i’m waiting to board, my bags (along with their owner) are a wreck. what have i gotten myself into??

that’s right! i have a plane ticket and everything. i’m off to joburg on tuesday! THAT’S RIGHT TUESDAY.

needless to say i am losing it. i have so much to do because i’m a big fat procrastinator: see people, pack, go through stuff, harry potter (we’re getting published!), pick up some things, research houses and and and… i’m making biscuits.

YEA BISCUITS.

besides having leftover sausage gravy (which is still delicious to all you nay-sayers), the recipe i usually use involves whacking the bejeezus out of the dough. HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT.

i am nothing if not a stress eater. man, biscuits. alright, but i shouldn’t be stressed. this is going to be completely ok. i’m only on the ground there for a month, then be back in the states thru christmas, then back in joburg for three months. this is the tentative plan. no big deal

it’s gonna be ok. just breathe, girl. eat a biscuit. hoo boy.

so, an update:

i don’t really have one.

last week i met with THE TEAM, who are a greatly experienced and very endearing group of people, in dulles (God help us all) for two very intense days of initial assessment and all the jargon and information (ALL THE JARGON). to say the least it was legit, but also exhausting (i think at one point i told another volunteer that i felt like a puppy in a pack of dogs–just can’t keep up). HOWEVER i think i did pretty well at understanding what was going on. amen.

i tell you this to tell you another thing: we talked about and decided when we needed to leave for joburg and now we’re stuck. basically, i don’t know when we’re leaving. it’s something i’m getting used to, i think–this having to wait on bureaucracy thing, ’cause i think that’s what it is (that’s what it always is?). when i was in school (let’s be honest, whenever) we’d talk about how frustrating bureaucracy is. and not so much forms as the waiting. just…WHY?? why can’t people just make decisions?? i know it’s not just me, blunt, ohmygodjustdoit me, but i also know that’s how these things are done.

[quick anthro blurb: 'egalitarian' society with hierarchical functions much? geez, seriously, i know gravitas gotta be gravitas, but COME ON. aren't NGOs supposed to be quasi-celeritas in the whole human aid deal? guess the juniors gotta become the seniors at some point...MERCY].

patience, patience, PATIENCE.

so, in lieu of my unknown departure date, come on over to my open house this sunday evening for some munchies, some wine, and some face time with yours truly before i head off the continent!

shots!  i got all the shots today, folks.  ALL THE SHOTS.

first, the routine: tetanus and influenza; the required: hepA second round, polio, and yellow fever; aaaand the pill: typhoid!

all.  the.  shots.  it was all very professional and travel-y and involved with a booklet and prescriptions for tummy drugs and recommendations.  i couldn’t take the rabies set because i won’t be here long enough, so i suppose those will have to be an on-site venture; i will NOT be taking treatments for getting rabies because a) uncalled for and b) i will not be taking the glue-consistency immunoglobulin injection.  NO.  NO THANK YOU.  so, thank you travel book, i will be on the lookout for rabid dogs, jackals, and mongooses (mongeese?), much obliged.

so, in other south africa news, i’ve been tasked with the venture of the initial search for our housing in joburg.  yea!  DID YOU KNOW that joburg is demarcated into suburbs?  like, i know america does that, but these have boundaries–physical lines.  the administrative regions are different and fewer (and only a little similar and only a little recently drawn) and it’s just really interesting.  going to south africa so historically, relatively close to the end of apartheid kind of makes me nervous, but also makes me pretty piqued.  thank you anthropology for giving me that much–loaded metaphors and colonialism anxieties.  classic.

