Cape Town

21/11/2013 Waterfront, Cape Town, South Africa

You know when you meet someone amazing and they make your heart stop, and your whole being dizzy with excitement? You would be prepared to do reckless things for them and find any excuse possible to talk about how happy and excited they make you, and how you’re so lucky to have discovered them. Many people find the love of their life at 22. I found Cape Town. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel the impulse to keep wandering. I don’t feel nostalgia for the Balkans, let alone Canada. I don’t need to keep exploring, because I found it. The place I want to spend the rest of my life in. The place that warrants shamelessly dramatic proclamations and a gazillion images. It should be on everyone’s bucket list to see it. The bottom of the world. The mating cradle of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans. By far the most dynamic, sexy, and exotic city I have ever had the fortune of discovering.

All these years I thought that maybe I’m just a sad person. Maybe I’m just incapable of feeling genuinely content. And perhaps that’s partly true. A couple of things in my past have definitely left scars, and the world is a predominantly terrible place. It’s not easy to block that out. But I don’t think the problem is just inherent in me anymore. I feel like I belong here.

Vancouver is a place where people subterfuge their empty loneliness with alternative lifestyles and facebook profiles. The word "hipster" ring a bell? You could say my own lifestyle is pretty alternative, but what I mean is that in Vancouver it feels contrived, artificially manufactured. I don’t say this to hurt or offend anyone at home, it is just the assessment I’ve developed over the years. Cape Town is like the authentic version of Vancouver, with stunning landscapes and equally as stunning cultural vibrancy. And the infrastructure! You can find anything you need here, including free health insurance. It’s an extremely livable city. The most so I’ve ever come across actually. And this isn't an exaggeration.

The irony of falling in love with the world’s “most dangerous city,” after a life time of my parents doing all they could to shelter and protect me. It is farther from both of my homes than I ever expected, but in a matter of days, this has become the only home I want. For many years I missed Montenegro terribly, and now, although it will always be special to me, I feel as though if I never saw it again, it might not be the worst thing. I’ve always been torn between loving its intense raw beauty and despising much of the mentality there. As for Vancouver, despite appreciating the openness and sense of security, I’ve always found its aesthetics superficial and its culture amateur and shallow. Cape Town is the best of all worlds. Although I am happy to go where I need to for now, I know I will return to Cape Town. I feel that this place can soothe the myriad insecurities that used to compel me to always long to be where I am not. 

Needless to say, all my former life plans are shot to hell. 

I MADE FRIENDS! 

To see this after 2.5 months of being land locked was absolutely thrilling

Table Top Mountain

I have never been more sad to see a city disappear. But I'll be back.  

P.S. I am now back in Botswana for 10 days in which I will complete my projects and say a surreal goodbye to this wonderful organization and this alternate reality I have had the privilege of exploring for the past 3 months. 

I'm feeling good, I'm feeling ready.

Africa, you have done me good. I'll be seeing you.  

Almost Home

First off, let me note one thing.

There is no wisdom that human beings can establish as being true beyond the subjectively coloured moment in which a particular phenomenon seems to apply to their universe. In the past 2 months, I have experienced more upheavals, ups and downs, and lessons that meant something in the morning only to be disproven with nightfall, than I could have ever imagined.

I’ve learned a lot whilst here, that is an incontrovertible fact. However, I am often struck by the transient nature of knowledge. Something that seems to govern the way I live my life one week can be entirely irrelevant the next.

For instance, let’s say that my stay in Botswana can be divided into the three months I am here for. The first month was a horrific blur of culture shock, fear, and anxiety about this commitment I had, perhaps foolishly I thought, gotten myself into. The second, a euphoric breeze which passed in the blink of an eye as I got more immersed into my position and life here, and as it became increasingly apparent that this is the single most rewarding thing I have ever done with my life.

Now, commencing the last leg of my stay, I feel.... different. I am quite aware of the fact that there is very little time left. 25 days to be precise. At once this feels like a short and long amount of time. It feels short because it is less than a third of my entire placement so comparatively it is a small period. But it is also long because knowing that I’m so close to leaving but that there is still a substantial chunk left makes it feel like I’m in this nebulous in-between place again, kind of like during my first month, when my headspace was anything but in the moment. I would say that the second month was the most wonderful part of this journey, because that was when I fully engaged this whole experience and forgot about timelines or deadlines, and just existed, marinating in all the daily lessons and stimuli of living here. This life had become normal and comfortable, but every day was somehow invigorating.

