So I wrote this for the blog I have to do for the program while I'm in Cape Town. I liked it so much I figured I'd throw it on here.
So I’m late again, I’m trying not to turn this into too much of a habit. Recently I’ve been really struggling to find something to write about…and then I went to my friend (well of our friend) Abongile’s (Bongi) soccer matches yesterday. Bongi runs a soccer program for youth in the township Khayelitsha as a way to keep them away from the omnipresent harsh realities of their lives, to give them a chance at rising above the situation that they have so unjustly been placed in. Anyways, this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his teams’ games but it probably the most important and memorable time.
Last time I went to a match it was with Marita and Jessica and it was on their home turf – Mandela Park in Khayelitsha. This time I went by myself and the match was held in dystopian suburbia…err I mean Calremont (quick aside – Claremont is actually a lovely place it just freaks me out, as do most suburbs since I’ve been here. It is just so detached from the realities of Cape Town that it’s frightening). Back on track, because of my singularity and new setting I think I was part of a unique experience.
The surface differences between the two clubs are apparent as soon as I walk through the gates to the fields. The teams from Claremont are predominantly white and classified colored while Bongi’s teams are universally black. It is an all too common separation harkening back to the Apartheid that is still one of the dominant social forces here. Differences went beyond color, the facilities in Claremont were newish and it was immediately clear which team had funding and which team had none, I’ll give you one guess as to which one is which. The most disheartening of the differences was fan support. Parents attending the game in support of the Khayelitsha Fire Fighters were sparse while there were plenty for Santos FC (this would be the Claremont team). This is not because there is a lack of parent interest in the Fire Fighters, au contraire I would guess. No, this is a burning indictment of the state of things in Cape Town and South Africa as a whole. Most parents simply can’t see their kids play for the Fire Fighters. Transportation is too expensive and if not that the parents are working, trying to scrape by so their kids can eat insufficient meals to give them the energy to play soccer. While this is something I’ve talked about with Bongi before it really hit me at these matches.
It took me back to my own experiences as a kid playing sports. I remember being able to look to the sideline and see my Dad holding the coaches clipboard for almost every sports season I ever played (3 sports a year from too young to remember to high school). I remember seeing my Mom standing and cheering from the bleachers or the collection of lawn chairs on the other sideline often holding a camera to add to our collection of home movies and offering her protection from sideline (sometimes I was certain during games that she would throw on the uniform just to make sure the other kids stayed off of me). I remember seeing grandparents and aunts and uncles, all there to support me – to watch me play football, basketball, baseball, and soccer; to watch me swim and later run cross country. Every game or meet or match I would see them all after, they would grin and bear it and tell me how great of a job I did even if I didn’t.
I went back even further into the recesses of my memory. I remembered the time in 5th grade when I failed the fitness test mile. I remember the embarrassment of an overweight kid who called himself husky to save an iota of self-esteem, a smidgen that was lost when he couldn’t even realize the benchmark of not being fat (simply passing). More important than all of this I remember my mother. I remember her walking with me to Duffy Elementary School the day after with a stopwatch where I ran and practiced. She would not let me quit until I passed that day. A few days later I retested and passed. As I look back on this moment I look at it as maybe the first seminal moment of my life – something I can look at and define myself with (hard work, determination, and never-say-die-attitude). I also realize something else, how my parents – in this case my Mom – were always there for me, always involved, always pushing me when I needed it and comforting when I needed that too.
This is such an immense privilege that I never fully realized until yesterday. In the past I’ve always considered myself ‘the self-made man.’ I’ve managed to tell myself that I am who I am because I am. I’m here because of what I think of as uncommon work ethic and drive. I’m learning that this is not the case at all. I’m here for a lot of reasons. I’ve always known that I am immensely fortunate, that my ‘hardships’ are borderline laughable, I’ve never been more keenly aware of that as I am now. It broke my heart yesterday when I realized that many of these kids have never had that feeling of comfort, security, and confidence that comes with looking to the sideline and seeing parents and family cheering them on.