 

ah, here we are.  hello blog!  hello adventure times!

here’s the short: I’M MOVING TO SOUTH AFRICA … well, kind of yes.

i’m heading over to johannesburg for an internship with project hope, who’s helping the nelson mandela foundation build a children’s hospital in joburg.  i’m signed on with them for at least a year (fingers crossed on a real job) and will probably be back in the states here and there (visas what?).

so details?  uh, well, here’s what i know: 1) i need to get shots, 2) i’m basically going to be everyone’s shadow/personal assistant, 3) i’m leaving the last week in october (!!!!), 4) I NEED SHOTS, 5) I NEED NEW CLOTHES (!!), 6) i get room, board, transportation, and emergency evac (hopefully won’t need that!), 7) there’s going to be a very fancy-pants security car, 8 ) SHOTSSSSS.

ok, so the details aren’t very… detail-y.  i’m basically slowly getting information, slowly getting acclimated to this whole crazy thing i’ve signed on for (deja vu, much?), but all  most of the pertinent things i need to know are there.

SO EXCITED.  you can follow me here, or maybe some on facey-space-books (molly’s joburg adventure), or of course the snail mail.  do drop me a line with an address or email if you want to keep up that way.  no promises on consistency like the hong kong deal, though.  i’ve been told there’s going to be panic awesome super busy time and bored bored boring bored down time.  i will valiantly do my best!

i love you all and miss you all already.  i am planning on having an open house type deal to give my regards to everyone at once (too little time to do all these adieus separately, sorry)–so keep a look out for that!

lovelove

current playlist slash songs that are stuck in my head: “navy taxi”/kate nash, “gravity”/sara bareilles, “nothing’s gonna harm you”/sweeney todd, “don’t call me whitney, bobby”/islands, “legally blonde”/legally blonde broadway, “the district sleeps alone tonight”/death cab for cutie.

my house is falling apart–door handles are breaking, hinges going, toilets failing, rear axel bearings disintergrating–just going.  my uncle’s been here a bit longer than i have and he’s been good enough to fix things up.  besides being ovbservant and having the uncanny ability to read a manual, he’s been in construction for a good long time, so he’s pretty capable at fixing most things.  it’s been keeping him busy like baking and cleaning have kept me busy.  since i’ve been home, i’ve cleaned the house over about three times and just played the part of the automatic vaccuum.  i’ve also baked a pie, a loaf of banana bread, and any other meal not already prepared by the church.  i’m fixin’ to make a pumpkin loaf tomorrow.  there is so much food in my house right now.  i hope it gets eaten.

i spent eight hours in jfk on monday.  eight.  i could’ve drove home.  there was the original four hour lay-over, then the plane was late, then they spent two hours trying to find our lost captain, and, of course, the hour to de-ice the plane.  i fell asleep in the terminal with a couple other international travellers–i’m really not sure how i made it on the plane.  i’ve decided that jfk is the dulles of new york city.  coming off the plane at jfk was strange and slightly lonely, but getting off at reagan was like coming home.  i love d.c. and knowing that the capital was all around me almost brought me to tears, even when the only thing i could see flying in was the potomac.  my dad and my uncle picked me up after waiting in the airport for eternity (my cell phone doesn’t work here) and we got home by about midnight, where i started cleaning and unpacking in my jetlagged stupor.  it was probably good that i got mostly unpacked because my aunt from ireland and my unrelated-aunt-who-might-as-well-be-related came in the next day.  before they got in, my uncle and i went to go see my grandma at the hospital.

mourning hong kong would be great right now, but i don’t have enough room in my heart to do so.  my grandma is jaundiced.  so much so that the clotting purple spots on her skin pop out in beautiful contrast.  she recognized me when i walked in the room, thank God, and told me it was good to see me.  i think that’s been the overall feeling of my homecoming–relief.  we sat with her and i kept a hand on her–i’m tactile like that.  she blearily stared over at me and choked out, “touch is life.”  i crumbled a bit and told her about hong kong and how much i was going to bake.  “i’ll make a pie… is apple good?  would you like that?  alright.”

i’d love to make some beautiful metaphor right here connecting my house falling apart and my grandmother dying and how just like my uncle mends our house, our family can mend and life tumbles on no matter what pops up, but i’m just too stretched for words.  i’m still a bit jetlagged, my family’s stressed, i just don’t have it in me.

