This is the story of how we begin to remember.

Well here it is... the last few moments of this journey.

We filled our last morning with a tour of the oldest township in South Africa, The Langa Township. It was here that I saw what I expected to see when I arrived here 3 weeks ago. A community of about 80,000 people all living in what was described as "below poverty" but also people who were so welcoming and eager to teach us of their culture. Our tour guide showed us his home, probably the size of my living room at home, which he shares with 27 others. He showed us the traditional african healer in the community, the place where they prepare boiled sheep heads, and the place where they brew their own beer. I knew this was going to be a different place because while we were being introduced to the tour and given the rules and told what to expect, we heard the sounds of what seemed like a giant celebration. Our guide quickly informed us that it was a funeral. The sounds mimicked those that would come in a time of happiness, and it immediately showed the strong spirit of the township. He told us of the "initiation" all men must go through at the age of 18, of which I will not share the details on here because I don't think many would appreciate it. He also showed us the center where many locals create their own artwork and clay pieces and where a band practices. I got to drum with an African band today. Now Steve, when you finally get to read this I want you to know that I was nervous to get up in front of everyone but I immediately thought of you and how you would be right up there and so I did it and it was one of the best moments of my life.

So as these experiences turn to memories, and the comforts of home are so close within reach, I can't help but wonder what I will think most about on the first day of classes, next month, or even in 10 years. I believe that the children's faces with be burned in my brain forever and the sense of pride and all the other indescribable feelings I have from this trip will never fade.

See you tomorrow Mom & Dad... you can finally breathe. <3