I feel like a young tree that’s been repotted in new soil, new exciting environmental conditions, and pruned to the branch in order to survive the great transition from Africa to Europe.
My favorite and familiar natural habitat, best friends, loving family and the carefully planned daily routines, under which I recieved so much shelter and safety for my well nestled South-African excistence, are no more. I’ve been uprooted and I’ve finally reached somewhat of a stabilizing point where I’ve processed just enough to let you guys in on what has been the most adventurous and trying time of my life.
As many of you know I was pretty well settled in the comfort that came from the close to perfect big city life my small town heart has been blessed with. The moments I got to savor whilst watching the sunrise from my cute little balcony, teaching students from across the country, having my dream job as a Makeup Lecturer and being around my nearest and dearest was enough to keep my cup in overflow – until one normal Wednesday afternoon during my first Seattle coffee break, when I realized that my unyielding thirst for life and adventure are not really being satisfied and everything I’m pouring my time into isn’t giving me what I need to feel like I’m making the most of my earthly experience.
According to the boxes society gave me to tick, my life looked exactly as it should at a whopping 26. But, I wanted more. More freedom. More challenges. More money. More stimulation and more of this extraordinary world I am lucky enough to live in. Unfortunately life doesn’t work like that, we don’t ask for more and then sit back whilst the universe molds the perfect porthole to an ocean of everlasting happiness. We must hustle for it and man did I gain a few grey hairs by deciding to re-write my story in the midst of a crashing economy and global pandemic.
When everyone around me started to lose their jobs due to the devastating rippling effects of Corona, I tried to convince myself that the sensible thing to do was to hold onto my safety nest and rather not gamble with my golden eggs, but everything inside of me urged to challenge the odds against the new goal of becoming a stewardess on a superyacht in the country I’ve always dreamed of running around with childlike abandon, Europe. Becoming a stewardess would be a stepping stone to what I want, which is ultimately endless horizons of cultures, diversity, beautiful places and dream-like unknown territory.
The idea came to a thrilling bursting point and I already started to feed from the rewards I could get by throwing myself into a risky adventure that came with a obvious policy of zero guarantees. This way of approaching life has always given me the freedom to trust my instinct, despite the challenges. In fact, give me the challenges because this life is something I need to make my own, and I’ve always liked to do so without the fears that came from mental restrictions.
Of course I faced countless objections, but none of them felt impossible to at least try to power through, so on that normal Wednesday coffee break – with my favorite coconut laté in the one hand and my red marking pen in the other, I started to map out the way to my dreams, because right then and there I knew there was no coming back from the decision I clearly made. I need to quit my job, get out of the contract that binds me to my apartment, sell all my furniture, give away at least 80% of my clothes and strip myself lose from any and all materialistic things that would make the load heavier when I drive across the country to Cape Town, where I’ll obtain all the necessary marine qualifications to only dip my toe in a ocean of challenges that only got bigger the deeper I dove.
The emotional challenges along with the practical logistics to let go from the life I knew was just the first few steps of what started to feel like an endless marathon. After months of saving and getting rid of my earthly collateral, I drove down to Cape Town to complete my studies. On the first day of class after trying to get use to being a student again, I got reminded by one of the hindering facts I was already well aware of. South-Africans are currently in a tricky catch 22 and the regulations for international traveling changes frequently due to our infections rising at a ridiculous speed.
By this time I already quit my job, I’m out of my apartment and my entire wardrobe is scattered between girls that jumped at the opportunity to clear out my beautiful little walk in closet. Our STCW Lecturers admired our bravery for pursuing the industry in such uncertain times but they also made no secret of the fact that we might end up using our newly obtained qualifications within the borders of a locked down country. “Boats will not recruit now anyway, especially when you’re labeled 50 shades of green”, they said with one eyebrow raised.
My dreams of venturing down the dreamy streets of some European city burned down infront of my eyes as they got set to light by solid facts the optimist in me couldn’t even argue with. However, I stayed positive and I didn’t stop dreaming of the life I wanted. I didn’t entertain negative thoughts and I hoped that somehow, by a sheer miracle, I would be recruited by a boat, preferably in France, Spain or Italy. I spent my entire time in Cape Town sight seeing, studying till late, keeping tabs on the agonizing international restrictions and tried to remind myself that although it feels like I’m lost in a desert of absolute uncertainty, I’ve come this far and all I need to do is give it my best freaking shot. “No risk, no story”, is the main theme of the TED talks I gave myself to refrain from triggering my first possible nervous breakdown.
I wrote my 10th and final exam, with no job to look forward to, no visa, no employment contract and no plan – due to this damn virus you need a visa to be taken seriously by agents, but you can’t apply for a visa without an employment contract at the moment either. So with the frustration that came from being stuck between a rock and a hard place, I went on a online head hunt for Captains that I could email personally, with the hopes of finding one gracious enough to recruit a freshly graduated, inexperienced little greenie from a country giving birth to of course, new covid strains. Finally, my stars aligned and I managed to land a interview with a Captain. After a mountainous amount of effort and administrative agony, I am grateful to finally have my visa and call the Captain I told my story to, my own. My oasis came and I couldn’t be happier knowing that I’ll soon be drinking from the wells in Italy.
After doing all of the above and surviving atleast one and a half anxiety attacks a day, I finally had the chance to fit what was left from the impromptu garage sale into a big maroon suitcase and do what no amount of time could ever prepared me for, saying goodbye to my loved ones. This was by far the hardest part of it all. I don’t even let myself think back about the last day I saw my loving Mother and family, all eyes were bloodshot and I remember that within those moments of finality doubt creeped in. I did it. I pushed through all the odds, I overcame the challenges, I worked hard, sacrificed my nest but am I really ready to leave the people I love behind.
Luckily, I am blessed with the most amazing flock of birds any impulsive wild child could ask for. I’ve always been the unpredictable sibling, but they never threw water on my wings because of it. They’ve always embraced me in my extremity, just like they did on that last day at the airport. As heartbreaking as it was to greet my family without knowing when I’ll see them again, I had to run for the departure of the final jump. I almost missed my plane due to an overdose of the emotions that came from knowing these are my last moments of familiarity. As the city lights of my homeland started to dim further and further away, I started to shed my own saltwater in galons of gratefulness and disbelief.
At long last, I was on my way to Italy, to dive into the first of many awaiting chapters to one of my biggest dreams, international chivalry. Although my heart was heavy, I found comfort in knowing that life is like a desert, you only regret the oasis you didn’t drink from and boy was I ready to soak up every single drop of my new journey at sea.