Anticipation

I liked this picture of all of us after Chris' concert. It was really great to see him after a while as well as to watch him onstage doing what he loves. It's always nice to see your friends and their passions, though it is strange to ask for a signed headshot of a friend...If I figure out how to post a video, I'll post some from the concert. Pictured here are (left-right): my sister's best friend, Chris, me, Carl, Katie. Aren't we cute? And isn't my sister a babe? Sick. When did that happen?!

This week was much easier than last as far as work is concerned. I enjoyed the first week of class at BSC, and though it was odd not to be starting class, too, it was strangely comforting to be in my office.

Ashley has informed me that she sent my application Friday via EBSCO's DHL service. So, now all we do is wait. I am certainly nervous about it, thus the title of this post. See, though I have the money for the scholarship, there is no requirement that the school accept me. It would be strange for them not to, granted, but still, it makes me nervous. So I wait. Call and distract me, would you? It will likely be a month or so until I find anything out. Don't worry, I'll let you know.

The highlight of my week was, undoubtedly, lunch on Friday with my mentor who has just recovered from ovarian cancer. Terry was bubbly and healthy-looking, and just a delight. We talked school and Africa and politics and boys and everything. It was so nice to see her after more than 6 months and not being sure whether or not I would see her again. While graduation and all its festivities were certainly not the same without her, getting to have lunch with a totally healthy and happy Terry was a much greater gift.

So I promised Nelson wisdom, and here it is. I'm almost to the first set of pictures in the book! Yay! I have a serious personal rule prohibiting me from viewing the pictures until I read that far in the book. Anyway, here goes. I particularly appreciated these quotes...

Once I had passed Humansdorp, the forests became denser and for the first time in my life I saw wild elephants and baboons. A large baboon crossed the road in front of me and I stopped the car. He stood and stared at me as intently as if he were a Special Branch detective. It was ironic that I, an African, was seeing the Africa of storybooks and legend for the first time. Such a beautiful land, I thought, and all of it out of reach, owned by whites and untouchable for a black man. I could no more choose to live in such beauty than run for Parliament.

This one is especially moving when read in close succession with the next...

While I was walking in the city one day, I noticed a white woman in the gutter gnawing on some fish bones.[...]I knew of course that there were poor whites, whites who were every bit as poor as Africans, but one rarely saw them. I was used to seeing black beggars on the street, and it startled me to see a white one. While I normally did not give to African beggars, I felt the urge to give this woman money. In that moment I realized the tricks that apartheid plays on one, for the everyday travails that afflict Africans are accepted as a matter of course, while my heart immediately went out to this bedraggled woman. In South Africa, to be poor and black was normal, to be poor and white was a tragedy.

The similarity of these passages and my own experience in Birmingham is almost uncomfortable to me. To drive past a black man walking down 8th Ave. N. while on my way to the college is absolutely normal. While I might lock my doors, I would otherwise have no reaction. To see a white man walking down the road would be almost unheard of. In the South, to be poor and black is entirely natural. And while this is not state-mandated status, it certainly plays tricks on the mind, exactly as Mandela describes.

Thanks for reading this novel. More Mandela to follow.