Where I Am and Where I'm Going

A city across the sea #capetown #robbenisland

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Nov 9, 2016 at 1:25pm PST

I started writing this post on a crowded Mozambican bus somewhere outside of Inhambane, grudgingly bracing for a 6-10 hour ride towards Maputo. Just me, my 2 travel companions, and my 30 closest Mozambican friends.

I’ve never been good at endings. There’s something about a conclusion that terrifies me. Endings mean starting over. Endings mean moving on. And, in this case, endings mean leaving a family behind.

When I first decided to go on exchange, I knew it’d change me. I knew it would be an experience of a lifetime. I knew that I would learn more about myself than I had ever before. But what I didn’t know is the kind of people I’d meet here. Never once did I suspect I would encounter the most wonderful group of people I have ever met in my entire life. But that’s exactly what happened. Life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need when you don’t even know that you need it. I didn’t know I needed these people. I didn’t know I needed this place. But I got them. And that makes me the luckiest person alive.

The past 5 months have been, truly, the greatest 5 months of my entire life. I have traveled to 7 countries. I’ve been on countless trains, planes, and automobiles. I’ve drank too much, and I’ve eaten far much more. I’ve seen deserts and savannahs and palm trees and lush forests. I’ve raced down highways and been starred down by elephants. I’ve gotten terribly lost and lost out on even more sleep. I’ve jumped off bridges and jumped on trampolines. I’ve walked through a KFC drive-thru at 4am, and I’ve walked across international borders. I’ve ordered Ubers so I didn’t have to walk 3 minutes in the rain and I’ve walked hours in the sweltering heat. I’ve cried and I’ve yelled and I’ve smiled so big that my face hurt. I really have done it all. But now things must change, once again.

Despite the great sadness I feel writing this post, I cannot forget what I’ve learned here. Endings don’t need to mean the end. They don’t have to be a devastating or tragic conclusion. And, as a dear friend once told me, endings can be beginnings too. And beginnings, well, those are much less frightening.

So I’m going to try to focus on the beginning. This post may be entitled “The End”, but it will never be just that. Because this is not just where I am. No, this is also where I’m going. So this is not just an ending. It can’t be. Because what lies ahead — that wonderful, uncertain, and terrifying mess that awaits me and everyone I care about, is so much greater than the sadness I feel now. And that’s what I’ll focus on. Indeed, I have to.

I’m going to focus on the lifelong friendships I’ve made here. I’m going to focus on the enormous collection of wonderful memories I have from here. I’m going to focus on the positive changes and growth I’ve seen in myself. I’m going to focus on what I’ve learned from my time here. And I’m going to use all these things — all these amazing things — to make my future even brighter. Not because I have to in order to move on, but because I want to.

So, this is it. This is the end. And, this is a beginning. This has been where I am and where I’m going. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading.

Capturing the darkness

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Sep 19, 2016 at 11:41am PDT

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light.” – Albus Dumbledore

These are dark times. There’s no question about that. With Drumpf, Brexit, Syria, and ISIS, there is no avoiding it — the darkness. Not even little South Africa is immune. There is instability and uncertainty everywhere amongst us, and there appears to be no light at the end of this tunnel.

Indeed, I’ve felt the darkness here too. With my time in South Africa running out, it’s hard to focus on the good, nay, the perfect things in front of me. The darkness is a powerful force. And it is nearly impossible to ignore. The darkness can control my thoughts. The darkness can control my actions. And despite my greatest efforts to fight it, I’ll admit there have been many times when the darkness has won.

But something I’ve learned about the darkness is this: it is useful. It is often in the darkest of times that we find out what we are truly capable of. It is in times like these that we discover our true character, our true desires, and our true selves. And it is these things that can bring light to even the darkest of times. Indeed, there is always light. We just have to look in the right places for it.

And so, despite the seemingly insurmountable darkness in front of us all, we cannot forget the light — however dim it might appear to be. Indeed, it is that light that is the only thing worth living for. Because when you’ve felt it, like I have during my entire stay in Cape Town, you’ll never want to lose it again. So as we walk into this great unknown together, let’s not forget the light in and around us all. I know I won’t.

Where is home? That, is a question I’ve found myself asking a lot these past few years as I’ve moved from place to place. And it is a question that I once again find myself trying to answer.

