Yes, I know, I stopped writing. I’ve started countless posts that I’ve abandoned halfway through. I went to Greece with the passionate intention to write about my experience, it’s just that, I’m not sure how to verbalize it, how to share it. I arrived in Leros and jumped into an exciting, emotional, overwhelming, and sad tornado that consumed me until the moment I boarded a tiny plane back to Athens. It’s taken me a few weeks of aimlessly wandering around Europe to sort it all out. Continue reading “Silence”
Seemingly, everyone I’ve met since landing in Athens has an opinion about the refugee crisis in Greece – locals, Uber drivers, NGO’s, police, and refugees themselves. Opinions are freely shared with me once I disclose what I’m doing here (teaching yoga in a refugee camp) and I listen, hesitating to form an opinion until I’ve had my own experience on the island of Leros, my home for the next month or so. Continue reading “POC, Refugee, Resident”
Great question. Also, one of the most frequently asked questions along with how old I am (followed by why are you not married) and how I feel about Trump. Most frequently my answer is I don’t know- depending on who I am talking to and when. I still don’t have answers for most of these questions, but I do know what I am doing, for the next few months at least. Continue reading “What Am I Doing?”
I had already taught 2 classes, been bitten by a slobbery baby, gotten my hair pulled, braided, and tied in knots, and it’s my last kids yoga class of the day- I’m out. I finally get all the kiddos to make a circle (ten minutes later) when I feel a little hand grabbing my leg. I go to brush the hand away so I could teach, a little annoyed, and then saw the culprit. Continue reading “Azola”
“Close your eyes”
Uh, alright. I can feel the group of 8-10 year old eyes looking intently my face. I open my eyes to thier intrigued glances. Perfect almond shaped brown eyes studying me.
“Close them again” Continue reading “Purple”
When you enter Langa Township, the first thing you see is a brand new public housing complex that is quite nice. The government has stepped in and replaced settler communities with new public housing. 50% of the housing for Cape Town residents and 50% for migrants from the East. At first I didn’t understand the dynamics of this, but it became clear as I made my way through Langa.
I’m walking through the Langa township and looking around, so far it seems quite nice. Houses, cars, schools, a swimming pool, think suburban neighborhood. So, um, where are the guns, drugs, and gangs that I expected to see? I know, I know, that sounds bad, but really. I’ve been warned in the area I’m staying about the Capricorn township and the crime, drugs, gangs, ect. I had to ask. Continue reading “Talk of the Townships”
Alright, South Africa- you finally won me over. For whatever reason my first week here I was feeling a bit off, uncomfortable about where I was and what I was doing. It doesn’t feel like what I know of Africa here, it’s more Western, developed, and there are a bunch of white people that speak English (I’m not a muzungu anymore). Maybe I should have gone somewhere (like Tanzania) that I’m more comfortable? Continue reading “Game On”
Surfs up- and I’m down. Nothing turns out the way I think it will be. I had visions of myself killing it- surfing like a pro on the perfect waves of the warm South African ocean in the sun. Well. That was a nice vision, but not quite reality. Continue reading “Surf’s Up”
So I’m learning Kiswahili before I head to Tanzania this summer. What is Kiswahili you ask? Well. Let me tell you. Kiswahili is actually the proper name of the language Swahili, spoken in many countries in East Africa. It’s just that we say it wrong, and don’t even know that we say it wrong. It drives Kiswahili speaking people crazy! Continue reading “The Kiswahili Challenge”