The LAST WEEK

Ah, my last week. I can hardly believe it. Before I forget… happy belated Easter, everyone. And Family Day. And Good Friday. Tomorrow, meanwhile, is Freedom Day here in South Africa, marking the celebration of the first national democratic elections… which took place in 1994. But now for a shorter trip down memory lane.

Last Thursday marked my last day at Cypress Primary. The entire week was equal parts incredible kindness and subterranean sadness. I would actually prefer not to chat about it too much, because I have a feeling my words will fall short (just as I thought they did upon describing my last few days in Tanzania). Nothing cheapens real life’s best memories like a rotten summation. I’d write a haiku, but I’m rubbish at those, too.

Let’s just say there were a lot of tears, speeches, songs, and kisses. Not to mention the white-table-cloth health-food-spread I received from the staff in the break room, the Cypress Primary wine glasses I received from one parent (to which my first graders inquired, “Umm, Miss Sarah, do you drink alcohol?”) and the home-made leather earrings I received from another. I read “Green Eggs and Ham,” one final time. I spent the entire morning in a haze of hugs, traveling from classroom to classroom to say my final farewells, rounding all of it off by camping out in my own 1st grade dreamland, where each of my students came up and whispered they loved me, one at a time, before I made my way to the exit.

I climbed back in the van at the end of the morning still somehow believing I’d be back the next week… but Monday has come and gone and it just isn’t so. As sad as it is, though… that’s okay. The reality of the situation is that it was a nearly perfect three months, and now its time to move on. I had closure in spades. I mean… just look at this classroom library corner. And check out these smiles (and gang signals. And tomfoolery. Typical). It’s been a wonderful ride, and I won’t ever forget it. Thank you, Cypress School.

Later that very afternoon, I got a chance to cry a little bit more when I visited St. Georges Cathedral in downtown Cape Town. Currently, in the crypt below the cathedral, there is an amazing exhibit of photos and video taken during the major protest periods of Apartheid and, more specifically, the Peace March of 1989. It’s hard to believe that not so long ago, such a quiet, old building stood in the forefront of monumental rally cries for justice. If you get the chance, visit this place yourself… and get the cool chick with one million earrings to give you a tour. There’s nothing like her present-day passion and a solid clip of Desmond Tutu speaking about the “rainbow nation” to get me all choked up. The fact that I had just said goodbye to approximately 700 children earlier that day didn’t help either. But there’s really nothing like a good cry, is there? Not if you’re doing it for the right reasons.

I’m two days into my last week with Cross-Cultural Solutions (for now… ha). It’s been a terrific run – the quickest as well as the fullest six months of my life, I’d go so far to say. I’m blown away with all that’s come to pass… all of the people I’ve met, sites I’ve seen, and children I’ve high-fived. It’s incredible. As Cypress is closed for the holidays, I’m spending my last few days as a CCS volunteer hugging and feeding sick babies at a children’s hospital in Athlone. Not a bad way to go out, huh?