I was in the middle of despairing about this when I realized something else about the Khayelitsha Fire Fighters – this is a special group of kids. How do I know this? Anyone could know this by watching them for a day. There are a couple of teams with different age levels (seems to be about 11 to 16). Every team was present for all of the games – every kid from every age level was watching every game intently. This is unheard of. For comparison the Santos FC kids showed up only for their games and left right after barely even interacting with their own, immediate teammates. Anyways, the Fire Fighters cheered, they jeered, they were concerned for their teammates and they laughed at them – it goes even beyond this. I constantly saw the older kids with the younger kids – they were teaching, mentoring, and keeping them out of trouble. It was chilling seeing a group of 16-year-old boys (but really men) showing maturity beyond their years, fulfilling the role of positive role model to the younger kids when they themselves could have very well never had one. What hit me the most was when one Fire Fighter went down during the game he was immediately surrounded by every Fire Fighter on the field and sometimes every Fire Fighter watching the game. What made this stand out more was the fact that it appeared as if the kids from Santos FC could care less about each other when the Fire Fighters were a bonafide family. I attribute this to Bongi; he has done a better job with these kids, building this team, nurturing this family than I could ever possibly envision as possible. It really comes as no surprise to me, if anyone can do this it would be Bongi, one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. I’m always in awe when I’m in his presence and he is simply someone you want to root for, there is no one I respect more.
Well I sat down to write about the game and I didn’t even get to that. The Fire Fighters played great, as always – it just so happens that Bongi is a master soccer technician in addition to his other qualities and his players are uncommonly good for their age. I guess I also learned from yesterday that it simply isn’t about winning and losing, it’s about what it takes to get there and beyond. I’m looking forward to thanking Bongi and his teams for teaching me more in a day than I’ve learned in almost 21 years about love, family, commitment, and being part of something far greater than the self. Now, I’m going to go ahead and call my parents.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
BIG update
Well well well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything that’s made sense on the blog so I figured it was about time to give you guys a semblance of an update. I’ve been up to a lot in the past several days and it’s very hard for me to keep all of it straight, I’ll do my best.
Two Sunday’s ago, I think, the entire group went to a church service in a township (I think it was Guguletu but I, embarrassingly enough, don’t remember which one it was). Two weeks later I still have mixed feelings about what I experienced while I was there. The service was definitely intense and I have never seen that kind of community in my entire life. In a way this service was the most at home I’ve felt since I’ve been here. We were all welcomed with open arms and my original fears of being an intruder were semi-erased. Kids were running around everywhere, full of wonderment. This reminded me of home. Every family holiday I’m used to little cousins running and falling everywhere, this was no different. Anyways what I really wanted to put up here was the role of the church in the community. The congregation’s passion and commitment was like nothing I’ve ever seen. I actually could not comprehend it. It made no sense to me that so many people would cram into such a small, hot, uncomfortable space all to praise a God who has done nothing but hand hardships down to these people (After the service we went on brief tour to see where most of the laity lived, all I can say that the struggle in South Africa for equality is far from over, more on the living conditions later). Maybe it’s just me but I couldn’t imagine worshipping the entity that allowed the apartheid system and all subsequent consequences to happen, I just couldn’t. As I said this much was impressive. Much of the churches message seemed to be about dealing with these hardships (I really couldn’t understand any of it as it was in Xhosa, hell I can’t even pronounce Xhosa). This is where my admiration for the congregation turned to really considering what I thought about my surroundings.
I will preempt all that I say from here on out with the fact that I am at least an agnostic, much of my personal beliefs are in direct contrast with the very idea of religions. In addition to my personal philosophies I can’t help but notice the massive amount of human rights violations various religious institutions have both committed and allowed to happen. Anyways I’ll try to make this as readable as possible to people of all institutions, none of this is intended to be a shot taken at anyone who subscribes to any belief it is merely a reflection of my own beliefs that you may or may no agree with. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the teachings of the church that I went to and the church of the American South during the slavery years. I feel like the church here is inspiring people to continue to wait for their pie in the sky, life sucks now but eventually you will die and go to heaven and all will be well. To me this is not OK. The church is definitely offering catharsis instead of using it’s organizational power to create movement for real change, they are satiating rather than motivating. This bothers me intensely.
