2009 in adjectives

I have a huge blogpost on a flashdrive but this computer at the public affairs office in Lilongwe wont read it. poop. I will try to get internet later at my house. But I am here safe, very happy, and THRILLED about everything that is going on. More abuot that later.
For now, since it is New Years Eve, I will publish something that has been a year in the making.
A year ago tonight, my lovely friend Eli and I stood in a parking lot in Asheville and watched the sunset. As we did this, we picked 5 adjectives to describe 2008. It was so fun that we vowed to send each other 1 adjective on the last day of every month to sum up that month. We have kept to it and I am so glad that this little tradition is in my life.

2009 has definitely been the best year of my life. Hands down!

January = stupendous
February = risible
March = out of character
April = intense
May = f*in crazy
June = centering
July = brimming
August = diverse
September = humbling
October = challenging
November = demanding
December = rewarding

HERE WE COME 2010!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Merry Christmas from Cape Town!

note: i kind of look like an amputee in this photo, but i am not. also, andrew looks a little crazy. but hey, dont be alarmed. we're just enjoying that sweet sweet christmas spirit.

South Africa summed up in one photo:

Coming down from Lion’s Head one evening after sunset, I saw this sight and immediately thought “THIS is precisely what my experience in South Africa has been.” I snapped this photo and have not altered it at all.

I literally could write 1000 words about this photo, but will try to be concise in my metaphor:
There is SO much beauty in this country, so many vivid colors, so much that is vibrant and bold. However, you can’t fully see this beauty without seeing the pain and struggle in this country at the same time. Seeing solely beyond the barbed wire is something that many tourists may be able to do, but having lived here for 4 months I wrestle with this wire everyday, though I will never fully understand all that lies within it.

So as I prepare to leave in just over a week, what I will take from this place is an appreciation for the striking, bold, and beautiful slew of contradictions that is, to me, South Africa.

untapped mode of expression

I’ve always considered myself more of a gymnast than a dancer, more of a pianist than a dancer, more of a singer than a dancer…..more of many things other than a dancer.
However, after arriving at a little tucked away hostel in Stormsriver, SA last week after an 8 hour car ride with my family and special friend, something started to simmer in my legs. I was incredibly antsy and in an awful mood (for this I apologize to my family and special friend) and couldn’t pinpoint what it could be other than the car-ride or PMS or something silly like that. After dinner I was so conflicted internally as to how to rid myself of this feeling; it was too late to go for a run, I couldn’t sit still to journal, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, etc.

Then I looked outside.

What I saw was like something out of a movie. A huge empty lawn quickly filling with dew, a bright light shining on a huge tree at the end of the lawn giving the entire lawn a slight sheen, and a cloudless sky that beckoned me to come stare at it. The simmer in my legs grew to a boil as I threw off my shoes, I grabbed my iPod, and entered what would become my personal sanctuary.
So I don’t know much about American pop-music these days, but my friend Danielle did make a mixed CD for me with some new “hits”. I have no idea what your opinion of the song “Fireflies” by Owl City is, but let me tell you; that was exactly what the doctor ordered for that moment in time. Who knows, some of you might be gagging right now. But don’t hate, don’t hate; I think it is beautiful. Picture this:
It took me a minute to get over any stage fright I might have had, wondering if someone was watching me from their room or something or might come outside and see me. But soon enough I entered the zone with this song. Under a vast sky with constellations I seldom get to see in the city, I put this song on repeat and for about 40 minutes DANCED MY LIFE OUT. The wannabe conservatory-trained modern dancer in me emerged and I jammed with myself, leaping and twirling and reaching and stretching and exploding and imploding and everything all at once. It was nothing short of magic.
That night I learned a very important lesson; I can be an artist any moment I want to be. Though piano will always be my preferred medium, dance has been an untapped mode of expression for too long and I’ll be damned if I ever get in a funk again and don’t think to dance it out. Though I may never find that perfect dewy lawn again under a South African sky, a zone is a zone is a zone and when you genuinely enter it, the world stops. This sentiment is especially pertinent in the song I danced to. Anytime I hear this song again in my life I will remember this night, smile, and have a little solo dance party in my head.

I’d like to make myself believe

That planet earth turns slowly

It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep

But everything is never as it seems

Damn, it feels good to be a graduate

So, Ive been prettttttty slack about keeping up with this. My last real update was about a month ago. Ive been SO BUSY!!! The main thing anyone reading this needs to know is I AM DONE WITH COLLEGE. It was a strenuous push to the finish, but now the marathon is over and I’m basking in the flood of endorphins and overall goodness that follows. To catch up:

After Thanksgiving things got serious. We had our final exam in our South African history/politics class (for which I am proud to say I completed a college goal of including the word “bullshit” in an exam when I wrote a response about the 4 pillars of struggle during apartheid, saying, “basically, the the international community was sick of the National Party’s bullshit”), we had our final banquet which was 5 hours long and consisted of adults schmoozing, and then PAPERS. I had a pretty good base before the final week, but Monday-Thursday of that week I spent 5-6 hours at UCT library writing, everyday. Sweet little Sarah Henning was my library partner and we tried to keep one another on track. By Thursday, I was completely done with my personal research paper, which is 22 pages (biggest paper I’ve ever written, I’ll call it my own version of a thesis) and BALLER if I may say so myself (big Word up to my special friend who helped me proof-read). I was also done with my part of a group paper on natural resource exploitation in the DRC and spent a lot of the night finishing up the bibliography (group bibliographies are a PAIN IN THE ASS). I had to go the bed though and rest up for the next morning because I would be having tea with …

   DESMOND TUTU!!!!! 

Ok, so during the summer  a beautiful lady I know, Anna Claire Eddington, did a Burch Fellowship in South Africa and got breakfast with Desmond Tutu. When I heard this in June, I  a) totally developed a girl-crsuh on her  b) got so excited at the prospect of doing the same thing myself. Thus, in October I drafted a letter to Sweet Desi inviting him to a Thanksgiving feast at our house in Tamboerskloof and had everyone in the house sign the letter. Our TA Eboni was set to meet him through her internship-like thing she was doing, so she was able to give the letter to his personal assistant. Eboni received a call from his assistant saying he was unfortunately busy on Thanksgiving but would be able to meet on December 4^th. When I heard this I thought:

“HMMM, THIS IS KIND OF PERFECT as my last day of college is December 4^th, and would pretty much be my graduation day, and since he was the speaker at the May graduation ceremony in Chapel Hill, WE CAN BE BEST FRIENDS ON MY GRADUATION DAY IN CAPE TOWN!!!”

