My Best Friend's Wedding

My mother always says romance and candle-lit dinners do not sustain a marriage; being humble enough to say sorry when you believe you are right does.  I have always been cynical about love and marriage and always reserved my opinions on such matters.  Witnessing my best friend get married really challenged my perceptions of relationships and what they represent.  Watching her vow to live the rest of her life selflessly and surrendering her heart completely illuminated the mystery of love I had been working so tirelessly to avoid for most of my life. 

In high school I thought everyone who claimed to be in love was an absolute idiot and foolish for making such hefty declarations that soon after puberty.  I remember thinking, good luck with that Gonorrhea problem you will have to deal with soon.  In one “Life Orientation” class I was one of the three people who did not want to be married one day.  My reason was that I did not want to spend the rest of my life submitting to a man.  My teacher cleverly responded by saying that if I could not submit to a spouse, how would I ever submit to the government or authority figures? 

Well, that did not sway my opinion, because I hate the government and the fifteen year old me had some vile thoughts about overthrowing it in the future.  Also, this is the same government that has a department for women, children and the disabled- when did being a woman be equivalent to having a disability? So truthfully my antagonism towards marriage was just the rising feminist in me trying to find an outlet (perhaps the wrong outlet, but I have had these aspirations fixed in the right direction since then).  Nevertheless, Paul had written some insightful things about singleness in the bible, and I was really exploiting those verses to my advantage.      

I have not always opposed marriage.  I remember throwing a pillowcase over my head and pretending to be a bride when I was hardly five years old.  My friends and I would talk about our weddings for hours.  How many bridesmaids we wanted, the colour scheme, the tiered cake, the song for the first dance, the bouquet, the style of the dress, the centrepieces, the draping, the venue, the hair and the nails, and the GROOM!  Together, we would dream about the ideal man we wished to marry one day.  His looks, his occupation, his hobbies, his bank account, how he would ask you to be his wife.  Fast forward to our twenties and it became his faith, his character, his values, his intellect, how he made you feel, how he would encourage you to achieve your dreams.    

There was the Edward Cullen phase we encountered in our late teens.  He ruined us for all men.  Twilight and every other wedding movie scarred us for life.  Every last one of them fabricated this perfect idea of love.  I regret subjecting myself to Julia Roberts’ flawless beauty, every Bollywood movie I ever watched (that is three hours of singing and dancing for each movie, too many) and Ryan Reynolds’ good heart hidden within a body that looks like it was sculpted by Michelangelo.  When I saw my best friend, behind her veil, with her dad on her side, every romantic comedy just paled in comparison to the reality before my very eyes.  Here is a girl, who is about to walk towards the rest of her life.  She does not know what lies before her, but she trusts the guy waiting on the other side enough to make a commitment that binds them together for the rest of their lives. 

I choose to believe in love stories like that, mostly because they are not love stories, they are love realities.  A love reality where the guy, who is scared out of his mind, but dies for his bride anyway because his love is unconditional… oh wait, that was Jesus Christ, and that happened once for all time.  My best friend did me one last favour as a single woman when she chose to have the Gospel shared at her wedding ceremony.   I realised something that I had previously been goaded into believing for years, only this time it was a revelation I finally knew to be true- marriage is a God thing.  It represents everything Jesus did for us when He died to save us. 

Ephesians 5:31-32 For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.  This is a profound mystery- but I am talking about Christ and the Church. (NIV)

If the love of God is not written all over marriage, then it is no better than some empty Hollywood movie with wooden actors.  Human love is fickle, it changes like the weather, it is flawed and someone’s heart is bound to get broken.  But God’s love, God’s love supersedes human nature; it is eternal, it is unconditional and holds people together.  That is the love reality we should desire for our lives.   

Thank you K, now I understand. J    

Witsie Forever

There are three kinds of students at Wits; the scientists, the politicians and the averages.  After Wits, the scientists, given their extreme journey of acclimatization into society, become less delusional, more socially functional and possibly find religion, or develop a relationship with a person who exists in reality.  The politicians find their political voice, continue to be recipients of a myriad of bursaries and opportunities reserved for the previously disadvantaged and hopefully will lead the country with the wisdom they gained from their practice sessions at this wonderful institution.  The averages become what the scientists once were, only more delusional; they dabble in bouts of erratic substance abuse, lose religion or start blogs- much like this one. They take their extra-mural activities more seriously as opposed to the degrees they are completing, and will hopefully contribute to the success of the economy by hopping onto that hamster wheel, commonly known as the workforce.

There are the exceptions, which remain consistent in their behavior but may delve deeper into who they are and realize that success is directly proportional to loving what you do.  But those are the exceptions; I do not know any of those people, because they are exceptionally rare.  The point is- once you leave Wits, you are much different to who you were when you arrived at Wits.  Which is expected; a lot can happen in 3+ years, a lot of traumatic things that can change a person.

