Macro Connectivity. Micro Isolation.

Let me recall one of my recent tweets: I wanna shout it from Table Mountain, but I’ll settle for this: WE FINALLY HAVE INTERNET AT OUR HOUSE!

We arrived in Cape Town on 15 January and almost immediately began our quest for internet service. Being students in a new country, we were anxious to be able to look up phone numbers, compare prices, navigate UCT processes, find walking directions, purchase tickets to events… not to mention be able to submit online assignments and begin research.

It wasn’t until 21 February, though, that I was able to tweet from my own wireless connection. Over one month (and many unnecessary meals and drinks purchased at cafes offering free Wi-Fi to customers) later, we are finally reunited with the rest of the world via email, social media, and online news.

The effect has been interesting. At the beginning of our time here, we were incredibly anxious without internet. We had to break habits of communicating with friends and family nonstop, and we had to budget the time we spent on the phone with our homes, as calls were rather expensive. The lack of access eventually became a bit more comfortable and, without a doubt, comical. We’d laugh about living in the stone ages and would giggle at comments such as, “I would ______, but… we still don’t have internet.”

Eventually, and inevitably, what once caused laughter caused frustration. After all, how could it even be reasonable that setting up internet takes over a month to complete? Between activating the Telkom phone line to setting up the Kingsley internet service to configuring the Telkom phone line to troubleshooting the Kingsley internet service, we were exhausted and annoyed as the time, effort, and monetary costs climbed.

I believe that finally-flashing indicator light on the router/modem to be the biggest victory we had all felt in quite a while. We hadn’t thought about how the internet access would transform our experience as housemates, though. Where we once spent our time lounging on the couch and quizzing each other with endless getting-to-know-you questions, we now separate our lives a bit more. You can typically find Victor watching a Russian television series or Tommy exploring on his iPad. I, to no one’s surprise, am usually refreshing my Twitter timeline for the latest updates from around the world. And, since Lindsey's phone was stolen, I think she's quite thankful for Facebook messaging and email at her fingertips.

It’s ironic to me that finally being “connected” – to the internet and to the rest of the world outside our Cape Town bubble – has, in effect, isolated us from each other a bit. We can now converse with those at home as much as we can converse with those in our temporary home. Don’t get me wrong; we still enjoy our time together, but we’re often simultaneously searching sites on our devices while we do so. I thoroughly enjoy the comforts of WiFi in our house, but I must admit that a very small piece of me misses being effortlessly forced to live in the moment rather than constantly escape (and sometimes transcribe) the moment.

But then again, being passed around via Skype on my sister’s iPad at my nephew’s family birthday gathering was a rather incredible feeling... 

Comparing currency with
Dalton and Dakota... half a world apart!

It's Refreshing. It's a Restart.

The Cape Town climate has interesting effects here. Most days are wrapped in weather that seems straight from the front of a postcard sent home to a jealous audience, and you wake up each morning to a stunningly beautiful day. The sunshine meets the mountains, and the constant breeze delivers a breath of fresh air to those resting under the rays in the beach.

It sounds quite ridiculous to admit, but such incredible weather can be exhausting. Rather than being filled with energy and a list of things you’d like to be doing just because the sun is dancing on your shoulders, you’re given just another day in Cape Town. The heat swarms your house, bedroom, and classroom, and you persevere until relief comes with the night, as air conditioning is a luxury not provided to most buildings.

When you wake up to cloudy with rain for a change, it seems as though your parched soul has been given the biggest drink of ice-cold water. For me, in the land of open windows, waking up to natural air conditioning being escorted through my window is invigorating. It’s refreshing. It’s a restart. And today is one of those days.

Perched in my window at The Power & The Glory, I am relieved by the rain. I have always been a fan of the occasional rainy day, but suddenly the things I took for granted in moderate Kentucky, which enjoys such days quite often, seem brilliant. All of a sudden, tires spraying onto the car behind, windshield wipers, water dripping into a puddle, and rain-soaked hair seem worth writing about.

