Hashtag Grateful

"And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass"
 - Counting Crows, A Long December

At the suggestion of someone close to me, someone who I trust and admire, I started reading a book called, "The Magic."

As likely became clear in my last post, just because I've decided to return to South Africa, doesn't mean I'm not the "same old me." Clearly, I'm still vain and somewhat superficial. And, I'm still skeptical about many things, things such as higher powers, the healing powers of reiki and of course magic. 

Even though I'm practical, rational and have never cracked open a self-help book until now, I am learning quite a bit from "The Magic." I find myself thinking about the book often which means it's worthwhile and interesting.

The premise of The Magic is that there is a riddle in an ancient text, which until now has never been understood or revealed. The book claims if you understand the riddle which advises incorporating gratitude into your life, your life will change and transform for the positive. Your health, your financial situation, your relationships, everything will improve. That's the part that makes me go hmmm. But the meat of the book is practical advice and specific assignments for the reader every day for 28 days all focused on becoming someone who is truly grateful. 

The tone of The Magic, reminds me a little bit of a chain letter circa 1982. Remember those? They were all worded similarly stating something along the lines of "what could be easier, mail copies of this letter to eight people by this date and good things will come to you." But if you break the chain, and don't mail the letter, "well then....we hate to tell you this but the last person who broke the chain died. And she didn't just die, just got hit by a train and smashed to a million pieces, in fact we are still finding her body parts, and then her entire family died in a freak house fire."

Bold and unafraid even back in the 80s, I always broke the chains.  So I don't believe as the book insinuates that if I'm not grateful I will miss out on the magic and good fortune promised to those who follow the steps suggested. But I have learned there is a right way to experience gratitude and strangely enough it's not the way I was doing it prior to reading the book. My former method of gratitude was to remind myself, similar to the way a nagging friend would, how great my life is and how people live in shacks in places like Diepsloot without running water and electricity and to tell myself that the fact that I accidentally brushed up against a dirty car and got a mixture of road salt and dirt on my pants really isn't the end of the world.  I have also learned that there is so much to be grateful for in life. More than I ever considered.

As I've been in America for the past six weeks, something sort of magical has started to happen. I've begun to appreciate my unusual and somewhat unsettling situation. My limbo has transformed into something slightly magical. 

The last time I lived in America I was working and when I worked work was all consuming. Work came first. It came before fun, it came before relationships and it came before friendships. I am not sure I knew any of this at the time but in hindsight it is extremely clear to me. I can remember that even when I wasn't working, I was thinking about work and squeezing my entire life into my non-working time.  Looking back, there were too many times when I decided I couldn't go somewhere or fully enjoy something because of work. Whether I actually had to work or whether I preferred to stay home and recover from or prepare to go to work, I don't know and it doesn't much matter now. 

Now, I find myself with endless opportunity to spend time with people who are important to me. I've visited friends and family up and down the eastern seaboard over the past six weeks. I've reconnected with friends from all different stages of my life, many of whom I haven't seen in years. I've stayed with some friends at their homes for days at a time, and others I've met for just a few hours. I've been to a baby shower, a 50th birthday party and a Passover Seder. I've met the children of some of my friends for the first time. I've gone to work and grocery shopping with friends.  I collected sea glass with a friend on a cold beach in Massachusetts in February and sat on a warm beach with another friend in Florida in March. I danced to 80's tunes with a group of friends and then performed "The Gambler" for them. I braved danger and personally investigated when a tree fell on my friend's house during a snow storm. Recently, when I spent time with my parents, I had the rare chance to go to Pilates and yoga with my mom...both in the same day and then I perfectly organized the food in their new refrigerator for them. What fun! 

I am grateful. 

I am grateful that I have so many interesting, fun, unique and special people in my life who love me and have welcomed me back with such enthusiasm. I'm grateful that due to my weird circumstances that I can spend meaningful time with so many people. This opportunity will never happen again...unless of course it takes two years for my paperwork to be approved, then it might happen quite frequently, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. 