In other, more positive, news, most of the group went for a hike up Table Mountain. This was one of the most mind-blowing experiences of my life. The views were incredible, it was just the right amount of difficulty, and there was a certain je ne sais quoi while I was hiking. I can’t explain to you what happened but something just clicked most of the way up the mountain. It very well could have been endorphins rushing to my brain; all I know is that it felt damn good. I already can’t wait to go back up, I would almost classify this as a life changing experience.
Internships have started in the past couple of weeks. The first week was a little dull as I attempted to get into the groove of the organization. Most of last week was full of blog writing, something entirely necessary for the organization, as they are waaaaaay behind on the blog writing. Plus, I happen to be one of the only people in the office with English as a first language, comes in handy sometimes. Anyways, has been much more interesting. The past two days I have been going door to door in the township Khayelitsha, this is where my office is located. Khayelitsha very well could be the worst part of Cape Town crime and poverty wise. It takes me a good couple of hours to recover from the workday as being in the middle of Khayelitsha is harrowing to say the least. Most of the houses, they call them shacks, I’ve visited have been one room informal settlements made of tin and cardboard, there is no running water or electricity, the toilet is a bucket and the bedroom is the kitchen. As I said to my Mom today the level is not even comparable to what I am used to at home, it is impossible to comprehend unless you are in them and with the people. It has been tough communicating with them as they can’t understand a damn word that comes out of my mouth (most people at home can’t understand a damn word that comes out of my mouth anyways). I’m not sure what else I can say about the internship, everything else you would have to actually be there to understand. Rest assured it has been an experience so far and I expect it to get more interesting every week.
The future…this weekend looks to be an eventful one. On Thursday one of my house mates brought to my attention that there will be underground hip hop artists performing at a club on Long Street (this seems a lot closer to my scene than the dance clubs we’ve been going to, I really can’t dance for shit; it’s not hat I’m in my head to much to do it, as I’ve often been accused of being, it’s that I really have no idea what to do with my hands and feet). On Friday morning I will be surfing and hopefully not finishing the night as a sharks breakfast (Some people are nervous but I take solace in two things…1. I don’t have to out swim the shark, just the person next to me 2. I use the presence of sharks as motivation to stay on the board). Also on Friday, there is some sort of astronomy tour in Kirstenbosch Gardens (look this place up it’s beautiful). On Saturday I’ll be helping coach a friend of mines youth soccer team from Khayelitsha. I’m very excited to help and I’d like to think that he’s very excited to have me help. When I met him he was telling me about how most of these kids have had 0 exposure to white people and in their brief interactions they practically bow down, thinking that because of their skin color white people are superior. I’m hoping to end that practice at least for these kids and to show that I am certainly not superior to anyone on the basis of my skin color. Related to this, today during one of the door-to-door visits I sat down with a pretty large family and I TERRIFIED the little 2 year old boy in their family. I kind of knew what was up but I seeked confirmation after from my coworker. All he could say was that the little guy had almost no experience with white people. It’s just a small story and everyone involved was laughing pretty heartily but it is easy proof that Equality has not been realized in South Africa no matter how much progress they have allegedly made. Until black kids can look at white people as people instead of superiors and vice versa or something terrifying we need to continue to strive and struggle for some sort of peace (I’ve been getting way to political in this post, I realize that most of you could give a shit about my politics and philosophies, I apologize). Anyways, back to future stuff. I am very excited because yesterday a coworker and friend invited me and another person in my program to his house in Khayelitsha for a braii (this is a South African bbq). Looks like I will have the opportunity to try some pretty different stuff (two example are chickens feet, I’m not entirely sure how you eat a chickens foot as it seems like there is no meat on it, and smilies). Smilies deserve it’s own, non-parenthesized description. A smiley is a boiled lambs head. Essentially the eaters cut off the eatable parts, which mostly consist of the cheeks and gums. If said eater is feeling particularly ballsy they can go for an eyeball or brains. I’m hoping there is more food at the braii because I can’t see me filling myself up on smilies and chickens feet. Regardless I will give both a try and keep an open mind (I mean I have had McDonalds chicken nuggets before they became “all white meat.” I’m pretty sure it can’t get any worse than that).
