Vomit after the Vineyards

The big white Mercedes bus drove the windy roads of the South African Franschhoek wine valley as the mountains danced along the horizon and fall colored grape vines painted the valley. We were on our way to a "cultural" vineyard tour with 50 undergrads in tow. I love a good wine tasting, but this one had the makings of a shit-storm. We arrived at the Haut Espoir organic wine farm and the owner, Rob, educated us on the flora and fauna on the approach to the wine cellar. We, then, entered the warehouse where the wine was carefully blended and stored. Here, the students broke into groups of eight wherein they were given six bottles each to freely taste and their task was to develop a blend that would be worthy of the judges palette (I was one of the judges...lucky me!) The problem is that they were mixing whites with reds and by the end of the two-hour tasting who knows what else they were adding to their "master" blends. We tasted them all and I had to spit a few...terrible! During all of this, the students continued to "taste" (or shall we say gulp and chug). One student, who by the way had never drank before, decided to partake in the wine tasting which ended in a bus disaster. That beautiful posh Mercedes bus was soon to be laden with red wine vomit as many of us staff members held his head and wiped him down.

The Torture Chamber in & out of the Castle Grounds...

The Castle of Good Hope is proclaimed as the oldest building in South Africa, built by the Dutch East India Company as a replenishment station during the spice trade in the latter 17th century. During a much needed break from grading, we decided to check it out. The Castle is located in the city center and now houses the military. We experienced more of an adventure than expected, as a man came up to one of us during our 3 block walk to the Castle entrance and demanded money and then proceeded to threaten my friend's life with a knife. I had no idea what was going on because they were walking about 5 steps ahead of me, but when I saw my friend give the man money...I knew something was wrong. I picked up my pace and they began to slow down. Finally I caught up to them and forced my way between them, as the man peeled off in the other direction. Needless to say, as we walked into the Castle grounds this overwhelming sense of safety came over us, we took a break to reflect on everything while eating butternut soup at the cafe. It was all very disturbing, which made the torture chamber in the Castle all the more real and scary.

Amy Biehl Foundation

Let me paint a picture for you. Imagine a very large white Mercedes tour bus barreling through the poverty-stricken "Cape Flats" townships as many white college kid faces peer through the windows looking down at the daily activity in the community. Then, the tour bus gets stuck going around a hairpin turn in the heart of the township. By this time, the kids are running behind the bus and the community is emerging from their tin shack homes to see what is going on. I am absolutely horrified by this whole experience. Through all of my travels, I have become more critical of the power structures of tourism, especially poverty tourism. In this particular situation all I could think about was how the white power structure was overpowering the black community, much like apartheid...as the black community was looked at like animals in a zoo. But, the crazy part of this narrative is that we were the ones in the cage...a big Mercedes cage. I am still grappling with that experience and trying to make sense of it all.

After the disturbing drive through poverty, we stopped at two primary schools where the Amy Biehl Foundation coordinates after-school programs for the children in the township which was definitely the silver lining of the tour. Amy Biehl was an American Fulbright scholar working in the townships in 1992 (during apartheid) and attending the University of Western Cape as she advocated for voter rights and women participation in the process. During her time in Cape Town, she often visited the townships and on August 25, 1993 as she was dropping off a friend in the Guguletu township, an angry political mob pulled her from the car and killed her. The incredible side of this story is how her parents dealt with her death. Instead of being taken away by their anger with the fact that the people Amy was trying to help actually killed her, they found forgiveness as they participated in the truth and reconciliation process with the four murderers who killed their daughter. The four murderers were granted amnesty and released from prison in 1998 and one of Amy's killers is now an employee for the very foundation that Amy's parents founded. The foundation in Amy's name was founded in 1997 and serves many townships with after school programs. We visited two of the programs and were entertained by singing, dancing, and music. The story itself was enough to send shivers down my back.

"The mission of the Amy Biehl Foundation is to develop and empower youth in the impoverished townships in and around Cape Town through educational and cultural activities, whilst at the same time preventing youth violence, crime, drug abuse and HIV/AIDS through a holistic approach to community development in socio-economically disadvantaged communities."