A friend of mine who I've known since I was ten, and who has no idea I'm reading The Magic, summed it up perfectly in a text message she sent me after we met one day. 

"It was so nice to see you today! On one hand I do not like that you are having to go through the not knowing how things are going to work out for you. On the other hand I am glad that we have been able to reconnect..."

So am I. 

Products

I announced in my last post that I plan to return to South Africa where I believe I am meant to be and where I think I can be my best true self. Meanwhile, here in America, I am working on other aspects of my self improvement.

As I wait in the USA for approval from the South African government to live out my dream I am keeping myself busy with other critical and life affirming work...buying a multitude of beauty products online. It seems crazy things can happen when I have a little too much time on my hands. 

I have already admitted my vanity in past posts. A main area of focus continues to be my obsession with my skin which recently someone described as "ruddy" (not a compliment by the way) and which tells me I still have work to do. Many of my online purchases are part of my continued effort for a flawless glowing face with a new goal to be rud-less.

As you savvy online shoppers know, once you click on an ad for a product on Facebook, or buy a product online on Amazon or any website, the floodgates open and (in my case) suggestions for facial creams, serums and magical elixirs that I can't live without come pouring in.

Intrigued, I recently clicked on an ad for a product called Crepe Erase. Really, the name says it all. I dare any of you 40 plus year old women who are shallow like me not to admit to having some area of skin crepe that you'd like to see erased immediately. I didn't end up purchasing any because all of the reviews said the product didn't work at all...but Dorothy Hamill and Jane Seymour are featured in the ads and they both look great. Especially Dorothy....I didn't see one speck of crepe on her and she's a lot older than I am.

Instead, I bought this eye gel by Baebody which got good reviews.  In addition to some crepe, I have really fat upper eyelids...so much so that botox injecting doctors on two different continents have commented on it....as if perhaps my eyes were so puffy that I ironically could not see out of them and view my own puffy eyes when looking in the mirror. This gel is supposed to reduce puffiness so we will see if it works.

Not one to miss out on any latest craze, I also purchased rosehip oil which if you don't know is the coconut oil of 2018. Apparently there is not a skin problem that rosehip oil can't solve. Ever since my bottle arrived I have been slathering it on my face religiously and I do like it. It seems to absorb well and hasn't caused any breakouts. 

Another product I recently bought not online but in store are these Trish McEvoy exfoliating pads because everyone knows you can't liberally coat your face with rosehip oil and not properly exfoliate. I bought these when I was having my make up done for a party because the make up artist told me that "as soon as she used one on my face" it began to glow. Glow is my magic word...say glow and my credit card automatically comes out of my wallet.

And then there is the Aztec Secret Indian Clay Mask. You may think the Aztecs were best known for creating a calendar, building pyramids and developing farming techniques. While all true, they also found a clay that miraculously does the equivalent of "vacuuming out your pores" is referred to as the "world's most powerful facial" and has "practically formed it's own cult." I certainly wanted in on this ancient Aztec secret and so I bought this stuff also. You mix the clay with apple cider vinegar (another magical potion these days in America) and apply to your face, it stings a bit because...vinegar and then dries and gets very tight. I've only used it once but I can't imagine that weekly use of this product plus daily use of the exfoliating pads and a nice layer of rosehip oil is not going to be the ideal skin perfection cocktail.

I also purchased a new mascara which is supposed to arrive sometime today...by the way don't you love how you can get a text SMS when your product is almost to you and also once it's delivered...America has this online shopping stuff down! I heard someone in the nail salon talking about this mascara one day. It's called Better Than Sex.

It's here! 

Finally, everyone knows that if your skin glows and your eyes pop a bit due to being less puffy and wearing the world's best mascara, but your teeth are yellow then you may as well throw in the proverbial face towel so to that end I also bought charcoal powder which I am now using intermittently when I brush my teeth. No, I am no longer pulling with coconut oil because it's a pain and kind of gross to swish oil around in your mouth for 20 minutes. Not that having your mouth (and entire bathroom if you're not careful) turn black from charcoal powder is not a bit unsettling. I was going to post a pic of me with a black mouth...but I just can't.

