Next stop Namibia

I haven't felt too busy or overwhelmed or too engrossed by pesky productivity here - At least I haven't felt those emotions, nor have I been obsessively occupied here the way I was at home. The United States has a different work ethic than the rest of the world, we have no restraint on our productivity - even if it's worthless and slow suicide. I have yet to feel that fussy, rushed feeling here that American society burdened on my life. Then again I know all that blame cannot be put on my country alone, but on myself as well. For that ridiculous unsettled irritation that lived within me, came out shouting whenever

I found an open slot in my schedule.

So here, in my new season, in my current home,

it has been very relaxing, very slow - yet productive.

And I look back over the last 112 days that I have spent here in South Africa's surf and a lot

has happened for me. I was able to participate in multiple learning environments from a variety of instructors - in order to gain knowledge and wisdom. I traveled the 681 kilometers from the eastern cape to the western cape. I have surfed in waters ranging in a temperature, from bearable to having my hands and feet blue and numb. Surfing in Strand I had the sun shining down on me, surrounded by locals with the wind whipping all of us across the face of those waves - gazing at the mountain range as it stood strong in it's beauty cradling the city along it's valleys.

I toured a winery and a township - seeing firsthand the extreme differences in cultures here in South Africa - between the whites and the blacks, between the conservatives and the radicals, between the rich and the poor, the old and the new... The harshness that separates the classes here is not a fine line, the extreme differences between personalities, world-views, and upbringings is acute and maximal. And yet it is the rainbow nation. And so different from every other country on our planet.

I have worked behind the stages, helping create structure and continue sustainability in the Aleph program as well as the National Conference;

One which has made me fall in love with 14 local boys, who's eyes are big and age is juvenile, who's tongues are sharp and experiences in abundance for their youth. Street boys, township boys, rude and respectful, scared and strong, full of fear, full of potential. My heart burns when I pray for them.

Being integrated in the infrastructure

here has made me fall in love with surfers, skaters and south africans.

I already loved surfing, skating and South Africa - but these days have attached me to the individuals behind the board.

I see individuals who love their sports, they find their identity on boards - individuals who are harsh and brash, who are too independent for their own good, individuals who know community, individuals who have souls that are being damaged by the world, who's flesh is being damaged by concrete waves. I see individuals who love - whether it's friends, their board, the Lord - they understand love and dedication.

And now After 112 days of living in South Africa's sun, I'm venturing out of South Africa. I leave Jeffreys Bay soon and then I depart from Cape Town Saturday morning headed towards Namibia. Swakopmond, Namibia that is. Driving up the entire West Coast of South Africa, 4 others and myself will go 2,114 kilometers from where I currently sit, outside of these border lines, placed on Africa's west coastline, placed in the middle of a massive desert. I am leaving Jbay, alone, to set out on this journey - because the experience was not just me leaving America, alone, the experience is life.

So while I'm on an adventure, I'm jumping on this vagabond wagon and and veering towards this new escapade. Because its the experience within the experience - and what you take from that, what you allow to shape and mold you from that experience - those are the exciting adventures, those are the escapades that color life!

See you in Namibia!

Sea wandering

This morning I awoke, read a bit and hit that pavement that curves all around J-bay. The hilly pavement led me astray to the sanded shore. As I walked up over a hill I sat, cradled in the sand watching a storm move on and another move in. The gray colors in the sky blended into one another overtaking the blue hues. With the billows beckoning to the sea, to mirror it’s heaviness.

I sat there, with the crisp chilled wind blowing across my face, burning my bare legs. I sat there on the shore, so far from home, where the water meets. Questions overflowed my heart and it was as if I looked to the sea for my answers. Set after set the waves echoed an answer to my heart; there is adventure ringing true in the depths of this world. Those small waves were crashing on the beach break, but they were just the aftermath from the severe and solid waves of massiveness that were playing beyond my eyesight in the sea’s hub.

