Spring break, known as “vac” with all the University of Cape Town students, came at just the right time. I spent the first few days with Elin, adventuring our way around the city. One day, we decided to hike Lion’s Head for the second time since our arrival in this country, we were guided by a guy from UCT. The three of us curved up the peak through back trials lined with thick brush, occasionally forging our own path in the wild undergrowth and tall grass. About half way to the top, Daniel suggested that we take a break and pointed to a pile of rocks that overlooked the bay as a stopping point. Elin and I enthusiastically responded, “Sure, that’s great!” not realizing that we had just commmited ourselves to bouldering across a jagged rock face, clinging to ledges and teetering on the slanted slope that dropped to the beach below. Sweating but safe, we nervously laughed and glanced at each other with “I-can’t-believe-we-just-did-that” looks before stopping to enjoy the view. Thankfully, the rest of the hike went smoothly, even the spots where crawling and climbing on all fours was required! As the three musketeers, we celebrated our feat with oranges and granola bars as we watched the sun dip below the horizon over the Atlantic Ocean.
Sunsets in Cape Town are AWEsome—filling viewers with overwhelming awe and a peculiarly powerful peace…watching the sun dip below the seemingly endless water is soothing and empowering at the same time. Upon reflecting on these evocative emotions, I think that for me, they spawn from the visual reminder and reassurance that the world does not revolve around me. No matter what I do or how hard I try, I could never stop the sun from setting and rising, or the earth from spinning and turning. I am powerless against these patterns of nature, and so as I watch the sun continue sink out of sight, stripped of authority over my surroundings, I am strangely liberated by this process. Forced to surrender to the Truth of a Power far greater than anything I can even imagine, I am freed by my inability to control, to manipulate, to plan, to organize my circumstances—freed to accept and appreciate the beauty of the way today will always become yesterday and that tomorrow will surely become today, and stand in awe of the One who made it all.
Inspired by this emotional experience yet again, Elin and I trekked down the trails of Lion’s Head with only the stars lighting our way, bode our friend farewell, and walked aimlessly through the streets of Cape Town until we happened upon a charming outdoor restaurant with bonfires glimmering around the candle-lit tables. Yes please. After sharing salads and the “line of the day” (salmon seared so perfectly it melted in our mouths), we continued our conversations about our reflections of the past couple months and our hopes for the next weeks over steaming pomegranate tea.
The rest of my time with Elin included some more meandering around Rondebosch, the neighborhood where we live, visiting Cocoa Wah Wah to catch up with our “friends” there—a.k.a. the waiters that have become our friends through our daily—sometimes more than once a day—stops at the café, resting by the water at Camps Bay, and more. Spending time with Elin is always a gift, given that she never fails to find a way to love me in the exact way I need…we laugh, we cry, we sing, we dance, we eat, we serve, we chat, we whisper, we share, we draw, we nap, we study (well sometimes we try to study but usually we just get distracted), but most of the time, we dream. We dream dreams for ourselves, for our families, our friends, our communities, our world—dreaming about the possibilities and potentials that dreams can have, if only we would follow our own and make it our passion to inspire others to pursue their dreams too.
Combining the remaining few days of “vac” with the following week of school, I flew to Nairobi, Kenya and met up with my dad to do medical work in a rural hospital. We also visited a school for disabled children in Joytown as well as Kijabe hospital, the home of an organization called Bethany Kids. I loved every second of being with my dad…whether we were bouncing up and down in the backseat of a truck that was flying over the potholes of unpaved Kenyan roads, discussing international politics and the situation of the global economy, getting caught up on what’s been happening at home while I’ve been gone, communicating across an operating table about different surgical tools and sutures, or pushing children in wheelchairs across a school campus. He is one of my heroes, and getting to spend spring break with my hero was a memorable and meaningful experience.
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