You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late. –Ralph Waldo Emerson

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After my eyes adjusted to the blinding light that beamed through the frosty airplane window, I finally saw land. It had been a little over 24 hours since I had left Los Angeles. I looked out of the small window and saw patches of greenery. Looking at some patches that lhoused large buildings and residential structures, I doubted if I was in South Africa. However, every small patch was surrounded by plots of barren undeveloped yellow and brown lands. This pattern occurred many times. Amidst one of the empty lands, I saw one a huge oval structure: one of the World Cup 2010 soccer stadiums. From the distinct oval rim shape and red design, I knew this stadium was the one in Soweto. This meant that Johannesburg was close.

I was dreading to leave the flight and go through customs. I had heard stories about the corruption at the South African airport as staff would apparently go through your bags and even ask for bribes. I approached the customs area and followed the sign pointing to “Other Passports”, meaning non- African passports. I took my place at the end of the cue. To my surprise, the lined moved fairly quickly and in 15 minutes I was handing the customs agent my passport. He asked me my purpose for visiting and I replied I was visiting my grandparents in Fordsburg for 10 weeks. He looked at my passport again and asked me to smile. I smiled and so did he. He handed me back my passport and with a gentle smile said, “Tell your family I said hi.”

Driving from the airport, I saw toll road structures every so often. Although each structure emitted bright blue and purple lights, they were not in use. People drove past them as if they didn't exist. The South African government built these toll roads and told South Africans to register their cars by a given deadline or else they would be fined. By the deadline, 400,000 cars had been registered. However, there are 11 million cars in South Africa. The government office could not handle the sheer amount of fines that needed to be given out, so the mission was aborted. My grandfather said it would be ridiculous to have to pay for toll roads as they already pay 40% of their income to taxes. With no safe and reliant mode of public transportation available, it would be ridiculous to ask South African residents to pay for this additional tax.

After unpacking my bags, I grabbed my camera and walked out to the balcony. My grandparent’s house is in Fordsburg. Although it’s a residential suburb, there are numerous shops and factories also housed in the district. The majority of residents and businesses in Fordsburg is culturally dominated by Indian and Pakistani South Africans.

Avoiding trouble at the airport and meeting friendly South Africans, I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my internship.

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