How to Speak South African

 “Yes, I’ll be there just now, but I’m stuck at the robot!”

“Sure, I’d love to go swim, I’ll go look in my cupboard for my cozzie!”

“Can you please pass me a serviette? My hands are sticky from this braai.”

                Did any of that make sense to you? Is it a bit of a cryptic code that I invented to confuse anyone who reads it? Well, now you know how my life has been for the past seven weeks. Yes, this is English, no, I didn’t invent a new cryptic code, and yes, people really do speak like this in the one and only Republic of South Africa.

Here is your first lesson: “just now,” is a term South Africans say to mean “on my way,” or “in a minute.” Yes, I know “just now” means immediately, but apparently they don’t. Second lesson: “robot” means “traffic light.” This one I at least had a heads up on from Korea when we relentlessly made fun of Katie for always saying robot. But here, I’m the minority. It is stoplight no more.

Dad McAlery hard at work at the braai.

Next up: “swimming in your cozzie” means “swimsuit.” They call it a swimming costume, or cozzie for short. And cupboard? We know this one, right? Nope, it actually means closet. And last, “serviette” you can probably guess as another word for napkin, which is correct. But I bet I stumped you on “braai.” Braai is probably one of the most South African words you can find in my dictionary (I actually made one in my diary) – it’s another word for a barbecue. However, it means not only the grill but the entire process of eating the meal. “Let’s have a braai,” or “I’ll start the braai just now.” Throw some delicious marinated meat on the grill, add some sides, and you’ve got yourselves a classic South African braai. It’s actually an Afrikans (we’ll get there) word meaning “to grill,” and holds the same connotation as we do for “having a barbecue.” 

South Africa, also known as “the Rainbow Nation,” is one of the most interesting countries I’ve ever visited. It’s a fascinating blend of cultures, traditions, and ethnicities. It has a history like no other country in the world, with only one generation of young adults to have passed through its formative years post-apartheid. Apartheid is the most crucial concepts to understand about South Africa, because throughout the past century it’s shaped the nation and formed the intricacies and complexities of the current social structure.

But, before I get started on explaining about apartheid, I need to address two very important points with you. 1. Not all of Africa looks like the Lion King, Tarzan, or George of the Jungle. 2. Not everyone in South Africa is black. Just please get those two thoughts out of your head straightaway, so we can move on. 

 So, why isn’t everyone in South Africa black? Primarily for the same reason not everyone from Zimbabwe, or Kenya, or Tanzania is black: a little thing we like to call colonization. I’m just going to bring you back to your Western civilizations class, though you probably didn’t pay an ounce of attention, and see if you can recall a point in time when white people were trying to take over the world. When was that, approximately? If you answered ‘anytime,’ you’re pretty much right (and I just got you off the hook for sleeping in class). But let’s be more specific and talk about the forerunners of the white people explorer/conqueror type countries from the fifteenth century on: Portugal, England, The Netherlands, Spain, and France. We’ll throw out Spain and France for now and just focus on the first three. The Portuguese were actually the first to reach South Africa, but the Dutch were the first to settle in the Cape (Cape Town) Colony, on the southwestern coast, back around the time the time Colombus discovered the Americas. They decided it was a pretty great place and set up shop. As typical for a newly colonized country, there were white people and there were natives. Then they fought, and the white people took over and established all of their white people rules, while treating the natives terribly and killing a great many of them with their dirty diseases. Sound familiar?

