Erica's holding on to the memories

Returning back from South Africa was just as difficult of a transition as I thought it would be. This summer, I participated in Semester at Sea. I spent the summer traveling the Mediterranean amidst the commercialism and material wealth of some of the richest countries in Europe. After being in South Africa for 4 ½ months, I felt so out of place. I went from being a volunteer and activist in South Africa to being a tourist in Italy and Spain. After visiting 5 European countries this summer, it was time to go back to Africa, this time to Northern Africa. Visiting Egypt and Morocco was especially difficult. How could I only visit these countries for 7 days and sit on a tour bus, looking out the window at the extensive poverty, and do nothing about it? As we drove through Alexandria and Cairo, I stared out at what seemed like miles and miles of tiny shacks and bare-footed children begging for food and money. I saw men and women working tirelessly in fields. I saw children bathing in the Nile River, one of the most polluted water sources in the world. I was reminded of Kahyelitsha and Nyanga and yet on Semester at Sea I was trapped by the confines of a tour bus. In Egypt and Morocco, I felt like I could only hear the people’s voices and understand their experiences for a split second, before the bus moved on to a new destination. In Alexandria, Egypt and Casablanca, Morocco I visited orphanages and children’s homes in an attempt to get to know the people of these countries. I spent all day with the children and tried to learn as much as I could in just a few short hours about the country’s economic, social, and political issues. But at the end of the day, I had to go home. Unlike South Africa, I only caught glimpses of the country’s people, and could only do so much in the short time I was there. It was beyond frustrating. Then, after 6 full months of being outside of the United States, I finally had to return home to America. I had just a few days to catch up with my family before heading back to UConn.

Being back at UConn is strange. It’s surreal. It’s depressing. It’s quiet. It’s mundane. I feel unchallenged and often unmotivated in many of my classes. Being in Neag School of Education at UConn is a privilege, however my role in Neag right now is simply to observe and to take notes. Simply observing in an elementary school in Glastonbury (one of the wealthiest school districts in Connecticut) is extremely frustrating after teaching at Thandokhulu and having so many exciting and challenging experiences, such as teaching my own classes, making my own lesson plans, and interacting one on one with my students.

            I dream about Cape Town almost every night. I can still feel the wind on my face as I stood on top of Table Mountain. I can still feel the adrenalin of jumping off of the world’s highest bungy jump. I can still heart the sounds of the minibus taxis, taste the braii, see the bright sunlight coming up over the mountains on my walk through the Commons. I miss Cape Town more than anything. I miss Imange from Themba Care and all of my students at Thandokhulu. I miss the excitement, the challenges, the obstacles. I miss feeling empowered. I miss the support system. Right now, it is only October and I’ve only been in the United States for two months, so I’m still working on incorporating all that I learned and experienced in South Africa into my life here in Connecticut. I know that everything will fall into place and that I will find the resources I need in order to continue work in activism and social justice. I have confidence in myself. I know that time will help, and that my transition back home will get easier and easier as time goes on. For now, I’ll just hold the memories of Cape Town close and work hard to align the person I was in Cape Town and the life I led in Cape Town with the person I am here and the life I am leading here.