Love in South Africa

Love in South Africa

What should have been a five hour drive from Dundee to Pretoria has already turned into an 8 hour trip, and we’re still on the road. We have made two stops: the first for our lunch, and the second one to use the restroom at a gas station.

Fortunately, the program has contracted a fairly comfortable bus that ameliorates the otherwise irritating long ride.

We have seen two films, one required by the professors and another one requested by the group. I wish I could say what the latter of the films was, but I was either asleep or reading “Gay Latino Studies: A Critical Reader,” that will help me shape my Departmental Honors Thesis.

I wish I could take pictures of the beautiful South African sunset that has become my view out the window, but I broke my camera earlier this week. It’s a giant circle, a ball of yellow, orange, red colors slowly hiding in the mountains.

I am going to miss this sunset. But as this sun goes down in South Africa, it’s going up back at home in L.A. I can’t imagine the program is almost over. I have mixed feelings about this.

In a few days, I will be packing my bags once and for all. I will have to find creative ways of making sure that I can fit all the souvenirs in only one bag.

I will finally have access to all the tacos that I want. I’ll be able to return to my non-stop texting habit.  And I will never have to worry about whether or not I will have internet to check my facebook.

But this is going to be a difficult good-bye. I have fallen in love in South Africa. Although, my mom warned me about falling in love in a different country. I can honestly say that I have found something amazing.

No, I have not fallen in love with a man here (even though the possibility was very tempting). But I have fallen in love with this country. There is such a rich history that is often untold and unheard by many. There is a great amount of diversity, and with all that diversity a tremendous amount of love. Though the history often tells the story of oppression, of hatred between races, in the midst of this disenfranchising story lies the overlooked story of love.

It is love that kept the African National Congress fighting during the Apartheid Regime. If there was no love for freedom, peace, and for love humanity—there would be no resistance. So as I spend my last few days in South Africa, not only will I immerse myself in all the history, the resistance, but will take a particular interest in the way that love is displayed.