This wasn’t the complete story in South Africa, but there are some familiar elements. At first, the native tribes in South Africa kind of just shifted over to accommodate these pushy white people, but when the Dutch (joined by a scattering of other random European groups, like the French, Germans and some Scandinavians), started getting too comfortable in their new home and kept expanding their boundaries, along with importing slaves to work their fields, things started to happen.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the British, whose power had been growing over the Dutch in Europe, therefore in the global expansion theater, took over the Cape Colony and sent thousands of British citizens to live in South Africa, throwing off the ‘white people balance’ in South Africa. This is where the face of South African colonization begins to look different compared to the rest of the continent. After numerous disputes, the Boers (the evolved Dutch settlers, no longer identifying themselves as purely Dutch, but as their own people) decided they’d had enough of the British, and they took off for the northeastern part of the country, Oregon Trail style. To make a long story short, the Boers hung out up in the northeast (modern day Johannesburg/Pretoria area) until the British caught up to them, while establishing a successful port and sugar plantation stronghold along way on the eastern coast, and one hundred years later they began to fight again. This sparked a series of what are called the Boer Wars, a unique set of African wars. They were unique because they weren’t African against African or African against European, but European against European, fighting for control within an African country.

By 1902, the Boer Wars were finished, and the British were the proud new owners of a new Republic, to add to their growing Empire. As they surveyed their land, they would have found a vast and diverse mix of cultures, from the high concentation of Indian workers who had been brought in to work on the sugar plantations in the East, the Europeans and Australians who flooded in when diamonds, then gold, were discovered near Pretoria, the Boers who were still smarting over their defeat and now referred to themselves as Afrikaners, the fierce Zulu tribe of the eastern coast that were still trying to retain much of their traditional tribal life, other native tribes who were just trying to live peacefully throughout the whole mess, and all of the mixed races of everyone who had been co-exsisting ever since the Europeans had first arrived, bringing slaves from other parts of Africa and Asia. I’m not quite sure how or why the Chinese got here, but they’re here too. 

The Father of the "Rainbow Nation"

 So, South Africa really is the ‘Rainbow Nation,’ due to the incredible mix of enthicities, nationalities, tribes, languages, you name it. It’s pretty much got it all. There are many different social groups, each with their own stereotypes. The word ‘racist’ is thrown around in a similar way we use it in the States – you cringe a little bit, but usually end up chuckling at the joke because you’re around other people of the same race. Each person belongs to their own race, which encompasses a set of cultural norms and standards, and they make fun of the other races – sometimes lightly, sometimes not. I actually read a funny book at Jason’s called “The Racist’s Guide to the People of South Africa,” which included a chapter for each of the major races in South Africa: the whites (divided into Afrikans and non-Afrikans), the blacks, the Indians, the Coloreds (white and black mixed, mostly in the Cape Town area), and then a catch-all chapter for everyone else. It was very funny to read and it made fun of all races, but also included many true stereotypes that I’ve seen hold true in my time here. For example, most Africans love fried chicken, and most Durban Indians love to take their families to shopping centers on the weekends. When I first heard these stereotypes, I wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but I have now seen these phenomenons with my own eyes.

So now, go back to the early part of the twentieth century and start to think a

bout all of these diverse races and ethnicities, and then think about one of the minority races – the whites – trying to control who can live where, who can work where, who can vote, who can enter the city to work, who can go to school where, who can sit where, who can eat where, etc. This, similar to some of the most severe segregation laws in the United States prior to the Civil Rights Movement, was the reality of South Africa for nearly a century, under a system know as apartheid.

Apartheid, defined simply as “separation,” was originally put forth as a theory of “neither discrimination nor the domination of any particular race; the races would simply follow their separate paths in all spheres of life in accordance with…their own traditions and cultures.” Well, this didn’t happen. What really did happen was that white people wanted to control everyone who wasn’t white in order to protect their own interests. Under this pretense, the underlying foundation of apartheid was based on racism and white supremacy, and it was successful for nearly one hundred years.

Waiting in line to have passes approved.
Kwa-Muhle Museum, Durban.