i won’t be updating this blog until the next trip.  this is my travel blog and i am not travelling right now.  i am home or in my general place of normalcy.  if you do wish to continue with the adventure that is my life, you can head over to my normal blog.  i’ll be continuing updates on my grandma, family, life etc.  thanks for everyone who read about my life and times–i appreciate all the support and care you’ve poured out on my family and me.

cheers, molly

since i’ve been at jfk (note: this was written on monday), i’ve seen several hasidic jews, g’s, english signs with spanish subtitles, indians selling greek food, and more snow than you can throw a tractor trailer at.  i do love this country.  but i miss hong kong.  i’m looking out the window at all the vehicles clearing snow and at the low clouds thinking that they’re mist-covered hills distorted by the thick atmosphere.  my heart sank a little when i realized it’s just more snow.

it’s a little weird being back, not overwhelmingly so, but just a bit.  it’s weird not being surrounded by throngs of people.  it’s weird hearing an american accent.  true story.  i’m listening to cnn while I wait at the gate and it’s so odd.  i’m used to those sonorous vowels and words like, ‘lift,’ ‘take away,’ and ‘yoghurt.’  everything’s so short here, so wide, so spread out.  this airport is practically deserted, partly because it’s a monday afternoon, partly because there just isn’t the same population as in hong kong.  it feels a little… isolating.  “whut.”  i know, i know.  mobs of people, not a one you know, sounds fairly distancing, but it’s not.  you’re one of a million people in the same city, breathing the same air, seeing the same things, eating the same food, hearing the same dumb mtr announcements over and over and over.   it’s weird.

the first american food I ate?  pastrami and swiss on a kaiser roll (i don’t care for rye).  i ordered and paid for a gyro, but they weren’t making them or something and the cashier was so sweet—she just gave me something else without charging me.  and i chatted with this couple on their way to cancun and the woman said she’d pray for my grandma after i dribbled out my sob story.  they’d really been the first people i’ve actually physically conversed with all day.  and i kind of missed chatting up random strangers; it’s just something you don’t do in hong kong.   well, that and no one would ever really talk to me anyway because they’re really shy about their english.  but you don’t just start talking to people you don’t know.  and i think that’s true for a lot of places—it’s one of the reasons americans don’t like the french (they’re not being rude, you’re just being weird.  get over it)—you just don’t talk to strangers.  i know, i know, ‘stranger danger,’ but who outside five-year-olds, introverts, and sketchy neighborhoods actually follows that.

anyway, the flight over here went really well.  well, outside of the quasi-sobbing at the beginning.  wait, let me start at the day before i left.  i went to mong kok on sunday.  i facebooked a couple people at my church and let them know the news and the koreans (bomi and soo) and me went to mong kok.  i shopped and bartered like there was no mañana.  yesssss.  good times.  we went to home fairy for dinner with a mob of people and I finished packing for a bit before everyone came over to hang out in my room and take my food.  upon realizing that I had cake mix, someone suggested we make a cake with our remaining two hours together (i had plans to get to bed by midnight because i had to leave by six.  ha.  fat chance, but it was a good goal).  what a splendid idea!  we all helped make this delicious orange devil’s food cake, which never really baked all the way through because the pan was supposed to be for deep dish pie slash was too big for the oven, so it was open a crack, but we figured, to hell with it, if we’re going to die of anything in hong kong, it is not salmonella.  Kailah had ice cream, too, so we spread out newspapers on the floor and plopped the cake down, got our a la mode on, and devoured the thing.  it was such a splendid evening—random and simple, with such laid-back energy.  it was everything i wanted in my last night there.

ruby is a dearheart.  i didn’t see her on sunday, so she met me at lingnan this morning at six.  we were both running late (i woke up at 550) but she helped me with my bags and went to the airport in a cab with me to see me off.  it was everything i needed this morning, so thank you ruby, i heart you!

as i was walking to the gate after getting though security (which doesn’t make you disrobe and take off your shoes), i called my mom to let her know i was getting ready to leave.  she was at the hospital and i asked if she could put grandma on.   oh.  her voice was clear, but tired as she sighed into the phone and i tried abysmally to choke back the tears in my voice.

