I would at this point like to exert my prerogative as a female and totally contradict my myself. Please humour me as I relay two pleasant, sappy anecdotes from the past week...In the profound words of Walgreen's commercial writers, "There are some things money can't buy." There are some moments that are so spontaneously wonderful that they could seemingly exist only in a "land called perfect."
Last Saturday my housemates and I decided to ride the train to Muizenberg beach. Now there is something especially romantic about the idea of training to the beach in itself, but this day was especially perfect. The temperature was in the upper 70s, the breeze was blowing, the sun was shining, and our spirits were high. Suddenly, in mid-journey, we heard music coming from one end of our car. Just as we realized that a fellow passenger strumming his banjo was the source of this background tunage, we heard the sounds of an accompanying jazz ensemble join the spontaneous chorus. Now from where said jazz musicians appeared was a mystery, but who has time for irrelevant questions when you're tappin' your toe to the beat of a tambourine? After several miles of melodious travel, we hopped off our train car and into the sand with the echoes of these Cape Townian troubadours trailing in the distance. A perfect beginning to a perfect day.
The second spontaneously wonderful moment occurred yesterday when my housemate Dana and I were on our way to our first day of UCT classes. Our first class, Modernism, started at 8:00AM sharp, and although everything else in Cape Town runs on African time, apparently class schedules do not. Now, at OBU if I had an 8:00 I could easily roll out of bed at 7:40, throw on a hat (to cover unshowered hair), brush my teeth (maybe?), leave my dorm at 7:55 and be comfortably in my seat by class time. However, in Cape Town getting to class means walking 20+ minutes to lower campus, catching a jammie bus to upper campus, and then missioning to your class from there. Naturally, as is generally the case for those who are unfortunate enough to travel with me, we got on our way a little too late. In addition to this bump in the road, there was a intense queue (oh how I love that word) for the jammie. So at around 8:05 we were still jammie-ing, and I was super stressin'. Meanwhile, as we were embarking on our first of many UCT days to come, Bob Marley was celebrating his 65th birthday (well in Spirit, anyway). And at 8:05 as my blood pressure was on the rise, the words of Ras-Bob's prophetic "Three Little Birds" strolled their way over the radio into all of our jammie-ing hearts with "Don't worry about a thing...cuz every little thing's gonna be alright." Now Bob may have needed cannabis to fully live out this worldview but his lyrics were enough for me. In fact, the entire jammie of previously stressed-out first years and I took these words to heart, and though the minutes of our tardiness were ticking ticking away, we were totally chill as we bobbed our heads to these Jammie Jam Jams. Singin' "don't worry about a thing"...Thanks, Bob. You're a real pal.
Last Saturday my housemates and I decided to ride the train to Muizenberg beach. Now there is something especially romantic about the idea of training to the beach in itself, but this day was especially perfect. The temperature was in the upper 70s, the breeze was blowing, the sun was shining, and our spirits were high. Suddenly, in mid-journey, we heard music coming from one end of our car. Just as we realized that a fellow passenger strumming his banjo was the source of this background tunage, we heard the sounds of an accompanying jazz ensemble join the spontaneous chorus. Now from where said jazz musicians appeared was a mystery, but who has time for irrelevant questions when you're tappin' your toe to the beat of a tambourine? After several miles of melodious travel, we hopped off our train car and into the sand with the echoes of these Cape Townian troubadours trailing in the distance. A perfect beginning to a perfect day.
The second spontaneously wonderful moment occurred yesterday when my housemate Dana and I were on our way to our first day of UCT classes. Our first class, Modernism, started at 8:00AM sharp, and although everything else in Cape Town runs on African time, apparently class schedules do not. Now, at OBU if I had an 8:00 I could easily roll out of bed at 7:40, throw on a hat (to cover unshowered hair), brush my teeth (maybe?), leave my dorm at 7:55 and be comfortably in my seat by class time. However, in Cape Town getting to class means walking 20+ minutes to lower campus, catching a jammie bus to upper campus, and then missioning to your class from there. Naturally, as is generally the case for those who are unfortunate enough to travel with me, we got on our way a little too late. In addition to this bump in the road, there was a intense queue (oh how I love that word) for the jammie. So at around 8:05 we were still jammie-ing, and I was super stressin'. Meanwhile, as we were embarking on our first of many UCT days to come, Bob Marley was celebrating his 65th birthday (well in Spirit, anyway). And at 8:05 as my blood pressure was on the rise, the words of Ras-Bob's prophetic "Three Little Birds" strolled their way over the radio into all of our jammie-ing hearts with "Don't worry about a thing...cuz every little thing's gonna be alright." Now Bob may have needed cannabis to fully live out this worldview but his lyrics were enough for me. In fact, the entire jammie of previously stressed-out first years and I took these words to heart, and though the minutes of our tardiness were ticking ticking away, we were totally chill as we bobbed our heads to these Jammie Jam Jams. Singin' "don't worry about a thing"...Thanks, Bob. You're a real pal.
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