South Africa

“Slowing Down”

In education we are pros at being flexible, planning for all situations, and executing the unexpected pivot. And after our whale watching tour was canceled yesterday, and we had to rearrange our flights today, we continued to execute those skills. 

The whole crew as we say goodbye to Andrew and David, our beloved guides.

Instead of heading to the airport to fly to Cape Town, we spent another day on the eastern part of South Africa, heading into iSimangaliso Wetland Park for a game drive. The extra day allowed us to slow down, and to practice “zen” birding instead of the “extreme” birding we engaged in with David in Wakkerstroom. In iSimangaliso we watched birds hover in the strong head winds, staying still instead of flying off to a destination. We also finally saw a Martial Eagle, a majestic bird that had been mentioned throughout the trip, but not yet seen. Our morning of zen birding reminded us to slow down and to appreciate the little things in life. 

While in iSimangaliso we also saw and caught a Giant Dung Beetle that was flying around, and was able to reflect on his purpose. He uses what most discard (feces) and in turn is able to recycle those nutrients and help build and grow its landscape. Such a tiny creature brought us so much joy, as it was one of the animals we’d missed seeing while in Kruger National Park. We’ve seen and appreciated many of the big things, and today we were able to focus on the tiny miracles. 

A Giant Dung Beetle. These insects fly so haphazardly that they sometimes literally crash land to the ground – providing great opportunities for closer exploration!

After our game drive we headed south to a suburb of Durban, where we could see the majestic Indian Ocean and experience the hustle and bustle of a city. Here we had time to explore and relax, and continue to get to know each other and South Africa. 

In life when you are constantly moving it’s easy to forget that while the big things matter, the little things matter too. In fact, in many cases those little things are the things that TRULY matter. 

As our time here is coming close to an end, we are taking in every last moment, both big and small. We are reflecting on what we have experienced and been through, but also on what has changed in us and the difference we can make when we return home. With only a few days left we are treasuring each and every one of these slow, intentional moments. 

Slowing down and appreciating the beauty of iSimangaliso Wetland Park.
South Africa

“Burnt Toast Theory”

Burnt toast theory states that minor inconveniences can turn out to be blessings in disguise, and today highlighted this for us. 

This morning we started with a much more than minor inconvenience when we arrived to breakfast to find out that it was too windy to go whale watching. This was a bucket list item for almost every one of us, and when it was confirmed that we couldn’t go and that it couldn’t be rescheduled, there were actual tears for some of us. It felt like a major loss. 

We pivoted like we have had to do several times on this trip, and went on a bird walk before heading to the beach instead. During our walk I kept waiting for something fun and magical to confirm that missing whales was worth it. And I couldn’t see it. Then we walked down to the beach, put our toes in the sand, collected shells, and tiptoed into the icy Indian Ocean. 

How do you explore a new beach and ocean? Synchronized cartwheels in the sand!

Something we’ve noticed about this trip is that we are being required to slow down. Fast food isn’t what we’re used to. Chick-fil-A gets your meal to you with a “my pleasure” in less than 5 minutes. That’s not happening here, as it takes closer to 20. Restaurant service is even longer, and meals come 2-3 at a time. We find ourselves being impatient, trying to speed up processes. Then we talk about it with each other and realize how much we actually ENJOY slowing down. We ask ourselves what it would be like if we stopped rushing when we get home and if we didn’t put so much pressure on ourselves and each other. 

Our time is quickly coming to an end and we are all feeling excited to see our families and homes. We are also feeling the pressure of life that awaits us. How can we find the balance of the calm we’ve found here with all that comes with returning home? We’ve watched South African sunrises and sunsets, taken long morning walks with giraffes and coffee, shared dinner with rhinos, and made memories with new friends. We have seen and felt so much here: joy, astonishment, love, fullness, and more that we can’t wait to take back to our families. When we go home we will be spread across the state, hours apart, no longer in dorm style bedrooms, sharing bathrooms and group dinners. We have met people who will now be our best friends, and now we will be apart. 