Ever since I moved away from my “home” of Strathroy, Ontario, Canada to attend university at UBC in Vancouver, the concept of “home” has been fluid to me. And that’s not to say where I come from is no longer home to me — because it is — but rather, it’s to say that I no longer have just one home.

Over the years, I’ve learned that home is so much more than a physical space. Home, to me, is a state of mind. It is a feeling of safety, of warmth, and of peace. It is a feeling of belonging and comfort. It is knowing that you are where you belong, however temporary that may be. It is a feeling unlike any other, and right now, I’m feeling more at home than I have in a long time.

After living in Cape Town for nearly 4 months, I can finally say that I feel at home. My walks through this place carry with them more purpose and confidence, even on a simple stroll to the grocery store. I know where to go and where not to go. I know what is safe and what is risky. It’s all become second-nature to me, and I love it.

Home is also the people I’m with. Because when you’re with the right people, those feelings of safety, and peace, and belonging, and comfort — they exist there too. The people I’ve met here in Cape Town are now a part of my home. No matter where we may roam, as long as they’re with me, I know that things will end up okay. And when the time comes for us to return to where we came from, I know I’ll have a home wherever they may be.

So, where is home? Home can be anything. With anyone. Anywhere.

Home is Strathroy. Home is Vancouver. Home is Cape Town. Home is with my family. Home is with my friends. Home is feeling safe. Home is knowing that I belong. And there’s nothing else like it — to feel at home.

Just admiring the views of Cape Town from #LionsHead

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Jul 17, 2016 at 9:12am PDT

In recent weeks, I’ve found myself trapped in thoughts of the future. I’ve once again found myself constantly planning for the future, evaluating my goals, and determining the next steps. I do this because soon, very soon indeed, I will once again be back in the real world. A world with real consequences. A world where every choice matters.

That’s not to say that choices don’t matter here, but they certainly don’t matter as much. Here things are simple. I don’t need to plan for the future, because things just happen. But at home, the path I’ve chosen doesn’t just happen. It involves careful deliberation and careful planning. Every day matters. And one wrong decision could widely change everything I have worked so hard to achieve.

But from being in this place, I’ve noticed many changes to the considerations I’ve made while making plans for the future. I find myself thinking more and more about the people in my life, and how they are just as important to me as my goals for the future. You see, I’ve begun to realize that this path I’ve chosen doesn’t need to be a solemnly desolate one. I don’t need to march into the unknown alone. And, in fact, I can’t. Nobody can make it alone these days. And I don’t think anyone ever could. The people in my life here, and those I love back at home, are people I need to have alongside me if I’m ever going to reach that mountaintop of accomplishment that I seek. I’ve learned that the people around me aren’t a distraction from the goal, but are indeed a part of the goal itself. What is success without others to share and celebrate it with, after all?

So as I continue my hike to whatever new goals I make for myself, I won’t do it alone. Not anymore, at least.

It's been real, #Botswana

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Sep 2, 2016 at 3:36pm PDT

“I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way” – Carl Sagan

This blog is, and will continue to be, a written narrative of my journey during my time in Cape Town. Which is why the title, “Where I Am And Where I’m Going”, is so meaningful to me. Because I know where I am. That’s obvious. But I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t even have the slightest of idea. But I know I’m going there — wherever that may be — and I have time to thank (and hate) for that. Yes time… it is my greatest of adversaries, and my most trusted of allies.

Here’s the thing about time. It drags us along without asking. Time is indifferent to what we desire, to what we believe, and to what we hope. Time just goes. Sometimes, I’m thankful for time and the speed it brings. Indeed, time is a welcome friend during periods of struggle. Though, more often than not, it seems that time is actively rooting against me, as it pushes me away from periods of great happiness. And this is where I am now.

It seems like just yesterday that I arrived here. It seems like just yesterday I met all of my amazing friends. It seems like just yesterday I began my adventure in this whole new world. But it wasn’t yesterday. It was a long time ago. Even today, I find myself saying things like “there will be another time”, or “we can always go another time”. But now, nearly 3 months into my stay here in Cape Town, I find myself realizing that time is running out.

Just 70 more days.

And these are the struggles that I face now. To stay focussed on the present when the future beckons. To enjoy the moment when I must prepare for the future. To stay happy when the future is full of sadness.