So yes, it all worked out. We all woke up super early (some people never went to bed as they were finishing papers) and we went downtown to St George's Cathedral. Here we attended a service led by Desi, which was very cool. After the service we all headed to a coffee shop with him. As we were walking there, Sweet Desi kept shaking people’s hands on the street, waving at people; basically being the cutest, spunkiest little old man ever. By far the best part of this walk occurred when we stopped in the median of a pedestrian crosswalk. As the cars drove by honking there horns, Desi held out his hand and gave every driver that passed him a high-five, including some white guy in a BMW who looked so happy. It was hysterical. Then at the coffee shop I was able to nab the seat beside Desi (which was my goal, afterall). There were other adults there, so he spent most of his time talking with them. I felt a little awkward at times, thinking in my head “What the hell do you talk about with Desmond Tutu?????” We made nice conversation and he patted me on the shoulder (PRAISE!). Yall, he CACKLES. The cutest laugh Ive ever heard. He could only stay like 20-25 minutes, but it was enough to snap this photo:

And that was that! Headed back to the house, turned both papers, and was

DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE!!!!!!

There was 1 other super-senior on the program and she was pretty excited as well, but no one else really understood how weird/awesome/scary/amazing/reallyreallyreallyreallygood it felt. It was a BEAUTIFUL day so I just ran over to Andrew’s apartment where I was greeted with “CONGRADUATIONS!!!” signs all over the house, a card, and the biggest hug ever. We celebrated by taking a shot of peach Schnapps (what?! Kaitlin taking a shot?? I know what youre thinking…. But this was a big occasion) :

Then we headed downtown for the World Cup Final Draw. IT WAS INSANE. There were thousands of people on Long Street the main drag in Cape Town. Tooo many people for me, though it was fun for a while. I have to write a whole other post about what I think about the World Cup..... whew. Its going to be ugly. 

ANYWAYYYYYYYYYYS now that I have 2 weeks of free time until Malawi, I can do WHATEVER I WANT!!!! I'll be writing more now BECAUSE NOW I GOTS THE TIME YESSSSSSSS.

Love you all, send me some chilly December air

K-Grad

sleepy sunday

soooooo this past week was kind of tough. wednesday the homesickness really set in.  i want to make a longer post about this at some point but now i am procrastinating writing my papers so i think ill wait. thanksgiving away from home is tough!! i am so glad that i was able to celebrate though with andrew and 3 of my fellow housemates. we cooked a lovely meal and ate it looking at table mountain. pictures to come!

as for the next week my life is pretty much dedicated to these papers AND FINISHING COLLEGE. so much going on in my brain.... whew.

missing the northern hemisphere,
kaitlin

i have also decided

that i am really tired of being treated like a child on this program. i am tired of so many things. i am ready to graduate and see my mom and sister. i dont want to be a negative nancy but this program has not met my expectations and am at the moment frustrated with how things have turned out. i have talked to my special friend at length about this, thank goodness there is someone here i can talk to all this about who knew me before this semester. i feel like i have to walk on eggshells around this house and watch what i say or someone will construe my words. im ready to be free!

FINISH LINE.

SO.

CLOSE.

but i really want to ENJOY my last 2 weeks of college, you know? i really really honestly want to be positive patsy and just soak it all in. i am going to try my darndest to practice what i preach.

is it sad that i have resorted to a blog to vent? i cant talk on the phone about it- someone might hear me. i would journal about it and keep it to myself but for some reason i feel sharing this bit. south africa messes with my head on a daily basis. i dont think i will come back after my time here.

best part of all this: i am so lucky this is all i have to worry about (knock on wood!!!).

i have officially decided:

paying to do an internship is pretty stupid.

love
kaitlin

when there isnt much to do at my internship....

i print out stuff like THIS and quiz myself

i try to understand what the hell THIS is about

or i just have a laugh with this.

......and make this post.

Ugly Truth

Yesterday afternoon, I was explaining to a few friends my master strategy if I were ever to get mugged: “I’m just going to cross my eyes, yell really loud in jibberish, and scare them away.”

However, the moment there is a rusty six-inch blade being wielded at your neck, all of that goes out the window.

I guess you can say I had a truly Cape Townian experience last night walking home. I am completely unharmed, just a little shook up, and VERY lucky. Let me explain.

So I KNOW better than to walk alone, DUH. I’m not stupid. However, I was walking home with Andrew from downtown and there is a point about 3 minutes from my house that I consider the safety-zone. It’s a short little hike up a hill and bam, I’m there. Andrew lives in the other direction, so he walked me to this point last night.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he said, being the wonderful special friend he is.

“Nah, I’m fine! I’m so close! Yeah, I should probably go, there’s probably someone watching us” – hardy har har, sarcasm. Except not, because someone was.

I was about half way up the hill when I saw a white care coming down the street. Thought nothing of it, kept going. Then it slowed down. “Oh, they’re turning at this street” I saw it was 2 black men in the car “Hmmm, that’s odd for Tamboerskloof” Kept on walking. One of them got out. “Excuse me miss?…..”

The next few thoughts happened in about 1 second but went like this:

“RUN.”

But no Kaitlin, what if they are lost? You would be racist of you ran. Just trust they are seeing a friend here or something.

I should have trusted that first half second thought. Before I knew it I was up against the wall, knife above my chest/neck, and he was trying to take my bag. I remembered from Self Defense class to yell “NO!!!” Very firmly, which I did. But he was not taking NO for an answer. So I froze- gave him the bag- he patted me down to make sure he wasn’t missing my phone (in the bag), and in a flash he was gone. I had already been screaming at this point, and within seconds there were about 8 or 9 people coming out of their houses, seeing if I was ok. They were so helpful and understanding. I was just amazed. I always thought “I would totally get the license plate number of anyone who tries to pull that on me.” Ha. Not the case. In those key seconds everything simultaneously speeds up and stops, you know? Anyway, neighborhood watch was there in a flash and everyone was so kind to me. 4 people walked me home!! (the remaining 90 seconds).

I am SO SO SO lucky for many reasons. First of all, let me list the contents of my bag (happened to be my favorite bag from Bolivia… poop). Some might call it a typical Kaitlin Houlditch-Fair bag:

1 pencil

2 pens

3 bananas

5 cookies

40 Rand (about $5 )

Pepto-Bismol pills

Chapstick

Klean Kanteen (bummer)

My new raincoat (biggest bummer)

A shitty Nokia cell phone with about $1 credit left on it

And last but not least…

A Ziploc bag to put ear plugs in

SO THERE, THIEF. I HOPE YOU ENJOY MOISTURIZING YOUR LIPS AND WARDING OFF RAIN AND LOW BLOOD SUGAR YOU ASSHOLE.