Well, this is all for today. I’m sure I’m missing a ton but this probably already longer than any of you want to read. I hope you made it to the end.
Two Sunday’s ago, I think, the entire group went to a church service in a township (I think it was Guguletu but I, embarrassingly enough, don’t remember which one it was). Two weeks later I still have mixed feelings about what I experienced while I was there. The service was definitely intense and I have never seen that kind of community in my entire life. In a way this service was the most at home I’ve felt since I’ve been here. We were all welcomed with open arms and my original fears of being an intruder were semi-erased. Kids were running around everywhere, full of wonderment. This reminded me of home. Every family holiday I’m used to little cousins running and falling everywhere, this was no different. Anyways what I really wanted to put up here was the role of the church in the community. The congregation’s passion and commitment was like nothing I’ve ever seen. I actually could not comprehend it. It made no sense to me that so many people would cram into such a small, hot, uncomfortable space all to praise a God who has done nothing but hand hardships down to these people (After the service we went on brief tour to see where most of the laity lived, all I can say that the struggle in South Africa for equality is far from over, more on the living conditions later). Maybe it’s just me but I couldn’t imagine worshipping the entity that allowed the apartheid system and all subsequent consequences to happen, I just couldn’t. As I said this much was impressive. Much of the churches message seemed to be about dealing with these hardships (I really couldn’t understand any of it as it was in Xhosa, hell I can’t even pronounce Xhosa). This is where my admiration for the congregation turned to really considering what I thought about my surroundings.
I will preempt all that I say from here on out with the fact that I am at least an agnostic, much of my personal beliefs are in direct contrast with the very idea of religions. In addition to my personal philosophies I can’t help but notice the massive amount of human rights violations various religious institutions have both committed and allowed to happen. Anyways I’ll try to make this as readable as possible to people of all institutions, none of this is intended to be a shot taken at anyone who subscribes to any belief it is merely a reflection of my own beliefs that you may or may no agree with. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the teachings of the church that I went to and the church of the American South during the slavery years. I feel like the church here is inspiring people to continue to wait for their pie in the sky, life sucks now but eventually you will die and go to heaven and all will be well. To me this is not OK. The church is definitely offering catharsis instead of using it’s organizational power to create movement for real change, they are satiating rather than motivating. This bothers me intensely.
In other, more positive, news, most of the group went for a hike up Table Mountain. This was one of the most mind-blowing experiences of my life. The views were incredible, it was just the right amount of difficulty, and there was a certain je ne sais quoi while I was hiking. I can’t explain to you what happened but something just clicked most of the way up the mountain. It very well could have been endorphins rushing to my brain; all I know is that it felt damn good. I already can’t wait to go back up, I would almost classify this as a life changing experience.
Internships have started in the past couple of weeks. The first week was a little dull as I attempted to get into the groove of the organization. Most of last week was full of blog writing, something entirely necessary for the organization, as they are waaaaaay behind on the blog writing. Plus, I happen to be one of the only people in the office with English as a first language, comes in handy sometimes. Anyways, has been much more interesting. The past two days I have been going door to door in the township Khayelitsha, this is where my office is located. Khayelitsha very well could be the worst part of Cape Town crime and poverty wise. It takes me a good couple of hours to recover from the workday as being in the middle of Khayelitsha is harrowing to say the least. Most of the houses, they call them shacks, I’ve visited have been one room informal settlements made of tin and cardboard, there is no running water or electricity, the toilet is a bucket and the bedroom is the kitchen. As I said to my Mom today the level is not even comparable to what I am used to at home, it is impossible to comprehend unless you are in them and with the people. It has been tough communicating with them as they can’t understand a damn word that comes out of my mouth (most people at home can’t understand a damn word that comes out of my mouth anyways). I’m not sure what else I can say about the internship, everything else you would have to actually be there to understand. Rest assured it has been an experience so far and I expect it to get more interesting every week.