There is so much to explain about apartheid, much of which I’ve learned from reading, going to museums, and listening to stories first hand while I’ve been here, but it’s impossible to cover in a short time. Basically, Americans can compare it to the segregation policies in the United States, with restrictions on land owndership, signs instructing where to sit and stand in public places, where to work, who to marry, what kind of education one will receive, and all other facets of life. Beginning with the first Native Land Act of 1913, which designated that Natives (Africans) weren’t allowed to own certain lands, nearly every year there seemed to be a new, controlling, and demeaning race law. People had to carry pass books, which would identify them as far as what race they were – though sometimes race was arbitrarily decided, and family members were identified as different races. Entire neighborhoods and districts were relocated and forced to move out of ‘white areas,’ and the education system for non-whites was designed to create an extremely unfair advantage for the whites, such as not teaching English, and cutting all of the successful mission schools. 

As you can imagine, all of these laws formed and enforced by a small white minority over the majority of the country created some unrest among those being prejudiced against. Along the lines of (and inspired by) Mohatma Ghandi, political parties began to form based on the idea of nonviolent protest. The most prominent parties were the Communist Party (CPSA) and the African National Congress (ANC), of which Nelson Mandela played a crucial role in.

In memory of the freedom fighters.
Soweto, Johannesburg.

However, as much as these parties tried to promote nonviolent protests such as strikes, marches, and defying pass laws in order to be thrown in jail, things escalated to a point of violence involving protesters and the police. The most famous incident and turning point was the Sharpeville Massacre of 1960, in which the police opened fire on the peaceful protesters, killing and injuring hundreds. “The crisis received huge international publicity, exposing the nature of the regime and taking its apartheid policy beyond repair.” Foreign investment pulled out, the British cut South Africa from the Commonwealth, the ANC was banned, and the freedom fighters, including Nelson Mandela, were forced underground or into exile. It became clear that non-violence was not going to make a change, so these underground parties began forming their own armed units and enacting small attacks of symbolic significance, not targeting specific people. It was these incidents that eventually led to Mandela’s arrest and trial in 1963, where he was sentenced to life imprisonment on Robben Island. After a famous five hour speech at his trial, “he emerged from the trial as the ANC’s dominant figure and the major leader of the struggle.”

The following three decades consisted of more violent attacks, protests, strikes, and international condemnation. South Africa entered a border war with Namibia, which increased military presence throughout the country. Students became the main leaders of protests and uprisings. However, their efforts proved effective. Though laws were not lifted, the enforcements became relaxed and some were simply ignored. Eventually, by the late 1980s, it became clear to the leaders that things could not continue as they were. By this time there was a new political party in operation, in secret talks with Mandela and other political prisoners on Robben Island. The era of apartheid was at an end.  

On February 2, 1990, the new president of the Republic, F. W. de Klerk, “with great calm and panache, announced the end of apartheid, the unbanning of all prohibited organizations, the release of Mandela and the remaining ANC prisoners, a welcome back home of all exiles and the invitation to the ANC and all other parties to talks on a new democratic nation.” Four years after this historical moment Nelson Mandela became the president of South Africa, after the first nation-wide election ever held, with all citizens given the right to vote. The new Constitution included freedom and equality for all, and a new generation of South Africans were born into a democratic nation. 

Taking part in South Africa's first democratic election. 

The new Constitution of South Africa. 

 And now, as Nelson Mandela nears the end of his long and incredible life, (the 94 year old former president has been in the hospital for the past week but appears to be making a recovery) the future of South Africa remains to be seen. All of the struggle and fighting for freedom has been eclipsed by the current ANC government, who seems to be more concerned with spending taxpayer’s money on frivolous things such as fancy cars and big houses. The ANC, once a beacon of hope for South Africa, now seems to be deteriorating within its own power. Young, educated South Africans are favoring international jobs over internal positions due to better opportunities and a more stable economic environment. The most we can hope for is that the loss of Mandela will reinvigorate his undying fighting spirit to unite the people of South Africa as one, equal nation with opportunities for everyone. South Africa has overcome an incredible history of struggle and conflict, and has so much to be proud of as a nation and a people. Even if they speak English a little funny.

