temporary friendships

I have a lovely circle of friends in South Africa. It can be crazy, political and clique-y but also welcoming, accepting and jolly good fun. And then there are the temporary friendships. 

These days I find that I don't always have time for them. Tourists come and go in this area on a fairly standard three day cycle so just as you get past the getting to know each other bit, they're off again to see new places, meet new people and experience new things. Much as I was when I travelled. But when you live in the place people visit temporarily it becomes easier not to bother. Which sounds a bit harsh. But realistic. 

Recently some people have come and stayed for over a week - almost a lifetime in backpacking terms - and it's been nice to make a new friend or two. The likelihood of ever seeing them again is slim to none, but it was fun and didn't involve the usual travel questions; "Where are you from, where have you been, where are you going, what do you do back home, blah, blah, blah". If none of these questions are involved and you still have a decent conversation then you know it's worth the effort.

oddities & absurdities

Rush hour passed through the village this morning. Eight cars in a row came down the dirt road hill.

I had the misfortune of showering with a snake the other day. It stuck its tongue out at me. Gah.

The water went off again today. Actually, that's not odd. That's normal.

It blew hot and cold wind just before an electrical storm of note last week. 

A local man's pure white goose came to live with us temporarily. I thought about Christmas dinner when looking at it.

People think there is wi-fi in a tiny rural village in one of the poorest areas of South Africa. Hah.

Our neighbour has been using the outside braai (BBQ) area as a place to put his rubbish. Why oh why would anyone do that?

I wade through a river to get to the centre of the village. No bridge. Just some piled up rocks that disappear under water during high tide.

Well it’s been a while since I did anything even remotely clever with this blog. Like update it. And it’s been a bit like homework over the long holidays – bugging me as I haven’t done anything about it.

Since my return I’ve been bonding wildly with the other ladies of the village – “Ladies Night” has been promoted to four times a year and brings together a lot of us ladies who are for the most part, outsiders to the village. Some of us are foreign, some of us not, some here for long, some not. But we’re all busy with our own projects and getting together isn’t always easy to organise. But we managed it and had an amazing time.

 

Men are strange creatures and ask us, “so what exactly do you do on ladies night??”. I have no idea what their imaginations are telling them, but it involves eating, drinking lots, talking lots and dancing. We can all struggle here sometimes; cultural differences, living on ridiculously tight budgets, struggling to get supplies (food, medicine etc.) and living sporadically without water or electricity to name but a few. So it’s been good to know that we’re not alone.

On the downside, my lovely little hut got robbed less than a month after I got back – all my electrical gizmos are gone forever – probably sold for next to nothing on a roadside market in the nearest town. It’s been a bit like bereavement for all the emotions I’ve gone through, but as a South African friend of mine pointed out, if this is my only brush with crime after all the time I’ve been coming here then I’m doing well. Doesn’t help all that much but he has a point.

So it’s been good, bad and sometimes ugly but it’s still beautiful, I still have my visa and I will still update my blog!

Happy Birthday Madiba

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delightful blighty

How odd to be back in the UK for only a "holiday". After about ten months of chasing what seemed like the mythical, magical and elusive visa I finally got hold of the little bugger and celebrated. Then came home for a break.

I have lived here, grown up here, been educated here, got on a corporate ladder here, promptly got off the ladder here, boozed, crawled, exercised, languished, loved, hated, laughed, cried, danced, wailed and pretty much anything else you can think of. Here. And I love it. But don't think I can live it. And that is why I'm back just for a bit.

getting all highbrow

So I'm having a highbrow-ish moment back in Blighty and reading "The Consolations of Philosophy" by Alain de Botton. It puts the main theories of philosophical thought into layman's terms which suits me just fine and then applies them to the modern world. Sort of.

I kid you not, the "Happiness, an acquisition list" chapter begins as follows:

"1. A hut."

So I'm nearly there already! Surely.

a new perspective

So yes I did finally get the visa. Close to the day of my last posting about London because it occurred to me that no matter what your passport tells you and no matter what you visa tells you, you are rooted in where you come from. 

The sociological norms and values of your upbringing, the environment around you, the influence of family and friends as you grow up all make you who you are. So I will never be South African. I will always be British. However sometimes I think I will feel both since I have spent a decent amount of time out of the UK. It's rather like a frightfully sane split personality. If that's at all possible.

The visa has brought about a few changes in perspective. I feel more comfortable in South Africa now. Weird. I never felt overly uncomfortable but very aware of my tourist status regardless of the number of years I had spent there on and off. And now? Now I feel a stronger sense of belonging. It helps that the community I live with acknowledges me by name and seems to respect me. Up to a point. So I feel freer. Less stressed about coming and going since I now have visa time on my hands which is a first. 

Although I don't sound overly excited by the whole appearance of a magical sticker in my passport, I really would be a wreck if it hadn't worked out this way. So I'm still getting my head round it and still figuring out what it means to my head. And my life.

London is...

.. the place I grew up. 

Family. 

Friends. 

The stupidly narrow street that I learnt to reverse at speed in. 

The city where I learnt to drive. 

Vibrant. 

Chaotic. 

Rush hour. 

Beautiful blossoms at spring time down this one road in my town. 

The schools and universities I was educated in. 

The jobs good and rubbish that I worked. 

Enjoying the city parks over summer. 

The population pulling a collective sickie on heatwave days and then talking about it on national TV while sunning themselves in the parks. 