I am SO glad I left my ID, credit card, debit card, cash, iPod etc. at home. Even before Andrew and I left to go downtown I showed him my new method of keeping money in that little Ziploc bag because I didn’t want my pretty red wallet to get stolen. Ha.

In hindsight so many signs pointed to it…. On the way downtown Andrew and I were approached about 3 times, on the way back another 3… being offered drugs and asked for money. I remarked at how it had never happened this many times. I remember wondering if we should just suck it up and take a cab home. When we got to the corner of the (former) safety zone, I remember thinking, ‘Wow, someone might be watching us.’ Whew. Ooky. Even if Andrew had walked me home, I doubt it would have stopped them- and then they could have taken his fiddle. I can honestly say I would rather all of the contents of that bag be taken over Andrew’s fiddle. For real. But who knows what would have happened.

But question time– Black people are never in Tamboerskloof at night usually, but IF I had run, that would have been racist, right? I would not have run if it were 2 white men because white men live in Tamboerskloof. If I had told someone at home that I ran, it probably would have gotten around and I would be Racist Kaitlin.

About a month ago, I was standing outside the gate of my internship in Observatory by myself and was approached by a woman. “Great,” I thought, “I’m going to be asked for money.” I started to say, “No, I don’t have any” When she asked me “Do you know where the train station is?” Wow, did I feel like an asshole or what. Last night, for that 1 second that determined everything, I actually remembered that woman and gave that man the benefit of the doubt. Today I looked no male in the eye.  What can you do??

Anyway, it sucked but here are the morals of the story:

1) I am so lucky and blessed- It could have been a lot worse

2) This kind of stuff happens all the time!!

3) You can plan a response to anything but in the moment it can mean nothing

4) I’m not walking alone at night anymore.

5) From now on, IM TAKING CABS.

            (and so is Andrew)

Love you all. 

happy birthday to meeeeeeee

all i wanted for my birthday:

pictures from Narnia

I realized recently that I have a lot of pictures of my bathroom, also affectionately known as Narnia by the Hillcrest Manor residents. Oh, you THINK its just a closet. But you open the doors to a magical land...

Here is a CUTIE picture of me, Sarah, and Diana in our CUTIE black dresses after we went to a dance show. see the entry-way on the right? thats the door.... (i also just like this picture and wanted to post it)

This little rascal is called Toby. We doubt that is his real name, but that's how we know him. . He's a sweet little P.Y.T. that comes in the house and terrorizes us. FULL of mischief but I happen to love him. I was trying to capture him while he was in my bathtub, but alas I was too late. But this one is still really sweet :)

OH TOBE-STER:

This is the view from my toilet. That mountain is Lion's Head. So every time I pee I see this. MAGIC.

One morning, I went to have my usual morning pee and found this beautiful sight. Somehow during the night Diana's bra made its way into the toilet. I was confused but mostly amused. I woke her up to show her. She had no recollection. LOVE HER.

I will post more photos soon, including some from Halloween and my birthday!! As for now, things are great, Andrew is getting settled into Cape Town (so nice to have my special friend around!) and I am stressing over the 2 research papers I have to do over the course of the next month... BAH.

happy november!!!!

oh man i havent written in quite a bit. things have been wayway busy. cliffnotes version:
2 weeks ago i was at m internship all week, figuring out what my research topic will be and going on home visits. sometimes there isnt much to do in the office, so my fellow interns and i do things like quiz ourselves on middle-eastern countries by labeling blank maps of the area and learning random facts about uzbekistan.  i was going to research why the education system in SA has pretty much failed, but since i will be working with HIV/AIDS issues over the course of the next year in Malawi my professor thinks that digging into why South Africa has such a huge problem with HIV would be more fitting. Such a huge topic for 20 pages, but she says  I can make it manageable....
So on the 24th we left for Johannesburg for our "excursion." I was looking forward to seeing new things, getting a break from cape town, etc. ummmmm not what happened. theres not much to do in joburg except eat in malls (we did this i think 4 times, it was the safest place to eat probably), go to really depressing apartheid museums (i broke down in one of them.... more on that later), and be bored as hell. POSITIVE side- we did go to 2 braais (like south african BBQs) and to Kruger National Park where we saw a bunch of animals. did yall know that the average elephant penis weights 160 pounds?!?!? fun fact i learned while sitting in the safari vehicle. it was quite rainy and cold during the drive and visibility was low, but hey, i got to see some zebras so its all good. made it back last night for halloween!! saw some trick-or-treaters, made me happy. all in all, the week draaaaaagged mainly because i have been anticipating the arrival of my SPECIAL FRIEND!!!!!!!!! in about 3 hours from the time i am writing this i am going to pick my dear up from the airport.... the time has come. for sure.  ive been waiting on november 1 and here it is... !!!!

more later..... i must go bask in the glorious sunny cape townian morning.
LOVE!

Things I feel bad about but "shouldn't"

*Being driven to my internship. I HATE telling people that I get driven. I SEE all of the judgments forming in their eyes. What sucks is that for the most part they are right. “Wow, she has money. Wow, she is spoiled.” Yes, and yes, but AHHHHHHH. However, the ride is free (well, included in program costs). If I were to take public transport, it would literally take hours, be really crowded and full of blaring techno music, and probably $5 a day. Anyways, our personal driver for the program, Parks, is AWESOME. One of the most positive people I’ve ever met. Always calling us “MY BUDDY!!!!” However, seeing him at our front gate at 8 am every morning, knowing he woke up REALLY early to drive here from his home, only to drive my spoiled self to my INTERNSHIP that I am PAYING to do….. wow, it just hits me in the face everyday how backwards this all is. On that note….

*Wanting to stay later at my internship

We only get to stay at our internship 4 hours a day because it is so far away, and Parks has to beat the traffic to go home to his wife. A part of me says, “Hey, everyone else get so stay at their internships until 4 pm (it is supposed to be this way for everyone) but we get gypped because we have to be picked up at 2”. But we don’t get home until 3:30 and Parks has to drive back pretty much to where he picked us up; he probably doesn’t get home till at least 5 because of traffic. We never encounter traffic because we are the few crazy people who are leaving the city bowl in the morning to go into the townships- everyone else is coming from the townships to work for the rich white people who live in the city bowl, like myself….