i had the very last seat on the plane, number 66, a window that i thought was next to an empty space, but was really just a row of two.  whatever, it was doable.  i was hoping for a nice old lady or some attractive guy, but i got a middle-aged asian man with dandruff and a blow-up neck pillow.  oh, well.  i’d probably be a real drag for 16 hours anyway.

i kept my window open to miserably watch hong kong disappear beneath the already thick clouds, then shut them for the rest of the flight.

it went well, this flight.  i watched four weddings and a funeral first (just… i know.  just don’t mention it.  it has hugh grant and possibly my favorite eulogy ever.  just, don’t ask), the star wars episode of family guy, popped a benadryll and tried to sleep after lunch, with little success, i might add.  then, there was australia, which is INCREDIBLE.  oh my goodness, i did enjoy it quite a lot.  then slumdog millionare.  i can completely understand why it cleaned up at the oscars because it was AMAZING.  i finished out my sixteen hours with the secret garden, which i haven’t seen since i was a kid, but i liked it then and i’m glad to say i like it now.

we’ve since landed and now i’m just waiting for my flight home.

my grandma’s dying.

sigh.  it’s strange.  my dad told me this morning (note: i started this post on saturday); somehow he’s always the bearer of bad news.  i think he makes it more palatable.  there are so many thoughts in my head and so many emotions creeping around my heart.  i’m sure there are words to describe what i’m even trying to emote, but i’m too tired and too overwhelmed to really even remember to breathe.  i feel so numb and so alive at the same time.  i count my smiles.  i don’t feel guilty about them, but i acknowledge that they happen and think them so strange.  when my dad was getting choked up yesterday telling me about my grandma’s lucidity, i thought it was so strange.  it’s my mother’s mother who’s dying.  you think it’s weird, too, right?  but it makes total sense.  my grandma’s been present for more than a third of his life; it makes complete sense that he’d be emotional.

i’m not shocked.  if anything i know i’m feeling, it’s not that.  the thought of my grandma dying has been sinking into my heart like a feather in quicksand since that day last april in the car with my mother when she choked out the words, “it’s cancer.”   i remember that day so strongly.  tears were in her voice and on my face.  we sighed into each other’s shoulders and told each other we could only take one step at a time.  skip forward to around my birthday and we were at johns hopkins for her surgery.  it was actually a decent day–johns hopkins is fabulous and the surgery went swimmingly.  re-coop was hard.  harder than the chemo.  and then there was a grace period around the december.  thanksgiving was hard, christmas was better.  she seemed to be on the mend.  but there were still traces of cancer cells in january and the chemo was on again by february–intense chemo straight to the veins.  she collapsed on ash wednesday.  her heart was too slow, so they put in a pace-maker, but her liver and kidneys were in bad shape.  the chemo wasn’t working.  which brings us to today and what my dad called, “the hardest conversation he’s ever had.”  hopefully, she’ll be in hospice at my house by the time i get home on monday.

i’m not upset that i came here.  i was at first.  i tried not to be because i know nothing’s truly in my hands, but, oh, i was so mad.  what a tease this trip is–a taste of what’s different in this world, my first great adventure!  the thought that makes me more mad is that there’s part of me that’s happy to be going home.  i almost can’t stand it.  my only consolation in it is that i think it’s more relief than happiness.  it was really stressing me out to be here with the fam kind of in a haze of crazy.  but my anger’s subsided for now, we’ll see what happens when i get home.  i understand that death is a part of living, but that hard knowledge is poor comfort on a cold day.  if anything i’m disappointed.  i like finishing what i start and i’m not finishing my exchange–i can’t really afford it fiancially and emotionally and there’s really just no way i’d be able to incorporate this change into my life half way across the world.

but this isn’t the end of my adventure.  it’s just a unexpected turn i hadn’t planned on, and, frankly, one of which i’m not an entirely huge fan.  but i’m not giving up on this–i don’t think i’m supposed to–this is just another waiting period for the next step, another block to add to the building of my life.