Limbo

No, not the dance contest where people try to bend backwards and pass underneath a pole without falling or knocking the pole down, but rather the state of my life. 

I'm trying to embrace limbo. But it's extraordinarily difficult. 

You may have guessed from this post, or this one, that I didn't love living in Geneva. Let me clarify that there isn't anything wrong with Geneva. Plenty of people live there and they love it. My problem with Geneva was that it wasn't South Africa which obviously it could never be.

My time in Geneva was comprised of a) thinking b) crying c) running in the park or as we like to say in Geneva, parc and d) drinking cappuccinos excessively. That is until I realized they were making me fat and I had to switch to tea. 

Note, here is the point in this post where I tried for over an hour to insert a photo from Geneva but none of my photos would load which maybe is a sign that it's not "meant to be."

Strangely, Geneva was also a positive experience. Kind of like the way someone might describe being stranded on a deserted island as a positive experience. Not pleasant in the day to day but once rescued you enjoy more clarity in life. In Geneva I found clarity for which I am grateful. I found it in the beautiful Parc de Bertrand where I ran, walked, sat, laid in the grass, dodged scooters, watched the leaves turn and pondered my life until clarity finally arrived. Even though I couldn't wait to escape Geneva, I find myself missing Parc de Bertrand and wondering what it looks like now covered in snow.

It was in Geneva that I made the decision to return to live and work in South Africa.  

We have all met people who have a serious love for the color purple (the color not the movie.) You don't meet people who love red, green or blue the way some people love purple. Why this is I don't know. I have google searched this purple loving phenomenon but haven't found anything. I think it's the same for those of us who love Africa, we love it so deeply that we are in love with it. Just as it seems odd to us non purple lovers that someone would want to dress from head to toe in purple, paint a room purple or drive a purple car, those of us who love Africa feel there is no such thing as too much Africa.

It's not just that I love Africa, or more specifically South Africa, it's that I loved the me who lived in South Africa. It's where I became the best version of myself. If you've been reading this blog for a while, I don't think you find this surprising. 

To that end, I decided that I not only wanted to return but wanted to figure out a way to work there combining my years of experience working for a non-profit organization with one of the things that I loved doing most of all when I was there, helping kids to improve their English literacy.

You would think, as I certainly did at the time, that living in Geneva and feeling so directionless was the hard part.  Or, you might think the hardest part must have been talking to Mr. Deep about going back to Africa alone. There was also the difficulty of figuring out how to get back to Africa because we as humans aren't just free to roam the earth to live and work where ever we want whenever we want. There are rules and visas and paperwork to be attended to.

With the help of many people including Mr. Deep and a South African lawyer I was able to figure it out and on February 2 I submitted paperwork to the Department of Home Affairs in South Africa, which once approved, would allow me to return there to live and work. 

Which brings us to right now, which it turns out, is the hardest part. You have no idea how much I wish I was a person who had faith. I wish I believed all the things that other people tell me such as "if it's meant to be it will happen." 

It's not that I don't think that the paperwork will be processed or that I will receive eventual approval to return, but the process will likely take months and months. A minimum of eight months my lawyer told me, until she told me it was a minimum of ten.  

This must be what it feels like for people who want to adopt a child. First, they make the hard decision to do so, then they spend a lot of money and time working with lawyers and proving their worthiness, and then they wait. They wake up each day wondering if it's the day they will receive what they so badly want and then, around 4:00 p.m., they realize that it's not going to happen that day. Maybe they spend time preparing and buying baby stuff or maybe they don't because they are so afraid that it will never come to be. It's an unusual circumstance to make such a big, important, life changing decision only to find yourself solely at the mercy of others facing a timeline you can't control or even impact. 