Yes. It appears that time is no longer on my side. There’s nothing I can do to change that. This I know for certain. But what I’ve learned from my time here is important. And that is to worry less. Why should I worry about the unknown? Why should I give in to unnecessary thoughts about hypothetical times? The end is near. I know that. I just won’t let whatever time I have left here be in service of the unknown.

After all, it’s just like that sunset above. I can see an end to this beautiful light. And that makes me sad. But damn it, I’m going to squeeze as much joy as possible into what time I have left here. Before it’s too late.

This city never ceases to take my breath away #capetown #lionshead

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Sep 18, 2016 at 1:19pm PDT

Growing up in Canada, it’s hard to visually see the great privileges I’ve had throughout my entire life. See, in Canada, we are raised under the impression that everyone is equal, regardless of race, religion, sexuality, gender, etc. And, for the most part, people are treated equally. That’s not to say there isn’t work to be done — because there is — but compared to much of the world, Canada has done exceptionally well. In South Africa, on the other hand, this is not the case. Not even close.

South Africa, officially, is a free and equal democratic society, and it has been ever since the end of Apartheid. Apartheid — the legislative system of segregation of races that plagued South Africa until 1994 — is over. But the scars of those days have not healed. In fact, it seems the wounds have barely begun to even close up.

In South Africa, people are still defined by the colour of their skin. It is an important part of the people’s identity — whether they like it or not. Even as an outsider coming into South Africa, I find myself being more and more aware of what being white in this country means, and that’s something I struggle to deal with. The colour of my skin has never been something that defines me. I don’t see myself as a white, male, Canadian student. I see myself as a human being — just like everyone else. But in South Africa, being white carries with it, unfortunately, a great deal of privilege. And it’s a tough thing to notice at first, until you start actively looking for it. One only has to walk through the major “tourist” areas of Cape Town in order to see it — it’s all white people. And as you look closer and closer, you begin to see that the colour of your skin means something here. These divisions of race were by design, and despite Apartheid being over, these divisions are still very much a reality. White privilege is real. And I’m struggling to understand how to deal with it.

Now, with the escalation of more student protests in South Africa over proposed 2017 fee increases for post-secondary education (http://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/23/world/africa/fees-must-fall-anatomy-of-the-student-protests-in-south-africa.html), the idea of privilege has been rattling around in my mind even more. After an announcement of modest fee increases for the 2017 school year, campuses across SA have erupted into protests — mainly peaceful — demanding that post-secondary education be free, or at the very least cheaper, for all SA citizens. The protestors, the majority of whom are black South Africans coming from poorer upbringings, have been successful at shutting down UCT for the past 2.5 weeks, and threaten to continue protesting until the government acts in accordance to their demands. And don’t get me wrong, I support the right to protest. I also agree that university should be free. But in reality, this demand is nearly impossible for a country like South Africa. It’s almost not even possible in a wealthy nation like Canada. This is the important part that I believe many protestors ignore. And this, right here, is where privilege comes into play. To me, the proposed fee increases are modest, and would make no difference to me should I have to pay them. But to many black South Africans, these increases represent the difference between them attending and not attending post-secondary, something I have been so privileged to never have to understand. Having the colour of your skin playing a role in whether you can attend university is beyond imaginable in a country like Canada. But in South Africa, because of its past, this is exactly what is happening.

So given these circumstances, I feel as though I am on the outside looking in — unable to understand the mindset behind the anger. And that’s why I’ve chosen the picture above to represent these feelings. Just like the hike up Lion’s Head at night, the city seems so peaceful and calm. Yet there is so much going on that I cannot even begin to understand.

Just admiring the emptiness in #Botswana

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Sep 5, 2016 at 8:53am PDT

I’ve always lived my life trying to follow a set plan — a series of milestones and accomplishments all leading towards that one final dream. Following a plan has always been comforting to me, as it minimized any uncertainty about the future that I may face. The problem with plans however, is how seldom they work out. So, naturally, when things didn’t go according to plan, that’s when the worrying started. And worry I did. All the time. About everything.

I suppose I can’t blame myself entirely for this condition though. It is against human nature to embrace the unknown. Thousands of years ago, not knowing what that shadow in the distance was could have quite literally killed you. But now, in a our modern world, uncertainty doesn’t often take the form of a shadow in the distance. Rather, it is the thought that keeps you awake. The worry that plagues your daily routine. Or the stress that cripples your mind. Yes, uncertainty, and the unknown in general, have been my most constant of adversaries. My whole life has been a continuing fight to obtain some sort of certainty. A desperate struggle for just a second of control of the future. And it’s a desire of mine that I dislike.

