Taxi Cab Epiphany

There I was, sitting in a 16-passenger minibus taxi filled to the brim with 18 adults (including the driver), 3 small children, 4 bags the size of mini-refrigerators, and a smattering of small grocery and handbags. It was the fourth hour of our three-hour taxi drive (yes, you read that correctly) and we were turning into a city which was 1.5 hours out of the way of our intended destination. No one expected us to go to this city. No one knew why we were there.

That’s when it hit me: It will all be okay.

It will be okay.

No need to get upset. The detour had already been taken. There was nothing that could be done nor any explanation that would change that fact.

I may not get home when I expected. We would have to postpone some chores and errands. Things would need to be done a bit differently and in a different order, but isn’t that like life? We will find ourselves on unexpected roads. We will need to adjust and take the obstacles in stride. And it will all be okay. There will be headaches and frustration; but there will also be so much beauty…

Outside of the taxi window, I could see small mountains diving straight into a clear, blue lake. The street vendors were selling their goods. Children were chasing each other and laughing. This is a beautiful country and we would have missed it had we taken the shorter road.

So…sit back, turn on some tunes, let go of what you thought your life would look like, and enjoy the view…

Beautiful, yes?

An American at a “Zulu-ized” Western Wedding

The weekend after the school year ended, Michelle and I had the privilege of attending a wedding.  I felt honored to be there, as I have only known the person getting married for about three months.  But that may only be my perspective seeing as how the person getting married was an educator from my school and everyone from school was invited.  It was the respectful thing to do.  Attending the wedding was as much a cultural experience as it was a celebration of the union of two people.

 

A Context:

Taking a step back: Christianity has been in South Africa ever since the arrival of the first Europeans back in the 1600’s.  With Christianity came Western ways of thinking.  In the case of a wedding, that meant the involvement of a pastor, vows, and rings.  Add the advent of TV, Westernization of traditional Zulu wedding accelerated significantly.  There were also some political underpinnings elevating the significance of a Christian/Western wedding.  According to the old, Apartheid government, weddings weren’t official unless they followed this precedence; thus, traditional Zulu weddings weren’t officially recognized during that time. 

Traditionally, in the Zulu culture, when two people get married, the groom’s family presents the bride’s family with something called a lobola.  Lobola is a gift to the family.  Historically, when a woman married, she went to live with the groom and his extended family.  This meant that someone who could complete work around the home in the bride’s family no longer lived with the family and thus could not provide her services.  As a way of offering something in return for the woman’s loss of services, the groom’s family paid lobola.  In the Zulu culture, that meant izinkomo (translated: cows) because they were of great value.  Lobola is still gifted today and cows are still of great value; however, the groom’s family usually gives a gift of cash.

After lobola is given to the bride’s family, the bride’s family visits the groom’s family to perform some songs and dances and present them with presents to show their gratitude.  Historically, presents would include sleeping mats and blankets.  In both families, the bride and groom would pray to their ancestors and ask for their blessing.  After these ceremonies were completed, there would be a grand feast with cow and goat meat.

Keep in mind, historically, the couple’s villages were close together or the couple was from within the same village.  Further, time is more fluid in the Zulu culture than it is in a Western/American culture.

The Wedding:

Getting back to the topic first mentioned above: Michelle and I were invited to a wedding.  Before the ceremony started, the DJ played music to keep people entertained.  What was icing on the wedding cake (sorry, I couldn’t help myself) were the people that started dancing.  Because it was a sunny day, white parasols were provided.  The people held them as they danced, which made the scene look as if puffy clouds were floating by.  

Pre-Ceremony Dancing

The ceremony opened with a processional of the wedding party, including flower girls, page boys, bridesmaids, groomsmen, the groom, and finally the bride.  Following the processional, the ceremony emcee welcomed everyone (yes, there was an emcee).  The overseeing pastor led the ceremony with various readings of the Bible and a sermon.  The bride and groom then exchanged vows, rings, and a kiss.  Before the ceremony closed, a second pastor got up and spoke, offering his own selected readings and sermon. 

The Lovely Bride and Groom

After the ceremony ended, the wedding party exited and the guests were escorted to a hall.  After the guests were seated, the wedding party entered with a line dance, much to the amusement of the wedding party as well as the guests.  Various family members, friends, and coworkers gave speeches and well wishes.  Some performed songs as part of their speech.  My principal was one of the speakers.  When she went up to the stage, she had the educators and I join her in singing a song.  After the speeches were made, the bride tossed her bouquet, the cake was cut, and food was served.