Tom Petty, who I've listened to and loved since I was fifteen years old passed away while we were living in Geneva. Yes, on top of everything I had to cope with Tom Petty's death while there...but Tom said it best....

"The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part" - Tom Petty

And so I wait it out in America. Trying to embrace my limbo by spending meaningful time with people I love while I wait and wait and wait. 

Tanzania

"The less I seek my source for some definitive 
The closer I am to fine" - Indigo Girls

Before Mr. Deep took off for Geneva leaving me in Joburg to manage the mother of all Ops assignments, our departure, we went to Tanzania. I will get to Tanzania in a minute. I promise. I'm as tired of talking about our move from Joburg as you are of reading about it. But I do have an important update to share. The situation that I was cranky about, the job that I thought was taking us to America, St. Louis to be exact, isn't happening. Instead, the plan is for us to spend the remainder of 2017 in Geneva, Switzerland where Mr. Deep is overseeing a project. 

When I talk about our future, I sound like a journalist. I say, "the plan for us" the way a reporter might say "the alleged attacker. " I do this because I think we might end up moving to St. Louis one day. So I'm not going to go on and on about how relieved I am not to be going. Doing so would be like telling your best friend you don't like her boyfriend only to find later they are getting married. It's better to say very little and to secretly celebrate if they break up.

And now, Tanzania. 

As you read the word do you pronounce it Tan Zan Knee Uh? Or Tan Zany Uh? Mr. Deep and I always pronounced it Tan Zan Knee Uh and then we noticed that many people here say Tan Zany Uh, a pronunciation which annoyed Mr. Deep greatly. Turns out both are wrong as the locals pronounce it Tan Zon Ya the last part almost rhyming with lasagna. 

Africa is huge.  It's 30.3 million square kilometres. In comparison the USA is 9.8. Globes are fictitious representations of scale. I know how big Africa is because when we fly to Joburg from New York we reach the coast of Africa in eight hours but it takes another eight of flying time to cross almost the entire length of the continent.  Although Mr. Deep and I have done an amazing job of visiting Southern Africa, having been to seven out of ten Southern African countries, this was our first visit to East Africa and let me tell you it's another world. 

I remember when Mr. Deep and I flew to South Africa for the very first time. I was sitting in coach and he was in business class. No, that's not the point of the story but it bares repeating that it occurred. Anyway, the man I was sitting next to told me that South Africa isn't really Africa. Funny enough today in Joburg I spoke with a Spanish lady and she  informed me that Geneva isn't really Europe. Anyway, it is true that South Africa is different from other parts of Africa and so if it's real Africa that you seek, I think Tanzania fits the bill. 

We started off with a midnight flight to Nairobi, Kenya, a four hour flight from Joburg, and then flew to Kilimanjaro Airport in Tanzania. As luck would have it we were seated on the wrong side of the plane when we flew over Kili so I don't have a photo to share with you of the mountain from the air. We were picked up at the airport and driven 1.5 hours to Arusha where we stayed at Arusha Coffee Lodge for one night before going to the Serengeti.

My first impressions of Tanzania are that people drive very slowly on long two lane roads, similar to Lesotho. Also, so many men drive motorcycles. It was almost like being in Asia (not that I've been but I imagine lots of Japanese made bikes.)  Our driver told us there are so many scooter accidents that the hospital had to build a wing dedicated to treating scooter injuries. 

Not the best photo quality but you can see the bikes and I love how every man in this pic is looking at the woman. 

Coffee beans. 

The next morning, we flew back to Kilimanjaro on a small plane. This time it was too cloudy to see the mountain. We then flew to Lake Manyara and then finally to the Serengeti. It was similar to our trip to Botswana where the plane stopped multiple times and different passengers came and went. 

As we walked down the steps of the plane, we met Justice our Serengeti guide. He took us out to the parking lot and advised us he had to file our park permit paperwork and that we should wait for him. Everyone else appeared to be in the same situation as it seems the park doesn't allow the guides file until the guests arrive. Justice had set up a lovely table for us with lunch and he showed us where the cold drinks were. 