But now, as I continue this journey in Cape Town, I find my mind changing. The places I’ve been and the people I’ve met continue to challenge everything I have ever believed. And what I now know is this: It’s the beauty in front of us we must focus on. A recent trip to Zambia and Botswana has helped me see that more than ever before. Whether you’re standing at the edge of Victoria Falls, staring down an elephant on the side of the road in Botswana, or even sitting in a hot and sweaty taxi that barely holds together, you’ve got to appreciate the moment. Because that is certain. And while travelling in Africa, and many other places on Earth, certainty is a luxury. And through my time here in Cape Town and around Southern Africa, I’ve grown to appreciate the moment more and more. And it’s intuitive really, when you really think about it. We spend so much time trying to explain and understand everything around us, that we often forget to just appreciate it. We neglect the very beauty that sits right before us.

Now even uncertain futures excite me. For I know that even in the darkest of times, there will always be something to appreciate. So maybe uncertainty has a purpose. The future is scary. The unknown, terrifying. But yet, uncertainty, and the unknown in general, carry with them a certain kind of excitement and beauty unlike any other feeling. And maybe, just maybe, if we could all appreciate the immense beauty of the unknown, we would find that inner peace we all desperately seek.

So whether it be the moment we’re in, or that distant future that softly calls, you’ve got to appreciate it. I know I do.

I had to hike a mountain today to work off the insane amount of food I’ve been eating here #japtraap #tablemountain #capetown

A photo posted by Zach (@zweiss21) on Jul 30, 2016 at 12:04pm PDT

At the moment of writing this first post, I have been in Cape Town for exactly 1 month and 18 days — with each one of those moments being more or equally as memorable as the previous. It’s hard to fully express in words what being in this place, at this time, means to me. You see, I came to Cape Town on a gut instinct. There was no contemplation, no weighing of options, and no pros and cons lists. There was only Cape Town. From the moment I saw I was able to attend school here for a term, I knew I had to be here. And it was a risk, I’ll admit, to come here without knowing a soul. Without knowing what to expect. Without knowing not much of anything, to be honest. But I think that’s one of the funny things about life — the greatest risks often carry the greatest of rewards (or the greatest of punishments). I can certainly say, however, that coming to Cape Town has been the single greatest decision of my entire life.

People often ask me, “Zach, what is it about Cape Town that makes you love it so much?” To them my answer is, “well, I’m not sure.” That isn’t so much a lie as it is me neglecting to tell the whole truth. Don’t get me wrong, Cape Town, as a city, is truly wonderful. With an abundance of gorgeous natural wonders, such as Table Mountain, its placement on the ocean, and the inspiring array of cultures the residents of this city hold, there’s a lot of good to say about Cape Town. Similar things could be said about South Africa as a whole. But what draws me to this place isn’t so much the city itself, but it is everything else around me. It’s the people I’ve met. The conversations I’ve had. The things I’ve learned. The things I’ve done. It’s the combination of each one of these aspects that has made this experience so unique and so captivating. Never in my life have I been in an environment that can excite, entertain, captivate, and motivate me simultaneously. And this environment I find myself in is indeed a rare and temporary one. For I know my time here is finite, and I know this place cannot be permanent. So with those things in mind, let me tell you where I’ve been.

For the past month and a half, I have begun my personal journey through this new land. Back in Vancouver at UBC, I have always been a devoted and committed student — almost to the point that university had taken up 100% of my life. I pushed away friends, neglected my health, and let the weight of the world crush me. I worried constantly, even about the most mundane and unimportant aspects of my life at UBC. But at the University of Cape Town (UCT), everything is quite the opposite. All of a sudden it seems, I now have time for just about everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I can be social. I can be healthy. I can be happy. And I’ll admit, this description may seem idyllic — and that’s because it is. Finally, I have found a place where I can be who I want to be, and not have the world doing everything it can to take that from me.

So that’s what this blog is here to convey. This blog exists because I am on a path that I have been searching to find for as long as I have lived. This blog exists because I know many others are on that same path, and because many others are still looking for that path. This is where I am, and I can’t wait to share with you where I’m going.