Cape Town, South Africa.
January/early February 2009

I am in Africa; South Africa, specifically. I have been here for ten days, in which I have seen things I have never in my life seen or heard of or wanted to hear of. I have eaten animals that I didn’t think were edible and have seen division in places I wasn’t aware lines could be drawn. Ten days. What will four months bring? It’s what I keep asking myself. What will four months bring? Where will I be in June? Who will I be?

the plane ride:

New York took us to Cape Town, via Dakar, Senegal. The first leg of the flight I was seated next to a man from Senegal who hadn’t been home in twelve years. He had spent over a decade in the States producing music for artists such as Akon, T Payne, and Lil Wayne. He told me they were flying to Senegal for a welcome home party for him. This is the part of the story where the plane lifted off the ground and he touched my leg out of “fear.” If any of you see the name “Bo” in the credits of an Akon song please let me know, because as of now I spent six hours eating bullshit a Senegalese man fed me only to be touched because he was so “scared”. In the end I guess I go off alive. A little sexual harassment never hurt anyone.
The second leg of the flight I got two seats to myself and slept nine hours to South Africa. I woke up and asked the flight attendant how much longer and she said, “oh, only forty minutes.” I looked up and saw our little plane on the screen above my seat. Still over water. Cape Town in sight.

Landed.

Moving towards the front of the plane with my bag, I could feel the hot dry air filling the cabin. A wall of thick heat hit us and we were walking down a flight of stairs onto the hot tar. Shuttle buses took us to pick up our luggage. American girls peeled Louie Viuton suitcases off the baggage belt. I found Marisa and made my way to currency exchange. Ten to one. My one hundred U.S. dollars got me close to 1000 South African Rand. I am rich at home in oh so many ways. I am a millionaire here.

Walking out of the terminal we were greeted by our program. Dancing and clapping and singing for us. “C-I-EE…C-I-EE.” The awkwardness began. Marisa was the only face that I knew, and thank God for her. I would have felt so lost, or at least more than I already did. We left and made our way towards our first “Jammie” shuttle ride to the hotel where we would experience orientation for the next three days. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and confused. We stood in the lobby for close to an hour waiting for room assignments.

more to come!