Val "ACT" is moving on

It’s been a month-ish since coming back from Cape Town and I have to admit it’s a little strange. On one end of the spectrum, it feels like it never even happened; like some kind of weird, lucid, three-month-long dream. On the other hand, not being there makes me feel like I’ve out-grown my life BCT (Before Cape Town), as if I used to be fine with wearing shoes that were too tight until I went to Cape Town, and now that I’m back they’re absolutely stifling-ly, suffocating-ly brutal (excuse my use of non-existent words). There ain’t no way I’m putting those shoes back one. Uh-uh. Dumped a few friends (who were on the out anyway for various reasons) and was able to dust myself off and move on. Dumped that old mentality I had BCT, dusted myself off and moved on. Saw where I wanted to go from there and went for it. I feel different, but I guess I still can’t articulate what it is about me that has changed. Probably because it’s not any sort of trait about me that has really been altered, but a gradual unearthing of who I’ve always been underneath all of the social pressures, expected norms and BS masks. Maybe it’s just because I know myself better now. I know what I want and, though not in entirety, more of who I am.

For the most part though I can’t say I’m going through intense withdrawal. Going to Cape Town and leaving Cape Town happened exactly when I was ready to do both. I was ready to dramatically expand my worldview in January and I was ready to go on another adventure by the time the trip was coming to a close, so it was perfect timing. I had a summer full of North Carolina, baseball and research to look forward to, all of which had me in school-girl-jumping-up-and-down excitement, so what was waiting for me once I touched back down in the States had me in a different place than I thought I would be: mourning the close of one awesome three-month journey, but thrilled about what was next to come. Cape Town was great, but I was ready to keep moving.

I still find myself in Cape Town though sometimes (obviously not physically but in my mind). Today I was typing my address into my computer for one reason or another and I found myself typing 10 Loch Rd. I then took at least 5 minutes to figure out why that was my gut reaction and then where I was and then where 10 Loch Rd. came from and then again back to where I was. Despite the balmy North Carolina weather, no, I am not in Cape Town. No, that black dog sitting next to me is not Molly. Yes, that cock roach on the porch is a cock roach, but not a South-African-kitchen cock roach. Sigh, gotta love those international roaches. It is not acceptable to be barefoot all of the time, which seems ludicrous to me. People hundreds of years ago were barefoot (!!and hunted barefoot!!) and they survived (obviously because they procreated), so why can’t I walk into a store and buy a friggin’ sandwich with no shoes on? Also, when explaining to people what South Africa is like, I find myself openly saying “he/she is black” or “colored”, which of course gets people’s panties in a twist because it’s such a taboo word. After so openly addressing race, and discussing what race meant in South Africa of course, I actually got shushed. Shushed, I tell you. He-who-shall-not-be-named-on-this-blog shushed me and almost got a handprint on his face in response. It’s a good thing, for both of us but mostly him, that I was eating a really good Philly cheese-steak at the time and refused to put such a majestic sandwich down (GASP) because of his discomfort with the topic. No one should ever have to do such a thing.

I do miss our group, even though I was so ready to not live in a house with 18 other people (or 17 or however many UConn-ers were in that big ole mansion). I miss having perpetual sleepovers with Cassie, dancing to Shania Twain with Cassie and Morgan, the various ways Cassie and I would pick on Manny (not enough room to list them), David’s nonchalant rehashing of his near-death experiences, heart-to-hearts with Ava, Jen and Kiya’s magnificent cooking, Johnny being Johnny, margarita jugs at Fattys, trivia at On a Roll and everything in between.

So, while Cape Town was the most challenging, enriching, terrible, fantastic experience of my life thus far, I’m ready to create some new adventures; adventures that will be challenging and enriching and terrible and fantastic, but in totally different ways. Cape Town made me thirsty for life.  I’m moving with that thirst. And it’s awesome. Val ACT (After Cape Town) is going places.