My
favorite part of Cape Town so far: everyone here has an interesting story and
they don’t hold back sharing them. My experiences in the US are that people
mostly keep to themselves and avoid sharing too much to people they just met. Here
I get on the train and by the time I get off I say goodbye to someone who I now
know everything about his childhood, his grandkids, his religion, and a new
list of all the places I should visit (you’ll never get the same exact list
from any two people). I also have a running list from many different people of
How to Spot an American in Cape Town 101 (and I fit into every criteria…). I’ve met a man who was born in Jo-berg, was
adopted by an American couple, is now in Cape Town, and enjoyed talking to us
about his impressions of both countries. The receptionist at my internship
shared deeply personal stories before she could even remember my name. I’ve met
people and students from Zimbabwe, Amsterdam, Germany, Ghana, Mali, etc. and
everyone has taught me something interesting about where they come from.
 |
| Melanie at Green Point Stadium . . . discussing American politics. |
Yesterday
at the Ghana vs. Libya African cup finals I sat next to man named Michael who
knew way more about American politics than I ever will. Basically he was really
smart and challenged every political and social idea I’ve ever had. Then he
talked about growing up during Apartheid and where he lived in Jo-berg wasn’t
really affected by it as much so his parents sheltered him from it. He asked,
“Would it surprise you to know that I grew up in the middle class suburbs?” I
didn’t actually answer but yes, it did. I had kind of assumed most black people
here struggled a lot in those years. Guess it goes back to South Africa being
so diverse. He remembers visiting his cousin far away and wanting to go
swimming in a pool but his cousin kept saying he couldn’t and Michael didn’t
understand why. He said he and his parents feel guilty now about not fighting
the Apartheid regime like many did. He said we owe to the people who did fight
for where South Africa is now. That made me think a lot about whether I would
be someone to fight or to sit back and focus on my family and day to day needs.
And how would my race have impacted that? “If it weren’t for those people, I
would be sitting here and you would be over there,” he said pointing to the
other side of the stadium. I felt so sad that even a small conversation with a
stranger which is overall insignificant would have been lost. And it makes me
so sorry for all the diverse stories that weren’t
ever told.
Along
with an appreciation of listening to everyone’s stories it’s become clear to me
(especially with the help of my fellow UConn students) that I too have an
interesting story to tell. Though it may not be as serious as living under
Apartheid or becoming the first this or that to do something cool I am a person
with unique life experiences that nobody will know about unless I share them. I
admire the open people I’ve met here so much because I so often avoid talking
about myself for fear or being misunderstood, boring, or vulnerable. Overall I
have learned that we all have stories to tell, perhaps some of us just need some
practice J
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