Triumph!

I've got about an hour before my next class, and I'm feeling especially content and happy here. The bureaucracy relating to anything remotely-school is ridiculously difficult to navigate, so I've been learning patience and how to make plans A-E, instead of just A B C. Today though, I had a triumph!
I woke up at 7:30, showered, went to get coffee and a croissant for breakfast. It was about 8:30 when I realized that I knew what building the class I wanted to get into today was in, but had no idea which room number. AT ALL. Its a six story building with around 60 classrooms/offices on each floor. So I went to the Department office on the 4th floor, only to find out that the teacher had been thinking about changing the venue, but no one knew whether or not it had moved yet. It turns out it was in the original classroom that was on the ground floor (the 200 wing... cuz that makes sense), but I was first sent to a building 5 minutes biking away that is actually an administration building. I couldn't lock my bike anywhere there, and no other students were walking in (it was right as class should have been starting), so I went to the International Office. I spent 20-30 minutes waiting while the secretary called everyone who might have known about the class, about the venue change, or the teachers cell number. It was finally discovered that it was in the same building as the IO, but the room was yet unknown. Also, it still wasn't clear if that was where the class was moving, or that is where it was. I asked for the teachers office hours (which technically don't exist if you don't have an appointment, but I was bound and determined to get into this class). I got them, went to the library, got some poetry for my soul, and read some papers for my homework. Once the duration of the class had finished, I walked to the building where her office is. I asked in 3 wrong office complexes for her, and finally found the right one. She was out at the moment, so I sat and waited.
I read about some Community Service work that Stellenbosch is doing, including a Saturday school. Finally, Vuyo, the elusive Xhosa teacher, walked through the door. She asked me to follow her, I misunderstood, and stayed sitting. Then I heard her say, come here my dear. So I went around the corner I had seen her go through.
Here comes the triumph part:
I walked in, she asked if I was an international student (also triumph- I am tan enough to be SAn), asked how I was, I asked how she was. She asked if I wanted into the class. i said yes. She asked me to write my name and student number on a sheet of paper. She asked if I knew people in the class that I could get notes from. I said yes. She said, I will give you a Xhosa name. It will be... hmm... ah.. no... yes. this. it will be Nomahle. Which means power. She said she will e-mail me the notes, there is no textbook and I will see her in class on Thursday. Another woman in the office asked me if I knew Amandla! and I said yes, the revolutionary cry. She said yes, the two words are related. I grinned and said thank you to both of them.
It took all of 2 minutes. It was the most gratifying feeling to walk out of that office and have everything feel like it was taken care of. It was only 11:30!