This is what I remember. It was winter, and we were on winter break. I was in third, maybe fourth grade. Our grandmother was visiting, and she was legendary for her cooking. And her baking. Our parents were at work, and she was baking away in the kitchen. I'd been hanging out, hoping for left over brownie batter. It doesn't get much better than having warm freshly grandmotherly-baked brownies on a wintery Colorado day during school break. Well, maybe it would have been better had the brothers not been around and I'd gotten both of the beaters and the brownie batter.
But I remember watching her put away the chocolate as she cleaned up the kitchen while perfection was cooking in the oven. And I made a mental note to remember where the chocolate had been stashed. And enjoyed knowing that the brothers didn't know about this secret stash. And at the opportune time, when the house was quiet, I made a break for the goods.
It's the anticipation of chocolate that I like. Knowing that I'm going to be enjoying one of the most pleasurable tastes of sweetness. Taking a bite of chocolate and letting the chocolate melt as the butteriness of the flavor comes to life is as blissful as that first sip of a great cup of coffee.
That's the level of sweetness that I felt on Friday. I was in my surrogate home, the place which has been my refuge while here in Jozi. S&S and I were setting up for my farewell braai (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Braai), and Scott and I were talking about what I was looking forward to, when I get back to the US. And how sweet it will be to see my family and friends again.
As I grabbed the bakers chocolate, I took off a piece, for eating the whole thing would raise suspicion. And with that first bite, the shock of the bitterness of Bakers Chocolate was an unwelcome surprise to the expected sensation of sweetness.
Why the hell would there be such a thing as "bitter sweet." And why wouldn't they make that more clear on the damn package.
Why the hell would there be such a thing as "bitter sweet." And why wouldn't they make that more clear on the damn package.
I came here to Jo'burg this year, and had one simple goal. I wanted to learn about TB, HIV, and pediatric malnutrition. Those were the absolute goals. There were other minor goals, but those only involved travel plans. As we sat around and ate Friday, I realized that this year has been far more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. I remember those first few weeks when I arrived here, having a few contacts from mutual friends, but having not really met people, and thinking that it would be a monk-ish year, filled with days at the hospital, then evenings of going to the gym, then reading about patients in the evening.
I would have never imagined that Jo'burg would become home. And that the emotions of preparing to depart are emotions I last felt almost 9 years ago when I left Colorado. The work has been rewarding in ways that are much different from practicing medicine back in the US. But on Friday, I realized that I've been fortunate to amass a beautiful collection of friends. And as I've thought about my impending departure, I though about how much I'm going to miss them. On Friday, my friends were South Africa, Dutch, Swiss, Spanish, Argentinean, American, British, Belgium, (and maybe one or two that aren't coming to me right now). And there I was surrounded by my closest friends as we had a farewell Braai The mixture of friendship, feast, and wine was perfect.
Like the bakers chocolate, there was bitterness. Bitter that I'm leaving this behind. The friendships will continue, the work will be here shall I be able to return in the future, but all of a sudden I find that I am not ready to head back to the US, and slightly bitter that my departure is now less than a week away...
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