South Africa Livin'!

I am living with two other teaching assistants who are also pursuing PhDs at UGA, Mallory (a PhD student in Recreation and Leisure Sports) and Chase (a Doctor--he just graduated--in History). Before coming to South Africa I had met Mallory a few times, but I had never met Chase before. So, here we are in an equivalent situation to MTV's "Real World": three roommates living in a two bedroom-two bathroom apartment on the beach (yes, see the photo from our balcony) in Cape Town. Sorry, no drama or scandalous moments to speak of...it has simply been fun getting to know each other and the conversation is never dull. We often find ourselves in deep discussions about capitalism, PhD hardships, socialism, oh, and grading (after all, we are here to...teach and grade.)

Cape Town

After 20 hours in the friendly skies, we finally made it to Cape Town. You may be asking why are you in South Africa again? Well, I am serving as a teaching assistant (again) for the Global LEAD 5-week study abroad program. We have 101 students from Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Wake Forest, and Auburn universities. So, everything we do includes large tour buses, attendance lists, and reservations. This is not my preferred mode of travel, as I think it perpetuates stereotypes about Americans, but I do believe the students learn a great deal during their time in South Africa. The first few days were crazy as we all dealt with jet-lag and very busy days. The top two photos are from the cultural dinner at Moyo where we were fed "modern sophisticated African" food and entertainment...complete with every student (and staff) receiving a face painting. We also took a city tour with highlighting the beautiful areas of Cape Town (see photo below...of Camps Bay). This is my second year here and I am struck (once again) by the beauty of this city where the ocean meets the mountains. Some of my favorite places in the world (Vancouver, Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, Bergen and Bodo in Norway, Doubtful Sound in New Zealand) are where the ocean/sea meets the mountains. I suppose it is the meeting of these two incredibly powerful forces of mother nature that gets my heart beating with love and admiration for the beauty. And, it beats again...alive with the spirit of AYOBA (African slang for joy and amazement).

A Crazy Month

Between being sick, having five of my favorite people visit Athens, helping Charlie move out of his four-bedroom house, and then turning around to pack, move, and clean my apartment we finally managed to move our stuff into the summer apartment (and the storage unit). I am simply drained. Tomorrow I leave for South Africa and I have no idea what I have packed for my 2-month adventure...should be interesting as I unpack. When I was packing up my apartment I had five piles of stuff: 1.) South Africa, 2.) Athens in July, 3.) stuff to drive back to Colorado, 4.) Finland, and 5.) recycle or pitch. Everything in my apartment went through the question process: do I need this in South Africa? Athens? Should this be temporarily stored in Colorado? Or do I not need this until Finland (primarily my winter clothes). I literally had four piles. The entire moving process consisted of so many logistics...I felt like I was losing my mind.

Pictures: the summer apartment, located in downtown Athens, where Charlie will live this summer and I will join him for the month of July. It is a big transition, as Charlie moved from his 4-bedroom house to a two-room apartment but, a good transition because apartments in Finland are much smaller than the American way of grandiose living. The apartment is fully furnished...which made moving in so much easier.

Heart breaking Blessing: death comes to Athens.

Such a sad day, today one of my beloved professors, Doug Toma, passed away after a long hard battle with melanoma. Yesterday when I went to drop something off at the Tomas apartment, I was surprised as the front door was left wide open. I walked in and saw three ladies sitting in the living room. My eyes searched the apartment for Linda...and saw that she was sitting on the porch with a friend. I introduced myself to Doug's mother, the hospice worker, and a family friend. They asked if I wanted to talk with Linda, I said no...she was expecting my visit and this bag of mail. Then, I glanced over to my left and saw a hospital bed and Doug resting peacefully on the bed (the visual was simply white and almost heavenly...I guess that is why I first missed it when I walked in). I was taken back by how ill Doug looked (ghostly white, sunken cheekbones, and tubes in his nose) and said to the ladies...It it really hard to see him like this. The hospice worker got up and walked over to Doug's bed and touched his hand and called his name...Doug, Doug, Leasa is here. His eyes were somewhat open, but his eyeballs rolled forward and I grabbed his hand. He mumbled something twice that I did not understand, the hospice worker said...I think he is asking how you are. I did not know what to say as tears quietly streamed down my face and simply said...I am very well. His eyeballs rolled to the back of his head as he fell deeper into an unconscious state. I could not get out of there quick enough...