The future…this weekend looks to be an eventful one. On Thursday one of my house mates brought to my attention that there will be underground hip hop artists performing at a club on Long Street (this seems a lot closer to my scene than the dance clubs we’ve been going to, I really can’t dance for shit; it’s not hat I’m in my head to much to do it, as I’ve often been accused of being, it’s that I really have no idea what to do with my hands and feet). On Friday morning I will be surfing and hopefully not finishing the night as a sharks breakfast (Some people are nervous but I take solace in two things…1. I don’t have to out swim the shark, just the person next to me 2. I use the presence of sharks as motivation to stay on the board). Also on Friday, there is some sort of astronomy tour in Kirstenbosch Gardens (look this place up it’s beautiful). On Saturday I’ll be helping coach a friend of mines youth soccer team from Khayelitsha. I’m very excited to help and I’d like to think that he’s very excited to have me help. When I met him he was telling me about how most of these kids have had 0 exposure to white people and in their brief interactions they practically bow down, thinking that because of their skin color white people are superior. I’m hoping to end that practice at least for these kids and to show that I am certainly not superior to anyone on the basis of my skin color. Related to this, today during one of the door-to-door visits I sat down with a pretty large family and I TERRIFIED the little 2 year old boy in their family. I kind of knew what was up but I seeked confirmation after from my coworker. All he could say was that the little guy had almost no experience with white people. It’s just a small story and everyone involved was laughing pretty heartily but it is easy proof that Equality has not been realized in South Africa no matter how much progress they have allegedly made. Until black kids can look at white people as people instead of superiors and vice versa or something terrifying we need to continue to strive and struggle for some sort of peace (I’ve been getting way to political in this post, I realize that most of you could give a shit about my politics and philosophies, I apologize). Anyways, back to future stuff. I am very excited because yesterday a coworker and friend invited me and another person in my program to his house in Khayelitsha for a braii (this is a South African bbq). Looks like I will have the opportunity to try some pretty different stuff (two example are chickens feet, I’m not entirely sure how you eat a chickens foot as it seems like there is no meat on it, and smilies). Smilies deserve it’s own, non-parenthesized description. A smiley is a boiled lambs head. Essentially the eaters cut off the eatable parts, which mostly consist of the cheeks and gums. If said eater is feeling particularly ballsy they can go for an eyeball or brains. I’m hoping there is more food at the braii because I can’t see me filling myself up on smilies and chickens feet. Regardless I will give both a try and keep an open mind (I mean I have had McDonalds chicken nuggets before they became “all white meat.” I’m pretty sure it can’t get any worse than that).
Well, this is all for today. I’m sure I’m missing a ton but this probably already longer than any of you want to read. I hope you made it to the end.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Possibly PG-13
The pages, they were half charred, strewn about atop the skeletons of Holy thrones past – now a heap of ash still glowing the Devil’s hot red.
The man, he was steeped in the corner, knees up like a child – or a crazy man – shaking in fear. The skin of his face was falling off as if it were dripping – melted. Ivory white skull exposed and where there once was a, seemingly, all-seeing eye a black hole existed – optic fluid ran down his former face like tears. The room was dark – but more – more than the absence of light; like flies swarming, searching for the rotting, slopping flesh of a leper.
The man, he was steeped in the corner, knees up like a child – or a crazy man – shaking in fear. The skin of his face was falling off as if it were dripping – melted. Ivory white skull exposed and where there once was a, seemingly, all-seeing eye a black hole existed – optic fluid ran down his former face like tears. The room was dark – but more – more than the absence of light; like flies swarming, searching for the rotting, slopping flesh of a leper.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
One week in
So I've been having a lot of trouble writing a new blog post. I've been up to so much and it's all been a blur. I've written the beginnings of a couple of different posts and they all sucked so I erased them. As I was telling someone today (I'm not going to use names because that just feels weird) it is impossible for me to get across what's been happening in words. Sure, I can very easily tell you what I've been doing - today I went on a tour of a former slave lodge led by one of the most alternately amazing and frustrating people I've ever met; after this I had lunch with said person and had an interesting conversation with her; then I went to the American Consulate here. I know their goal is to make Americans feel safe abroad but after that meeting I never felt more alone. Something was so impersonal to me, so industrial. I left the consulate leaving very uneasy (it also happened to be a massive waste of time). This afternoon I had a community meeting where we planned the meal we're hosting tomorrow. Tonight we to a jazz club called the Blue Chip. It could have very well been the turning point for the trip. We were all sitting at dinner and being our typical loud but tentative/nervous selves and then all of a sudden a friend of mine on the trip and I locked eyes and went to the dance floor. Before I knew it all 23 of our group, plus one of our professors, were on the dance floor. Dancing, sweating, bad singing/yelling we finally had a moment together where it seems like we all clicked at the same time (this isn't to say that the last 6 days haven't been fun, they have, but the energy was palpable). Eventually the band broke out into "Stand by Me," Nirvana happened and that extremely rare bond between audience and artist was formed for however brief a moment. This is the day in a nutshell but this isn't what happened, that, I can't explain.
