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Final Day

After a short Uber yesterday, we found ourselves at the trailhead to hike up Table Mountain, the iconic backdrop for the city of Cape Town. After a long stare up the ragged edge of the cliffs, we started along the trail. It was arduous and breath-taking (literally). For the first hour of the hike, visibility was clear, expectations were high, and altogether we were in good spirits. However, just like with any long hike, about halfway up I started to become a sentimental pastoralist, beginning to feel comically and ironically close to the nature surrounding me. I  took in the vista with hope and enthusiasm as the skyscrapers below were becoming smaller and smaller.  Just as I was settling into this mindset a sudden fog developed at the base of the mountain. The mist slowly rose to our elevation and overcame everything around us, blocking out the world beyond a ten-foot radius. And I was disappointed--this meant the view from the top would be like staring at a blank sheet of paper excep
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Apartheid

While surveying South Africa, whether as a tourist or an historian, it is impossible to not view the remnants of apartheid. Considering apartheid--forced and violent segregation along racial lines--fell only 23 years ago, the fragments of such a system persist in various forms. I find it important to explain what I've seen to you. Apartheid ruled every aspect of life. Through our experience of speaking and engaging with those who lived in that time, it is almost impossible to put yourself in their shoes. They speak of using a separate bathroom, or being abused by police, or being searched for their pass book to see if they are in the wrong place at the wrong time, or being forcibly removed from homes or family members. These things are not the passive forms of discrimination we see frequently today. They are intentional, in your face, discriminatory acts--with no motivation but pigment of skin. Not even blood or violence would stop such a motivation. It is impossible for me to

If Only We Were Worthy of It

There is no better way to intimately get to know a new environment than through a safari. The wide open truck literally incorporates you into the beautiful surroundings to be a part of the biome you are observing. Animals, plants, river beds and small ponds all gave clues to a holistic message from the environment. So let me do my best to describe it all to you. The ground is layered with a sand-like silt--not susceptible for large plant growth. The ground seems dry and arid, but unlike a desert and not dismilar to the flowing planes of Wyoming. This sand is very mobile, moving across the ground, layering the edges of the paved roads we traveled on. The sand produces a semi-long yellow-green grass, which does well to cover the whole floor of the biome. The thin grass grows tall in places, short in others, mostly due to access to water. Looking out across the horizon, medium sized bushes sprinkle the land, spaced out relatively frequently, but not completely covering all we can see

Thinking On A Plane / Inequality

Thinking On A Plane: Monday, May 15th 03:30 If you are anything like me, when you find yourself on a long flight you do a lot of thinking. Mostly about stupid stuff like: "why did God make raisins? That was a dumb move" or "wow, I'm in a steel tube darting through the air at 600 mph." But, then again, you think about important things. You think about your mom because its Mother's Day. And then you think about James Taylor and her obsession with him. You look out the window and see the vast ocean before you. You think about what that means and how you can't think of a good enough answer. You think about that song "Oceans" and then about Todd Fernandez (of course.) You think about how cold that dark blue water must be and how great the warmth in this steel carcass really is. You think about how eventually you'll see the African mainland and how you'll probably be disappointed and unimpressed because it will look just like home--g

Smack of Humility

I'm always amazed to realize how little I actually know. Yes, I do occasionally get smacked in the face with a dose of humility and come to terms with my lack of knowledge. I had this (now familiar) moment of epiphany this weekend while at a pre-departure meeting for South Africa. I think back to before I left for Rome and I especially think of my familiarity with Roman history before I left. We are taught these things in school—Julius Caesar, the Pantheon, the Coliseum, and much more—and they hold a privileged spot in our Western consciousness. But, I was still amazed to be humbled by the complexity and relevance of Roman history. The history of Rome was like a single tapestry, albeit with tears and rips, that sewn together make a profound history. My smack of humility came in a realization that South African history is not dissimilar to this ideal of Roman history. South Africa, too, can be displayed as a singular tattered tapestry, torn by war and violence, frayed by th

Sophomore Year Wrap Up

In a strong attempt to procrastinate (you know finals are only like two weeks away), I'll compile a nice short account of this wonderful, crazy year. My life as a college student is so completely jam packed, strung across a full spectrum of activities, some exciting, but mostly mundane (such is life). It seems silly to put it all together in a single place. The eclectic nature of my days is almost comical--shifting from social activism (for those who keep up with me on Facebook you're probably sick of it!), to eating crappy food, to involvement at St. Thomas, to making a fool of myself playing basketball in the HPER with Brock, to napping like it's an Olympic sport. And of course, I still find time to learn about electromagnetism or medieval women or combinatorics or dead old white guys in American History, oh and French! And still, I can say it's a wonderful life--a life that makes sense to me (sometimes) and I think that's enough. I think college kids get a b