Now, it is difficult to keep looking at this as normal life even though I’m quite used to it. In my head I’m already packing, already distancing myself psychologically. I feel like I’ve already gotten so much out of this experience and given that I’m leaving so soon, it’s hard to stay grounded and connected to what I am doing. A truly exacerbating factor is the oppressive heat. I’m talking 37 degree average. I’m talking sweat in parts of your body you didn’t even know could sweat. One thing is enjoying 40 degrees during a Montenegro summer, on the coast of the Adriatic Sea, with some of the most perfect, translucent water in the world just a 10 minute walk away from my apartment. Another entirely is sweating my balls off working in development. No air conditioning, just a fan that after 12pm blows nothing but hot air and your own sweat back at you. I have almost fainted many times. Oh and let’s talk about pms and menstruation, shall we?! Yeah, I said it. The whole past week has been an emotional disaster as my hormones wreaked havoc on my system. Now, I’m feeling much better (especially since I got rescued by a Serbian family for the weekend and spent it eating Serbian food, drinking wine, and swimming in their beautiful pool). But let’s face it, this is a bloody mess. I’m sure I don’t need to paint this particular visual, but I will anyways to vent. Picture your whole body profusely sweating from every possible pore in your body. Now add sticky floods of blood, which you sit on all day. And that’s just the physical discomfort. What happens to your hormones is equally horrendous.

So although I love the sun passionately and this has truly been an iridescent injection of Vitamin D... I’m ready for winter.  Still though, I relish every second of this. For all the amazing perks of a summer of floating in the sea, this is the most personally gratifying thing I have ever done. For more reasons that I can count and in great part, because it is so difficult. I have never felt stronger and more calm and satisfied.

The one thing I still worry about is my relationship with the kids. As I got to know them all better, I developed close bonds with some of them and looked forward to coming into work and getting to hug them every day. Now, with the encroaching heat strangling every ounce of energy from the staff, it is difficult for the children to receive the kind of energetic care they need and deserve. Sometimes I lose sight of just how valuable they are. When all my body and mind want to do is lie on a bed of ice, it’s extremely draining to run around doing everything that needs to be done in a given day, as well as to maintain a sincerely enthusiastic, loving demeanor with the children who individually need immense care. I am one person. One young, inexperienced person. I am working on it, and this has given me tremendous perspective on what it’s like to care for vulnerable beings, the challenges and rewards that a job like this carries.

I wouldn’t want a long-term career like this, that much I have definitively deduced. I can’t afford to be emotionally involved in my work. I can’t handle the idea that if I have a shitty day, week, or month, I might unintentionally hurt a child with my bitterness and frustration. They feed off of our energy so much, especially when the language barrier eliminates verbal communication, and they can sense every bit of negativity you’re channeling. So the last thing I want to do is to have to always be on guard and nervous about how whatever I’m personally dealing with will affect the children psychologically. Especially these kids, who require a positive and lively space that they feel they can thrive in.

So this is where I’m at. It is brain meltingly hot. Clothing is an oppressive burden at this point. Work is insane and near impossible. Even falling asleep is a huge challenge. My roommates and I are torn between crying and laughing at the sheer incredulity of our freezing cold-adapted bodies plopped in the midst of a deep, southern African summer. I am writing this before bed with my fan aimed at my head, because any writing/thinking is damn near implausible during the day. But I am going to push through until the end and thereafter marvel at the fact that at some point, this was my life.

So long,

Milena 

Rant

This one doesn't have to do with Botswana, it's just a rant I felt like delivering after I read this article. It's an important topic and one that I think affects a large population. 

http://www.vanmag.com/News_and_Features/Do_Vancouver_Men_Suck?page=0%2C2#

This is fucking depressing.

Disclaimer: I don't enjoy generalizations, I've had some great dating experiences in Vancouver and it’s not like this is all on men while the women in Vancouver are perfectly divine.  

That being said, I do agree that the dating scene is suffering in Vancouver. And I have personally observed many of the male characteristics this article touches upon. I’ve met many dateable women there over the years - intelligent, kind, sexy, funny, interesting. Frankly, this just hasn’t been true for the men. I often consider switching teams because in some ways it seems easier. But that makes me sad because I do genuinely love men. Unfortunately I have not been blown away by the selection in Vancouver.