Flavia, Michael, Christine, and Andrew on a windy St. Lucia beach.

Tonight’s sunset happened in the company of a hippo family. I think we can learn something about how to approach going home from them: 

“Hippos, despite their size, offer subtle yet powerful lessons on embracing imperfection, finding peace in stillness, and maintaining healthy social bonds”.   

Three lessons were impressed upon us as we watched these graceful animals:

  1. Embrace the mud and find comfort in imperfection. Hippos spend much of their time in mud, which represents the messy, imperfect parts of life. 
  2. Submerge yourself and find peace in stillness.  Hippos are comfortable both in and out of the water, symbolizing the importance of finding moments of peace and quiet in our busy lives. 
  3. Know your people and make time with them. Celebrate and protect each other. 

Our guides and drivers, Andrew and David, are leaving in the morning. Tonight we spent time reflecting on our highlights with each of them. At the end of the night Andrew said, “magic has happened here.” Each day in South Africa has been magic. We have been so blessed. We didn’t get to see whales today on the boat. But, we got to spend precious time slowing down together. Laughing, eating delicious food, and celebrating each other. We have just a few more days left before we get to bring this magic home. We can’t wait to slow down and share the sunrises and sunsets with you. 

A sunrise in St. Lucia.
South Africa

“Meeting the Indian Ocean”

During the car ride today we were a bit more subdued than usual. The hearty breakfast and the quiet thrill of seeing ostriches, white rhinos, wildebeest, and giraffes had lulled us into a peaceful, drowsy state. As the landscape slowly shifted—from mountainous grasslands to dense forest, and finally to the sandy soil of a coastal town—there was a quiet reverence among us, a growing anticipation.

A morning bush walk before hitting the road for St. Lucia.

We arrived at Ndiza Lodge, our home for the next few days, and excitement buzzed through the group. Some were eager to explore the shops in St. Lucia, while others—my group—felt the pull of the ocean. We quickly split up, each group setting off in pursuit of a different kind of discovery.

The beach group set out with enthusiasm, eager to lay eyes on the Indian Ocean. As we neared the shore the air turned salty and fresh, the sound of crashing waves grew louder, and then suddenly, the ocean revealed itself—raw, powerful, and utterly breathtaking. The waves thundered against an expansive shoreline, while to the right, South Africa’s tallest sand dunes rose like giants. It was unlike anything we had ever seen back home in North Carolina.

We ran down the boardwalk and dipped our toes into the icy surf, laughing at the cold and marveling at the majesty before us. Some of us searched for birds or seashells; others simply wandered the shoreline. We spotted a ghost crab scurrying up the sand, and for a while we were lost in nature’s wonder. But amid the beauty, our joy was tinged with sadness—plastic waste littered the shore. Quietly, a few began picking it up, and we shared our frustration: how can a place so awe-inspiring be treated so carelessly? It was a sobering reminder of man’s impact, and yet the ocean remained—vast, wild, and humbling.

Meanwhile, the intrepid shoppers cautiously trekked into town from the beautiful lodge, casting wary glances for any lurking hippos—a real possibility in St. Lucia. None were spotted, so they continued on, weaving through the streets and exploring local stalls. The town offered a vibrant mix of culture and craftsmanship. There were so many beautifully made goods, and many of us regretted that our suitcases were already bulging with souvenirs. The artisans were talented and proud of their work, happily sharing stories and smiles. Bartering was met with laughter and good-natured exchanges, and the whole experience felt like a joyful dance between traveler and host. It was more than shopping—it was a warm, human connection that left us smiling long after we left the stalls.

Exploring St. Lucia.

In the end, both groups reunited with arms full of treasures and hearts full of gratitude. Whether basking in the raw power of the ocean or chatting with local artists under a warm coastal breeze, we all felt deeply moved. We were grateful—for the beauty, for the connection, and for this incredible experience that reminded us of both nature’s grandeur and our responsibility to protect it.