to the glittery homes of Cape Town, but instead stay within the community that built them. 

DAY 1.

29 hours later and I landed in Cape Town last night (day, afternoon?), my perception of time is still not quite right. I flew over the Atlantic and flew over places I have been dreaming of being on the same continent as my entire life. 29 hours in airports and on planes is all it took for a 22-year dream to become a reality. I flew over the French Alps, and I saw my reflection in the window of the plane and gave myself a lovingly smile. I did it.

Lights glamorously lit the scene as we dropped altitude and circled into Cape Town. Adrenaline dominated the jet lag, and positivity overruled the fear. Nine personalities in one apartment, and there is an underlying notion of disbelief in us all that we are actually on this great adventure. 

We could not have been more lucky to have graced with beautiful weather on our first real outing in Cape Town. We first head to the market up the street to gather foods that either 1. we had never heard of or 2. were the same brands but compiled completely different. Example, candy in flavors like "champagne" "chardonnay" and "pinot". Packaged "pies" in curry and the infamous Marmite. 

We were all starving so we decided to go into Cape Town. Conveniently, we live right by a train. Literally, right by a train. So we got a first class ticket to Cape Town and 10 minutes later found ourselves in a city where people were bustling in a pavilion and a mountain was dominating the sky. 

For R140 (about $20 or) we got a ticket on a tour bus (double decker) and head up Table Top. It was breathtaking. The sky is bigger and the pace is slower. I almost forgot that there was also another beautiful attraction to this wonderful city, the ocean. 

We made it to the coast and ate an fine italian restaurant where we sipped wine, and daquiris. I ordered the gnochi and gorgonzola and it was arguably the best meal I have ever ate. I was a few hundred yards from the breaking waves with 8 friends. A street performer with an old acoustic and wonderful expressions entertained us while strumming Bob Marley. We took beautiful pictures on the beach and then went to a super posh mall. There is posh and poverty in Cape Town. Lamborghinis and footless feet.
The gang had to get phones, converters and all that other stuff, which is stressful but it didn't jade the day. 

However, the city feels safe to me. It needs open minded students and tourists in order for it to thrive and talk about just how beautiful it is. Tonight, I will sleep well and tomorrow I will venture even more. Until tomorrow, Goodnight from Cape Town!

Love from CT,

Brooke 

big jet plane

5 weeks from now I will be on a big commercial airliner taking me farther away from home than I have ever been.

I can not wait.

rolling sea

Perfect song for a long but lovely plane ride.

Cry Freedom: Steve Biko

In my History 355 class: Sports and Society in South Africa, we recently watched a great film about Steve Biko, a political activist who captivated the heart of a white journalist, Donald Woods, and his family. However, even though their were consequences to this biracial friendship, Woods was unwilling to give up on a friend and a mission.

The film was made in 1987, seven years prior to the end of the apartheid.

 After the death of Biko, Woods is determined to unveil the truth behind his friends death. Biko dies in police custody and Woods decides to write a book about it, a very risky thing to do. Woods' family is threatened and luckily escape the forces of death. Having to go undercover, Woods is forced to leave the country to get the truth and his book published to the world.

Also, it is one of Denzel's first roles!