Wits changes the things you value in life.  When my classmates and I finished our theses, we all took pictures of our massive files of research and loaded them onto Facebook.  Normal people do not do things like that.  Normal people do not weigh out the costs of watching a soccer game and reading articles for class.  Normal people do not spend weekends in libraries.  Normal people do not schedule time slots to wash their hair.  It is bad enough being a nerd, realizing it is worse, but out-nerding yourself is just tragic.  It happens to the best of us- it happens to Witsies.

My fondest memories are the ones from res.  When you live with strangers, it does not take too long for you to realize that murdering people because they are too loud is not justifiable, and earplugs are more ideal than prison.  But there are those situations, you did not see coming and before you know it, you have done something you will regret later.  For instance this one time, a drunk girl passed out on my bed.  The situation is this- I thought she had been attacked, so I let her into my room to wait while I got help.  As it turns out, drunk people do not look much different to people who were actually attacked, or maybe I just had not seen a drunk person that close before.

Then there are the "curiosity killed the cat" situations from which I never learn.  Long story short, my friend forced me to watch a video of a woman giving birth- changed my life.  I screamed louder than the woman in the video.  It did not help that my friend paused the video every time I looked away. No one, besides a medical doctor, should ever see that. 

There are the priceless moments, you only live through once.  Sometimes you are blessed and get to experience it twice, like the time(s) we got to watch the All Blacks practice in our yard (The rugby field outside our res, which we can look onto from our bedroom windows, is our yard).  I was lucky to catch them doing the Hakka- they were so intimidating, I almost fell over.  And all the times we were serenaded by an army of men- how many women get to say that?  At res, everyday is a slumber party.  You live with your friends and you stay up late having endless conversations, impromptu karaoke nights and 5 minute study breaks on the fire escape while basking in the presence of the Jozi skyline.  You are never lonely and you are always lucky to watch a game (soccer, cricket and rugby), Sunday movie nights, Idols and soapies (Generations) with an audience. 

As for the brilliant people I met along the way- philosophers, doctors (and dentists) mathematicians, actuaries, architects, accountants, lawyers, economists, engineers (chemical, civil, electrical, mechanical), actors, writers, marketers, artists, biologists, biochemists, pharmacists, scientists (all of them- the ones I mentioned and the ones I forgot to mention), bankers, risk managers, singers, designers, librarians, foreigners, Hindus, Jews, Hinjews, Cancerians, gamers, nerds, poets, elderly people, leaders, followers- those are phenomenal people, all with incredible dreams, radical beliefs and hopes for the future. They painted the most beautiful picture of South Africa I had ever seen.  I was grateful for the friendships that developed with some of these people and I am thrilled to share the company of these fascinating people for the rest of my life. 

Speaking of friends- I remember the day I was dubbed an athlete.  The task of stealing a New Zealand flag hanging on someone’s car was set before me.  It was the year of the rugby world cup, and the challenge was proposed by two friends who agreed that the presence of the flag was unpatriotic.  I was about to pull the flag off and just in time, my friends said, "Ok! Woah woah woah!  It’s fine you’re an athlete you don’t have to do it." You see, I did not get the flag but I was an athlete by virtue of being willing to do the task.    

Us Witsies are often mistaken for being arrogant.  But if you had to measure all the times we faced a near-failure experience and the thousands spent on our "superior" education, coupled with all the times we should have shit ourselves but did not because we were holding onto whatever dignity we had left by a tether; then it is easier to understand the boldness that comes with conquering the edge.  I remember the time I faced my economics marks on the notice board.  I bore no significant emotions and ever since then I have been indifferent about marks.  The lesson is, once you hit rock bottom, you realize that it is just not worth it getting worked up over things of which you have no control.  Also, one can only fall asleep in economics so many times before you realize such greatness has not been thrust upon you.  Besides, when you arrive at Wits, lecturers tell you, "What kind of institution would this be if we had to hand out degrees on silver platters?" Or, "If you are here to get a job, then you are here for the wrong reasons.  You might as well leave and get a job now, because this is a research institution.  We equip students to do ground breaking things, not to find jobs." 

That sums it all up actually.  Imagine you have a five year plan which you strongly believed in and chose to conform to with everything in your power, and then imagine you stumble onto a piece of information that reveals the reality of that plan.  That is Wits- it pulls the rug out from underneath that plan and unearths parts of you, you did not know existed.  You can no longer  adhere to that five year plan, because that would be foolish.  You have to be greater.  You have to be bolder.  And the only direction you can see yourself moving from this point, is upwards.  Towards glory.  You cannot settle for anything less.

The scientists, the politicians and the averages have all learnt the hard way that being exceptional, is exceptional; but possible.  Until then- Challenge Accepted.  I am grateful for my years at Wits and there is just not enough time to write up all the details of my experience, but I carry these memories in my heart.  You have to have your own experience to truly understand the value of being a Witsie, and I was privileged to have that opportunity. 

#RespectTheEdge