When he returned he told us that we'd spend the rest of the afternoon doing a game drive and then we'd return to camp. It was only about noon and we'd never been given the opportunity to do such a long game drive before. We were thrilled at the prospect. He also showed us a map of the park and a paper showing us the type of birds we might see. I told him that Mr. Deep loves birds and Justice said he also loves birds so I knew we were in for some birding excitement (oxymoron.) Our pilot, Gareth, also joined us for a portion of the game drive. He wasn't scheduled to fly back until the next day and was spending the night at our camp. He rode with us for a bit until another guy from the camp came and collected him.

The purpose of visiting Tanzania in May was to witness the great migration, an annual natural phenomenon in which nearly two million antelope, wildebeest and zebras travel about 2000 miles in search of better grazing. The trip is dangerous and many animals are killed by predators such as lions and crocodiles (during river crossings) as they migrate.

Viewing the migration is challenging because the animals don't follow a strict schedule meaning you can't count on them to arrive in one area on a certain day or a certain week. This is understandable as they are animals searching for nice grass, not putting on a show for humans. In order to ensure that we maximized our one chance to see the migration we booked our trip with And Beyond safari company and stayed in a mobile camp, meaning the camp moves throughout the year to put itself close to the migration. More on this camp in a future post. 

From the moment we left the airstrip, the animal sightings were incredible. We have never seen such large herds of zebras and wildebeest at one time and we had never before seen lions in trees. 

These poor zebras were so nervous, they would go in the water, drink for a few seconds, get spooked and run and then repeat over and over. It's not easy to be the hunted. 

Photo credit to Mr. Deep for possibly the best picture taken during our entire time in Africa. Bravo! 

More to come on Tanzania....

Where is My Handbook?

The process of moving to South Africa was not easy. It was logistically challenging. The visa business was frustrating and caused a lot of angst. However, when I think back to that time, right before we left the USA and came to South Africa, my most prominent emotion was excitement. We were about to embark on a new life and I couldn't wait to get started. We laughed off the delays and challenges. It was all a big adventure.

Leaving South Africa does not feel like an adventure. It feels awful. I would love to put a positive spin on it for you and say something like, "onward and upward" or "change is good" but I can't. What I can say is, "I'm sure it will be fine." That's the best I can do. But I'm not a huge fan of fine. I prefer amazing. 

Intellectually my sadness about leaving makes no sense. How can it be harder to leave a country where I've lived for just over two years than it was to leave a country where I'd lived my entire life? How can it be harder to leave a place where things don't work all that well for a place where everything works? What could possibly be so difficult about going back to America where everyone will understand me when I speak and where I can eat tacos and drink Starbucks with reckless abandon? Not to mention being closer to family and friends.  Side note, what is wrong with me that I listed tacos before mentioning family and friends? 

When we arrived in South Africa, our relocation agent gave us a book called "Living in South Africa." Of course I never actually READ this book, but the point is there WAS A BOOK about newly arrived expat adjustment. So where is the handbook that details best practises for expats trying to depart a place gracefully? Because I have a lot of questions. 

Some of the questions are trivial, yet real. How will I survive without the constant sunshine, palm trees and smiling security guards who greet me every morning and then ask me to buy them a 2 litre Coke and loaf of bread? How will I manage without my clean house and my perfectly ironed and folded clothes made so by the world's kindest and sweetest person? What about the kids that I teach? Will they forget about me after five minutes (answer is yes being that they are eight years old.) Most importantly, how am I supposed to say goodbye to all the people here who I love...my second family, some of whom, if I'm being honest with myself, I may never see again. 

Mr. Deep has gone already. He is in Geneva working on a project for the next few months. While I am here alone for what simultaneously feels like forever and not nearly long enough, he was "ripped out of here."  Maybe that was the way to go? To leave quickly. Maybe I should have gone with him? Maybe I should have insisted on being an excellent wife and standing by my man, literally. I wonder what the non-existent expat departure handbook would have suggested I do?

