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.

Meredith's realizations since she's returned.

That place changed me.  I could never be the same and I never want to be the same.  I constantly find myself thinking about Africa and telling stories that people won’t really understand and it isn’t anyone’s fault.  I have learned to accept the fact that South Africa was the biggest part of my life but cannot be fully shared.  Even the twelve of us on the trip had completely different experiences, how could someone from America possibly understand it?  

At first being back that was a incredibly empty feeling in my stomach.  No one will ever understand.  I’m not exactly sure why I had this outrageous fantasy in my head that I will get back from Cape Town and share my experiences with my loved ones and it will just click for everyone here.  As if I could seriously make everyone say “Wow! I want to change the world now” based on my stories? Seriously wishful thinking.  

What I did realize since being back though is that you can’t change the world all in one day.  It is a process in which every little thing helps and works.  You have to keep trying and fighting and slowly

you will get through the people.  A few people in my life who I love have very different views from me on many things.  Especially after coming back from South Africa where my views have been incredibly magnified from first hand experiences.  When first coming back, it was hard to hear that those

that I love have completely different views that me on certain issues.  In fact based on my personality type, I even got incredibly offended by certain things.  I don’t mean to sound conceded or anything, I just could not understand how people felt that way.  

What I realized after being home for a few months though was that everyone will have different opinions on different things based on what they have gone through, grew up with, or what kind of person they are.  Sure, most of the people I had debates with still believe what they are going to want to believe.  But what I know for sure is that I made them think.  And you know what else, those people made me think.  Maybe I didn’t have the “eureka!” impact I was hoping I could have on people, but I do know that I 

started turning those gears in there minds.

Leah on shifting her perspective

It seems almost silly to write about why my time in South Africa was important. My experience has irrevocably changed my life, my views, and my future. I cannot imagine who I would be today without those four months. Though perhaps I cannot begin to guess who I would be with any four month period of my life eliminated, these four months were especially important in shaping the person I have become.

Recently I have been thinking about how I do not carry a notebook anymore. In South Africa, I used to carry a small notepad with me so that I could write facts down as I learned them (got this idea from Britt – thanks!). Back in America, I have ceased doing so. I have not ceased learning, but it made me sad to think about the fact that I was learning something totally new every single day in South Africa and was compelled to write it down to commit it to memory.






Going to South Africa exposed me to realities to which I had previously been ignorant. I came to understand the world and my place in it in a totally new way. As I began to think more about the fact that I no longer carry a notepad with me, I realized that it is not so bad. My time in South Africa was not about the facts that I collected in a book. I cannot remember the exact numbers and I have not referenced the book and I am not ashamed about that. My time in South Africa was not about the accumulation of knowledge. Instead, it was a shifting of perspective; a rare lifetime experience that I am eternally grateful for.

Adam's tug of war

 I’ve been back in America for over five months now.  Storrs, CT is not quite as I remember it.  The main campus has been put into a state of total renovation that has closed off areas I used to take for granted.  The weather is changing and for the first time in several months I feel cold when I step out my front door.  I’m miles from the ocean and beaches.  I’m bogged down with schoolwork and applying for law school.  Storrs Fall 2010 is definitely no Cape Town Spring 2010.

All the time I find myself craving to be back in Cape Town.  There was always so much excitement and interesting things to do.  When I left I felt I had just gotten into the groove of things; the walk to my internship, the mini-bus taxis, and just the entire Capetonian way of life.  There is just so much nostalgia when I look back at my whole experience that it feels a little overwhelming.  When I left I felt as if I had just gotten to know a good friend and then was ripped away to go back home.  It is a homesick sort of feeling that I’ve only ever felt in much smaller doses than I do now.

When I am home I just feel so much more pressure to prove myself.  I have to get all A’s, I have to break a 160 on the LSAT’s, I have to go to a good law school.  In Cape Town there wasn’t any of this stress.  I just lived without constantly worrying about the future.  I lived more in the moment, which now that I’m home is proving to be more and more difficult to do.  It makes me think is it impossible for me to find that state of being that I was in during my time in Cape Town?  Is it possible for me to live in the moment in Storrs, at home in New York, or wherever I go after graduation? 

            

It is the longing for the past that pulls me in one direction and the uncertainty of the future that tugs me the other way.  This tug of war leaves me exhausted and anxious.  It becomes clear to me that what I must do for both the present and the future is find that center, that Cape Town way of life.