I'm learning about myself these days, learning mostly about what I'm not. I can tell you one thing, I am NOT funny in the least. I live in a house with 15 future stand up comedians. It's boarder line intimidating (actually it is intimidating but I think instead of writing about it on my blog I should nut up and just get over it). Right now I guess I'm just struggling to fit in (aren't we all). I have the constant fear that I simply will not be accepted, that I will be an outcast. This is making me ask myself a very important question, how important is it for me to fit? I guess I'm trying to tell myself that I could give a shit when I know deep down that it is important, it's what makes us human. I am hoping to start writing fiction again, I was inspired by a conversation I had with a fellow trip mate. I just miss creating worlds and characters and having the control that I crave so much and I haven't been able to realize. I'm hoping writing will become cathartic as I need catharsis and peace more than anything right now. I'm also hoping that I find the courage to actually share some of it this time around and post it on the blog, so all 5 or so of you reading this can read it and hopefully let me know what you think, honestly. Anyways my thoughts are fractured right now. I hope the post wasn't too heavy, I'm trying to be as real as I can. I really do love it here, there is something very special about this city. I'm off to bed. As always comment, laugh, share and such.
I'm learning about myself these days, learning mostly about what I'm not. I can tell you one thing, I am NOT funny in the least. I live in a house with 15 future stand up comedians. It's boarder line intimidating (actually it is intimidating but I think instead of writing about it on my blog I should nut up and just get over it). Right now I guess I'm just struggling to fit in (aren't we all). I have the constant fear that I simply will not be accepted, that I will be an outcast. This is making me ask myself a very important question, how important is it for me to fit? I guess I'm trying to tell myself that I could give a shit when I know deep down that it is important, it's what makes us human. I am hoping to start writing fiction again, I was inspired by a conversation I had with a fellow trip mate. I just miss creating worlds and characters and having the control that I crave so much and I haven't been able to realize. I'm hoping writing will become cathartic as I need catharsis and peace more than anything right now. I'm also hoping that I find the courage to actually share some of it this time around and post it on the blog, so all 5 or so of you reading this can read it and hopefully let me know what you think, honestly. Anyways my thoughts are fractured right now. I hope the post wasn't too heavy, I'm trying to be as real as I can. I really do love it here, there is something very special about this city. I'm off to bed. As always comment, laugh, share and such.
Monday, January 10, 2011
First Blog Post Ever
So I decided to do a blog so that anyone who is interested can follow my adventures in South Africa. This can definitely go one or two ways. Either I'll barely ever blog or it will turn into my incessant, barely comprehensible rambling about stuff no one but me cares about. I'll try my best to avoid both of those things, no promises though. On a different note, the name "Counter Clockwise" was decided on while I was talking to my family about some of the big changes I will have to adapt to in South Africa. One of the biggest among those is the toilets are going to flush in the other direction. I'm not sure how I'm going to react but it will probably involve me falling backwards then sitting down with that panting horrified look on my face (you know the one). I may have to take the day to recover. Any ways this is heading into that incessant rambling direction so I'll move on to something else.
The past couple of days have been filled with mixed emotions for me. Yesterday I had a family going away party and it was just an odd feeling saying goodbye. It was also just a nice reminder of how lucky I feel to be a part of the family that I am and to come from where I've come from; I wouldn't trade it for anything. Aside from all the people I will miss, and there will be many, I think I'm going to miss those seemingly innocuous small things the most. I'll miss the UConn wind and how it wakes me up every morning no matter how little sleep I got the night before. I'll miss running through West Hartford Center. Hell I just miss West Hartford Center, the ability to go to Grants or Bricco (even though I hardly go there and I definitely can't afford it). I'll even miss Homer and that terrified feeling that you get whenever you sit in Arjona for a class, "Oh my God! Did the building just creak? Shit, I think this is it, the building is going down."
