The Long Road Home

NEW YORK-- Apparently, I slept so peacefully, no one wanted to wake me up Saturday morning.

Petrified of missing my flight back to the States waking up was never going to be an issue. Being coherent enough to not mess up my girlfriend’s meticulous planning was.

Half asleep, I see an unclear but a woman of caramel complexion in a towel not too much darker than her rummaging for clothes. I looked at my watch, found my glasses and rubbed my eyes before I realized it was Lauren and she was preparing for church.

Lauren suggested I stay at her place and pack my things while they attended church so we could head to the airport. Just as I thought about doing just that, I remembered the “special circumstances” that led to a wild few nights and included going to church on a Saturday morning one of my many only in Africa rules.

As Lauren reminded me that her church was “conservative” when it came to attire, I pulled on some dress slacks, picked out a blue dress shirt and found my blue and red tie. Her surprise was evident, but something one could tell was a pleasant occurrence.

Having never attended a Seventh Day Advantest church, I relished the opportunity to see and experience something new. Each day on my trip was marked by emotional or educational growth. It was fitting it concluded with some spiritual nourishment — even if it was winter in South Africa.

Lauren took me to the Oliver R. Tambo Airport for my mid-afternoon flight. In route we joked about the French and Italians who left South Africa before I did. Apparently the running joke being sent to inboxes across the country was “In 2006 France and Italy met in the World Cup final. In 2010 they met at the O.R. Tambo airport after early elimination.”

I bought a handful of vuvuzelas for my nieces, my brothers and sister and a book for my 20+ hour flight. Lauren and I took one final picture, gave each other a grand hug and I thanked her one final time for all her hospitality.

At 1:57 p.m. I possessed a broad smile of completion. At that moment, the clerk had taken my baggage claim form and I walked down the runway to complete my two weeks in South Africa.

That sunny Saturday afternoon was the antithesis of the dark and ominous skies that met me in Durban 16 days prior. The stark difference in the weather illuminated the difference in my confidence about my grand adventure. It was the perfect setting to say goodbye to a beautiful place that will forever be part of me.

Nelson Mandela is the person who inspired me to see his country with his autobiography. It’s only fitting that I close my blog with a quote from the Nobel Peace Prize winner an icon of the unified and dignified South Africa.

“I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.”