In hindsight, I should have said:
Doug you are one of the reasons I have survived this hellish PhD experience because you always showed me unconditional support and offered me so many amazing and uplifting opportunities (TA position on Costa Rica spring break program, TA position for South Africa study abroad program, and the Graduate Fellowship with the Franklin Residential College). If it was not for you I would never have had the plethora of international experiences during my time at UGA. You opened up doors I never thought would be possible. You encouraged me to pursue my dream of conducting international dissertation research and even went so far as to devise a crazy scheme to send me to Australia (he loved conjuring up harebrained ideas and sometimes he even pursued them). You made me part of your extended family as I traveled with you, Linda, and Jack to Costa Rica, South Africa, and Norway. You trusted me with your son and shared with me your unwavering love for your family. You pushed boundaries and people that needed to be pushed. You were there for me in the darkest moments (even when you really never knew it) as you simply believed in me, my skills, and my abilities. I will forever be in debt to you and Linda for all of the love and kindness that you showed me the past three years. I feel so much gratitude for your presence in my life.

I end this entry with the wise (and jovial) words of Doug,

"I do not have a bucket-list. I live my bucket-list everyday!"

My Big Sis and Little Kid Bro

The Weimer kids are in town. Time for a lot of laughter, story-telling, and eating (as my little kid bro eats about six meals a day). Ever since Fred and friends (the parasites from Costa Rica) were killed off by tequila (hooray!) I have been feeling extremely happy and energy-filled which made for many spontaneous dance-offs and lots of activity. Not only did we attend one of the best events in Athens...Twilight, the bicycle criterium, but Charlie and I also participated in a garage sale to get rid of many of our materialistic items. So, yeah...it was a busy weekend especially considering that Charlie's house needed to be ready for the new owners in one week. Oh my...! But, there is no better way to de-stress than to spend time with my favorite brother and sister. We basically hung out and just caught up.

Happy Easter, American-Brazilian Style!

The Easter bunny not only brought colored eggs and candy, but also a cheeky bunch of Brazilians. My dear friend, Ali, from my European Masters program finally came to visit the good ol' U.S. of A. She said she would NEVER come to America...and look what happened. Although I want to believe she came to visit me, it turns out that she came to visit me and some of her college friends (from Brazil) that now live in Athens. Talk about a small world. So, we invited the Brazilians for a fun-filled Easter Extravaganza. Charlie grilled an amazing spread of colorful veggies and chicken and dinner ended with sparklers (see photo). Then, we had an all-out adult Easter egg hunt in Charlie's (soon-to-be-sold) house. We are still missing two eggs...apparently, I did a really good job of hiding the eggs. (The people who bought Charlie's house will not only be the new proud owners of the washer-dryer and bow-flex, but they also get a few Easter eggs filled with high-fructose corn-syrup). Suckers! Anyway back to the story. The Easter extravaganza fun did not end there, we moved to the kitchen for an egg-coloring fiasco. All in all, the weekend was a hit...even though Fred was still alive and kicking which again meant no alcohol consumption for me. Damn, Fred and friends have overstayed their welcome.

The Weimer Parental Units Come to Athens

My parents made the trek from Colorado to visit this place I call (temporary) home. I am sure their visit had nothing to do with the fact that my little kid brother is now living three hours away from me...sarcasm intended. Anyway, we had a nice visit, despite the fact that I was still on parasite meds and could not partake in margarita heaven at my father's favorite BYOB Athens eatery, Cali n Tito's. Unfortunately, my parents visit also coincided with the worse of my illness...loose bowels and an upchuck extravaganza. Ick! Luckily, my parents are very easy-going and so just hanging around the house was good enough for them. Oh, and the weekend trip to visit my brother was probably a welcomed break from the house of ill.