So as a final language lesson, now that you understand a little more about the country I’ve been living in for nearly two months now, I’ll give you some words that I’ve spent weeks learning how to translate. You’re very welcome for saving you the trouble of buying an English-South African dictionary if you ever go to South Africa:

A pudding is dessert, a hooter is a car horn, a boot is a car trunk, an indicator is a car blinker, biltong is jerkey, a jersey is a hoodie, a biscuit is a cookie, a crisp is a potato chip, a chip is a french fry, a joll is a good time, a plaster is a Band-Aid, a plait is a braid, matric is senior year in high school, varsity is university, a rusk is a heartier biscotti for your morning coffee, brekkie is breakfast, rashers are bacon, and a garden is what they call a backyard. And just for an extra bonus, I’ll warn you that the steering wheel is on the right side of the car AND they drive on the left side of the road. I don’t recommend renting a car unless you’ve had some practice.

The new flag of the Republic of South Africa, the "Rainbow Nation."

Two weeks ago I left my lovely ocean view at the McAlery’s place for another camping trip with Jason’s family in The Berg, followed by a week back in Johannesburg until Allie and Travis arrived last Saturday. We spent the past few days in Cape Town, and will head to a game reserve for more camping this weekend. My time in Durban was incredibly relaxing, yet also productive, most importantly in getting my paperwork ready in order to prepare for the Russian visa application. Speaking of Russia, I have a new update for those of you who don’t know yet: instead of teaching on a four month contract in Petrozavodsk, Russia, I’ve recently accepted a different nine month teaching position in Moscow. The Moscow job is a better financial situation, a longer contract, and it seems to provide a stronger support system for its foreign teachers. I’m excited to spend nine months in a world-famous city, and to take advantage of such a great learning opportunity. Plus now I don’t have to learn how to pronounce Petrozavodsk.

So with that, start arranging your Russian visa paperwork to come for a visit. I don’t recommend coming in January, but I’d love to see you. More from South Africa after I’ve had a few more adventures here. Take care and Happy Summer! 

Flashback Series: From MSP to JFK

Hey everyone! This is the last of my catching up to do, and it's just a quick one about my time at home in between Costa Rica and South Africa. I don't even have that many pictures, as my camera was very unfortunately left behind in NYC. That's the bad news, but the good news is that I left it in my friend's handbag, so she has since mailed it to my other friend Allie, who will be bringing it to me in a couple of weeks. So check back then for my NYC pictures - I have a few here but not many.

I had a little over two weeks in between returning from Costa Rica and taking off for South Africa. The main reason for my quick stopover was to attend the wedding of one of my best friends, whom I’ve known since elementary school. Jess had told me the good news the previous January, and I promised her I’d be home in time to see her get married. So, on a snowy April night, I landed back in Minnesota for the week, ready for a weekend of fun and celebration. It was strange being back at first - it was snowy, but it wasn't Christmas and I was leaving within another week. Unfortunately, I had to undergo a few days of pain after I arrived, as I had an unexpected dental surgery pop up that had to be taken care of during the week I was home. That was inconvenient and resulted in some extra driving back and forth between Mankato and the Cities. But hey, life happens.

Minnesota just couldn't let me say goodbye without reminding me of what I'm missing.

 The day before the wedding I navigated my way up to downtown Minneapolis, got ready, and headed to the Hilton for the groom's dinner. It was great to see Jess and her family again, after so many years, and I got to hang out with Greg (the groom) and meet more of his family. Two of her bridesmaids were college friends, and the other two were girls I had graduated with and hadn’t seen for years, so it was fun to catch up. After the dinner I was able to sneak away for a couple of hours and meet up with some of my university swimming friends now living in the cities.