*Living in Tamboerskloof. “Oh, well isn’t she privileged.” Well, yes, I am. But it’s safe here. “Oh, she’s just a scared white girl” Well, maybe I am. But safety is a big concern. Besides, my program set up my housing for me… “You paid by yourself?? You MUST be a rich American” …..AHHHHH.

* Having my bed made and my room cleaned everyday. We have a wonderful lady Kamyi (I think this is how you spell it…) who is like the Hillcrest Manor maid. She is black, from the township Langa, and incredibly nice. On the one hand I feel AWFUL when I come into my room, and whatever I had on my bed in the morning is nicely folded on my pillow, my sheets all nice and my blanket perfectly tucked in. I try my best before I leave to make it look like it does in the afternoons, but can always tell that she does it again herself. On the other hand, I imagine she needs to job to support her kids. If we did all of the cleaning ourselves (like you would have to do anywhere else…. like I’m used to (Mariah may not agree with this BUT GIRL IVE CHANGED, remember?)) Kamyi would be out of a job. So I have to put my privileged guilt aside and just appreciate the hell out of my clean sheets.

*Preferring not to take public transport, the mini-buses, and having the option not to. Taxi cabs are nicer and safer. 

*Going for a run. The blacks who work in Tamboerskloof (for the rich whiteys that live here) look at me like a fool. Same thing happened in Tanzania. “Shouldn’t you spend all that energy just…. surviving?” What an odd luxury….. choosing to make yourself exhausted because you can afford to. 

*Not really loving it here Don’t get me wrong, I like it a lot here, but I am very cautious with the word love. My heart still belongs to London, but that’s worthy of a WHOLE other entry….

Ok, so when I say that I miss fall in North Carolina, or pretty much just the Northern Hemisphere, I can’t quite explain this miss. I’ve written about it a lot in this blog, but I still feel the need to explain, even if only for myself….

I am completely thrown off. I guess 21 years of being on the same cycle does something to your body/everything. It’s like I’ve been dancing to the same beautiful drumbeat my whole life and now it’s opposite. I am trying with all of my might to hold on to any notion of autumn. It’s amazing how you can trick yourself. Last night we went to an Indian restaurant at dusk for a big dinner. The whole place was lined with windows. I totally fooled myself for a good 10 minutes, looking out the window at the evening thinking “Ooooo, its chilly outside…. Its October…. The leaves will be falling…..” Is that torturing myself?! But I found so much comfort in it! Wow. Also, the other night I tried the opposite. It was a warm evening and I made myself think “Ok, it’s early March… it’s one of those sexy spring evenings….” And I convinced myself for about 30 seconds. But I shouldn’t have to do any convincing on that end because it IS SPRING! I knew I was attached to months and seasons and dates and all things dealing with calendars (is there an adjective for that?) but DAMN I didn’t know it was this bad. It is really hard to let go of. I imagine its good for me in the long run. 

Amy Biehl

Last night I saw my first theater production in Cape Town at the Baxter Theater at UCT. The play was Mother to Mother, a 1-woman show about the true story of Amy Biehl. For those who don’t know, Amy Biehl was a Fulbright scholar here in Cape Town in 1993 that was brutally killed as an act of racial violence. She was stabbed in the Guguletu township, somewhere it was illegal for her to be because she was white. She was supposed to go home to America the next day. On our brief tour of Guguletu at the beginning of this semester we saw the exact spot on the sidewalk where she was stabbed.

The play is from the perspective of the mother of one of Amy’s killers and is in the form of a letter to Amy’s mother in the states. It was riveting. During the scene in which she vividly describes the actual act of Amy’s murder, I started crying. A lot of you know that I very rarely cry at theater or movies. But just thinking about this girl who must have been so excited to go home and see her family the next day and never quite got there, about the rocks that were thrown at her car, about how many times she was stabbed on that sidewalk, about how scared she must have been, about that phone call her mother received….. the weight of all of that hit me and I just broke. However, the show brought up some really great points, considered many perspectives, and made me evaluate why I felt so strongly about it.  First of all, had Amy Biehl been black, this would not even be a play.  The reason it made headlines is because she was a young white American woman. Had she been a black American woman it would not have been such a big deal. But does that take away from the same terror a black woman would have felt? What if Amy Biehl had been a black South African? Black South African women face situations like this every day. They get beaten every day. They get raped everyday. They feel the same terror Amy must have felt. The reason I personally felt such a connection to the story because I am a young white American woman as well. I can relate. Would this story have hit me as hard if it were about a North Korean woman?

So many perspectives were taken into account. The play briefly questions what the hell Amy was thinking that day; being in a township she knew it was illegal to be in. This is in NO way meant to justify what happened to her, but just to consider that if she had “even 1 ounce of fear” that she may have survived. This is hard to agree with but necessary to understand- we are not invincible. She may have thought she was. Again, this does not make anything her fault, but just considers another side.

I think this a very important work. I wish last night had not been the last night of the production so that everyone else in the program could see it.

The rest of the Amy Biehl story is really fascinating.  It is a very very powerful story of forgiveness. Here is a link to the Amy Biehl Foundation:

http://www.amybiehl.org/

recap of last week

Haven’t written in a while! This past week has been a number of things: Frustrating, encouraging, boring, busy…… sound like a bunch of contradictions? Well, that’s exactly what is has felt like. 

Monday and Tuesday I was at Molo. The most I did was organize tax invoices for about a half an hour. Boring, you say? UMM YES. NOT KAITLIN’S STYLE. Part of me was infuriated. “I am paying to be here to do an internship that I want to do- not organize tax invoices and sit on my ass in front of a computer!!!” Oh, my mind was not a pretty sight.

Side note:

You may be asking yourself, “Well, Kaitlin, can’t you just make up something to do?” I will now pull a quote from an email I wrote my special friend last week to hopefully clarify this:

" it is SO MUCH EASIER SAID THAN DONE to just "come up with a project". initiative is a different beast here. things are slow. anne marie and i are bored out of our minds and so is everyone else, it appears. from an outside perspective it might be easy to say ,"well, just go to ao school and teach sex ed! just show up!" or, "just research something!" but both of these have serious obstacles. i cant just get up and go to a school because #1) there is no transportation #2) i cant do anything in Molo's name without therir approval, and the people who would approve it are either never around or dont really care #3) i dont speak Xhosa #4) i cant just show up at a school, they do have classes and teachers. (though it is usually kind of unorganized). the list goes on and on. im not giving up though, no no no, im just really heart-set on switching. i have more to give than sitting ony my ass writing everyone in the world emails"

Anyway, I had asked our study abroad internship coordinator/advisor, Vernon, LAST Friday to see what I could do and if I could possibly switch. He said he would look into it over the weekend and get back to me. Well, Tuesday morning rolled around with no word so I took it upon myself to go to other people’s internships.