My father booked a 6 a.m. flight back to Colorado (oops, he thought he booked the 6 PM flight)...so, the last night we stayed in a hotel near the airport. Now when I say "near" I almost mean on the airplane runway. Seriously, the hotel (or shall I call it properly by its name--the Days Inn) shook every time an airplane would take off/land. Word to the wise...don't go cheap on airport hotels, otherwise you may find yourself sleeping on the runway too. Regardless of all of the crazy memories of this trip (that we will look back on and laugh about) it is always a gift to spend time with my parents. I am very grateful to have such flexible and loving parental units. You are the best!!

Parasites Partying in my Colon!

*Beware the following blog entry is a little rogue...but this is my life and I feel compelled to educate/share with you all on some of the joys/misery of international travel. (Or perhaps you have experienced something similar...as I know many of you have traveled to faraway places where the bugs in the water source do not settle in our Western bellies.) *

Fred (and friends) are back (remember him from my trip to Morocco?) This time around he is back with a vengeance and his identity has been revealed: Blastocystis! (Blastocystis hominis a.k.a. B. hominis are anaerobic protozoan parasites frequently found in the human gastrointestinal tract.) Yep, after four trips to the health clinic, stool samples, and blood work, my Doc officially confirmed that these cheeky little bastards are dancing the night away in my colon. No wonder I have been spending a lot of time on the toilet, listening to a thunderstorm in my intestines, and at times doubled over by pain. The Doc thinks they must have hitched a ride in my colon when I was in Costa Rica three weeks ago...damn illegal immi-cites. According to the lab report I have 'moderate' levels of these little bandits taking shots of my poo and treating my colon as if it was a after-hours night club. I had to wait one day to receive the meds, as this medicine is so expensive and rarely prescribed that pharmacies do not have it in stock, it was special ordered. Now I will begin treatment and hope that I am one of the lucky few when treatment (antibiotics) actually works to ward off these aggressive dudes. If treatment does not work my doctor advises me that I will "have to ride it out". I am feeling hopeful!

Delicious Craziness!

Charlie and I are in the midst of delicious craziness...he is selling his house, we are simplifying all of our materialistic crap (wanna buy a vacuum cleaner, printer, or lamp?), beginning to plan the logistics of moving out of our places, driving the material items (that we are wildly attached to) back to Ohio & Colorado, and packing up for Finland. Not to mention all of the everyday things to maintain...like taxes, work, dissertation prep, and time for yoga. WOW...it is all kind of overwhelming, but just the way I love to live life. Anyway, this is probably much more info than you care to know about. But, this is what life entails when you plan to move to a different country.

There are so many moving parts when two people transition their life to a different country (yes, Charlie will be accompanying me on this BIG adventure...which is very awesome!) It seems like everyday we receive news that is exciting and helpful to the process of taking one step forward. For instance, after nine months of Charlie's house being on the market...it finally sold yesterday. Now all of the other pieces need to fall into place (appraisal, etc. ). The housing market in Athens is seriously in the toilet, so this is truly a blessing and a huge relief for him/us . Then, there are other things I must do in order to receive the Fulbright grant such as get a physical for medical clearance and decide on our primary location of residence in Finland (which we do not know yet because it is dependent upon where Charlie lands a job). Yes, add to the list...a job in Finland for Charlie. On top of this, there are summer logistics to figure out...where will we live for the summer (Charlie moves out of his house the first week of May), I will be in South Africa working for May/June, but will I have a summer job for the month of July (still working on this), and finally when will we drive our stuff to Colorado and Ohio? Yes, a little overwhelming, but I have done this before and it is always incredible how it all comes together in the end.

Good vibes: in the midst of all of the superawesomesauce craziness it is springtime in Georgia (see photos), sunny and 70-80 degrees (21-26c) with blooms everywhere. My favorite season to live in Athens!

Gratitude: Fulbright News & More!

