Maeve's collection of thoughts from the past few weeks

The one thing that I really can't get used to is the transformation of the scenery on our drive home. We pick up Eddie last in Khayelitsha and then drive past Mitchell's Plain, Philippi, Langa and Mowbray. In Khayelitsha, the one room makeshift settlements made of sheet metal are cramped into dirt patches with portable toilets at one end of the expansive settlement and trash everywhere. These people have electricity from the government, although it’s not as if they have much use for it. These houses slowly transform into identical red-roofed tan houses in neat lines set up by the government to handle the massive population overflow after the apartheid. There are dirt roads and pathways in between the houses and it’s a complete grid formation. Finally, we start to see houses you would expect in any suburb in the US. The houses gradually increase in size as we get closer to Rondebosch and they are set up in neighborhoods with paved roads and yards for kids to play in. Each house has a wall with barbed wire on top for protection and more and more houses have alarm systems. The schools in this area have big fields for the learners to play sports. These commodities, alarms, yards, walls, are important in any area of Cape Town but in the poorer townships there is simply no money to be used on something that is less important than having food for the family. There is no doubt that we have crossed some invisible line on our drive which separates the poor from the privileged and the fact that these two completely separate worlds exist so close to each other will never be something I can get used to. Especially as I hear stories about how the children and adults on our side of the line don’t bother crossing to see what the townships are really like. Joe Schaffers pointed this out at our Thank You dinner for our internship supervisors: he said that he was impressed with our program and us as people because we come from a completely different country and throw ourselves into working in the townships to make a difference whereas people who have lived here their whole lives will never see that side of the Mother City. I believe that this beautiful country can’t fully heal until these invisible borders are crossed and the better half sees how the other half lives. Because only then can you understand the true legacy of the apartheid and how far South Africa still has to go before they can begin to move on from the horrors of their past.

As I looked out the window on our drive back from the game reserve my thoughts drifted to the hurricane ravished Jersey shore. When I went to see the damage in November it was a stormy day that nearly broke my heart. The place that I’ve loved since I was a child was torn apart at the seams: houses split in two or moved down the street, debris everywhere, toilets on the beach, doors in the middle of the road, houses with huge red x's on the door marking them condemned; this wasn't the place I've come to know and love. And yet it was. The people I saw were working together to clean out each other's houses. There were volunteers gathering debris and checking houses for salvageable items. Most of all, you could sense the determination to make this place what it once was. As I'm looking out the window driving back to Cape Town the sights are similar but the attitude is different. Because this is the best it can be for them. Trash on the side of the road and a cracked roof are normal sights, not a sign of a natural disaster. While we restore the shore, the people here would be happy to live in those houses just as they were. And as heartbreaking as it is to realize the differences across the ocean, what makes any place truly special is the people. The determination and loyalty and love among the people is what makes the Jersey shore a second home to me and what makes the townships and suburbs of Cape Town home for the natives here. When you have family and friends surrounding you it doesn’t matter if you’re in a 5 star restaurant or sitting on folding chairs in the street. The sense of unity and community that we found throughout out time in Cape Town has been truly inspirational as we were welcomed with open hands and hearts into the lives of every single person we met. This unity isn’t because something happened, like Hurricane Sandy, it’s a way of life here. Everyone is there for every other person whether they need a meal or clothing or just someone to talk to. It was an honor to meet the people who make Cape Town what it is and I am beyond grateful to have had the opportunity to see their home from their point of view.

The main question I've been asking is does it wear off? The beauty, the joy, the excitement, the awe. Does it ever go away? Whether it be Table Mountain or the scenic drive to Aquila or seeing animals in their natural habitat. Does it wear off? And most of the time the answer has been no. The first person I asked about this was Ben and he told me that each day as he drives to work the sight of Table Mountain seems unreal. Even though he’s lived here for 5 years, the beautiful sights around Cape Town never normalize. And that's what makes this place so incredible. This place can mean Cape Town or South Africa or even the world. Because there is so much beauty worldwide and it doesn't normalize because we still get amazed by small acts in our everyday lives. A butterfly lands on your finger and the vibrant colors inspire awe and amazement, or a waterfall cutting through jagged rocks down a mountain as it flows into a glistening stream. No matter how many times you see the same space it’s never fully the same because change is constant and inevitable, especially with nature. Every day when I see Table Mountain it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time. I have seen Table Mountain 30 days in a row and I can honestly say the view is never the same. I’ve seen the sun rise and set over the mountain casting different colored rays across the weathered rock as the light interacts with the shadows from the trees. Some days there’s clouds covering the mountain in its entirety and other times it’s just a clear blue sky or star-filled navy night. But beyond the physical beauty in front of you is the emotional connection which you forge with the mountain during your time here. Depending on your mood or what you learned that day the mountain appears differently. On a bad day, the mountain is a welcome reminder that you’re almost home, that you can relax because the hard part is over and the mountain is there to comfort you. On a good day, the endless wonder returns to you as you stare up at the magnificent natural monument in front of you. Table Mountain serves as a lookout for Cape Town in its entirety; a protective gaze from up above as we weave our way through township after township and around the coast. It’s going to be a big change waking up in the morning to the two trees in my front yard instead of this magnificent piece of God’s artwork with the early morning rays splashed across its face. It never goes away: the awe, the wonder, the joy, the memories. My time here will never end because I have the memories to take me back whenever I want to return and because I can pass on what I’ve seen and learned to others. And when the memories don’t suffice, I’ll have to buy my plane ticket back because there’s no way I can stay away forever.