full of hope

The last few weeks have been crazy. Between being surreally stranded in Cape Town due to a volcanic ash cloud and writing my first university exams, I feel I am only now coming back down to earth. However, the aforementioned chaos is not the only reason I have held off on blogging about our recent trip to South Africa. More than ever before, this trip left me feeling quite conflicted within myself. It’s strange to return to the country of your birth feeling as if you are able, to some extent, to view the politics, the people, the landscape and the culture from an outsider’s perspective. The first thing that hits me to my core is the poverty that so many of the people must still endure. My initial instinct is one of anger at those who have money for simply allowing this to continue. Yet I am all too aware that this is utterly naive. No matter how much money you have, it is not enough; it is not enough to help every person who still lives in a shack, who begs at every traffic light, who guards your car for hours on end for five Rand, despite his university degree. In Africa so many do what they have to do to get by. After two weeks I found that I had almost become desensitised. It happens so quickly.

Speaking to friends and family, the thing that strikes me is that everyone has an opinion on the state of the country. From power cuts to Julius Malema to hijackings and the cost of living what is most evident is one thing: hope. A land that seems to find so much of it’s identity in its differences, also stands united in how passionate people are about the country. There is little doubt that, despite hardship, many are willing to fight to right the many wrongs of the past. It’s hard to describe how this sense of hope infiltrates the country. I guess it’s a bit like listening to a song that really stirs you. You feel such a surge of emotion you almost wish that the song would just keep playing, that the melody would last forever. There is evidence of this in small and big ways; just between Fox and my families alone they are counselling those who grieve, helping fight crime as volunteer police, rescuing abused animals and buying local goods that they don’t necessarily need just to encourage entrepreneurs. Nor does it stop there. The work continues and I must admit I found it very hard to leave it all behind. Perhaps it was climbing one of the majestic mountains that dominates the city or staring at a turquoise ocean that rivals the brilliance of crystals; maybe the warmth of the sunshine or even just the encounter with a culture which is so familiar but I left South Africa this time with a big lump in my throat. And all worries that I had been numbed simply vanished as the flight circled the harbour to afford us a view of Table Mountain in all its glory. What a sight, what a city, what an incredible country.