In Cape Town, rainy days readily reveal themselves: umbrellas rather than beach bags, rain jackets rather than tank tops. For once, there’s no pressure to soak up the sun or conquer the day. Instead, the pace slows even more than usual, and I am content wasting my day in a usually packed coffee shop window that perfectly frames the poetic scene in front of me. I would usually stand no chance in acquiring this spot, but today the Capetonians have settled further inside, safe from the occasional raindrop gone awry. I’ll take it. 

This Land Is Your Land, This Land Is My Land

Cape Town is segmented into sections that are more than just “areas” in which one stands. They’re towns inside a big city, proper enough to be included in mailing addresses and culturally distinct enough that you can often see a literal border between two adjacent ones.

Cape Town's "City Bowl" area

We live “in the city” on the very edge of Tamboerskloof, a funky area adorned with charming shops, vibrant people, bustling vibes, hipster fashion, and prime real estate. We’re a short walk away from everything one would need: a pharmacy, a laundromat, a coffee shop, a local favorite restaurant and bar, a few groceries and convenience stores, and quaint cafes. We've become familiar faces at a few stops on our street, and when the barista recalled my order this morning, I felt a little bit at home.You’d compare our neighborhood to East Nashville, if you were familiar with both, meaning one thing: I love it here. Much like Keep Louisville Weird and I Heart BG, our area of the city has its own campaign: I Love My Hood.

I Heart My Hood stickers and t-shirts pop up all over the place on Kloof Street

The convenience store "next door" that we visit multiple times a day

There’s so much to love here that one even finds the colony of homeless men, which makes a nearby corner their home each night, endearing. Beleza and Peter’s House, small neighborhood restaurants, are frequented for their free wi-fi access. The Power & The Glory, where I sit as I write this, serves coffee and café food all day and beer and wine at night. Rafiki’s, directly above me, is the second home of plenty of young locals, staying busy late into the night. As if that we're enough to win one over, a one-minute walk down the (very steep) hill to Kloof Street introduces you to a charming boutique and café district that one can’t help but adore.

The Power & The Glory, our neighborhood coffee shop

And Long Street, Cape Town’s equivalent to Nashville’s Broadway, New Orleans’s Bourbon Street, Louisville’s Bardstown Road, and Memphis’s Beale Street, is only a five to ten minute walk away. It is home to African shops, backpacker lodges, coffee shops, and as much variety in nightlife as you can imagine. A favorite of locals and international visitors and residents alike, you're never sure who you'll meet on Long Street.

Long Street from above

Every time it slips our mind just how lucky we are with our location, a visiting friend will ask how we pulled it off. Considering the fact that we learned everything we knew about Cape Town residence online (and Lindsey's diligent research), we'll chalk this one up as a job well done. It's safe to say that by the end of a year here, I'll proudly display "I Love My Hood" logos as if it were mine all along. Home sweet home.

Some things change. Some things stay the same.

About twenty years later, I'm still celebrating the first day of school. And, almost embarrassingly so, my outfit of choice isn't all that different (except for a few outrageous patterns). By the way, it's pretty hard to keep a straight face when you're 24 years old and posing for a first-day-of-school photo.

As I've mentioned before, this journey has been in the works for about a year and a half. Even after obtaining the scholarship, it was up to me to make it happen by seeking admission to the university, navigating the administration processes, acquiring a study permit from South Africa's Department of Home Affairs, find housing... and that's just the tip of the iceberg. 

When my name was confirmed on the roster as I sat in Humanities Graduate School Building Room 5.18, I had mixed feelings of relief and excitement. Finally, there was confirmation that I had successfully completed the complicated processes of applying, pre-registering, registering, and beginning. And it was no easy feat, I might add. 

The first day of class ended up being quite a breeze. Despite my fears of showing up and revealing myself as an entirely unprepared international student, my confusion was paralleled by my classmates' - all nine of them - which left me confident. I can, in fact, do this. 

I'm enrolled in the Postgraduate Diploma in Education, which is the first year of coursework in the Master's in Education program. This semester, I'll take three courses in the Educational Administration, Planning, & Social Policy track, and they all fit into a framework of month-long modules. 

11 February - 6 March / MW 4 PM - 7 PM

Education and Development

3 April - 29 April / MW 4 PM - 7 PM

Educational Management & Leadership 

13 May - 6 June / MF 4 PM - 7 PM

Educational Reform

The classes are centered around reading, and the exit examination for each course is a writing assignment. There is much more flexibility within my studies than there has been and will be in the United States, and it almost feels like a breath of fresh air. 

