Field trip to Durban, March 2010.  Ayanda, Sizwe, Wandile, Lusanda, Lihle, Lindo, & others.

Because everyone loves stickers.  Especially Lungelo, Luke, Baby Sfiso, and "Shorty" (Mthokozisi).

a good year.

When I think about 2010, I feel quite short on words.  I've been asked, "So how was your year?" or "How does it feel to be home?" and of course, my year was life-changing and it feels really good to be back at home, surrounded by familiar faces and simple wonders that I will never again take for granted.

But I still feel that I haven't done any justice to the year I spent in South Africa.  I don't know how to go about telling my story, so I've decided to share some photos, maybe an accompanying story, and piece together my year this way.

The next community leaves for South Africa's sunny shores in just a few days.  I'll spend a few hours with the four of them on Saturday evening, and I feel so excited for the adventures they're about to experience, yet a part of me yearns to be stowing away and tagging along for the ride.  Now that the holidays are over and I've been reunited with the people and the country I left behind one year ago, I feel as though I should be going back-- back to school, back to St. Theresa's homework time, back to karaoke on Wednesday nights at The Highlander and Durban's beachfront and rugby matches on the weekends and Robson's delicious microbrewed beer.  Thinking about it all makes my heart hurt a bit.

As for the here and now, I'm frantically applying for jobs whenever I can in education, housing, and academic non-profits in New York and Philadelphia, and recently applied to a few graduate programs as alternatives, in case the whole employment thing remains out of reach.  I'll find something, I know-- and for now, I'm content to enjoy the snow while reminiscing about the Durban summer.

Enjoy the photos, but I'm pretty sure that there's as much for me as they are for you.  And thank you, ngiyabonga kakhulu, for keeping up with me.




P.S. I'm also back on my old blog.  Though life is not as "different" as it was this time last year, I still like to think there are things worth noting.


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"hello is so easy... but goodbye? goodbye is very hard miss sinead"

I've been through a few break-ups in my life, but saying goodbye to South Africa feels like the worst one of them all.  It's a lump in my throat when I wake up in the morning, the echo of my bare walls and empty closet, the pain in my heart when I go through my photos to pick a couple to print for the people I love.  It's tight hugs from the boys at St. Theresa's, one last bunny chow with our feet in the Indian Ocean in Durban, handmade cards from the learners at St. Leo's who, in January, couldn't speak a lick of English.  It's that inevitable knot in the pit of my stomach on the final drive to St. Theresa's, St. Leo's, Gogo Gloria's house, church in Kloof, passing the Siyakwamukela eThekwini sign on the drive into Durban.




Pinky, in Grade 4, said it best.  "Saying hello is so easy!  But goodbye?  Goodbye is very hard, Miss Sinead."


South Africa has shown me just how much love my heart is capable of... but there is no doubt that I will be leaving a large piece of it here when I go.




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saying "siyabonga".

Happy Thanksgiving!  While we won't be celebrating with a big turkey dinner until Saturday, I've been thinking a lot today about being thankful, and how unbelievable it is that Thanksgiving is upon us once again.

It's one of my favourite holidays, though a relatively new addition to the Cloughley Repertoire of Excuses for Massive Eating.  When we first moved to the US, Thanksgiving was a foreign concept and an excuse to take the few days' off from school or work to visit somewhere we hadn't seen yet: Chesapeake Bay, the Virgin Islands, Colonial Williamsburg.  There was also the memorable year when Dad attempted to serve pheasant to our not-yet-developed palates.  As the years passed and my parents' collection of fellow ex-pat friends grew, we gathered at someone's house for a dinner in the late afternoon, replacing our extended family with similarly isolated immigrants.

But then we returned to our comfortably insular selves, and the past few years have seen Thanksgiving morph into a family celebration all our own.  Our day usually consists of serving lunch at the Trenton Area Soup Kitchen, then lolling around with a few glasses of wine while the turkey cooks, followed by dinner and more wine, then falling asleep to our latest Netflix in the basement.  At dinnertime, each person goes around and mentions something for which he or she is thankful.

Last Thanksgiving feels so long ago, but here I am, one year later, eating samp and beans for dinner... and through the haze of my end-of-school-term exhaustion, feeling very thankful.

Things For Which I Am Thankful (or Will Be In 13 Days) 2010:

1.  The post-volunteer luxury it will be to be able to say No

2.  The ability of my family to remain loving and such an unbelievable comfort to me no matter where we happen to be

3.  Every single child at St. Leo's for bringing a love into my life that I didn't know existed (and that I didn't know my heart was capable of containing)

4.  My faith

5.  Insoles for running shoes that give them a new lease on life when new shoes are out of my financial reach

6.  The Great Avocado Saturation of South Africa

7.  Every letter, card, mix CD, and bag of coffee I got (or got lost) via mail this year

8.  My health and the health of everyone I love

9.  Skype

10.  The ability to read and write, and other advantages of a good education

I think I'm still thankful for the ways I felt blessed prior to this year, but it is the overlooked privileges that I appreciate today.  As the Zulus would say, Siyabonga Baba.

Enjoy your turkey/tofurkey!

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what it's worth.

"To Shinad

Hi Shinad How are you me I am fine.  I would like to tell you something.  Shinad at first I did not like white people because of aparteid but I have realise that you must not hate somebody just because of the colour.  You must not judge some body the colour of the skin, and since I have relise that you are a good person and you are a kind person.  And even you are not near me I will always love you.  You show me the love that my parent never show.
Shinad I love you with all of my heart

From: Hlengiwe"


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at a loss.

I've been sitting here for about an hour, scrolling through the hundreds of photos I've taken over the past few weeks.  With this fancy new camera and very little time to read a multipage manual and actually figure out how to take good photos, I've just been taking craploads and hoping that some turn out okay.  There was Heritage Day at St. Leo's and St. Theresa's, various community outings (and spider sightings in our house), and the day I brought my camera to school "just in case".  I ended up spending twenty minutes doing a Grade 7 boys' photo shoot, and now, looking through these pictures, I'm meditating on the 23 days I have left here and wondering to myself how I can possibly feel so excited and relieved to have the end in sight... but also, feeling so sad at the prospect of leaving these kids, most of them probably forever.

A selection:

I'm feeling a little short on words tonight.




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