“remember if you have faith there’s no need for worry. worry is for those without faith…”

grandma’s in the hospital.  i’ve had a day with it, but rather than puke out some emo post, i’m going to wait until hindsight gives me clarity.  but i would greatly appreciate it if everyone could keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

i found out this morning in between taking a shower and finishing my presentation for visual cultures.  well, tried to finish it.  i was a bit distracted.  honestly, though, if i didn’t have a presentation today and scheduled lunch with ruby and lindthy (local students who studied at my school last semester), i would’ve stayed in bed ’til friday.  i met ruby and lindthy outside the canteen and they graciously showered me in hugs and distractions like, “you shouldn’t drink that soup ’cause it’s full of msg,” or “i wish i could see josh’s poor heart-broken face” (long story).  after more hugs i went back to my room and polished up my presentation.

i actually got to class…. on time.  drat.  i had meant to be early.  whatever.  the other presenter was nervous and asked frantically if i wanted to go before or after her.  after telling her i didn’t mind which and watching her freak out, i told her i’d just go first.  i pulled up my powerpoint (which i loathe.  powerpoints are a waste of my life.  i mean, they’re good if you’re showing graphs or images or something.  but really.  not necessary.  buck up, yea?) and i couldn’t help but smile.  i don’t know what it is–i actually like presenting.  there’s just something about standing in front of a crowd that forces a smile on my face, even when i’ve had a crappy morning.  maybe it’s just a gut reaction.  i don’t know–things just make sense when i’m presenting (enter christina ricci… ha.  ok.  no more obscure speed racer references).

it went well; i mean, i jabbered on about identity for five minutes, which i can mostly successfully b.s. in any given situation.  grief had settled in me by then, however, and i was exhausted.  (no she didn’t die–people don’t have to be dead for you to grieve them.)  so i headed back to my room but found some of the exchange students around the canteen table.  i chatted with them for awhile and was heading back to my room when kailah (amerca; english tutor) called me.  we’d planned to go to the wetmarket at fu tai to get groceries, which i was all about doing, but i was about to pass out.  we agreed to go after my nap.

the wetmarket is AMAZING.  it’s every open market i’ve ever dreamed of and more.  there are buckets upon buckets of live fish, racks of freshly chopped meats, nuts, fruits, veggies i ain’t never seen before, random appliances, and pretty much anything i could ever really need.  sigh.  i love it.  i bought a head of brocolli, an onion, fresh eggs picked that morning,  fresh egg noodles, and split a bunch of bananas with kailah (oh bananas.  i’m glad i remembered they exist).  if i hadn’t been exhausted i probably would’ve fainted from shear joy.  we went back to campus and eventually i got around to making myself some dinner–yessssssss.  it was interesting to say the least–one pot, one hot plate, a knife, and the lid of a plastic container turned cutting board.  oh, yes.  oh, and i hate hot plates.  don’t get me wrong, i’m all for portable stove top, but really? i’ve seen rocks keep more consistent heat.

mmmmmm.  yum.  num yummy.  i love cooking for myself.  egg noodles with scrambled egg, brocolli, chinese cabbage, onion and a nice wide helping of oyster sauce.  there’d be pictures but it was gone and stowed away in my tummy before i thought of cameras.  i’m contemplating spending what’s left of my evening in the library perusing.  it’d be better than this closet of a room.

OH.  and why have i not read good omens yet?  it sounds fabulous. or why, for that matter, have i not seen the dark crystal.  mayhaps i’ll remedy that tonight.  WE SHALL SEE.