Wednesday:  I went to Christel House with my roommate Diana to teach gymnastics to second graders and sixth graders. OH. MY. LORD. 2^nd graders= little demons. I have NEVER worked with children that misbehaved. It was absolutely impossible. I can’t even describe how bad it was. They did not listen. AT. ALL. Wow wow wow. Terrible. On the other hand, the 6^th graders= little angels. They were so attentive and good gymnasts! This one little boy could do a back-tuck! Amazing. Frustrating and encouraging. All at once.

Thursday:  I went to Olive Leaf Foundation in Khayelitsha with my friend Sarah, still frustrated that Vernon had not gotten back to me. The whole day was a community meeting almost entirely in Xhosa about establishing some sort of Community Child Care System. We all sat in a big circle and all of the Mamas (about 30 of them) spoke in extremely fast Xhosa. Do yall know how crazy this language sounds?! All the clicks! My Lord. My special friend seemed surprised when I told him the other day that I hadn't really picked up any Xhosa yet. "Kaitlin, immersion is the best way!" I love his optimism, but DAMN BOY, YOU EVER HEARD XHOSA?!?!! Anyway, back to the point- It is amazing how much you can pick up from body language. I enjoyed watching their eyes speak. One woman talked in Xhosa for a half an hour straight and it was pretty fascinating. One of the facilitators translated the gist of what she said during the lunch break. Turns out when she was 20 she had a baby that was very sick and the doctors didn’t know what to do with it. They treated her and her baby very poorly because they were black. After a few frustrating days, the doctors gave the baby back to her. When the woman got on the bus to go home with the child, people kept looking at her strange and looking at the baby strange but she had no idea why. Someone told her the baby should go back to the hospital. She immediately turned around but when she got to the hospital no one would touch the baby. She kept trying to give it to a nurse but the nurses would look at it and run away. Turns out when the doctors had given her baby back it was already dead, but she didn’t know because she had never seen anything dead before. She said that the baby’s eyes were open and it was smiling. She was so unfamiliar with death. This woman is now probably in her 50s and says since then she has been very passionate about the rights of children.

At the lunch break I was explaining to Sarah how I would love to intern here and how if Vernon didn’t get back to me I would just come anyway. Then a man came up to me and already knew my name and said that he had been talking to Vernon all week and that I start Monday. WHAT?!?!?! I had been worrying myself for nothing? Vernon still hasn’t contacted me directly, but apparently this staff member said that he cleared it all up. I was shocked but am happy that it worked out. So I start Monday! I'll let yall know how it goes.....

The Worlds Highest Bungy Jump and Tstikamma National Park

So a few posts ago I posed the question of whether I should

a)     go to other people’s internships

b)    b) go bungy jumping

c)     both

 during my week off. I wound up picking B and am so glad that I did. I would have loved to pick C but there just wasn’t enough time. Here’s what went down:

Last Tuesday the 29^th Anne Marie, Diana and I woke up at 5 am to catch a 6 am bus to Storms River, a small town east from here along the coast. Our mission was simple- to do the highest bungy jump in the world. Let’s do the math:

3 whole days away and 18 hours roundtrip time on bus for a 5 second free fall.

Worth it?

YES.

When we arrived the first day we just chilled at our AWESOME hostel. Google “Tube ‘N Axe Hostel”. It was so nice to get away from the city! Met some great people from Australia and England and spent a while chatting around a bonfire. Went to bed early to get ready for…..

September 30^th. The Best Day of the Semester (so far)

Ok. So the bungy jump is 216 meters. That’s about 700 feet. It is from the Bloukrans Bridge that overlooks pristine mountains and the Indian Ocean. 

We were in the first group of people for the day that included about 13 British dudes on a surfing trip. We all bonded quickly and were thrilled to say the least! One guy actually threw up! Poor thing. I was surprisingly not nervous at all though, just excited. I kept marveling at how my hand was completely steady. Face Adrenalin, the company that does it, is super professional and they have a 100% safety record. The staff was so cool and the environment was so fun- THEY HAVE A LIVE DJ ON THE BRIDGE!! So we danced, cheered each other on, watched live-stream videos of people’s jumps when we could no longer see them…. So fun. Us 3 girls were last after waiting about 40 minutes and watching everyone else go but 3 of those British guys stuck around- saying “WE ARE A TEAM!! WE CAN’T LEAVE NOW!!” Peter, Chris, and Stephen. Here we are:

So it was my turn to go and it just went by in a flash. It was such a rush. I was not scared at all.

After the initial jump and rebound I just dangled there, admiring the scenery and screaming “HALLELUJAH PRAISE THE LORD YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!” and hearing my voice echo throughout the valley. Then before I knew it I was back on the bridge, so euphoric:

 The came the task of encouraging my roomie Diana to go. She had major doubts but peer pressure turned out to be too much. The British guys were NOT going to let her off that bridge unless she did it. (To be read in a British accent) “YOU WILL REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IF YOU DON’T DO IT” And she did! Awesome. Great great great experience.

After a pit-stop for lunch at the hostel we headed to Tstikamma National Park, not knowing a thing about it. SO GLAD WE DID. It is right along the coastline of the Indian Ocean! We frolicked a lot. We went on a beautiful hike. We took a ton of pictures. Here's a taste:

I did cartwheels and handstands EVERYWHERE. Duh.

Then it was back to the hostel for a much needed shower and great meal, then bed time!

The next morning was not so great- rainy and our bus was 2 hours late. Oh well. The ride back was much nicer than the ride down and the scenery was GORGEOUS. I listened to music nearly the whole 9 hours, letting my mind go wherever it wanted. 


On Saturday I went to a crumping battle which was pretty cool. There were B boys, crumpers, this AWESOME beat-boxer, and MCs battling in Afrikaans. pretty cool! it was like "Step Up 2 The Streets- CAPE TOWN" The event was actually sponsored by Sprite and was called "Da Cape VS Da Rest". No joke.

now its back to the grind. i might be switching internships as there is not enough for 2 people to do at Molo.

Hope everyone is well, miss and love you allll!!