Jessica's wedding day was fun from start to finish, from getting ready to trooping over to the wedding venue for rehearsal, taking pictures in the cold, and then smoothing out all the last minute issues. I was thrilled to be a part of the wedding as her personal attendant, which meant that I was in charge of keeping things running smoothly and making sure the bridal party was relaxed, happy, clothed properly, and feeling their best. She looked beautiful, as always, and was absolutely glowing the whole day. Of all the things I couldn't be at while living overseas, weddings were the worst events to miss. I was so glad I had changed my travel plans to make it home for the wedding, and  to be able to spend a week at home to see my family and friends, as an added bonus. Mom and Brent made the trip to the cities to see me on the weekend, along with Allie, who came in from Wisconsin. 

The beautiful bridesmaids.

Friends for life. 

The flower girls, just like little flowers. 

The newlyweds. 

But, I only had a week. Jess was married, my gums were fixed, and my backpack was packed yet again. After getting the all clear from the oral surgeon, I was back up in the cities and at the Minneapolis airport (MSP) once again. I was off for my final stage of my trip around the world, with a pit stop in New York City. By lucky coincidence, three of my friends were flying to Florida the same day I was flying to New York City, so after staying the night with them I got a ride to the airport and was able to see them through security. It was nice to say goodbye knowing I’d be back again after not too long. A few hours later, I was taking off in the snow (after waiting almost an hour on the runway for them to de-ice the plane…way to go Minnesota) to see another childhood friend. It was time for a new adventure.

I landed at JFK an hour late, and went through three public transportation transfers to arrive at Chelsea’s street on the upper West Side just before midnight. First thought: it’s so much warmer here. Second thought: She lives down the street from a Starbucks!

After buzzing me in, Chelsea welcomed me, showed me around the apartment, gave me the keys, and we headed to bed - she still had to get up for work the next morning. But after 5 PM the next day we'd have all weekend to relax and catch up on each other's lives. I was lucky enough to arrive while she was in between roommates, which meant I had a room all to myself.

And the next day, I had New York City all to myself. I had a few things to take care of, so after getting ready, with much less warm clothing than I had needed back home, I stepped out into the fresh spring air and started walking. I walked my way down the Upper West Side down Broadway, and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. The first time I went to NYC it was so short and touristy, so this time I had nothing in mind to do or see – I just wanted to explore.

Nope, not in Korea anymore. 

I revisited Lincoln Center, Central Park, and Times Square, then found my way to Rockefeller Center, Grand Central Station, and Koreatown.  Koreatown was fun - a street (named Korea Way) full of restaurants, Korean businesses, and Koreans. At some points I felt like I was actually back there, except that the food prices were at least double what they are in Korea. I was thrilled to find that one of my favorite coffee shops and one of my favorite bakeries had found its way to New York City.

That evening I met Chelsea and some of her friends in a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, an area that used to be pretty dodgy and dominated by Irish-Americans, but is now relatively safe and full of “ethnic restaurants and aspiring actors,” due to its proximity to Broadway. I had a fun night meeting her friends and catching up with Chelsea. We had a quick dinner at a Thai restaurant near her apartment before heading to bed, close to midnight.

Another best friend for life. 

Our Saturday was probably the best New York City Saturday ever. We slept in, then lounged in our pajamas until it was time to get ready for brunch. Our brunch was at a place just down the street from her apartment, where I met another one of her friends and we all chatted over endless refills of coffee. Brunch is the thing to do these days, often lasting for hours, and according to Chelsea, “New York City started it!”

It was a beautiful day outside, so can you guess what we did after brunch? Yup, we went for a walk in Central Park, with probably everyone else in the city. Chelsea lives only a few blocks from the park, and she took me on a lovely long loop. People watching was great fun, from hardcore exercisers to tourists to families with kids to old couples out for a stroll. I’ll fill you in on Chelsea now, so you can feel like you were actually there walking with us.

We've come a long way from our middle school days. 