Sometimes the silence is the most crowded place, when my thoughts begin to outgrow themselves and my dreams begin to outlive the realm of reality. So I found myself on this beach, 4 months into this adventure, toes in shoes and arms in sleeves, no sun to see but salt to smell. I found myself accepting this opportunity, exactly as it has come, exactly as it has woven itself into my life. I’m finding I’m not the same girl here that I was at home, not with people who know me – falling into days where it seems like I have nothing and no one. But honestly, it feels like falling into freedom.

“All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. This madness can be saving; it is part and parcel of the ability to adapt. Without it, no species would survive” Am I falling back on some form of inner madness? A madness that in reality keeps me sane and helps me move, helps me dance in the discomfort of formality of a society I have never longed to be a part of? A madness that is saving, because it really is part of the package. When you step out of your front door, and you leave security and you leave all you’ve ever known, even yourself, you have to have your feet steady on something in order to survive.

If you haven’t ventured, if you haven’t seriously stepped into that realm of unknown, into a land where you had to leave yourself and everything you once thought to be true than you, my friend, have no idea of what I am talking about. Because with this madness, when looking to the sea for answers, you don’t know the pain that comes with it. Unfortunately, you don’t know the gain either.

The sea beckons us, the unrevealed and the unfound, the adventure and danger, it beckons to certain souls. Igniting them with a flame that arouses a wanderlust that can only be fulfilled by those waves that are unseen to the people who stay on their own shores. It is those uncharted waves, those that are unrealistic, that can kill you, the ones you find in the stomach of the sea – It is those that keep the flame of the wandering vagabond satisfied.

Blue Eyes & Bones

It’s the beginning of fall, winter’s grand entrance here in Jeffrey’s Bay. With this season comes wind. A cold, strong wind. As my skin feels the change in seasons, my bones feel an urge. A wind going a new direction, a new season in life; I can feel it in my bones, right with that bitter winter wind.

Ian, Jonty, Tristan and I all stood there. My frame easily the smallest of our group; With Tristan and Ian both over six foot with bohemian brunette hair, Jonty just shy of their height with his cheeky blonde hair. We all stood there, 3 surfers and I – wrapped in hoodies, scarves, hats – anything to keep us warm. We stood on the sand, boots barely sinking in, we stood upon a hill with the wind hitting us as strong as it could, frigid and fierce. We stood there, staring at the waves.

A new swell has come to Jeffreys Bay, a swell that makes the surfer’s stoke. A swell that brings in waves that will be talked about along the coast, waves that will be respected. The waves came with an off-shore wind. My eyes absorbed in that alluring blue sea. We watched the surfers fight – they fought the wind, the cold, the current – they fought to stay. To stay, to play. Because you could look out upon bone-chilling water, with a biting wind and heavy, engrossing waves – and it could be ugly. But that was not today.

It was cold yes, but the refreshing, liven you up, type of cold. It was windy yes, but the reviving, new breath, type of wind. We knew each surfer was smiling out there, with each wave’s face being triumphed there was a new stoke planted. The waves were playful, inviting, enticing. The clouds, perfectly painted with accents and hues to kiss the gentle slopes that created each billow.

These blue eyes of mine, stared at a blue sea, at a blue sky today. These blue eyes of mine were entranced by a song that only the waves were playing, a song that nature fell in tune with – that my soul fell in love with. These blue eyes of mine, became the windows for these bones of mine.

These lessons I learn, I write – The refining I retain, I treasure – The challenges I conquer, I captivate. With new seasons, come changes. A change in the wind, a change in the temperature. I can feel it in my bones; a new direction, a new season – quickly approaching with fierce. And the stoke it has startled within my soul is … an urge, a fire, a desire, an arousal, it’s a feeling words cannot portray. A stoke that only a sea-bound sailor knows.

Exploration Mode... Not reporting mode

First off I believe I need to apologize, for not writing in such a long time. Blogging like facebook tends to get placed on the back burner of my life. And then I forget that I am in South Africa, alone - I easily forget when I am alone - and I remember I need to tell those dear ones at home what in the world is happening here on the other side of the world...