The Plight of a Pianist

In this world, if you don’t own a piano, I have found that you must be proactive in finding one to play. How I envy thee, guitar and fiddle players, who can so easily transport your instruments wherever you please. Play it on a mountaintop? Sure! Bust it out for a jam session in the woods? Sure! For us pianists, it is not so easy. One must search, be persistent, and occasionally sneak. I have done all of the above since my arrival in Cape Town and have seen some success. On Wednesdays, I go to a German church up the street and play from 5-6 pm. Arranging this took 3 weeks, many visits and strange looks from the Pastor and his family. Now they know me and expect me and it has worked well. I sit alone in a sanctuary and play as loud as I want….. PRAISE.

My next piano-searching adventure happened at the Mount Nelson Hotel in downtown Cape Town. First I must engage in a little side photo-story and tell you why I was there in the first place….

High Tea!

 What happens when 14 young American women get all dolled up, go to a ritzy hotel, drink tea, eat crumpets and things of the like?

We pose.

This was a really fun afternoon. The food = delicious. But by far the best part of this experience was meeting Maggie, the pianist for High Tea. Maggie is probably in her 80’s. She does not read music. She plays everything by ear and from memory. She can barely see. She is phenomenal. I talked to her for a while and was so thrilled at the prospect of learning some of her tricks. I told her I would come back soon and listen to her again. I then asked some of the staff if it would be alright if I came in during times when they weren’t busy and played. They seemed delighted at the prospect and told me to talk to their boss who happened to not be in that day. I told them I would be by the next day.

So, the next day I got all gussied up again and was so excited to talk with Maggie and the boss man. However, on my way into the tea area, I passed by the ballroom. Unlocked. I thought BINGO, they must have a piano in here. Low and behold, they did! It was perfect; a dimly lit room with crimson carpet, chandeliers, and completely empty except an unlocked grand piano. I almost peed my pants. But I had to stay focused; I had to go see Maggie! Thus I told the piano I would be right back. I hurried over to see Maggie and told her how excited I was at the prospect of playing at some point. I thought she would be really supportive of this, but I was pretty surprised when she SHOT ME DOWN and was like, “Oh no no no, they wont let you do that. We have foreigners come in and they ruin the pianos, they just can’t play.” Wow, way to give a girl a chance, Maggles. I then said that maybe I could just play the one in the ballroom if no one was in there and she said that “Oh no no no, the staff would be VERY upset if they saw you doing that, VERY upset.” BUZZKILL. DAMN MAGGIE, CAN I LIVE???

Thus, I told her with a smile that I was disappointed but that I would continue to look elsewhere, hoped to still see her and learn from her sometime, thanked her, and left. I could have just walked home from there, disheartened. I almost did. But listen, when you love something as much as I love the piano, sometimes you may act irrationally. Or perhaps just rationally enough. I started to walk home and passed by the ballroom and thought, (excuse my language) but F*CK IT, Maggie doesn’t OWN the piano, she simply suggested that I not do it, she didn’t explicitly tell me not to. So I went upstairs, sat down and played cautiously for about 30 minutes. During this time 2 employees, one white one black, smiled at me and told me to keep playing. One of them even turned on the lights for me! Even if I wasn’t “supposed” to play the piano, the worst thing they would have done would be to tell me to leave, which I graciously would have done and apologized and sweetly smiled. You gotta play the game.

Thus, the conclusions of this social/musical experiment:

If you look like you know what you’re doing, most people wont ask what you’re doing.

If you look nice and dress the part, people won’t ask what you’re doing.

If you’re in South Africa and white, black workers wont ask what you’re doing.

 Racist, you say? No, just true.

That’s why I love piano- you have the white keys, you have the black keys, and in combining them you can make the most beautiful sound. Unless you’re in the Key of C, in which case you’re just a white supremacist.

JUS KEEEEDING. 


So yes, finding a piano is difficult. However, absence does make the heart grow fonder. My 1 hour at the German church on Wednesdays is one the sweetest of the entire week. I cherish this time, I think of nothing else while I play. Working to find a piano makes it all the more fun too, depending on how you look at it. It's a thrill to stroll over to the Mount Nelson Hotel Ballroom, hoping it will be unlocked. You fiddle players out there (one special one in particular....) may see this solely as an inconvenience but oooohh, the risk can be so sweet, so rewarding. So sure, I may be out of practice. Sure, I'm not writing as much I would maybe like. But taking time off from the things (and people) you love the most often makes the time spent with them all the better.

Where my whales at?

...From the front to back- now are you feeling that? Put one fin up - can you repeat that? Tryina eat my krill see I don’t need that, so don’t breech yourself.

I realized today that this is the 4^th straight year that I have been to the ocean on the last weekend of September:

2006= Wrightsville beach with Mariah

2007= Penzance, England with my London semester roommate Katherine

2008= Wrightsville again with a great group of people including my new roomie Diana!

2009= Hermanus, SA to go……..

Whale Watching!

WHOEVER THINKS LOOKIN AT SOME WATER WAITIN FOR AWHALE TO JUMP ISNT FUN IS WRONG.

It is totally fun.

Today a group of us headed to Hermanus, a place southeast of here on the coast to the annual Whale Festival. Turns out there is just something magic about this weekend and all of these sweet little whales just want to come and give a show to thousands of spectators! We got about 2 good hours of watching in and then it started to rain hardcore, so we headed back.

But may I just comment on the drive down? We drove along the coastline pretty much the whole way. During that drive I had some time to sit, look at the ocean, and listen to some music. I got a little homesick for Carrboro as I listened to some Mandolin Orange tracks (DANG THAT EMILY FRANTZ CAN SING). I got really sentimental (who, me?) thinking about how talented my friends are and how lucky I am to know such inspiring, beautiful, driven people.

Then I started to notice the scenery. Both the drive to Cape Point and the drive today reminded me of driving around the Isle of Skye in Scotland when I turned 21. The landscape looks eerily similar, the mountains look almost identical. On the one hand I was like, “Well dang, this looks just the same! I’m tryin to see something different!” but then I immediately found comfort in these similarities; that all over the world mountains are mountains and rocks are rocks and however they choose to be combined is beautiful.

Ill write more about my internship at a later date… right now its just more fun to do Weekend Updates! In brief I am frustrated with how little there is to do and how it is very different than I expected. The first week was AWESOME, but now that project is over, the information is in, and the next steps are out of our hands. We proposed to do another project but no one really took it seriously…. Earlier this week I wrote this in my journal:

“Today I realized how easy it can be to say what you don’t want, and how hard to say what you do want. At my internship I DON’T want to sit in front of a computer all day wondering what I could be doing and doing bitch work like make PowerPoints.”.. which is basically the extent of what I did this past week. This week I was planning to go on a Leadership Camp that Molo is doing, but turns out they didn’t really need my help and that it would be a waste of my time to go. So now I have the week off and hope to

a)     visit other people’s internships

or           

b)   go bungee jumping (?)

c) both

I’ll let you know what I decide.

