Hi everyone,
If you're around these places at these times, we'd love to see you! Here's our travel itinerary for the next few months:
Boston: Now-October 12
Myrtle Beach: October 12-15
Boston: October 16-October 31
Sedona, Arizona: November 1 -- November 6
Atlanta, Georgia: November 7
Milan, Italy: November 8- 17
Genoa, Italy: briefly, unless you'll be there.
Barcelona, Spain: November 19th
Cadiz, Spain: November 21st
Santa Cruz, Canary Islands: November 23rd
Dakar, Senegal: November 26th
Walvis Bay, Namibia: December 4th
Then Cape Town, for the indefinite future. Particularly in Dakar and Walvis Bay (but definitely in the other places, also!), we'd love to see friends and friends of friends. This is all new for us.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Grace for the Aspiring No Waste Hippy, and Enjoying Boston
A while ago I wrote about grace for the aspiring hippy parent and I've recently been experiencing grace for the aspiring no-waste hippy. I write as someone who is generally in a hurry and goal-driven, I've tended to favour quantity of activity over quality.
Sometimes I've interpreted slowing down as focusing exclusively on key parts of my life (Noah, Eug, some bits of my work), and cutting everything else (fun encounters with friends, other commitments) out. But I realized that just played into my natural tendency to be more introverted and want to really get stuff done. It feels more valuable to slow down on things like making sure the budget is perfect, cleaning and even certain kinds of cooking (the very time-consuming kind), to make more space for hanging out.
Sometimes I've interpreted slowing down as focusing exclusively on key parts of my life (Noah, Eug, some bits of my work), and cutting everything else (fun encounters with friends, other commitments) out. But I realized that just played into my natural tendency to be more introverted and want to really get stuff done. It feels more valuable to slow down on things like making sure the budget is perfect, cleaning and even certain kinds of cooking (the very time-consuming kind), to make more space for hanging out.
Together with this sense of slowing down, I've again been experiencing a measure of grace about throwing things away. Our worm bin is no longer (the worms died this winter) and I decided not to start a new one, in what felt like the short space of time between living here in Boston and moving to Cape Town. In food scraps, it's seems like a much longer space of time.
I'd been concerned about throwing things away because I had a sense of my worth or authenticity being measured by how much I "walk the talk". And I put a lot of weight on authenticity. But my worth (and yours, obviously), is much more solid and stable-- it just is. Whether I'm authentic or not, and whether I'm successful or not.
My experience of grace is all tied up with my faith, which is not something I want to push on you because I haven't really yet figured out how to talk about it well. But Grace has given me some space to try things without worrying about really arriving.
My experience of grace is all tied up with my faith, which is not something I want to push on you because I haven't really yet figured out how to talk about it well. But Grace has given me some space to try things without worrying about really arriving.
Now, when it comes to waste or no-waste, I've been encouraged by the idea that my task is much bigger than just throwing or not throwing over the immediate two month period. My task is to enthusiastically do stuff that builds a lifetime of (hopefully enjoyable) habits. All of the things I try out I have a kind of nerdy enthusiasm for that usually makes me giddy with excitement. Did I tell you how amazing it is to wash your face with nutmeg?
One of my favourite songs is Sawa Sawa by Eric Wainaina, a Berklee grad and a Kenyan artist:
The song refers to Moses reaching his staff across the sea, and it parting before him. He stretched as far as he could, and then the miraculous took over. May that be true.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Today I'm Becoming a U.S. Citizen
I'm becoming a U.S. citizen just a few weeks before we begin to travel-- just enough time to get the blue passport.
I remain South African as I get U.S. citizenship; there's a tinge of sadness and resignation before the practical part of me takes over. Practical not only for the perks of the passport but because I would be essentially unable to return to the U.S.-- to Eugene's family-- if I gave up my permanent residency without first getting citizenship. I see issues of passports and borders as a kind of international apartheid, our governments are insisting that our citizens are more important than others, because they don't vote or pay taxes alongside us. While I have no practical solution to offer, I just wanted to name the problem.
