These friends of mine

I have been blessed throughout my working life to have had wonderful colleagues and mentors; my office in Boston was like a second home, filled with people who really celebrated each other. Some of my most important connections were forged there.

My coworkers on the campaign were the warmest group of people I've ever known. A friend, who joined us midway through, remembers thinking, "who are these hippies who keep laughing and hugging each other?" The office here continues my good luck streak, with nice, smart, funny people who are brightening these data entry days.

My friend Emma has taken me up Devil’s Peak, out for a day trip to the winelands, and on various impromptu lunchtime trips around Cape Town. She has lent me books, made me crunchies (faux healthy cookies), and welcomed me into her life with great warmth. On our way to the winelands, we got lost on a detour and ended up in a suburban housing development, turning down streets that were indistinguishable from each other. Her husband, who was driving, was cursing under his breath; Emma, meanwhile, pointed out the window and said, “look at that rose bush! Isn’t it lovely! And out of season, too! We never would have seen it if we hadn’t gotten lost.” She's no naif, and no stranger to the words that were escaping her husband's mouth, but she was dead serious at that moment. It disarmed everyone in the car.

There too is my friend Liesl, who is passionate about the new South Africa and reconciliation. She actively refuses to be defined by her race, not avoiding any area just because outdated laws have lived on in spirit. And so she has brought me all around the Cape Peninsula, taking me to festivals, comedy shows, hole-in-wall bars, and aimless rambles everywhere from the townships to the ritzy Southern Suburbs. Any time you thank her, she responds with “pleasure!” in the most exuberant voice. It makes me want to thank her all the time.

Linda, who brought me to Khayelitsha a few weeks ago, is a force of goodness. She reminds me of a Gregory Peck quote, about how he woke up every morning trying to be a little more like Atticus Finch: the world would be vastly better if we were all a little more like her. Her work, which considers as somewhat separate from her job, is to heal the spiritual sickness brought on by HIV. She’s not referring to faith healing, or alternative medicine -- she’s talking about addressing the profound sadness that the epidemic has brought to the country. Last week, she brought a room of nurses to tears during a session on the spiritual care of orphans; watching them thank her was a spiritual experience in itself.

I could go on with anecdotes about the people I’ve met, but I’ll close by telling you about my friend Sharon. Another generous and hospitable South African, she regularly invites me over for meals and teas. I say this to highlight her genuine kindness. Upon arriving at a party a few weeks ago, she scanned the crowd, looked at me, and said, “Ahhhh . . . I’m certain that at least 80 percent of the people in this room are narcissists.” I really like her.