I met Chelsea when she moved to Minnesota from Canada in eighth grade. We became fast friends thanks to our interest in athletics, band, and school. We lived close to each other and spent lots of time outdoors together, whether it was adventuring on rollerblades, climbing trees, and riding bikes. The winter didn’t deter us from our fun, as we just bundled up and headed out for fun in our snowpants. She taught me how to play broom ball (ice hockey minus ice skates) and how to curl (that crazy Canadian sport). We had a fantastic time together, which sadly came to an end when she moved away to North Carolina in ninth grade. Since then, we’ve seen each other once, in 2009, but have kept in touch and are still close. She graduated from UNC with a business degree, and is now working in the admissions department at Fordham University while getting her MBA. She keeps herself busy by singing in a youth choir, volunteer coaching ice hockey in Harlem, and playing street hockey on the weekends. 

After our walk we celebrated with a beer at one of her favorite sports bars near her apartment. As you can guess, we had plans for the evening with some of her friends so after taking the subway to Chelsea for dinner we met up at a very cool little bar with a crazy DJ. I knew a few people from the night before and I met some of her other friends. Everyone I met was friendly and so interesting to me – everyone in the City has a story, and I loved hearing about what her friends did, how they ended up in New York, how they knew each other. One of her friends worked at an events center and is able to see some of the big name performances in New York for free. Another friend went to college in the Empire State Building. I remembered meeting one of her friends from years ago who had had an internship with Shape Magazine. New York is the place to be for meeting interesting people. We had a great night which ended up lasting much later than we intended, and resulted in a 25 minute wait home for the subway in the middle of the night (morning). But, it was worth it and just another part of the city life experience.

Cheering from the sidelines as Chels plays street hockey.  

Sunday was another low key day, with a coffee and lunch run in the morning before spending the afternoon relaxing at her apartment while she finished up a presentation for her MBA class the next day, the last of the semester. That evening I tagged along to her street hockey game, which was fun to watch and a great local experience. I even made some friends who randomly sat down next to me to watch the game, not knowing what was going on. I explained, and then they decided to stay and help me cheer for Chelsea. She had a fan club by the end of the evening. 

The next day I went to work with Chels at Fordham University, a Jesuit University located in the Bronx. I hadn’t visited the Bronx on my previous trip, so I was looking forward to seeing what it was all about. As soon as we stepped out of the subway station after about a 30 minute communte, I understood the difference. Gone were the elegant streets and lovely tall buildings, replaced by two story shops and buildings, with a big mess of people everywhere, selling things, waiting for rides, and milling around. I was a minority race once again. It seemed a little coarser than Manhattan – not necessarily dirtier or unsafe, but just a little more rough around the edges. 

Her school was beautiful, and after being introduced to some of her co-workers I went off on a little walk to explore the grounds while she attended a meeting. I found my way to the library, where I did some reading and enjoyed the atmosphere of a college campus library again. However, I must say, Fordam's library was approximately ten times fancier than Green Bay's library. She even found out about a history lecture that was taking place that afternoon that I ended up attending with one of her co-workers. 

For lunch, we went to a classic Italian deli, complete with the Italian workers and large amounts of meat everywhere. The Bronx has historically been a magnet for ethnic immigrants, resulting in some fantastically authentic restaurants, for a much cheaper price than in the city. After lunch I was on my own again, and headed back to spend the afternoon in the Upper West Side. I even had coffee at the cafe that was featured in the Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks movie "You've Got Mail," as it's just two blocks from her apartment. Chelsea had her presentation that night, so after walking, having coffee, visiting a few used bookstores, and doing some organizing I relaxed with the novelty of American cable at my fingertips once again until she arrived home for the evening.

