Christmas has come and gone, and the blues are still here. Yes, even in warm, sunny South Africa.
My team and I are in Johannesburg this month. Being an all girls team, we were a bit nervous finding out this is where we were placed, as it’s quite dangerous. Or so we hear. “You take the public taxis?” the lady who cut my hair was shocked, her eyes wide and her expression skeptical. “Don’t you feel unsafe, aren’t you scared?” Passengers we sit with on said taxis even look at us with surprise. “I NEVER take public transport, and if I do, I only bring the necessary amount of money and never my entire purse” a Jozi citizen said to one of my teammates.
So, much of our month has been spent inside, behind our barred windows, vicariously living through the rest of our squad who are all at the beach this month or through family and friends back home.
Two days before Christmas, I had a mental breakdown. Tears even happened, so I knew this was serious. It’s not fair! I screamed in my head, to myself, to God, to the white wall I was staring at. I was angry, furious even. Why am I here? I watch movies with the same three kids every single day. I give them hugs and they beg for food, lying about not eating that morning. I climb into my middle bunk every night after a seemingly wasted day of scrolling Pinterest and eating entire packages of cookies. This is not my ideal situation and this is not my ideal way to spend Christmas.
I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” last night. I woke up in the middle of the night, frustrations and irritations plaguing even my subconscious mind. So I finished the movie in an effort to escape myself.
Maybe it’s the situation I am currently in or the subtitles that helped me understand the story better, but I felt so closely the pain and frustration of George Bailey. I understand what it’s like to be stuck. He was stuck in Bedford Falls with an entire world waiting for him to explore it, but he couldn’t because people needed him. I’m stuck in this house in an incredible city full of history and graffiti but I can’t get out because it’s not safe.
But as I’ve been writing this, I realize I’m not like George Bailey as much as I’m like Mr. Potter. Yeah, the “warped, frustrated old man.” Mr. Potter had all the money he could ever want. He practically owned the entire town. Yet, he was so full of bitterness and greed that he wanted the one thing he couldn’t get his hands on: Building and Loan.
I’m bitter (obviously). I look at photos and read statuses about other people’s Christmases, and jealousy twists my insides. I see gifts and hear from my family and my chest tightens with loneliness and anger. I don’t want to be here. I, like Potter, want all the things I don’t have: a month at the beach, celebrating at home with my family, being part of the hustle and bustle of the last minute shopping. Participating in the yearly traditions of getting a real tree and baking with my mom and sisters and trying to convince my brother, Matthew to watch “The Snowman” with us (who always refuses because it’s too sad).
But what I’ve failed to remember, or rather haven’t allowed myself to focus on, are the things I do have. I have wifi, I have drinkable tap water, an actual bed, and comfy couches to sit on in a building that provides shelter and safety from the crazy nightlife outside and the right-next-to-us thunderstorms. I ate two giant Christmas dinners; one with our hosts, prepared by one of my teammates and another at a family’s incredible home with their hilarious, intelligent children. I received gifts from some of my teammates, the creativity exploding through construction paper, quotes and old t-shirts. And to top it off, I’m in South Africa, halfway through an adventure that most people will never get to experience.
So, dear Mr. Potter, it seems you and I have more in common than I would like. We both have the world, yet we want the stars, too. We can’t seem to just be grateful for what’s already in our hands or what’s over our heads. But unlike you, I’m not going to die a miserable old (wo)man. I don’t want bitterness to keep eating away at my soul, like it did you. I don’t want to be stuck in my misery, feeling completely alone and irritated with anything that breathes, like you.
I want to be friends with George Bailey. I want to lasso the moon and explode with excitement at the small things like Zuzu’s petals or hugging the little girls who come by every day to say hi. I want to be able to laugh and enjoy shuffling seats every bus stop on the taxis and feel ok with being myself. I want to stop shutting down and start speaking up more.
It’s a day or two late, but that’s my Christmas wish. You hear that, Clarence? Let’s get one of your angel friends a good pair of wings.
*UPDATE: I have 6 days left to raise $1,486 in order to stay on the Race. I’ve teamed up with my friend, William Reed, to make a photo/story book about our experiences on the Race! Check it out here for more info and how you can help support me while getting sweet photos and stories!
