The Final Chapter

Well, I'm currently sitting in my house in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, staring out into my backyard and the snow as I type this.

Let's recap for a moment: I shouldn't even be in Pittsburgh until the end of this week, but alas, weather delays and such forced a flight change.

We left the SHAWCO house in Cape Town around 7pm their time to head towards the airport for a 10 pm flight. It was bittersweet to leave. Like I've said previously, I miss my family and friends, but I had no desire to leave South Africa.

We made it to London an hour ahead of schedule (So, instead of an 11 hour flight it was only 10). Which of course meant our four hour layover became even longer. Which was whatever, I was able to relax and get some writing done.

The flight from London to Chicago was the longest. flight. ever. Which is ironic because it was about three hours shorter than the one to London. It felt like that flight took forever. The only saving grace was that we flew over Greenland (Again, no idea why, but we flew up to around Iceland, Greenland, over Quebec, and then over Michigan to Chicago). It was really cool to see some of the mountains of Greenland and the snow.

Then, Chicago. We got in and we were supposed to have a couple hour layover and then catch our flight home to Cleveland. So we went through passport control, and I was kind of worried about Customs. Everyone says that Customs is the worst thing in the world when you travel internationally. It was my time, and I handed the dude my passport and declaration form (if that's what you call it). He looked at me, and said "Study Abroad?". I replied yes, he looked at me, down to the passport picture, stamped the paperwork, and said "Welcome back". See, nothing to worry about.

So we had to reclaim our bags and re-check them with American Airlines. I get to the area and read the flight board. Flight to Cleveland? Cancelled. Sounds about right.

It's funny because my sister, Kirby, studied abroad in Italy two summers ago, and when she came back, her flight from New York to Pittsburgh was cancelled. Keeping the family streak alive!

So people in our group started freaking out about being stuck in Chicago (especially because the earliest flight according to the lady at the desk would be on Tuesday night. At this point, it's 5pm Chicago time on Sunday). I read the board and see that the flights to Pittsburgh are still on time. So I asked my professors if there was a way I could switch my ticket, and lo and behold, I can. So the lady at the desk tells me "You better start running to terminal 3." I say, "What do you mean? Didn't I get on the 7:30 flight?" Her response? "No, you have the 5:35 flight". Oh, fun.

So I give a very quick and no way near acceptable good-bye to the group and start running towards the escalator that will take up-stairs to the transit I need to take to Terminal 3, a good 5 minute transit ride away. Once I get off at Terminal 3, I had to run to the gate and go through Security, which I got through in a minute flat (mainly because I'm tearing my belt off and throwing keys and my wallet in my bag as I'm running, but hey). Which didn't even matter because I got to the gate at 5:20ish, but we didn't board until 6ish. And we sat on the tarmac for a good two and a half hours waiting for a de-icing truck. But it eventually came and we were on our way to Pittsburgh.

Walking out of the door of Pittsburgh International Airport was the toughest thing I think I've done. It was more than stepping back onto American soil for the first time in 2 months. It meant I was home: My trip, my adventures in the unknown, was over. Stepping out of that door meant I was staying put.

It feels weird to be home, like I shouldn't be here. Maybe it's what they call  'reverse culture shock', but everything feels different. Maybe I just need to settle back into the groove of things.

When I close my eyes, I'm back overseas: Walking through the Bogside, going home from work at the Pat Finucane Centre. Standing on the edge of a cliff at Giant's Causeway. Singing in a pub. Walking through the Townships. Standing on a cliff at the Cape of Good Hope. Standing on the top of Table Mountain, overlooking Cape Town.

It's definitely going to take some used to the fact that I'm not in Northern Ireland or South Africa anymore.

To the people in Northern Ireland I had the pleasure and honor of meeting, you taught me that sometimes you have to fight for the truth. To fight for what's right. To have fun and come together as a community.

To the people in South Africa I had the pleasure and honor of meeting, you taught me the value of relationships: family, friends, community. You showed me the true meaning of Ubuntu, something that I would have never understood if I hadn't seen it in person.

To my classmates on the trip with me, Thank You. Thank you for making this trip as awesome as it was. Thank You for being you, for being honest and putting your whole self into this experience. We've become a family, and I truly hope that the relationships that were formed carry on outside of the trip.

With that, I sadly hate to write that I think my blogging from these adventures is over. My tale has no more chapters left, no more cool places to visit. Writing everything down, telling you my story as it happened, has helped keep me sane these past two months. It helped me organize my thoughts, vent frustrations, reflect on the events that occurred. And it'll be a book I can read time and time again, and I'll be able to relive my adventures.

Who knows, maybe I'll write my other upcoming adventures in this blog.  You can never have to many Adventures into the Unknown.  That's where you find out who you are, what kind of person you've become.

Northern Ireland, South Africa,
Until our paths cross once more and we meet again:
Cheers, Enkosi Kakuhle, and Salani Kakuhle