The article does mention the possibility that maybe this is in part a universal phenomenon of women disparaging about the men in their town.. maybe men worldwide are generally inadequate romantic partners? I don’t feel uncomfortable making a generalization like that because I think we can all agree there is ample evidence to corroborate the cliché of the adulterous and/or otherwise abusive male partner.  

However, I do think there is an issue in Vancouver especially. Maybe I feel this way because I know this city more intimately than I do other places, so its issues are more familiar and frustratingly salient to me. But the thing is, I’ve experienced a number of different contexts. Nowhere, that I have observed, are the dating relations between men and women so unnatural as they predominantly seem to be in Vancouver. It must be where the word “awkward” originated. It certainly doesn’t exist in Serbian, French, or Setswana..

I have been fortunate to have met some lovely men and have had some fantastic experiences. But I’m very selective and I rarely meet men whom I would consider going out with even once, let alone anything long-term. I hate to say it, I reaaaally do. But unfortunately most of the time when I have been asked out in Vancouver, I would feel like I’m settling if I were to go out with them. Not because I think I’m perfect...  I’m not so narcissistic as to think that unless Adrien Brody shows up on my doorstop I’m not going to consider any mere mortal. Of course not. But I’m also not going to be with men I don’t find attractive or deserving of being with me. That’s not arrogance, rather simply confidence and self-respect. And the thing that makes me sure that this isn’t all just in my head, or in the head of the woman who wrote the article, is that I don’t feel this way in other places. I’ve found that in many parts of Europe for instance, interaction between men and women feels much more natural and easy. Moreover, there are just more eligible candidates. It’s not hard for me to find an attractive (not just physically) male who I’d contemplate dating. Whereas in Vancouver I’ve often felt like maybe I just have to lower my standards in order to be with someone.

To comment on some of the specific characteristics the article states Vancouverite men are afflicted with, I do think that immaturity has something to do with it. I’ve met men who are able to hold a conversation and keep up with me. But not often. Even many of the ones who appreciate that I have a brain and big dreams seem to have emotional maturity issues. Not always, like I said. I have met some great guys in Vancouver (generally not born and raised there), this is not an attack on anyone in particular, even though it is obviously an overall reflection of my experience thus far. The concept of the “man-child” is extremely pervasive in this city.

And then you have the issue of chemistry. Even if and when you do find a person you really like, it’s not guaranteed that there will be attraction or a spark – after considerable contemplation, I’ve come to the conclusion that the spark thing is legitimate and not just something people made up. And even if they did make it up, it doesn’t change the fact that it is a pre-requisite for successful dating, at least initially. And so on the rare occasion that I meet a man in Vancouver whom I enjoy as a human being, respect and find interesting, chemistry isn’t a given.

Another disclaimer I should probably make is that I’m not particularly dateable myself. Amongst other issues, I have an obvious international habit that prevents me from comfortably opting to commit to someone in Vancouver. And since I’m not into casual hookups, I’m left in a situation where I basically don’t want to even try being with someone because I know I have a short timeline in which to make anything happen. It’s very discouraging.

In an ideal world, I could come home to Vancouver in between other things I want to do, and there will be a vast variety of quality male specimens I can spend my time with. Although seemingly irrational, this sort of thing isn’t all that crazy in many other places in the world where in short periods of time, I did manage to meet extraordinary men whom I didn’t necessarily have to spend a long time with to have a meaningful and memorable encounter, irrespective of anything physical.  

I do miss having a man in my life. Much more so than the physical aspects, which are important in their own right, I miss having a friend who is always there. Someone who can spoon away some of my anxieties and frustrations with this terribly daunting and difficult world. I may be independent, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be cared for. So this is hard, my lifestyle. As all my friends pair up with long-term partners, I’m traversing the world, insatiable for all the things the natural universe can show me. At this stage of my life, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I hope it won’t always be quite so lonely.

Thanks for reading,

So long! 

Two months

Yesterday I had an interesting situation.

I was drinking water in our kitchen when I felt something fly onto my leg. I sensed what it was before I saw it. Then I looked down and sure enough, the cockroach scurried away. Not fast enough though! My critter friend died a swift death.

Hi there!

