Val gaining insight into how people should be treated

The past few weeks have been about adjusting. It seems like we’re finally finding some sort of semblance of normal, although I don’t know if you would consider choosing between authentic Ethiopian, pan-African and McDonalds delivery for dinner or, on a relative whim, climbing one of the Seven Wonders of the World necessarily normal. Also, to provide further insight into the beauty of Mr. Delivery (the delivery service here), yes, McDonalds can be delivered. And yes, the laziness in the big house has reached an epic new level. Who WOULDN’T jump at the opportunity to have obesity delivered to their front doors rather than through their car windows?

To get back to the point, let me rephrase: we are finding normalcy in doing abnormal things; or, at least, abnormal for most American twenty-somethings. Which, in my case, involves successfully giving myself food poisoning due to my lack of culinary skills with chicken (is that really abnormal for you Val? Let’s be real here, no.). Let’s hope at least for both the sake of my teeth, since stomach acid tends to do unfriendly things to those babies, and the sake of my roommate (Val throwing up every five seconds at night = no sleep for Cassie) that that particular abnormality does not become a part of the whole normalcy-in-abnormality thing.

So, other than my up-chuck reflex being exercised recently, needless to say, with the steady influx of new information, my brain has been pretty jammed up with thoughts. I’d love to be able to sort them out here, but you probably don’t want to hear about my feelings on curry followed by a rant complete with cyber *hairflips* about the Fat Cactus waiter James (hashtag drama). But what I will disclose is that Cape Town has been many wonderful things, which I’m sure you’ve heard plenty about from the blogs of my peers. What strikes me the most is the beauty of this place, and no, I don’t mean the physical beauty. Yes, seeing Table Mountain every day from the baby-deck at the big house is pretty darn snazzy (I ain’t blind people), but that isn’t the most remarkable part of Cape Town. It’s the people. There’s the middle aged dude passing you on the street who doesn’t know a thing about you, but looks you in the face as you walk by and says, “Good Morning”. There’s the father with his five year old who not only offers you directions when you walk around looking like the clueless tourist that you are, but takes time out of his day to take you to where you need to be just in ensure that you get there safely. There’s the funky hipster chick at the bar who catches your attention as you walk by just to tell you that you’re beautiful. And there’s the church full of people who, even though you are some random white students from America filling up their already packed, sweltering church and taking their seats, show you how to dance and laugh with you as you play with their children.

Now by no means am I being naïve or romantic about Capetonians. They are not unicorns and they are certainly not Beyonce (in other words they aren’t perfect). Not every single one of them offers me a smile or has the best intentions for a 20 year old white American girl, but the overall attitude of this place exudes familiarity. By that I mean it doesn’t feel awkward or intimidating to talk to strangers. In fact, strangers don’t really feel as “strange” as they do back home in America. Because of the lack of personal space, constant touching, eye contact and general openness of everybody towards everybody, it’s almost like constantly being surrounded by your big Italian family, minus the force feeding and the excessively loud talking. And, to my surprise, I like it. I like having the ability to strike up an easy conversation with strangers over squash and carrots in the grocery store. I like smiling at people who walk by without the threat of someone thinking I’m creepy or overly friendly, like back home. People are people here. And there’s a certain level of respect that is met in recognizing that each person on the street deserves a smile and a “Good Morning”. The effortlessness and simplicity of it hits me like a wrecking ball (Miley Cyrus reference). I want to be more like that. People in general should be more like that. Inspiration has been found, ladies and gents. Thank you Cape Town for providing me with the obvious, but not so obvious (obviously) insight into how people should be treated as people. I’m going to go contemplate WHY those ideas never crossed my mind before this moment. And also maybe eat my weight in cookies.

Cassie & Val