In South Africa, most people gain practical experience before seeking a Master's degree, so I'm surrounded by professionals in the field. Most of the students are currently teaching, but some have experience in administration. One, for example, worked for South Africa's National Department of Basic Education. 

When I introduce myself, people often ask why I'd come to South Africa to study if I'm from the United States. While my studies toward a Master's degree at WKU provide additional practical training, my program at UCT is theory-based. In our course introduction, we were told that our program would train us to think like policy analysts searching for solutions (and I have to admit that I'm really excited about that). More than anything, I'm looking forward to participating in conversations about education reform in a country that is in the midst of it as we speak. In that sense, there is literally no better place to be right now.

Jameson Hall at UCT
(think WKU's Cherry Hall)

I saw this on the UCT website yesterday, and it made me smile: "Today, 11 February, is the day that UCT life gets back to normal - at least, as normal as a semester at a world-class university can be. Lectures and workshops begin in earnest, and students will be battling for a spot in the libraries and laboratories around campuses. UCT wishes students and a staff a year of hard, smart work and great success. In particular, UCT wishes its first-year students a rewarding and fulfilling introduction to university life."

Is there anything more exciting than the first day of school? Maybe that's what encouraged me to be an educator.

I'm kidding. Kind of. 

Real World: Cape Town

I’m still looking for the hidden cameras, and I’m wondering why we were never asked to sign release forms. At this point, I am 99.9% sure that I am a participant in The Real World: Cape Town.

Back when I was planning my Cape Town residence during lunch breaks at my desk job in 2012, I was communicating with four other people on three continents: Lindsey E. (from Philadelphia) and Alex (from Virginia), Anja (from Germany, but traveling in South America at the time), and Renata (from Germany). I've stolen their Facebook photos so you can put a face with the name:

Lindsey E. - Ambassadorial Scholar
Master's in International Relations at UCT

Anja - Ambassadorial Scholar
MBA at Stellenbosch

Alex - Ambassadorial Scholar
Honours in International Development

Renata - Ambassadorial Scholar
Postgraduate Certificate in Education

We thought we’d be five Rotary Ambassadorial Scholars living under one roof as we learned about life in Cape Town. Now, though, Anja has replaced herself with Tommy (a model from Australia) who will eventually be followed by Christian (a doctor from Germany). Renata has replaced herself with Victor (a model from Siberia), who will eventually be followed by... someone we've yet to meet. Alex will replace herself with Kelly (a UCT student from South Africa) this weekend. Don't worry, you'll get a chance to "meet" them as they come and go.

Confusing, right? That’s just the beginning. Start factoring in leases, deposits, utilities, and other expenses and it gets really fun. All of the coming and going has left us in limbo with making our house our home, resulting in funny moments like making ramen noodles (called 2-minute noodles here, leaving less debate about how to pronounce them) in serving bowls due to a lack of regular bowls:

Hello, college life.
Good to see you again.

For one more week, it's the three American Ambassadorial Scholars... and two international models, of course. I knew coming to Cape Town would expose me to a multitude of cultures, given its highly international population, but I didn't factor in the culture of modeling (more on that later). I must admit that it's been fun getting to know the lifestyle of a traveling model, and we've met a handful of super interesting people through the model circle (several of Tommy's friends live just down the street). I can't help but laugh at this life of mine when I run into one of them on Kloof Street. Life is full of surprises. 

To be honest, though, this is the sort of thing for which I live. Unpredictability, new people with new personalities from new cultures… these are the things worth remembering. In our house, which we’ve affectionately deemed The Revolving Door, we’re consistently exposed to new cultures, and we laugh at the variety of accents you can hear at any given time. Even the Lindseys from America learn from each other, as Philadelphia and Bowling Green, Kentucky are certainly not one in the same.

Most people crave complete stability, and I must admit that there are plenty of times when I’m wishing for just that. More often than not, though, I’m craving possibility and a story worth telling. It seems I’ve landed in just the right place for all of the above in 2013.