So, today is Wednesday, today was a long day for work - full of meetings and elongation of my 'to-do' list. But Sunday was spent in a car driving back to Jeffreys Bay from the Western Cape. I traveled to the Western Cape from Jeffreys Bay with two mates for ten days. No day by day blogging, or moment by moment capturing. But that's not because it didn't affect me, that's not because I didn't love it.

After only my third full day in Cape Town (which the first 3 days were full of touristic tourism) I came to a few realizations...

First off, the more you explore - the more captivating, enchanting, and enticing South Africa becomes.

Secondly, I have never physically-literally felt so up-side down in my life. I blame it on all of my map gazing that I have done throughout my years, I have the world's map ingrained in my head - so I could picture it [longitude and latitude and all] where I used to stand in the middle of America and where I stood on Cape Town's water front coastal shore line. I stood on a giant rock, gazing at the harbor watching the water flow to us from the South Pole, seeing the curvature of the earth flow with the mountain range. I had to check and see if the change was falling from my pockets because I felt like this soil was hanging me by my feet. It was the moment it hit me hardest, just where exactly I was.

And my third realization... I now completely understand why people argue for Cape Town - why they argue that she may be the most beautiful of all our world.

The atmosphere of Cape Town is breathe taking and addictive, the food ravishing and

the people, well okay Cape Town isn't packed full of South Africa's sweethearts, but majority of the people I've encountered have been quite lovely.

The winding roads, the strong sea scent, the countless accents, the delicious delicacies, the sophisticated yet aged architecture and the intriguing insight that resonates in each culture that makes up this melting pot of a city ... Well they have changed me. Changed my world, widen my views and my perspectives. They have entranced my heart with such a sweet, sweet aroma.

I'll write more descriptive accounts of exact places I went too, exact emotions I encountered. But this was my schedule for my ten day venture to the western cape...

Day 1: Driving (driving through green, fogged mountains - through villages and towns with locals and home-made jams)

Day2,3,4: Cape Town Tourism. Waterfront, Long Street. Going to bays, going to

shops, drinking coffee, sitting in book stores. Attending the Colour Conference.

Day5,6,7,8: Somerset West, Strand, Stellenbosch. Coaching surfing lessons. Office work and helping with a school program with a local ministry. Touring a township. Tasting at a local winery.

Day8,9: Kloof Street (known for their hipster chic-ness). Cape Town University (known for their stunning campus). Hermanus (known for their whales).

Day 10: Driving the garden route back to Jeffreys Bay. (passing mountains and forests, through tourist towns, and passing the world's largest bungee jump)

So, there truly is lots to tell. Loads of insights and revelations. Pictures that need to be spread from my memory into your imagination. Unfortunately, I am in exploration mode, I have been in introspective mode these past couple weeks - and that mode leads me no where near reporting mode.

USvsSA

What I miss from back home, back in the states:

relationships (of course, being blessed with absolutely ridiculous friendships and family, of course relationships are and always will be what I miss most when not on American soil)

Starbucks (as much as I wish I didn't miss that place, I miss it more than I expected. Nothing here even compares to the greatness of an iced coffee.)

rock climbing & camping (I do miss both of these activities, so much - but I think I miss the freedom, the independency that come with them. The ability to pack up my stuff and head out for the weekend alone. You can't do that here.)

I miss superficial American stuff, and my shopoholic is starving at the moment: REI, urban outfitters, anthropologie, thrift stores and flea markets galore.

I miss American vibe. Whether you are in the south and people are gloating over good 'ol 'merica. Or at the plaza in KC and families just enjoying the culture and surroundings. Or NYC, or LA full of hustle-bustle success driven individuals. There are downfalls, like the overwhelming consumerism (which is probably why I am a shopoholic). But still there is an American feel, that resides within the society we have become. The foundation that our forefathers first built our country on, still lives in our soil. There is a bond between individuals, you can trust people, you can see the good in people - or at least their intentions and desire to be good. There is a bond that connects Americans, all Americans of different status from different places - they care about people. And you can feel it.

I miss my jeep. my record player. my hand-made wool Indie stockings. I miss over-rated holidays. I miss my boxes and boxes of books.

But I do love South Africa ...

