The thing I love about the YAGM program, as I’ve said it many times, is that we get to come to a country and truly live among the people - not just be tourists.
However, this isn’t always easy. To be a YAGM living in a new country is to be vulnerable; something I really don’t like doing. I am a strong, independent, resilient young woman and vulnerability makes me feel weak and helpless. Normally, I try to avoid being vulnerable at all costs.
That being said. I spent my YAGM year being more vulnerable than I ever thought I could be. I was pretty much the only white girl in my township and easily the surrounding townships (at least by the way I got looked at because white people aren’t very common in my township). I learned to navigate and use a transportation system without the comfort of Google Maps or a smartphone. I was forced to rely on the people around me for help with everything. When I needed to go to the store, I had to ask someone to take me. If I needed to get to Town to catch a bus, I had to ask someone to take me. When I needed Airtime for my phone, I had to ask someone where to get it.
This year I couldn’t do anything on my own without first asking someone for help. It was hard. It was very hard. Never in my life have I needed to ask for a ride to get lady products when I ran out. Never did I need to ask at a taxi rank which taxi to get in to take me to work (nor had I ever been in a taxi rank before this year). Never have I felt so stuck in one place, unable to move without “inconveniencing” those around me. I always felt like a burden, despite the responses of “it’s a pleasure, of course, we will take you.” In my mind, I was annoying and bothersome to my friends and family because I could literally do nothing for myself.
I was vulnerable. I didn’t like it all the time, but it was something I dealt with every day.
The reality is, this vulnerability brought me closer to my friends, family, and community. Asking for help opened up conversations and opportunities to learn from those around me. If I hadn’t been vulnerable, these relationships I formed with the people I love, would not have happened.
I remember my first few days in Spruitview I needed to buy Airtime for my phone. Malebo took me out on errands with him and we spent the whole day talking about any and everything. What originally felt like an inconvenience, turned out to be the beginning of a friendship.
I am glad I had the chance to spend a year being vulnerable. I am thankful for the trips to the store, the rides on taxis, and all the other adventures that provided the opportunity for me to talk with and learn from the people around me. If I was able to be independent and take care of my own needs, I never would have formed such deep relationships or learned half as much about life here in South Africa.
I learned this year that it’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s actually good and beneficial to do so because you never know what you are missing out on until you ask. South Africa showed me that If I spend my life avoiding vulnerability, I will never know the opportunities, relationships, and experiences waiting if only I would just let my guard down.
I wrote this blog while I was still in South Africa, but I never ended up posting it. It’s now been almost five months since I arrived home. It seems crazy that time is moving so quickly. I think it was back in January I posted a picture saying “five months in South Africa!”
This blog makes me miss my home in South Africa. Things are so different now that I have my car and my independence back. I wake up, go to work, run any errands I need to, and conclude my day with a half-assed conversation over dinner with my parents.
Reflecting back on my journey in South Africa and reading how I felt when I was so vulnerable, makes me miss that experience. I miss needing to rely on others around me. I miss seeing friends on the street walking to catch my taxi and friendly conversations while buying airtime.
Being fully immersed in the American life, I barely see my best friend except for once a month when we pencil each other into our calendars. I talk to everyone through snapchat or texting because we don’t get to see each other in person. I can go about an entire day doing what I need to do, barely having a conversation with anyone.
While it was so hard to be vulnerable, I look back on the relationships it build and the experiences it brought about, and it makes me want to intentional find new ways to become vulnerable in this new life I’m building here.