So is where I'm at now. Since I last posted, we've had more cockroaches, scorpions, and many, many more spiders. It's not unusual for me to wake up with what I hope are just spider/mosquito bites. I've also spent another month in our creaky, enormous house. And finally, the heat is really beginning. Although it's been hot since day one, it was quite cool compared to the blistering heat that is settling in now. Hello November.
Before coming here, I was scared of so many things, and the thought of a cockroach on my body would have revolted me. Now I just get a kick out of killing these disgusting creatures, laugh it off, and move on with my day. No panic, no stress.

I've never been happier. Yesterday after Yoga, I just stood outside our house and reveled in the breeze - a blessing in the evenings. I'm just so appreciative, every day. To be here, and to do this. There have been so many challenges, and every day is a journey of its own. I never know what will happen. But that's the beauty of it. I've lived more life here in 2 months than I do in several years in Vancouver.

I don't even try to keep up with processing the changes anymore. Too much has happened and I'm in a totally different head space. It takes quite a lot to faze me these days. The other day I heard my roommate scream that there was a scorpion in our hallway. Excitedly, I walked out of my room to squish the hell out of him and go on to prepare my breakfast. Earlier this week, on the kombi ride to work, I thought to myself...there is so much simple pleasure in my life here. The breeze on my face, the absurd and hilarious social proximity (ie. squish factor), the scenery of Mochudi.. I'm starting to find it all so beautiful. I'm falling deeper in love with this place every week.

Time is absolutely flying now. I've got about a month left, and at the rate the last one has passed, I'm going to blink and it'll be time to go home.

Very mixed feelings.

In the first month, if my program had mysteriously shut down and I'd had to return to Vancouver immediately, I would have gladly welcomed the change of plans. I spent that time mostly overwhelmed and drained by the many factors involved with the transition. I was scared, intimidated by the numerous challenges of daily life, and even tempted to just quit and go back.

The worst thing was not being sure that I had made the right decision in coming here. So much was riding on that decision, it was extremely important that I don't fuck up and make the wrong one. I remember the first night in Botswana, I was at a homestay for the first week and I remember my house mom saying that I'll be targeted because I'm a white female. I also remember the people screaming prayer chants on the prayer channel which was always on.

I thought that maybe my family was right in thinking I shouldn't attempt this now. I didn't feel ready for the onslaught of culture shock. Can one ever be "ready"? But it couldn't have been any different. I'm always going to be drawn to alternative and crazy lifestyles, and endeavor to listen to my instincts with every major decision I make. I needed to come here, and it couldn't have been any different.

The whole first month was a period of adjustment, not least of all to the tempo and nature of the work. I felt completely unoccupied and in the way. I've said this before too, but can't emphasize it enough. Here, no one will order you around and tell you to do this at this time. It's expected that everyone find the niche they are comfortable in, and contribute as much they can. So I struggled to find that niche, and to make sense of it all.

Now, although there are still ambiguities and frustrating aspects about living and working here, for the most part I am extremely comfortable here. I get to do basically whatever I want to, whilst adhering to the overarching agenda of Stepping Stones. I've found my place here, and it's so, so rewarding!

I've gotten to participate in incredibly cool projects, as well as to engage some of my own. I even get to do Yoga with the kids! I can't tell you how happy that made me.

The challenging things now have less to do with cultural difference and more to do with universalities.

I didn't think I would fall in love with these kids as much as I have. I kept my guard up during the first month, not intending to get attached to these children whom I have to leave in a few months. I also found them difficult to deal with. This was partly because I'd never worked with kids before and didn't consider myself a "kid person," and partly because these particular children's worlds felt so different from mine.

The longer I am here, the more faint those differences appear. I don't even know when things started to change. All of a sudden, I realized I am happier than I've ever been and that these kids have so much to do with that. Their love is so pure, so energetic. I honestly couldn't tell you who's more attached, the kids or me. (probably me).

So now the issue is how I'll say goodbye to them, and to life in Africa. I'm excited to get back to Vancouver, to breathe in the fresh, cool air. And to see my family and friends. Definitely, I'm looking forward to it very much.

But I'm also content here, in a way I don't seem to be able to achieve in Canada. My life here is simple, pure, and rich. There, it's almost the antithesis of that. Hopefully I can translate some of the pleasures and lessons of my time here to my life there, but I do wonder how it will be to readjust to all of that.

Regardless, I'm thankful for everything I have. I'll find ways to keep travelling, learning, and building myself.

Ciao