Here’s a brief rundown of the timeline:

Scheduled Timeline	Actual Timeline
9:30am – The time we’re supposed to get picked up	10:00am – The time we actually got picked up
10:00am – The time the Western wedding was supposed to start	1:00pm – The time the wedding actually started
11:00am – The time lunch was supposed to be served	5:00pm – The wedding ceremony was still taking place, but we were encouraged to eat
1:00pm – The time the Zulu wedding was supposed to start	6:00pm – The wedding ceremony just ended; we’re taken home
5:00pm – The time the feast was supposed to start	1:00am (the next day) – The Zulu wedding ended

Cultural Observations:

Now, I know for typical US-Americans, they would have felt at least a little antsy about the time.  In full disclosure, although I have lived in South Africa for five months and know about the Zulu’s concept of time, I felt antsy.  I outline the timeline as one example to highlight one of many cultural differences between Zulus and Americans. 

Another observation was the influence of Western symbols of status on the Zulu culture.  Noting the décor, the details were intricate and decadent.  The fact that there were parasols showed that the bride and groom’s families were willing to pay for them.  The guests also provided a glimpse into the influence by the gifts they brought.  For example, the educators and I gifted some appliances for their kitchen.  I learned from talking with the educators that providing gifts was something new.  Historically, it was common for guests to bring food of some sort to the wedding, but these kinds of gifts were recent additions to the Zulu tradition.

The lengths of the speeches given during the ceremony were of particular note.  In Zulu culture, it’s common for the patriarchs of the family to say a few words during a wedding.  Taking this cultural practice and putting it in a Western context, the result was a wedding that took about six hours.  When I asked some of the guests at the wedding if it was normal for a wedding to last that long, they said no.  But because of the incorporation of a Western wedding, the length has increased. 

It is common for Zulus to complete both wedding ceremonies – Zulu and Christian/Western – if they themselves identify as Christian.  It shows respect to their family and ancestors, the former, as well as respect to their faith, the latter.  In the present case, the couple completed both ceremonies.  Unfortunately, our ride wanted to leave after eating, so Michelle and I weren’t able to able to attend the Zulu portion of the wedding.  I was actually hoping to attend that part because I would have seen something that was more traditionally (and more genuinely) Zulu. 

Reflecting on my experience attending the wedding, I hope that I didn’t place any specific value or worth on what transpired, but, instead, provided a view into the events that transpired.  Even as I write this, I don’t believe it’s possible to keep from being at least a little skewed in my thinking because I know I have my own personal bias and cultural values.  What I can say for sure is that the ceremony was beautiful, the bride and groom couldn’t have looked happier than when they kissed as wife and husband, and the guests seemed to be have a good time (even if they weren’t thrilled about how long things took). 

A Rollercoaster of Emotions: Getting to IST

IST. Defined: In-Service Training; occurs approximately three months after arriving at one’s permanent site. Example: my cohort arrived at our permanent sites in September, so our IST happened at the end of November through the beginning of December.

Getting to IST is a big deal in the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). It’s a big deal because the first few months at permanent site can be one of the hardest times during a PCV’s service. Sure, there is lots of excitement because of finally getting to the place where one is going to serve the community, meeting the people who are going to be served, and seeing where one is going to spend the rest of her/his service. With the excitement comes a lot of hardship as well: isolation, loneliness, loss, and feeling overwhelmed.

To make this post more personal: I have felt all of the things mentioned above and more. Initially arriving to my permanent site, I was excited to be here. I had an image of what it looked like to serve as a PCV, and seeing my new home fit the image almost perfectly. I was in a remote part of the country, surrounded by people who were very curious about my presence, grappling with a new language, and volunteering in a school. Having moved a few times while I lived in the US, I was accustomed to a feeling of “newness” that comes during the first few months. However, there were unique factors influencing my integration. I understood conceptually what these news factors would mean for me, but to live them has been a whole other experience.

For example, one factor was the constant attention I received. Living in a remote part of South Africa meant that people weren’t used to seeing a white guy walking around their village. Often, I would hear people call out to me to get my attention; often, using a slang term that is derogatory (I don’t believe there was any malicious intent, but I do believe there was ignorance with the use of the word). What was even more surprising for people was my ability to speak isiZulu. Keeping in mind that my language ability isn’t all that strong, but I do know greetings and introductions and I can make basic conversation. I learned that by introducing myself I heard the slang term less often.