Just like home, here relationships are the most important, what I spend my time most thinking about. I love the people I spend my time with, I'm learning, I'm growing, I feel like I'm apart of a community that fights for one another and when they accept you, it's with their whole being.

I love South Africans as a people. They have this way to thrive for life, so see what really matters and what is worth your time and energy. It's a fresh of breathe air, being away from the consumerism bubble. South Africans love their country. And its easy to see why.

the Food. mmm, wow I have eaten some great food while being here! (I don't think America lacks great food, we definitely have AMAZING food - Joplin on the other hand, essentially I feel like I have been sitting inside a 5year olds lunch box and now I'm in the experienced hands of the guru natural chef)

I will have to re-write this list of what I love about South Africa. Because this time I have only been in Jeffreys Bay (I'm not thinking of my last trip here, that part of South Africa, Lesotho, is a world entirely different from this one.)

Jbay is safe (for South Africa) it's a small surfing holiday town living off of their tourism. I like it, I love Nina's and SuperTubes and the Lagoons.

But there is much, much more of this country that I need to see, that I need to explore...

But I like being here, I like being in this moment. This works for me.

this was monday. tomorrow is tuesday.

This weekend was a blur in my eyes. It went so quickly. Then again at the end of this week we will be entering into April. It went so quickly. This weekend I studied, I researched, I read, I listened, I wrote and I wrote. I ate chocolate and drank green tea. That was Saturday night.

I stood on the skateboard as Nathan, the small curly blonde 3 year old, pulled my arm. Along with pulling my limb he pulled the skateboard and Cailyn, his blonde 7 year old sister. We watched cartoons, we swung on the rope swing. Nathan got impatient, like any other 3 year old. Cailyn just wanted someone to play with her, like any other little girl. We ate banana bread as the westerly wind blew in through the glass windows that over looked the crashing waves. This was Saturday morning.

We left the house at 7am, driving along the highway, along the green vegetated road. Seeing wildlife, seeing townships, watching the mountains grow smaller in the background - We left Jeffreys Bay for Saint Francis. We turned into Saint Francis, passing the 'Wild Side' a part of the bay named for it's hectic waves that crash upon monster rocks and blow their wave back straight into the air. It is named correctly. We then found ourselves sitting in white lawn chairs behind our table with our 'Wors Rolls + Coke = R20' sign. We grilled wors (which is equivalant to America's bratwursts) and sold 30 of them to hunger surfers and gazers. We were set up on a patch of grass with a dirt trail at a feet, leading down the trail - the judges table, friends and families watching. Up the trail, cars, bikes, surf boards, and all of their owners. We were at a surf trial competition. You win this trial, you go onto the next and then you compete against the rest of South Africa - If you win there you join South Africa's surfing team. With the sun beating on my face and the wind blowing my dry, sunburnt legs I watched the waves rise and crash. They weren't even 100 yards away from me, the surfers bobbed, each one in a different color so the judge could differentiate. Each set of waves made you think it was a different sea, one set small and messy, the next

one following was double-overhead clean from the off-shore wind. Beyond these waves, that crashed at my toes I could see the other side of the bay. I was about a mile away and the waves were so large I could see them scoop the water up and then throw it down, playing too hard. They were just dancing in front of the mountain's cliffs that sat like an entranced audience. The whole sea opened up in this bay, I sat there watching the water just roll getting anxious from the groundswell below it, ready to grab some air and then explode into the sky. 6pm I sat in the car, with tangled wind-blown hair, dirty feet and sunburnt lips. By this time the wind was too chilly to be sitting in its path, by this time all the cars and bikes and surfboards left with their owners, by this time the sun was saying good night and the chokka boats were turning on their lights. We sat there watching the final four have at the last set of waves. By this time even the judges were all packed up, over the day's surfing. Eventually we too left the parking lot, every car, van, jeep gone - every longboard, shortboard, boogie board, skim board gone - every bike, piece of trash, towel gone. The land cleared and everyone went home done with surfing for the day, but the waves stayed - they kept rolling in and crashing (I'm sure). It didn't matter to them whether they had surfers playing on them, or sun warming them, they stayed whether it was for the late night chokka boats or for the twinkling stars up above - the waves stayed and crashed carrying on with their life. That was Sunday.