Tuesday I had the luck of being invited to lunch with Mickey, the woman whom I'd met while staying with my aunt and uncle in Costa Rica. She worked for a hedge fund on Wall Street, and when I mentioned I'd be in New York City in April she told me to contact her. So, I did, we made our plans, and on Tuesday I was strutting around in the historical Financial District of New York City. Unfortunately, it was cloudy and chilly weather, so it wasn't the best for walking around, but I still enjoyed revisiting the oldest part of Manhattan. I even looked like a professional New Yorker, wearing a nice and stylish winter coat (thanks Chels) with my tennis shoes while I walked the streets to my destination, flats in my purse ready to be changed into once I arrived. It was great to see Mickey again, and she took me out for a lovely lunch, where we caught up and chatted about my travels and her life in the City. Lunch was over much too soon, but everything is fast paced in the Big Apple, so Mickey had to get back to work. We said goodbye and hoped to see each other again in the future. Who knows where?

Next on my agenda for the day was to visit New York University's campus. I walked from the Financial District, after a quick stop in Trinity Church and a Starbucks, to campus, located in Greenwich Village. I didn't have an appointment, but planned to just stop in at the graduate admissions office and see who I could chat to about applying for the 2014 school year. I ended up having a great little talk with the reception guy, who told me to come back the next day during the scheduled drop-in time at admissions, then he sent me over to the history building just to see if there was someone there I could speak to. After entering the building and waiting to see the secretary, I remember looking on the wall and seeing the faculty office list - the professors I'd been reading and researching about were actually living and breathing in the same building I was in!

I got some good leads and advice for applying to the department, and went to the drop in session the next day. NYU is one of the top twenty schools in the nation for its graduate history department, so though I've set my sights high I have to remain realistic in remembering how competitive it is to get into big name schools. Still, it was a bit of a confidence booster to be sitting in the graduate admissions office at NYU, seriously discussing my future ideas with a professional. I'll find out by next April if and where I'll be attending graduate school (fingers crossed I get in somewhere,) which will be a huge relief to finally have a set plan for settling down back in the USA. Who knows, maybe I'll be back in New York City before long.

But, until then, I made the most of my time there by walking the city streets, eating at all of Chelsea's favorite spots, and living life as a local for a week. It was a fantastic trip and I was so glad for the opportunity to catch up with Chelsea, who remains one of my best friends. We spent our last few hours together at a wine bar, my treat to celebrate her upcoming birthdays, and we hoped that it wouldn't be another five years until we saw each other again.

I began the long journey back to the airport (sixty dollars for a taxi vs ten dollars for public transportation...worth the time) and ended up being delayed at JFK for two hours for my flight to London. I began chatting with another girl waiting nearby, and it turned out she was from Ohio but had attended university at St. Olaf, Minnesota, just 45 minutes from my hometown. An even better coincidence was that she knew a couple of people I grew up with - what a small world! We kept each other company while waiting for the plane and discussed backpacking in Europe, which she was about to do for the spring and summer. Travel mode: reinstated. 

As luck would have it, my new friend ended up being my seat partner. We were both very happy with our situation - you all know that person who you dread sitting next to on the plane? I didn't have one of those. We did some more chatting and got settled in for the night, enjoying our dinner and watching movies until we fell asleep. I must say, flying Virgin Atlantic was a nice treat. I woke up in London for my eight hour layover, to be filled with some reading, writing, coffee, and fantastic people watching. After saying goodbye I found my way to the terminal and did some reconnaissance, mostly for the best place to sit in relation to the Starbucks. The last time I was in London Heathrow I was on my way to South Korea for my new overseas adventure in August 2010. Since then, I’ve traveled and experienced so much, but I was still up for more. I was on my way to my a new continent, country, and travel experience, since this time it would just be visiting friends and I didn’t really have a purpose or objective to achieve. It was also a little strange to think that I’d be ‘traveling’ in an English speaking country (though English is actually only one among their eleven national languages).  I just wanted to enjoy myself, learn as much as I could about South Africa from the locals, and catch up with my friends and meet their families.

A little taste of London at the airport.

And that's what I was off to do. Next broadcast live from South Africa. Happy June to you all!