Another example, and one that conflicts with the example above, is my shopping town. My shopping town lies on a road that is travelled frequently by passing tourists. Because of the tourists, there are a few businesses in town that cater to them. It’s a weird contrast because there are large sections of the town and surrounding villages that live under conditions of poverty. And then there are these shops that contain items that cost the same amount as a week’s worth of groceries for two people (at least based on what Michelle and I eat). When I’m in town, I receive little attention, which is great in some respect, but it’s also alarming when I do because it’s often negative. Usually it’s someone asking me to give them money. This experience isn’t uncommon for PCVs. What I find difficult about it is that people in town think I’m a tourist passing through. They don’t see me as someone who lives there. This experience makes me feel separated from the community; that I don’t belong.

I haven’t only felt negatively since arriving to my permanent site. If anything, I feel like I have been on a rollercoaster of emotions because I have also felt happy, content, grateful, and humble. I’m happy because of the welcoming and warmth I have been shown by my host family and the educators at my school. I feel grateful for many reasons; one of which from the simple fact that I am able to serve as a PCV. Throughout the application process, I learned that it takes a certain level of economic ability to even serve as a volunteer. As someone with debt from college loans, I’m grateful that I was able to get deferments and to save enough money to continue paying one of the loans so I could be here. I’m also grateful that I’m able to WhatsApp with family and friends back home. And I am humbled by the generosity I have been given by so many people here in South Africa. For example, one of the educators at my school ensures that I have a ride home from school despite that fact that I have told him that I’m okay walking. To him, it would be a shame for me to walk when he has a car. What’s more, he has to drive in the opposite direction of his home in order for me to get to mine.

Like I mentioned above, I’m not new to settling into a new place, but I am new at settling into a country. I am excited, and anxious, to see what the next few months hold for me. And I look forward to it. Part of becoming a volunteer was knowing that this experience wasn’t going to be easy. Life wouldn’t be as interesting if it was.

Budding Libraries Part 1: Grant Applications, Foundation, and Infrastructure

Both of our schools have requested assistance in starting school-based libraries for learners (and teachers) to use. Most of our learners do not have books at home and/or are being raised by a person who cannot read. These libraries will support the remedial and extension learning of our students. There is a special interest in increasing access to English books because in grade 4 the Language of Instruction switches from being the learners’ “Home Language” (as determined by the school’s community, and in their case “IsiZulu”) to all courses being taught in English. English literacy has a domino effect: literacy leads to success in the subjects taught in school, which leads to obtaining competitive, meaningful employment (important in a county with a 30% unemployment rate), which leads to financial independence and security. Thus, supporting literacy program is a key priority for our schools and the larger community.

Therefore, for the last 3 months, Joe and I have both been working on two grant applications for book donations and setting up the infrastructure to support the incoming books. The continued development and maintenance of these libraries will be a significant secondary project for us during our service. We want to share a bit of our process with you. If approved for both, we will each receive a total of 2,250 new or gently-used books for our school libraries (fingers crossed).

Joe’s Account
In 2013, the educators at my school saw a need that wasn’t being addressed – the school was missing a library. The school already possessed a small number of fiction, non-fiction, and reference books (approximately 100). However, these books were being kept in the principal’s office because there wasn’t a designated space for them. The educators acquired a couple of large cabinets, placed them in one of the classrooms, and called it a library. The educators lacked formal training about how to establish and run a library, so the books sat idle in their new location.

Cabinets Awaiting More Books

This was where I came in. When I started volunteering at my school a few months ago in September 2014, the educators told me they wanted get more books for the library. After perusing the shelves in the cabinets, I spoke with the educators about applying for grants. They were excited about the possibility but didn’t know where to start. Through the assistance of other Peace Corps Volunteers in South Africa, I was able to find two grants that would help my school get books.

Both grants required a completed application and library action plan. The first grant also required a monetary commitment from the school to show its seriousness in enhancing the library. Despite working at one of the poorest schools in the region, the educators saw this challenge as an opportunity to unite the learners and their families. And they were going to do so by hosting a fundraiser called Market Day.

Along with the founding of the library, a library committee was also established. However, in the year before I came, the library committee had never met. Now, with the grant and Market Day, they had a reason. The committee discussed the fundraiser, decided what was going to be sold, and picked a date in early November.