Greeting my neighbours that have also lived in the street for many years. 

Seeing yuppies come and go onto the next up and arrived area. 

Walking to dinner at my favourite restaurant. 

Happy hour in the garden with family. 

Pavements not recommended for barefeet. 

Double decker buses full of either old people, drunk people or school kids. 

Talented graffiti. 

Bay windows. 

Cycling at your own risk. 

Driving with the window down and the music pumping. 

Last orders at the bar. 

A maze. 

Black cabs. 

Theatre, ballet, culture. 

Sitting outside on the Southbank. 

My roots. WICF.

Oh my hat. My visa.

If you have a hat. Please doff one in the direction of the “APPROVED” visa. Yet to make it into my passport as I shall be picking it up next week. I have however been reliably informed that it is approved, ready and waiting for collection.

I am over and underwhelmed all at the same time. Until it is stamped somewhere useful like my passport I am not sure I shall believe it. This has been hanging over my sorry little head for the last ten months. What an earth shall I worry about now?!

Bloody hurrah!

overriding aargh

Should find out about the visa in the next two weeks.

Oh my hat.

Gah.

imagine the other

The Wild Coast is an area of outstanding natural beauty with very little development and infrastructure. It is beautiful and full of space to see the sun rise and set without all that much getting in the way.

Imagine going to sleep with the sound of the ocean in your ears and imagine waking up with the same sound knowing it is just a hop, skip and a jump away. Imagine walking to work with a smile on your face greeting everyone that comes across your path and being greeted by them too. Imagine working barefoot in a sarong and still being treated with respect. Imagine going for drink on a hill with friends and watching the dolphins in the waves of the ocean. Imagine picking fruits off the trees and eating them immediately. Imagine the sun shining on your day nearly every day. Imagine a party any day of the week that you fancy. Imagine a sense of belonging even though you know you are an outsider.

Welcome to a bit of my life.

imagine that

Living where I do right now, you begin to appreciate the real difference between the haves and the have nots. Most people are have nots. Unemployment levels are around the 75% mark, literacy rates are less than 50%, access to clean water from a tap is a privilege not a given.

Imagine walking miles with a bucket on your head just to get safe water to cook with and drink. Imagine lighting a fire every time you want to cook and before that, imagine trekking off to the forest to get the wood to make the fire. Imagine being pregnant with all those weird cravings it entails and not having the money to go and buy the foods that will satisfy your cravings. Imagine not knowing when your next meal will be. Imagine going to sleep hungry. Imagine waking up hungry and not being able to eat. Imagine being treated with contempt by visitors just because your skin is a different colour and your English has an accent. Imagine your partner finding the money for beer but not for food.

It’s hard to imagine since most of us have never been there. But I’m starting to get a taste. Not because I am a have not. I am definitely a have around here even though I feel I am struggling a little to make ends meet. But by being with the people who are have nots, by being their friend and listening to their stories, I can imagine. And it’s painful.

Still truckin'

I’m still waiting. The visa application of note is in and awaiting a verdict... It’ll take a while though, so for now I try not to think too much. I think I say this all the time. It’s been such a long process to get it in. I thought maybe two months would cover it. But no. More like seven. Gah.

 In the meantime I have been spending some glorious days on the beach with friends lapping up the sunshine and jumping around in the waves. For the first time in about four years the river is also clean enough to swim in it – it looks divine – turquoise water with the sun sparkling off it.

There is also good news for Sustainable Coffee Bay; the charity that I’m trying to help out a little with funding proposals and whatnot. They had a meeting with a prominent donor organisation and have been invited to apply for funds for their various projects including pre-school education, recycling and entrepreneurship. So we are all currently getting a tad over-excited and draining our brains in the application.

On another note, village life takes some getting used to especially coming from a big city. More on that another time though since I’ve been staring at this screen for far too long.

slow going

Life is beautiful but rather busy these days but the visa is a tad slow going. After numerous false starts, paperwork drownings and general hair ripping, I have finally finally put my visa application in. Bloody hurrah. Now I play the waiting game for the next couple of months, try not to bite my nails, try not to think about the visa or think about what the outcome might mean... Goodness.

happy bugs

Happy new year all! I had a lovely party on new year's eve dancing outside under the stars in the middle of South Africa. Actually, I lie slightly. I was dancing. I was outside. I was and still am in South Africa. But I was under a blanket of cloud, prancing around in the mud and felt like I was at a mini-mud Glastonbury. The whole village was heaving with far too many people (although happily we didn't run out of water, probably 'cos it rained so damn much) and the heavens had been open for a good three days. The ground was saturated with water and I considered a piece of cardboard on my butt to be the most efficient method of moving around the place. Nevertheless it was fun. I saw the first sunrise of the year and then flopped to a well earned sleep. 

Since then the sun has been out, the humidity off the scale and the bugs out in force. I was rudely awoken the other night by some weird crunchy, flappity noises. I turned on the light to find a gecko chowing on a praying mantis on the wall right above my pillow. I slept the wrong way round that night. 

Last night I removed a cricket from my head and tonight I have just removed some other flying noisy bug from my bed. The footprints on my loo have been identified as my boyfriend's as he was trapped in there with a deadly poisonous snake blocking his way out. Although he did make it out somehow. Mosquitos have reacqainted themselves with my flesh, flies like my food and we have little piglets running around looking cute. So it's been random. And wildlike-like around here. 

Oh and the visa? Yep that's still trogging along slowly.