I have watched other expat friends leave over the years. Some were life long expats and some were not. All were very stoic and said things like, "here's to the next adventure" which leads me to wonder, is that how they really felt? Maybe they were ready to leave and could barely contain their excitement? Maybe South Africa was getting to them and they were tired of trying to find spare change every minute for car guards, constantly sitting in traffic because of broken traffic lights, and having to visit three stores each time they wanted to buy kale? Or maybe it was breaking their hearts to leave and in the privacy of their own homes they cried a lot and got drunk every night under the guise of having to drink all of their South African wine before the movers arrived? It's hard to know. 

The thing about expat life is when it's time to go it's time go whether you want to or not and conversely for some who wish to leave it's not time to go and they have to stay. This is what we all signed on for. I guess if there were an expat departure handbook, that is what it would say. It would be a very short book. 

I got got got got no time

For years I have been asking Mr. Deep if he and I can start a business together. It's not that I have some great business idea that I think would make us millions but rather because I like spending time with Mr. Deep (most of the time) and I think our approach to accomplishing goals would lead to success. Mr. Deep and I also have complementing talents. Mr.Deep for example, could handle all of the accounting and finances for our business and I could not. For some reason Mr. Deep does not seem that excited about starting a business with me. I think it's because he has a fear of losing money. It's also possible, although unlikely, that he doesn't think working with me would be all that much fun. 

Strangely enough over the past few months Mr. Deep and I have found ourselves running a business of sorts. Although our business is not making a profit and our services are only available on a limited basis to family and friends who come to South Africa, working with Mr. Deep in this pseudo-business endeavor has proven my theory that we'd make excellent business partners. 

Like many important inventions of the modern age, the cotton gin, the printing press and the flat iron, our business concept, Time Pressure Tours, or TPT for short, was born out of necessity. The necessity of trying to plan meaningful, fun and exciting visits for people coming to South Africa for very short periods of time. 

Americans are very busy people.  Unlike Europeans who may take a holiday for the entire month of August or Canadians who take a whole year off for maternity leave, Americans like to work as much possible and they wear their busy-ness and workaholic tendencies as badges of honor. Ask an American what is new or how things are going and he will surely tell you just how busy he is. As an American, I shared these traits when I had a job. I found nothing more satisfying than working all day on Sunday only to be able to hit send on fifty emails first thing Monday morning thus hammering my colleagues with information, outlook meeting appointments and requests for analysis. I didn't even have to tell anyone that I worked all day on Sunday, but believe me, they knew. It's not only work that keeps American adults busy, it's their kids who seem to participate in an unfathomable number of sports games all of which the parents apparently need to view in person and in entirety. 

Mr. Deep and I are thrilled that over the past year we've had numerous American friends and family members take time out of their very busy schedules to come to South Africa and see us. These visits are often very short, as short as one week, although our American guests will calculate the visit as longer because they like to count time spent on the plane as part of the vacation. 

At TPT we meet the needs of our busy and over scheduled customers by planning travel agendas that are relentless. TPT allows visitors one half day to recover from flying half way around the world but beginning the morning of the first full day visitors must fasten their seat belts for they are in for a whirlwind tour of South Africa that leaves no time for tardiness, dilly dallying, questioning of or revision to the agenda.  Guests "enjoying" the TPT experience fall into bed late at night thoroughly exhausted from such adventures as visiting Cape Town, tastings at wine farms, viewing wild animals, and going to school in Diepsloot. TPT travelers learn about Nelson Mandela's struggle to gain freedom for the South African people AND the intricate details of the mating habits of hippos, they feast on braais chock full of meat (at TPT we always make time for meals), meet people who were born and raised on this continent and take in gorgeous skies and awe-inspiring scenery all in a short window that might leave many begging for a break. 