The Educator/Librarian Leading the Way

Learners Lined Up to Purchase Goodies

Market Day came and, with it, excitement. Every educator pitched in to help – popping popcorn, making signs, reorganizing a classroom to become a “market”, setting up speakers to play music, and more. At break time, learners lined up outside the classroom to purchase snacks. In addition to popcorn, juice, hotdogs, ice creams, chips, and suckers were sold. The break flew by in a flash, and, by the end, over R700 (equivalent to $70) was raised. (This may sound like a small sum of money by American standards, but R700 is a large amount in South Africa). The educators were jubilant!

Educators Dancing before the Start of Market Day

Learners Excited to Get New/Gently-Used Books

Leading up to Market Day, an educator and I wrote a letter asking local businesses for donations. We raised R550 through their generosity. Combining the donations with the money raised during Market Day, my school raised the required amount for the grant.


The library committee and I met again after the fundraiser to discuss next steps. While we waited to hear about the grants, we identified training the educators would need in order to operate the library. Plans are now underway to coordinate the training. As part of the training, educators highlighted the need to include learners in the training so they know how to use the books and how to care for them.

Michelle’s Account
My school had wanted a library for at least one year. They had assigned a library committee and started to pull out books that they had already had in their stock. They had asked for donor resources, but hadn’t received the information necessary for them to act. These were steps in the right direction, for sure. However, the committee had only met once and the books weren’t being used and there were still 3x as many books hiding away in the depths of storage…So, we had some work to do.

I first approached the library chairperson to hold a meeting in early October. It became clear after a few tries that she wasn’t quite sure how to approach the principal to ask for a meeting and get us started. She asked if I would have that conversation and get the ball rolling… I didn’t understand at the time that she had never actually called any meeting on her own before and she literally did not know how to do this.

In our first two months of meeting, the committee has already accomplished the following:

• Developed the Purpose and Aims of the Library Committee
• Decided on a new structure for the committee, including roles and duties
• Instituted a new Student Assistant program to make the management of the library more sustainable
• Selected and trained 11 Student Assistants from grades 3-7
• Developed the Appropriate Use Policy for library resources (though the meeting to decide the consequences was cancelled)
• Approved two grants to request large book donations (1,000-1,250 books in each)

One great thing about the two grants we have applied for is that they both required our committee to set a more solid foundation for the library. As a result, it is easier to build buy-in for many essential elements. We still have a lot of work to do in the next school year to keep headed in the right direction, but morale is really high around the project and I am excited to see where we are able to go!

Book Grants: Current Status
To date, Joe and I have heard that our schools were accepted for the first grant – yay! We’re still waiting to hear about the second one, but we remain hopeful that we’ll hear good news. Expect to see another blog about the libraries as we hear more.

In the mean time, we’d like to give a shout out to Paul Prociv, Robbie Lang, and Michael Holloway for agreeing to be our contacts and lead fundraisers in the US for the second grant (if approved). We appreciate your willingness to assist us. Thanks Paul, Robbie, and Michael!

Over the River and Through the Woods… To the Indian Ocean, We Go!

(Please take note: this post is on the long side. But we’re okay with that because there’s no other way to tell this story; it’s just too good.)

This children’s song couldn’t be more fitting for the adventure we took about a month ago. A few weeks earlier, Michelle and I decided that we wanted to try to walk to the Indian Ocean from our house. When the locals go to the ocean, they spend about an hour in their 4X4 vehicle bouncing down the rutted roads. Although we could probably find someone to drive us there (PCVs are not allowed to operated motor vehicles while at site), we were excited for the opportunity to puzzle out our route and “hamba ngezinyawo” (go walking). We poured over the dinky map on Michelle’s cell phone and dreamed of the journey. We marked our calendars and were determined a day to go.

LEG 1: The Journey Begins…

Our hopes were slightly dampened when we woke to the sound of rain pitter-pattering on our tin roof.  However, I was feeling caged, and the thought of staying in all day was unappealing. I looked at Michelle and I said, “I don’t mind the rain. I just want to get out of the house.” Michelle smiled. With true Pacific-Northwesterner spirit, we quickly got ready, packed our day bags, and pulled up hoods of our rain jackets as we ventured outside.

We decided to retrace a route we took a few weeks prior that would get us to the edge of the third lake in the Kosi Lake system. We chose this route, despite it taking us a little bit out of the way, partially because it was a beautiful resting point and to see if we could remember it, but mostly because Michelle was nervous that we might not make it all the way to the ocean and wanted to take advantage of a guaranteed waterfront view. Although I did not share her concerns, I could see that it would make her smile and obliged the small detour.

