From Table Mountain to the Delta: Reflections From Africa

I just got back from spending two weeks in South Africa and Botswana, and I’m still trying to process everything I took in. It was one of those trips where you see a lot, but more importantly, you feel a lot. And not always in a neat or inspirational way. Some moments were grounding. Some were heavy. Some were uncomfortable. All of them stayed with me.

Cape Town and Table Mountain

The trip started in Cape Town. One of the first big moments was climbing Table Mountain. It was physically demanding, but what stood out to me more was how present I had to be. There was no rushing, no checking out mentally. It was just my body, my breath, and the climb. When I reached the top, I didn’t feel accomplished in a “I conquered this” way. I felt small, in a good way. Grounded. Quiet. It reminded me how much I need moments that pull me out of my head and back into my body.

Meeting Christo Brand

One of the most meaningful experiences was meeting Christo Brand. He shared about his relationship with Nelson Mandela in a very human way; not heroic, not dramatic. Just honest. What stayed with me was the reminder that even in systems built on cruelty, people still make choices about how they see one another.

It made me think a lot about dignity, about repair, and about what it actually means to live out values, not in theory, but in daily interactions.

The Wild and Letting Go of Control

Once we moved into the safari portion of the trip, everything slowed down even more.

You wait a lot. You watch. You don’t control the outcome. And that alone does something to your nervous system.

The sunrises and sunsets were stunning, yes, but more than that, they were grounding. The animals moved without urgency. There was no performance. Just life happening.

Doing Things That Scared Me

Two experiences really pushed me outside my comfort zone. The canoe safari felt exposed; quiet water, wildlife nearby, no real separation between us and nature. It required trust and presence.

And then there was the helicopter ride. No doors.

I knew I wanted to do it, but that didn’t make it easy. It was scary. And beautiful. And completely out of my control. I remember thinking, okay, I have to fully let go here.

The Flight Home and Ancestral Memory

The flight back home was fifteen hours: Johannesburg to Newark.

I was flying business class. Comfortable by any modern standard. And still, my body was uncomfortable. Restless. Aware of how long the journey was. At some point over the Atlantic, my thoughts shifted.

I started thinking about my ancestors, about the Middle Passage. About people who crossed those same waters under unimaginable conditions. No comfort. No choice. No guarantee of survival.

I’m Dominican. Caribbean.
My lineage passed through those waters long before I ever did. What I felt wasn’t guilt. It was gratitude.

Gratitude for the sacrifices I didn’t have to make.
Gratitude for the resilience that carried life forward.
Gratitude for the fact that my discomfort was temporary and freely chosen.

It was humbling. And grounding. And deeply emotional.

What I’m Taking With Me

Africa didn’t give me answers.
It gave me perspective.

It reminded me to slow down.
To pay attention to my body.
To respect history, not just intellectually, but emotionally.
To appreciate creation without trying to control it.

I came back feeling quieter inside. More grateful. More aware of how much came before me — and how much I want to live this life with intention.

With love,
Luz

Ancestral Gratitude Prayer

God, thank you to those who came before me.

For their endurance.
For their survival.
For the lives they carried forward despite everything.

Help me live with awareness of that cost.
With gratitude that stays embodied, not abstract.
With humility, reverence, and care.

May I honor them
in how I live,
how I rest,
and how I remember.

Amen.