Agendas are communicated to guests prior to arrival in an email detailing the activities planned for each day. Often, our guests are so busy, that they fail to read this email in advance of the trip and so upon arrival are surprised at the sheer volume of of planned activities. Under the guidance of TPT leadership (Mr. Deep and me) guests quickly learn that their agenda has been carefully orchestrated with no room for error. If guests want to stray from the plan or are taking too much time enjoying a particular activity, TPT management will firmly rectify the situation. This was best evidenced when we took Mr. Deep's family to Boulders Beach. Everyone was enjoying the waterfront and watching the penguins when Mr. Deep suddenly announced that in order to stay on schedule we had to leave immediately. He then began walking back to the van and everyone had to follow. Similarly, if the weather is conducive, we have been known to take guests directly from the airport in Cape Town to Table Mountain to ensure an opportunity to enjoy the view before the clouds inevitably roll in. 

Mr. Deep and I are efficient, decisive and we like to have fun. These traits combined with the limited time our American friends have to spend in South Africa formed the foundation for TPT which is proudly communicated in our succinct yet memorable slogan which we state repeatedly to ensure compliance with company policy "Move Your Ass!"

Too Much Information

These days everyone is afraid of child abductions and my question is this. Are there more child abductions now than there used to be? Or are we just more aware of child abductions because of the amount of information available to us through the vast technology to which we have access? I have this same question about Autism, peanut allergies and ADHD. Did those issues exist back when I was a kid and we just didn't know? Or is there something in our environment making these problems more prevalent now than they were forty years ago? Don't answer. If I really want to know I can google it. 

Because I live nearly 8,000 miles away from my home country and many loved ones, I enjoy having information about what everyone back in America is up to and I am fortunate because I live in the age of technology and I can easily access this information. I can what'sapp with my mom every day to say hello. Mr. Deep and I can Skype, Face Time, email, and go on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter (we are too old for Snapchat.) In fact, it's only when I am on the plane flying to the U.S. from Joburg or vice versa that I fully realize how far away we currently live from America. When you have flown seven hours and still have another eleven to go you think "holy $%$&@ the world is a big place and we live far from home!" But most of the time I don't feel so far from home because of the technology that allows us to communicate and keep in touch. 

So I like technology. I'm a fan. Except lately I hate it. Facebook in particular has become intolerable in my opinion. Six months or a year ago Facebook was only mildly annoying. Last year, thanks to Facebook, I was kept fully up to speed on important American news topics such as the Starbucks red cups fiasco and the Target bathroom gender saga. Without Facebook, I would have missed important "holidays" like international frozen yogurt day or love your pet parakeet day. But these days I am avoiding Facebook because the U.S. election talk is more than I can take. 

For months leading up to the election, Facebook was unbearable and now that the election is over it is even worse. The entire news feed is full of political posts from people on all sides. Viewpoints are one thing but Facebook is full of fighting, nasty comments, stupid memes and links to articles that try to dumb everything down. 

Everyone is so busy talking and blasting out his or her opinion five times a day on Facebook that no one is taking the time to try to understand what anyone else thinks. Have you ever, EVER seen a Facebook post where someone commented "thanks Chris, your post really opened my eyes, I now fully understand your viewpoint and even if I don't agree with it I appreciate the opportunity to have my mind expanded" No, you haven't.  

I also don't want to know the political leanings of Timmy from third grade or Toby my former co-worker. Because I used to like Toby. I liked seeing photos of his kids and his dogs but now that I know the full details of Toby's political thoughts I think that he is a total neanderthal. And if it wasn't for Facebook Toby would not even be in my life and now he is in my life daily and I don't want him there anymore. 

So I have to take a break from Facebook. I can't fully break away because someone might post a cute photo of me that I need to see so I will glance at Facebook now and then. But that will be the extent. 

Impressions

I write a lot about my experiences in South Africa that I find interesting and unusual. This time I am going to turn the tables a bit. We are back in the U.S.A. for ten days. Here are a few observations.