PS Andrew flies to France tomorrow!! Everyone send him good thoughts!!!!!!

my semester:

 http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/07/20/104-unpaid-internships/

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/01/23/19-travelling/

About a week ago I dreamt this poem, woke up and wrote it down, and rediscovered it today:

 “Christmas cards.

At the end of the night

All you’re staring at

Are pieces of paper on the window-sill

Tell me brother

Do you want some birthday cake?

Or is it time for you to go to bed?”

 Who knows.

 On another note, here are 10 things I’ve noticed thus far.

   1) Stoplights are called “robots”

   2) Lettuce/greens on a sandwich are called “rocket”

 3) What we know as Cheetos come in 2 varieties:

**Simba Puffs (‘healthy’ and good as hell) or Nik Naks (3^rd ingredient is MSG)

4) Mini-buses are called taxis, taxis called are cabs, and cabs are expensive

5) Students are called “learners”, and teachers are called “educators”

6) There are bins for dog waste. They are literally called “poo-bins”

7) Conversion from R to $ is stupid and cannot be done in my head very easily. Ok, just divide everything by 7.6, right? BAH.

8) There are fake boobs everywhere, especially at the gym

9) Best thing ever= Devil’s Peak and Table Mountain and Lions head are all around me, and the beach is only a 10 minute cab ride away. I’m surrounded!

10) Worst thing ever = FALL ALREADY HAPPENED, YALL. IT’S SPRING. Which is ok because it’s really beautiful here, but I really, really, REALLY have an insane, Earth shattering law-defying love for fall in North Carolina. To me, September= an Earth, Wind and Fire song and FALL. So this is the biggest/worst adjustment.

So now it is Sunday. Laundry day. Thus I take my computer to the laundromat (where the first time I went I was greeted by an old crazy man who looked at me inquisitively and yelled “ARE YOU AUSTRIAN!?”) and do incredibly important things like 1) pretend to finish my paper on China, Sudan and DRC 2) Write this in a word doc which I will later copy/paste onto the webbbbb. (I’ll do my paper when I get home, for real).

 Since I last wrote, things have been first exhausting, then wonderful. Work with Molo varies, I’m either at a high school talking about HIV with the learners or in front of a computer for hours typing up surveys which will be sent to the Dept. of Education. 

Extra fun story- my fellow Molo Songololo-er and new BFF Anne Marie had a great experience the other day. For those who don't know, "Molo Songololo" means "Hello, caterpillar!" in Xhosa (or Afrikaans.... we dont know which one. puddin for brains). The other day while giving interviews, a teacher walked into the room Anne Marie was in and said, "Molo." Anne Marie nodded happily and replied with "Songololo!!" But he was not asking who she was affiliated with, he was simply saying, "Hello." And she replied with "Caterpillar!!"

ANYWAYS, my dear friend Monica sent me this link, which gives great insight to where I am and what I'm working with. Molo works in Khayelitsha.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/world/africa/20safrica.html?hp

Friday= 2 class presentations back to back. BAHH. Went well. As Jaki would say, “It’s whatever.” Go home, chill, go to bed. Long week over. Whew.

 Saturday= officially my day off, always has been. No homework allowed, PERIOD. So I took it upon myself to gather a group to go to Camps Bay, what a friend of mine calls the most “chi-chi” part of Cape Town. Boy, was he right. I seriously thought I was in Malibu. It looks IDENITCAL. All these nice restaurants, glistening blue water and mountains, equipped with fake looking white people, expensive cars and things of the sort. The water was freezing but that didn’t stop Anne Marie and I from hopping right in. The water felt great!! It was so nice to soak up some sun (with SPF 45, of course) and relax on the beach. As soon as I got home I went on my first outdoor run around my neighborhood, Tamboerskloof. It is quite hilly but also safe, so I just let it rip! I only lasted about 10 minutes, but I was proud of myself. Running with Table Mountain right next to you is quite an inspiration. I guess it was a combination of a full day in the sun and a hill-filled run that made me pass out at 8:30 pm with the lights on. I woke up at 6:30 am and thought “YEAHHHHHHHH GET THAT REST”

Now for a full week at Molo Songololo, in which I will most likely be writing a proposal with my co-worker Masixole to train young men to be “community HIV educators” which will probably take some time. No more work at schools this week, mainly computer work. Oh well. Maybe one day I’ll sneak off and help my roomie with the musical she is working on at her internship….

Afterall, they totally need gymnastics in “Annie,” RIGHT?!

Truth, Witchcraft and Mannequin Heads

Wow, I've been updating a lot. There's just so much going on!! This might be a long one folks. Get cozy.

And the brain spillage begins….

 Today we went back to the school we went to yesterday and did a focus group discussion. In the room were 10 Xhosa (and English) speaking teenage males, my new friend/elite/co-worker Masixole (also male), and myself. We were doing a discussion on how HIV is affecting the students, what the school is doing in terms of HIV education, and what they as students want to see done.

Let me start with some truths:

 For a while I kind of thought I was cool for teaching sex education in Tanzania.

However, this does NOT make me cool.

Granted, that was such a powerful experience and I’ve talked to a number of my family members and friends about it and how it deeply impacted my life. This truth is not to undermine that experience or strip anything away from it.

I guess I’ll try to explain it like this: I think I’ve come to a point where my younger self from just a year ago feels SO YOUNG. Tanzania was such a great exposure to my own naivety; which some of you know I’m addicted to. I am feeling that same exposure now in a different way and also realizing how young I was in Tanzania. When I got home from that experience, it’s all I thought/talked about. I talked to lots of people about what I did. Now, I feel like shutting up. Now, I am in South Africa, slightly less naïve, a little more realistic but just as driven.