Kosi Lake in the Distance

We were pleased to see that we could remember how to get to the lake, but we were surprised to find a few other people there (the last time we were there we had the lake to ourselves). We greeted the people in isiZulu and introduced ourselves. We learned that the people there were guides from a local tourist lodge who were waiting on a couple of clients. The head guide, George, asked what we were doing, so we told him about how we hoped to get to the ocean. He was shocked to hear that we planned to walk there because he said it was going to take a few hours. But he seemed more confident in our abilities (if not even more shocked) to hear that we had walked to the lake from our village, which took about 1.5 hours.

Before leaving them, we asked if he could give us directions from the lake to the ocean. We thought we had a good sense of where we were going, but we couldn’t miss this opportunity to gain better beta. He drew some rough directions in the dirt and gave us a few landmarks to follow. When Michelle and I left him waiting for his clients, he jokingly said he hoped to see us at the beach. As we left the lake, we came across one of George’s partners at the trailhead. He had just arrived with the clients. We exchanged greetings and introductions, and then we told him our plans. This guide was just as amazed as his partner had been. He double-checked to make sure we knew that this would be a long journey. After confirming that we prepared to walk for most of the day, the guide told us to wait for him at the trailhead. He said he would give us a ride in his safari vehicle to the South side of the lake after he dropped off the clients to help cut down on some of the walking.

Michelle and I were excited to receive his offer, so we sat waiting like little kids at Christmas for his return. When the guide got back, we climbed into the seats and we starting driving. It was a really cool experience to ride in the safari vehicle. It felt like you could see for miles! I had a huge smile on my face for the whole drive (about two kilometers); I couldn’t believe we were getting a ride like that.

The guide took us to a juncture in the road. He explained, “Take this road here and stay to the left. You will come to a river. Look for the raffia-branch ferry to pull yourselves across the river. Try to follow the edge of the lake on the other side and it will lead you to the ocean.” We thanked him for the ride and directions, and we continued on our way.

LEG 2: …Over the River…
We found the trail at the end of the road. The route to the river was pretty simple and direct. The river’s edge was marshy and lined with high, undisturbed grasses. It was clear that this was not where the ferry crossed. The guides had shared that the raft would be off the beaten path and used only by those who lived along the river’s edge, so we turned to the North and followed the smaller path upstream hoping to find the crossing. After a little while, the ground became more firm and defined. Finally, we found the raft.

The raft was a little longer than a queen-sized bed, but just as wide. It was attached to both ends of the shore by long ropes. To cross the river, we had to fetch the raft by pulling on the rope that stretches between our shore and the raft. Once the distance was closed, we stepped onto the raft and pulled a separate rope, which will brought us to the opposite shore.

The Rafia-Branch Ferry

There were some boys fishing on the other side of the river when we got there. A few of them were kind enough to pull the raft to our side and hand over the rope. Michelle and I boarded the raft, pulled on the rope, and crossed the river.

LEG 3: …And Through the Woods…
As we continued alongside the lake, we passed a herd of cows grazing near the water. Some of the cows were even out in the water (something new for me to see). Michelle asked the herders if we were heading in the right direction. Considering the language barrier, we took their nods at “ulwandle” (meaning ocean) and pointing to mean that we were going the right way.

After the lake, we wound our way through a wooded maze of trails and roadways. Michelle and I left markings in the sand whenever we came to a fork in the trail so that we would know how to find our way back. We could tell we were getting closer to the ocean because we started to feel a change in the temperature and, eventually, we could hear the sound of the water. We did feel discouraged a couple of times because we kept expecting to see the ocean after making a few turns, but it wasn’t there. With the little life left to the battery on Michelle’s phone (we didn’t have electricity the day before so she wasn’t able to charge it), we found our location on a map. The ocean was definitely within reach. Thankfully, we passed a couple of children who pointed us in the right direction and there were a few, sketchy signs that we didn’t expect to see that helped us.

We passed a campsite that we knew was near the ocean, because the guides had told us about it. This meant that we were nearly there. We walked a little farther; we could smell the salt of the sea now. Our excitement was growing.

The Thicket before the Ocean

We turned the corner, walked through some trees, and, through the thicket, we could see the blue of the ocean. Our pace quickened as we came out of the trees and could see the ocean stretched out into the horizon. We made it! After walking for 3.5 hours and traveling around 20 km, we had arrived at the Indian Ocean.