The shape of international borders are shaping South African identity, too. Many South Africans-- particularly white South Africans-- of my generation have left South Africa for the U.K., Australia, and New Zealand. We're displaced, because we're not sure how to value our South African identity, because job opportunities are limited, or crime is a concern, educational opportunities come up overseas, we're sick of South African bureaucracy, or it is just really interesting to explore the world.
Twelve years ago, our high-school in Wales would heatedly discuss the U.S: It was too big, too self-centered, too consumerist, and seemed to believe that Might Makes Right. Yet many of us also came over to the U.S. after high school because it also has arguably the best tertiary institutions in the world. As I get the privileges of being a U.S. citizen, I want to engage criticism as a citizen, not just as an observer.
I've been here about nine years, all spent in the Boston area. And I've been hugely blessed. I have gone from a teenager to a wife and mom [and professional?]. But I didn't know to weigh my education against the value of fundamentally changing my identity. I am, and have been for a while, in a grey-zone. I think I'm super South Africa, yet people at home usually ask where I'm from. As do Bostonians.
Noah is the first person in 4 generations in our family to be born in the U.S.. Eug's mom is from Korea, and received U.S. citizenship in Hawaii after marrying Eug's dad. Eugene, Eug's dad, and grandfather were "Americans" born and raised in Korea. I find it remarkable that, after a few years of being married to a U.S. citizen-- who lived the first eighteen years of his life outside the U.S.-- I am allowed to "Be American". I can actually participate in civil society [and be heard?] despite being a vocal critic, not paying much tax, and not living a very typically American life.
As I think back on the biggest things that have been great about my time in the U.S., I realize they're not location-specific-- they are things I have experienced in many places I have been, and hopefully will experience in many places I have not yet seen. Caring people, ideas, and a spirit of innovation. Here's to citizenship!
I remain South African as I get U.S. citizenship; there's a tinge of sadness and resignation before the practical part of me takes over. Practical not only for the perks of the passport but because I would be essentially unable to return to the U.S.-- to Eugene's family-- if I gave up my permanent residency without first getting citizenship. I see issues of passports and borders as a kind of international apartheid, our governments are insisting that our citizens are more important than others, because they don't vote or pay taxes alongside us. While I have no practical solution to offer, I just wanted to name the problem.
The shape of international borders are shaping South African identity, too. Many South Africans-- particularly white South Africans-- of my generation have left South Africa for the U.K., Australia, and New Zealand. We're displaced, because we're not sure how to value our South African identity, because job opportunities are limited, or crime is a concern, educational opportunities come up overseas, we're sick of South African bureaucracy, or it is just really interesting to explore the world.
Twelve years ago, our high-school in Wales would heatedly discuss the U.S: It was too big, too self-centered, too consumerist, and seemed to believe that Might Makes Right. Yet many of us also came over to the U.S. after high school because it also has arguably the best tertiary institutions in the world. As I get the privileges of being a U.S. citizen, I want to engage criticism as a citizen, not just as an observer.
I've been here about nine years, all spent in the Boston area. And I've been hugely blessed. I have gone from a teenager to a wife and mom [and professional?]. But I didn't know to weigh my education against the value of fundamentally changing my identity. I am, and have been for a while, in a grey-zone. I think I'm super South Africa, yet people at home usually ask where I'm from. As do Bostonians.
Noah is the first person in 4 generations in our family to be born in the U.S.. Eug's mom is from Korea, and received U.S. citizenship in Hawaii after marrying Eug's dad. Eugene, Eug's dad, and grandfather were "Americans" born and raised in Korea. I find it remarkable that, after a few years of being married to a U.S. citizen-- who lived the first eighteen years of his life outside the U.S.-- I am allowed to "Be American". I can actually participate in civil society [and be heard?] despite being a vocal critic, not paying much tax, and not living a very typically American life.
As I think back on the biggest things that have been great about my time in the U.S., I realize they're not location-specific-- they are things I have experienced in many places I have been, and hopefully will experience in many places I have not yet seen. Caring people, ideas, and a spirit of innovation. Here's to citizenship!
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