I had to work a shop-shift at CSA's thrift store, so I rode my bike up and down the hills to the shop. Got there hot and sweaty and took my spot behind the counter. Soon enough I was antsy enough I needed something to do, to read. I walked over, through the boxes, through the donations, passed the vinyl records and cassette tapes, passed the dishes and vases, across from the clothes, I walked to the book shelves. 'Vegetables' - I like veggies, I eat veggies, I'll read this. An old South African cookbook, with few recipes. It had pages full though of the art of vegetables, how to cook them, steam them, cut them, chop them. It made me want to go to culinary school - or just cook a really good meal that night. So, I rode my bike home, I borrowed the car, I drove to the grocery store, and I loaded up. I came home and cooked 'baked eggs and ratatouille with steamed cabbage and asparagus. And then I had gelato for dessert. That was Friday night.

Today is Monday - the start of a new week. The beginning of the end of March. Tomorrow is Tuesday, already it has come to fast. Tonight I cooked steamed veggies for dinner, tonight I will do more studying, today I worked in the thrift store. hhmmm.... Sounds like my life is stuck on the repeat button at the current moment. Doesn't matter though, the minimal things that fill my days don't effect the sun rising the next day, they don't effect April's coming, they don't stop the wave's sets from rolling in.

Simply Food.

Today, because it is a warm, sunny Saturday after a busy, productive week and because there is a chilly breeze blowing the tree's leaves and I'm wearing a over-sized wool sweater - today's writings will be on food. Although it probably has nothing to do with the easy, breezy Saturday - but more with that fact that I started my day of with home-made South African ripe fig jam & for lunch I'll be devouring my left overs from last night's baked eggs with ratatouille dinner.

Food. Something that we all can't live without, an item we have every single day. I have seen people destroy their lives because of food, idolizing it in some way or form. I have seen people change their lives with merely their diet. I have watched individuals succeed in life physically, emotionally, financially simply because of food. I think we over look the power food holds on a lot of individuals, I think we overlook the essence that lives within most foods.

Now food can be utterly disgusting. It can taste bad, smell bad, be bad for you. It can be loaded with repulsive ingredients and sold at revolting prices. It can make your tummy nauseous as well as overly plump. But I don't want to think about those foods, about processed, chemical-loaded, junk-filled, fast-served, stomach-turning foods. I want to talk about delicious goodness...

I absolutely love food! I love raw foods, raw ingredients. The idea of growing something in your garden, letting the earth and the rain and the sun do the work, picking that food and then being able to energize my body with it, warms my soul. I like natural foods, healthy foods; but what about my favorites...

The list could go on and on about my favorite foods; ham has always made my mouth water, I have an ever-growing sweet tooth, and on and on. But for this sunny breezy day, two foods I have learned I lust after: Pumpkin & Figs. Give them to me in any shape or form and I will devour them.

But on another edible note: what about South African food?? ... Well South Africa's top choice is always to braai, grilling meat over an open fire. Which I have grown overly-fond of. Now so far a lot of my food hasn't been ethnic Afrikaans, but it has been so deliciously scrumptious. You will find biltong (kind of beef jerky) and dried fruit around any corner. And a step up from their braais is when they have a potjieko (type of stew) which is, of course, divine. So, there are loads of food I have heard rumors about, loads of delicacies my mouth has already watered over. One edible item that I will eat until I'm sick is a roostercoek (essentially its a ham and egg sandwich, but only if you could see this bread and meat and egg, wow!)

To sum it up: Some food is bad. Some good. Some entirely divine. At one point, over-rated, at another not given enough credit. South Africa: beyond succulent. How ever you say it, nutrients, cuisines, edibles, rations, nosh, grub, chow - food is needed by your body and your soul. Not only a necessity, but a pleasure. It's common ground, anywhere in the world, with any individual.

Go eat. Eat something lip-smacking, finger-licking, nummy, yummy scrumptious. Feed your tummy & your soul.