HALFWAY: The Indian Ocean!
It was beautiful. The waves were lapping on the shore. There were a few fishermen with lines in the water hoping to catch some kingfish. We walked along the shore mesmerized by the water and enjoying the breeze.

A Grand View of the Indian Ocean

Michelle and I ate our lunch; after walking so far, we were famished. Michelle was feeling a little anxious about the timing and was eager to get back on trail. However, she could tell that taking the time to enjoy the beach was important to me so we decided to sit a little longer to take in the moment.  We made ourselves comfortable in the sand, and I closed my eyes for a bit while I listened to the waves.

Waves Crashing Upon the Shore

I told Michelle that I wanted to stick my feet in the ocean before we left. We took off our boots and walked to the water’s edge. The water felt refreshingly cool. We walked parallel to the shore to the spot where we entered the beach, snapping pictures along the way. As we neared the entrance/exit, we saw a familiar face standing there – it was George, the guide that we met at Kosi Lake! He saw us walking up from the water and, with a huge smile on his face, he ran down to meet us halfway. He was amazed to see us because he was impressed that we made it. We tried to make him laugh by telling him it was because of his directions.

Michelle's and My Feet in the Ocean

George asked us how much longer we planned to stay on the beach. We told that we were on our way out now because we need to get back before dark. He told us that if we were willing to wait another hour he would give us a ride in his boat back across the lake because there were plenty of seats. Michelle and I couldn’t believe our ears. It was too good to be true. We happily accepted his offer. The guide told us that while we waited there were sea turtle nests we could view on the beach. (Note: sea turtles are one of Michelle’s favorite animals). He told us how to find the nests and he set us loose. We found a few nests along the beach, and we were careful not to disturb them.

Low Tide at the Ocean

Finding ourselves with some time to kill, we sat down in the sand watching the water. Before long, dozens of crabs starting poking their bodies out from beneath the sand. The crabs with their little fire red shells and claws cautiously cleared sand out of their homes. It seemed like a futile endeavor considering that their homes would be underwater when the tide came back in.

A Crab Poking Out Its Head from Beneath the Sand

LEG 5: The Journey Home
After an hour went by, Michelle and I, along with the guides and their clients, boarded the boat and headed back across the lake. Like when I was on the safari vehicle, I couldn’t help but smile as we sped over the water. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

We made it to the other side of the lake and docked the boat where we originally met the group. We helped the guides carry some of their equipment back to their truck. They all climbed into the truck, we said goodbye, and they drove off. Michelle and I laughed and reveled in the experience we had just had. After a couple of minutes, we started walking so we could get back home.

LEG 6: The Detour
Along the way, we saw a house in the distance that we recognized from a photo a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer had shown us. He told us it belonged to a friend he and his wife had made while they were in our shopping town. I saw that there was a truck parked outside the house and there were people sitting on the porch. Michelle said, “How funny would it be if those were our friends up there!” We hadn’t walked more than a few steps before, lo and behold, we heard the people from the porch yelling our names. We turned and looked in their direction and we were overjoyed to see our friends waving their arms.

We detoured from the trail and meandered up to the house. Our friends had huge smiles on their faces and gave us big hugs. We were all amazed to see each other. They introduced us to their friends who were quick to invite us to dinner. It felt great to sit on the porch, sip a nice beverage, and overlook the lake we had just came from. After the sun set, one of the new people we met told us to listen closely. As we listened, we could hear a deep noise that sounded like a low foghorn. She told us the sound was coming from hippos – so cool! It was too bad we couldn’t see them.

After finishing dinner and chatting some more, our new friends drove us back to our house. Michelle and I walked inside, looked at each, and simply said, “What a wonderful day.”

Post-Script
In reflecting on our journey to the ocean, a couple of lessons/reminders stand out. First, it was our trust in each other and listening to our needs that allowed this day to be truly magical. If I had not compromised with Michelle to stop in at Kosi Lake, we never would have met George and would probably have failed in our journey. If Michelle had not compromised on the time we would start walking home, we would have missed George again—and missed out on the sea turtle nests, the dancing of the crabs in the tide, and the generous ride across the lake. This was a nice reminder of how beautiful it can be when we slow down and listen to one another.

Michelle & Me Standing on the Shoreline

Secondly, seeing the ocean wasn’t the only amazing part to the experience, though; it was getting there and back that truly made the experience exceptional. It’s often said that the journey is more meaningful that the destination. In our experience, it couldn’t have been more true. A month ago, we made it happen. We walked to the ocean. And it was as breathtaking as we hoped it would be.