The night we arrived home from Costa Rica (Monday p.m.) a manila envelope greeted me in my mailbox which, which by the way was very thin (thin enough to be a rejection letter). This thin letter held the key to my future, as sappy as that sounds...it's true. I waited a few minutes before the letter was screaming, "OPEN ME!" Good or bad at least I will no longer be in limbo, just waiting. Despite it's thinness, it was thick with goodness, "You have been selected!" Woohoo. So, instead of screaming from the mountaintop (or shall I say the hills of Athens) I did a little celebratory dance with Charlie and then simply sat in the news for a few days. I guess I needed my own time and space to think through what this meant in relation to my life in Athens, with Charlie, and my dissertation. Plus, we were just coming off an amazing high in Costa Rica and I just needed to breathe and take it all in. My mom called Tuesday and we talked a lot about Costa Rica, but Fulbright was never mentioned. The news was still settling in. Over the years I have noticed that there is magic in being reflective rather than reactive (yoga has certainly helped me with this). I slowly began to tell people, my mom and dad were the first to know...albeit, six hours after I got off the phone with my mother on Tuesday.

Four days (Friday) after ripping open the skinny manila envelope I received more news that I was also selected for a Scandinavian-American Fellowship grant. Woohoo! After (finally) telling my major professor in person, I officially let the cat out of the bag.

All of this news is amazing and I am feeling super grateful right now. Now, comes the fun part...figuring out all of the moving parts. But, one thing is for sure I will be in Finland August 2011 to May 2012.

An Oversold Flight = More Paradise!

We arrived at the open-air Liberia airport three hours before our 1 p.m. take-off. With 21 passports in hand I immediately got in the short line (which would soon grow to be the LONG line) to pay the departure tax for our group ($26/per person). After filling out the customs forms we all made our way to the line for the Delta check-in. Amidst the sounds of Spanish and English language and gusty wind, an announcement was made over the PA system, "Delta Flight to Atlanta is oversold and we are now asking for volunteers to give up their seats in exchange for a travel voucher and hotel stay." (Not verbatim...but something like that.) Charlie and I looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking, "Heck yeah!" When we arrived at the check-in desk a smiley dude asked us, "Are you interested in volunteering your seat for a $600 travel voucher?" Say no more! We are your peeps! He then went on to tell us about the five-star all-inclusive beach resort that we would be staying in for FREE. At this point, I am loving Delta. We still have to proceed through customs, check bags, and wait in the gate area, just in case they do not need our seats. When we arrive at the gate we find out that one of our students was not assigned a seat, so we talk to the gate agents and let them know that one of our seats should be given to our student. Ah, we have done a good deed...we have sacrificed our seats for our student (and the trumpets sound). They call our names about 25 minutes before the flight takes off and confirms that we will not be going home today (tear). We say goodbye to the Motley crew of students and load up in a taxi headed back to the beach.

The Hilton Papagayo all-inclusive beach resort nestled on the coastline of the Pacific Ocean is ridiculous! Seriously. Now, this is where Ugly Americanism and ethnocentrism rears its head. The default language is English (in a Spanish speaking country). The name of the game is pure gluttony (all you can eat and drink). The beach is smaller than the length of a football field (forget going for a long walk on the beach). There are no sidewalks only shuttle buses that move you from the pool to your room to the restaurant of choice (no exercise). There are six restaurants, one of which is a buffet open 24 hours/day. With all of this luxury and convenience you would think that we were back in in the U.S. Now, even with all of our critiques (and lengthy conversations) about this sad sort of development in a culturally-rich country lush with biodiversity, we fully enjoyed our 19-hour stay at the resort (hypocrisy at its finest). It was a great way to un-wind and relax from a busy week of adventure and prepare ourselves for reality. But, I gotta tell you, if we would have stayed there longer than one day I would have gone a little crazy. There was no sign of the Costa Rican culture except for gallo pinto (rice and beans) in the breakfast buffet and this is called international travel? I guess the biggest thing that we grappled with is the dichotomous nature of this luxurious and non-cultural sort of vacation versus the type of vacation/experience where you are immersed in the culture and speaking the language. I prefer the latter (shocker, I know!)