UPDATE:  LIBRARY FAIL.  the only neil gaiman they had was american gods and i had my heart so set on good omens.  i had to dig for fiction, though.  but i finally found terry prachett, who i’ve never read but have always wanted to.  they also had some philip pullman, so if the mood strikes me i can go back to his dark materials.  huzzah!  but.  they didn’t have the dark crystal or boondock saints.  sad face 3: maybe i’ll just go borrow labyrinth from jessica.  fufufu.

today is so clear a day that i can see the clouds making shadows on the hills.  it’s slightly humid–enough so that i feel more comfortable with my air conditioner on–but dry enough that i have suspicions that the hill behind my hostel is on fire (that happens sometimes).  there’s a helicopter looming on the other side of it that keeps going back and forth with a suspended bucket.

so, the past couple of days have been… interesting. homesickness?  winter depression?  poor digestion?  i don’t know.  but they’ve all been marked with a big rubber stamp of apathy.  eh.  i woke up annoyed on monday.  givy had come back incredibly late from the weekend (7 am late) and while she wasn’t loud, i’m a quasi-light sleeper and our door has a habit of being obnoxious.  and then the cleaning ladies!  now, usually i’m all fine with them.  we say good morning and everything!  but monday morning they were excited about something.  probably the fact that no one’s toilets flushed, but whatever.  loudness.  not fun.

i woke up annoyed.  i was late for class and didn’t really mind (oh, bad sign).  it was my fab visual cultures class (even worse) and we talked about… the venice biennale (haha… this one’s for you, katie).  BUT CHECK THIS OUT.  no one else thinks it’s as cool as i do, but this artist put up this cafe at the 2001 biennale and bartered these cookies for other stuff.  not just any cookies, though–negative space cookies.  AAAAAAH SO COOL.  ok. ok.  so he took a picture like this and then took the space between the buildings and make a cookie cutter out of it.  !!!!!  i love it.

i got a sandwich even though i didn’t have an appetite and sat outside to do my reading for my water class.  i had time so i went back to my room and started talking with alex from home on skype and decided to call jeremy because he’s a deadbeat andskippedmywaterclassshhh.  i feel for my mental health it was a good idea–catching up with jeremy made my heart happy.  i then took a nap.  naps make everything better in molly’s world because fatigue is definitely the enemy.  always.  i’m never clever or good with decisions or life when i’m tired.  never ever.

i turns out abby was having a day, too.  so after dinner at home fairy, we plus lukasz watched lilo and stitch and random youtubes.  i tried working on my presentation.  tried being the key word there.

lent starts tomorrow.  i knew i’d be here for lent.  i didn’t know it would have such an affect on me.  lent’s hard enough with a community, but alone…. i can only imagine why my apathy’s creeping in.  “molly.  you go to church there don’t you?  c’mon, just ’cause they’re an hour away…”  ah.  good point.  but i go to a baptist church and baptists don’t practice lent.  nice try, though, i appreciate it.  lentlentlent.  hmmm.

i did celebrate shrove tuesday yesterday… or mardi gras, fat tuesday, what-have-you.  i tried again to work on my presentation.  tried.  then i made pancakes.  oh pancakes.  i made two double batches, one with coconut milk instead (which we decided tasted fabulous with curry) and everyone was mostly pleased with the outcome (i say mostly because i hate hot plates and i didn’t put enough baking powder in the first batch.  shut up.)! then we went to sketchy vendors!  it’s like buying fake rolexes in an ally except it’s delicious dumplings/noodles/ho-bang/drinks we’re buying and it’s behind fu tai.  here’s the skinny: there are people who hang out behind fu tai and there are about three women who take their orders.  they then call in those orders and this guy on a bicycle brings them from where ever they make them.  delicious.  “molly, that’s sketchy.”  i know!  that’s why we call them sketchy vendors.  and you have to be smooth about it.  you can’t just go yelling your order to her ’cause technically they’re not supposed to be selling stuff there after hours.  oh, and it’s after hours.  they show up from about eleven until one or two or so.  yesssss.  “no, molly, i really think you might die from this food.”  pish, posh. the locals do it and so do the other exchange students for generations and they haven’t died.  well… maybe from heart attacks or something, the food’s mostly fried, but what’s late-night snacking for?

so today is ash wednesday and it’s the first time in almost a decade that i won’t go receive ashes.  i mean, it’s not necessary–i don’t believe in sacrements as necessary for salvation–but it’s strange.  it’s like i’m outside of my sphere of normalcy.  life just doesn’t feel like it happens here.