Today I realized to the fullest extent than I can at this particular moment that there is so much more to be done, and so many people that do this kind of educating every day without batting an eye or a skipping a heart-beat. This hit me because today, I had pretty much the exact same talk with this group of young men that I had back in Tanzania with a group of young women. Today, when asked these young men what they would do if they found out they were infected with HIV and had to tell their girlfriend, one young boy said with a laugh that he would not tell her, have sex with her anyway, then kick her out. FLASHBACK to the Tanz. When these girls were asked what they would do if they really wanted to have sex and did not have a condom, they all said with a laugh that they would do it anyway. I was hit in the heart both times. My reaction was stronger the first time. I punched my fist on the table and yelled NO. Today, I was internally OUTRAGED but tried not to let it show too much. Instead I put my gameface on as best I could and told him with my best Dot Houlditch scary voice (love you, Mom) that there would be nothing worse than that, and I hope that if I can change his mind about ANYTHING it would be that exact statement. He seemed to listen. I hope he did.

 This does not make me cool.

 Anyway. This whole difference-making kick we’re all on. Sheesh. What a crazy thing. On a level I hope I do, but today was just a truthful all-encompassing realization that WHO CARES. This is not a frustrating realization, just an honest one, and one that will make me shut my mouth until I feel I have actually contributed an amount worth talking about. But who decides that? Dot Houlditch or Nelson Mandela? Thus, for me as an individual here in SA that means what I hope for with this internship is the opportunity to talk to youth one by one. Trying to dig deep, deep, deep in their minds to the deep-seeded and often false assumptions about HIV/AIDS. However, sometimes this is complicated with beliefs such as witchcraft. Who the hell am I as some white chick from America to tell these South Africans that what they believe spiritually is wrong? I tried to explain today that you can only get HIV in certain ways and that it is found only in 4 bodily fluids (which they did not know). Then they told me that a witch doctor can infect you by waving at you. I said this was incorrect and was met with a bunch of “NO! IT’S REAL!” and looks that screamed “you dumb white girl.” It is this kind of cultural difference that I don’t feel just in trying to expel. I can only tell them what I know.

I did gather this- they WANT an HIV counselor at their school. If there were a forum about HIV, they would go. They want to do a play about it. They want to know more. They want condoms accessible at school because they have sex at school anyway. They want to be informed. And now it is Molo Songololo’s mission to try and mobilize a way for all of this to be possible.

 BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 ……On a final note, everyday on my way to the gym I pass by a house that has a trash bag full of bald mannequin heads on it’s porch. WTF, SAFRICA.

That’s it.

lovekaitlin

SAFRICA, always keeping me on my toes

Today I saw this on a survey that a 16 year old high schooler completed:

Q: What is HIV?

A: It is a body Jam

Happy Sunday!

Ohhhh it’s a chilly, cloudy, misty morning here in Cape Town! Quick updates:

Thursday: I finally made it to Molo Songololo and it is wonderful! It is in a great part of town called Observatory, which I kind of equate to the Carrboro of Cape Town; a nice college area with organic food shops. Within 10 minutes of being at the Molo office, we were thrown in a van and went to a high school in a township and gave a survey about HIV/AIDS to students (or as they say ‘learners’) and teachers. The questions were very thorough and interesting, dealing with general knowledge of what the virus is and also many about stigma of infection. It was crazy being back in a classroom of 40 teenagers and being the only white person; I couldn’t help but think of Second Chance in Tanzania. Anyway, we were there about an hour and on the way back I read some of the surveys. The most disheartening thing I read: 

Q: What is HIV?

 A: It is something that cannot be helped

 I saw this response a lot.

Back at the Molo office, we learned that we will be there from about 8:30-4 Monday-Thursday, some days in the office and some days out in schools. While working at a primary school and doing theater therapy was TERRIBLY enticing, in the end I’m glad I’ll be with a legit NGO that has been around for 30 years and am super excited about being an intern because I have never done anything like this before. Molo gets stuff DONE, yall. Check them out: www.molosongololo.com

Friday: Class day. I am actually really interested in the subject material. Can you believe it? Kaitlin interested in trade relations between China and Sudan? That evening I went “out” for the first time and remembered immediately exactly why I had not done so yet. CIGARETTE SMOKE. Yuck yuck yuck. Sorry Cape Town, but London gains yet another point against you for this fact alone. In London you can only smoke outside. Here? Just blow it in my face, why don’t ya. So, I danced a little and celebrated Eboni’s birthday at midnight, only to celebrate it so much more on…

Saturday!! Woke up PUMPED to climb Table Mountain. Eboni was having second thoughts, but I had to convince her there was no better way to celebrate her birthday! So her, Sarah and I headed up the Platteklip Gorge. It took about an hour and a half and it was pretty challenging. STEEP stairs the whole time. I had to sing “One Step at a Time” by Jordin Sparks to keep the morale up. Due to this I think Eboni and Sarah wanted to punch me at times, but WOOOOO WEEEEEE THE VIEW AT THE TOP WAS WORTH IT!!!!

Me, Eboni and Sarah

I had to do a handstand, DUH.

Feeling so accomplished we went home and showered up to go celebrate even further at Professor Lee’s apartment. Present were the 3 C’s, chips, cake and charades, thus a successful night. Group shot!

 This week is bound to be very busy, the first full week of being an intern, a 6 page paper due Friday on China’s trade relations with Sudan and DRC, as well as a group presentation on part of the South African constitution se in place in 1994.

Hope you all are doing well, soak up that autumn air for me and send some this way.

Love to everyone!!!   ~ Kaitlin  

INTENSE.

thats the only word i can use to describe the past few days.

we have been on the road from 8:30- around 5 pm the past few days, going to every internship represented on the program. lots of introductions, lots of inspiration, lots of everything. i dont think i am alone in saying that we are all pretty overwhelmed with what we have seen. 

today alone we went to the burn unit in the Red Cross Children's Hospital, a battered women's shelter, a rehab center for teenage boys, a clinic full of screaming babies in a township...... all within a few hours of one another. a frustrating part of all of this is that we spent so long at everyone else's internship that it was too late to go to mine!! everyone else got to see everyone's, meet and greet the staff, be introduced, yadda yadda yadda. oh well, i have 3 months, ill be fine!

perhaps the one i am most jealous of is my roommate's! she is working with a local actor at a primary school doing theater therapy. on our visit there today, they had their choir and dance group perform for us. AGAIN I GOT ALL CHOKED UP BECAUSE I CANT HELP IT AND MUSIC JUST GETS TO ME. it was really beautiful. i might have to stalk her a little and work there too....... wow.

so many great things happening, so hard to keep up with it all, so hard to keep my heart in my chest, so hard to not yell "I WANT TO DO THIS TOO!!" ( i actually do yell that sometimes), so hard to try and keep my head on straight. 

....yet so easy is how i have it. 

more later when i actually find out what the hell molo songololo is........

(to the tune of 'Carmen SanDiego)

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS:

MOLO SONGOLOLO?