Brand new old world

If you had asked me some years ago, I would have told you that not even in my remotest dreams I would have imagined to visit Africa one day. As an English Teacher, I’ve always thought my first long English-speaking trip would be to an ordinary place like Toronto, L.A. or even the very-expensive-for-my-budget London. That's not how things (fortunately) worked out, though. After years planning and wondering where my will and my money would take me, I ended up going to Cape Town, South Africa. That's right: Africa. In a time – not so long ago - in which people would rather invest their savings and time travelling to either America or Europe - maybe Australia -, I did the opposite: I went into the wild. And I came back safe and sound, no lion tried to devour me, surprise, surprise – a bit of irony does no harm, does it?

Don´t take me wrong here, don´t think my reasons were 100% based on my inner wild feelings of getting to know the oldest and most exotic continent in the planet: nope. I actually wanted to go to Canada. Very boring choice, indeed. Cheaper, colder, less appealing. More traditional, though. The thing is, Canada and its Embassy ended up doing me a big favour: they didn´t let me in. I mean, they had my Visa denied (“Visa” here stands for the stamp Embassies put in your passport in order to allow you enter their territory, not the Credit Card company, just for the record). Yes, that´s right, Canada, the land of the free and desperate for immigration didn´t want this poor teacher to be in their country of endless opportunities. And I was just going to stay there for two months. Oh, well. Some people, mostly moms, say everything happens for a reason. My skepticism has to agree with them. And moms are always right, aren’t they?

After getting the negative answer for my Canadian Visa and crying for some endless hours, a light shone on me. Actually, it was a good friend of mine – Luísa or my Fairy Godmother as I like to call her since then – who came up with such an awkward but also interesting suggestion: “Why don´t you go to South Africa instead??? It´s cheaper, hotter, they also speak English, YOU DON´T NEED A VISA and there won´t be tons of Brazilians there!!!” – her exact words. Wow, I thought. “You gotta be kidding me!!!” “Africa?!? Are you out of your mind?” Some minutes after her at-that-time-shocking idea, I gave it some thought. Collected some data on the net. Got some info at Travel Agencies. There was no doubt: Cape Town, that would be my destination. Wild life, Safaris, breathtaking views, amazing mountains to climb, a whole new different world to explore. Indiana Jones would have been proud of me.

Some of the best months of my life were about to start. Going through very long flights and delays at airports, I finally made it to Cape Town. My host family, Charlotte and Mark, were a lovely middle-aged couple who have always helped me and treated me as if I were part of their offspring. There was this other girl staying at their flat – Melanie, an 18-year-old Swiss girl. We hit it off immediately and had – what Bryan Adams sang some years ago – the best days of our lives. The school where I studied, Cape Studies, was also incredibly amazing, with excellent teachers always willing to help. My teacher, Gavin, was the sweetest and coolest one. Also the toughest, which made me like him even more. At school, I met people from all parts of the planet. But my biggest and sweetest surprise lies in a not-so-small country somewhere in west central Africa, named Gabon. By the way, was it just me or neither of you has heard of this country before? Sorry for my ignorance, but I only got to hear about this country because I met Fantastic (that’s it, with Capital “F”) people from there. Those guys were amazingly funny, gentle and kind. They ended up becoming my best friends there. I’ll take them with me wherever I go, even though I know deep inside I’ll never see them again – that’s the worst part of spending sometime in foreign countries, my friends.

I had the chance to know awesome beaches like Clifton and Camps Bay; I could climb Table Mountain and see the whole city from the top; I went on a wild and boiling Safari; Tasted wine from their very famous vineyards; visited Robben Island, where Mandela spent more than two decades locked and exiled; I got to like hip hop a bit – but just a bit – tasted Chicken pizza with avocado (yucks!) and started appreciating what later became my favorite beer Stella Artois. I learned the true meaning of words like companionship, partnership, love and family. I discovered what to miss really important people was – my family and a few friends. I found out Apartheid might be formally over, but it was still felt on the streets, inside homes and into people´s minds. I’ve learnt how naive and badly informed Europeans can be – I met a Swiss who thought we, Brazilians, didn’t have Tvs at home… Oh, well… So much for ignorance. I learned how similar people can be, no matter what kind of upbringing they might’ve had.

I never tend to regret my decisions. I sold my old beloved Fiat Uno in order to spend some months in Africa. Now I know I couldn´t have made a better choice. Cars, money, all these material things, cliches aside, come and go. A trip, however, and its outcome will be forever yours. And no one else´s. Traveling to Africa opened my eyes to many tiny but not unimportant things about humankind. Made me also see life and future with other perspective. Turned me into a better person. (violins, please!)

The friends I made there, the people and places I met, the food, the streets, the sunset, the summer: South Africa is a unique place. With the upcoming World Cup, it´s funny to see people getting more and more interested about a country which never seemed to call people´s attention before. Surprising but good. I went there four years ago, I was 23, had just graduated from University, had lots of hopes and urges to know the rest of the world. South Africa has opened me many doors, not only professional ones, but also motivational ones. I´ve finally had the chance to prove how good my English was (and still is, hopefully!) and shut the mouth of many people I knew who never trusted teachers – like me, at that time - who hadn´t had experiences abroad. A huge stupidity, if you ask me. I reckon an experience abroad is extremely important for English teachers, but not mandatory. I myself know many teachers who haven’t been abroad and have excellent command of the language. I also know people who have travelled to foreign countries and think they are English teachers because of that. On the other hand, I know many people who have spent years in English Speaking countries and cannot tell the difference between it's and its. Oh, well. Life is what you make from the opportunities you get, I reckon. Whether we like it or not.

Philosophies apart, living in a different country, experiencing a new culture and language, trying different foods, drinking different kinds of beer (of course!!!) is something I think it´s primordial to everyone´s lives. I know there are people who aren´t very keen on flying and backpacking, but I do think people should be a bit more receptive to the unknown. There´s no harm in trying.

If I hadn´t been to South Africa, for instance, I wouldn´t probably be writing you this lovely text now. I could be either sleeping or daydreaming about what life in a whole different continent is like. Instead, I worked hard, saved lots of money and went there. I made it. I saw everything with my own myopic eyes and felt every sensation with my so-called heart of stone. And now, besides loads of pictures and sweet memories, I have the certainty that that old saying which says books and trips are the best teachers is not only true but also a fact. At least in my life.