Beautiful People and a Braai.

I love living in the Eastern Cape. Its randomness and the smiles on peoples’ faces. Its wildflowers and its cows grazing next to the road. And the stars on its night sky and the full moon lightening the fields in front of a village palace. I love its stories about hit donkeys and angry ancestors. I even started to love its chaos. But what struck me most are its people. I love our RAs and their spirit. I love to hear them sing songs about Mahindras and songs about being incomplete every time someone’s leaving. I love their laughs and sometimes even their stubbornness, but mostly their jokes and seeing their smiles not only on their lips but also in their eyes. I love their warmth and how welcoming they were. I will miss all this. I think it changed me for the better. Or at least I hope so.

If I could carry just a fraction of their warmth in my heart when I go, I’d feel blessed forever.

A night full of laughter and tons of grilled meat. A cook looking irritated at my veggie patties. A goodbye and lots of booze. An encounter with the security guards I wished I could have avoided, but a lovely girl who saved me by smuggling Amarula in like a badass. The most beautiful songs in the world sung by the most beautiful voices. A lot of great dancing and some failed attempts (by me, of course). Tough negotiations about how many cows I’m worth and a two-hour drive in the back of a Mahindra I thought would never end. But oh, the beautiful night sky. And the moon. And the cold. But with so much warmth in your heart*, you don’t care about the cold anymore.

*I leave it to my readers to speculate on the source of this warmth. It might have been alcohol-related. But it might as well have sprung from the midst of some singing and dancing with those awfully lovely and bright Xhosa-souls.