We landed in New York City on a beautiful August day. Whenever I visit New York in the summer I need to remind myself of one word...January. Because as gorgeous as it is in the summer winter is a world of pain.  After we dropped off our bags and Mr. Deep went for a run (good for him because I was not feeling so energetic after flying for 17 hours) we went to Starbucks. Of all the things to do in New York the first thing on our agenda was visiting Starbucks. 

I love Starbucks. If you aren't a fan you might wonder what is so great about it. We do have lovely coffee and numerous comfy places to drink it in Joburg. We even have places where you can sit with a laptop for hours and no will bother you. But there is something about Starbucks that is special. Their coffee is fine but it's definitely more the atmosphere that attracts me. That and the free wifi which is particularly useful as my South African SIM card doesn't work in the U.S. Starbucks is the answer to any question you could have...have time to kill, go to Starbucks, need to meet someone, go to Starbucks, feeling hungry, go to Starbucks, feeling tired, go to Starbucks, feeling bored, go to Starbucks, need to do work, go to Starbucks. You get the idea.

While we are on the subject of coffee I need to ask a question of my American readers. What is the deal with cold brew? I am seeing signs for it everywhere in America and while maybe I have heard of it before I am not quite sure what exactly it is. I am going to assume it's coffee served cold that somehow was brewed without ever having been hot. Like Coors Light. Wow, there is a major marketing push going on now for cold brew. And now I am feeling like I must try it even though I don't even know what it is. That's good American marketing.

This one is hand crafted

While many would describe the humidity in the northeast over the past week as oppressive I am thoroughly enjoying it. As I write this post the humidity where I am is listed at 71%. and it feels like heaven. Joburg is so dry and it's a struggle for me to stay properly hydrated. Yes, I know people live in shacks without proper services like water and electricity but for a moment we need to talk about my struggle with proper hydration. Even though I try to drink a good amount of water each day in Joburg my hydration is always a losing game. I wake up every morning feeling like a pile of dust. I can feel my skin aging rapidly and I am pretty sure that in the near future I am going to look like Georgia O'Keeffe minus the nice paintings. But with humidity, I can drink a few glasses of water a day and feel normal. I am not constantly parched with a headache and I'm not applying endless amounts of lotion. My skin is naturally plumping back up to normal levels and I believe I am now aging backwards. 

I am also noticing (and missing) the politeness of people in South Africa. In Joburg when you walk into a store you are greeted with "good morning ma'am" or "morning morning how are you ma'am?" The correct response to being asked how you are is good and you? which is pronounced "good and youuuuuuu?" Then, once these pleasantries are out of the way, you can proceed with your question or your business. 

In America people might also say good morning or ask how you are when you walk into a store but there is no one correct response. You can reply that you are good without inquiring back as how the other person is. People might also say hello or good morning in America and they might even ask how you are but then they might walk away before you can reply. I'm not saying people are rude here, I'm just saying our American way of greeting each other is totally different and much less involved kind of abrupt and not very genuine. It's not all that genuine in South Africa either as you're expected to reply "good and youuuu" and not to start listing your problems when asked how you are but I still like pleasantries and the way people in South Africa are careful to greet each other before getting down to business. I'm not saying people in the U.S. are rude. They aren't. It's just a different greeting process.

There was one gentleman who was rude to Mr. Deep. As we walked in New York a homeless man asked Mr. Deep for money. Because both Mr. Deep and I are so used to concerning ourselves with having spare change on us at all times so we can tip the never ending car guards who we come in contact with, Mr. Deep replied to the man "sorry I don't have any change." This response was not quite right. A better response might have been to say nothing, or to reply sorry I don't have any money. But Mr. Deep replied that he didn't have any change and the man took exception. He started yelling at Mr. Deep and continued to yell at him as Mr. Deep walked down the block. He yelled, "you don't have any change? What the F*** am I supposed to do with change motherf*****? This is New York F****** City! I don't need change. I need at least $20."

Welcome to the U.S.A.