While I will miss a lot, with only 4 days to go I am beyond excited. Friday really can't come soon enough. As of now I haven't started packing yet, I hate packing, but I think the process is going to start tomorrow. These days I've been thinking so much about what I am going to do when I get to Cape Town. I'm so excited to bungee jump, surf, watch some rugby (who knows maybe I'll even play some rugby, watch out Cape Town here comes 165 pounds of fury), and really just experience the city. I also decided the other day that I was gong to learn how to box while I'm there, even though it has nothing to do with Cape Town. This came after watching "The Fighter," I was just so damn inspired. I have already found what appears to be the perfect boxing gym for me, I just hope they're ready for me (I can see my first day going like so: 1. Walk in with this cocky look on my face. 2. Be boarderline impressive for a first timer in the drills and training. 3. Get my ass handed to me when I spar against someone. 4. Walk out with the Manning Face (If you're not sure what this is check the link). 5. Go back to the house and ice my entire body).
Anyways it's getting late and it's time for me to watch a movie and hit the sack. I'll end the blog post with a link. I was listening to this song while I was writing this and I have to say, it is the sexiest song I've ever heard. You guys tell me what you think but holy hell (I'm trying to keep the blog PG because of some young eyes that may be reading so this is as far as I go). You guys tell me what you think of the song and if you've got a sexier one by all means send it this way. Massive Attack-Paradise Circus.
Ps. I apologize for any spelling errors, it was never my strong suit and still isn't.
Pps. Comment away, I'll try to get back to all of them.
The past couple of days have been filled with mixed emotions for me. Yesterday I had a family going away party and it was just an odd feeling saying goodbye. It was also just a nice reminder of how lucky I feel to be a part of the family that I am and to come from where I've come from; I wouldn't trade it for anything. Aside from all the people I will miss, and there will be many, I think I'm going to miss those seemingly innocuous small things the most. I'll miss the UConn wind and how it wakes me up every morning no matter how little sleep I got the night before. I'll miss running through West Hartford Center. Hell I just miss West Hartford Center, the ability to go to Grants or Bricco (even though I hardly go there and I definitely can't afford it). I'll even miss Homer and that terrified feeling that you get whenever you sit in Arjona for a class, "Oh my God! Did the building just creak? Shit, I think this is it, the building is going down."
While I will miss a lot, with only 4 days to go I am beyond excited. Friday really can't come soon enough. As of now I haven't started packing yet, I hate packing, but I think the process is going to start tomorrow. These days I've been thinking so much about what I am going to do when I get to Cape Town. I'm so excited to bungee jump, surf, watch some rugby (who knows maybe I'll even play some rugby, watch out Cape Town here comes 165 pounds of fury), and really just experience the city. I also decided the other day that I was gong to learn how to box while I'm there, even though it has nothing to do with Cape Town. This came after watching "The Fighter," I was just so damn inspired. I have already found what appears to be the perfect boxing gym for me, I just hope they're ready for me (I can see my first day going like so: 1. Walk in with this cocky look on my face. 2. Be boarderline impressive for a first timer in the drills and training. 3. Get my ass handed to me when I spar against someone. 4. Walk out with the Manning Face (If you're not sure what this is check the link). 5. Go back to the house and ice my entire body).
Anyways it's getting late and it's time for me to watch a movie and hit the sack. I'll end the blog post with a link. I was listening to this song while I was writing this and I have to say, it is the sexiest song I've ever heard. You guys tell me what you think but holy hell (I'm trying to keep the blog PG because of some young eyes that may be reading so this is as far as I go). You guys tell me what you think of the song and if you've got a sexier one by all means send it this way. Massive Attack-Paradise Circus.
Ps. I apologize for any spelling errors, it was never my strong suit and still isn't.
Pps. Comment away, I'll try to get back to all of them.
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