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14
December 2001
Back
in the Cape
It's
a cloudless, hot day in the Cape. Early this morning already the mountains
were hazy with the promise of the heat to come, and False Bay lies flat
and stunningly blue in the distance.
This
column is a difficult one for me, because it has to be done from a
completely new perspective, so please bear with me!
Being
back where I have spent some many years brings with it a potpourri of
emotions. it is good to see the mountains again, to smell the fragrance of
the eucalyptuses and of the privet blooms just outside the door. But
there's sadness, too, because I miss my wonderful green island and all my
friends there. Strange, isn't it, how the heart so often is not where the
body finds itself? Then, of course, there is all the uncertainty of the
near future for me, but that is something one has to get used to.
Many
things here have not changed at all in my absence. Stories of carjackings
one hears all the time, and everybody complains about crime and the
exchange rate. But South Africans are still as friendly and as
open-hearted as ever. Unlike in Europe, nobody finds it strange to smile
at strangers, or to start a chat with a completely unknown person! Even in
the busiest shopping malls there are smiles to be seen everywhere...and
given all the complaints one hears, that is something wonderful and to be
cherished.
Now
for some good news, if you will bear with me for a few seconds! I have
been negotiating with a local travel agency and the agency with which I
was working in Ponta Delgada in the Azores, and we are compiling a tour
package to the island of Sao Miguel for next year. This is just an advance
warning for those of you who might be interested. What we are planning is
a 6-night, 5-day stay, with guided tours to all the sights on the island,
etc. At the moment we are looking at going in March or April, and the
cost, including airfares, bed and breakfast accommodation, transport and
all tours on the island, should be less than R9 000 from Cape Town. So, if
you are interested, please contact me. I will be your tour leader and
guide there, so I will be able to share my love of the place with
you! We should have more concrete details for you very soon, so please
watch this space!
Christmas
for me this year is going to be a summer one again. In Ponta Delgada all
the lovely Christmas lights are already up in the streets and the shops
are almost all open till ten at night (apart from the hypermarkets, which
normally stay open to ten six nights a week). The narrow cobbled streets
are abuzz with shoppers enjoying the fresh winter air. Christmas there is
certainly very different from here, and in fortunately not yet as terribly
commercialised as elsewhere.
But
before that there are the elections for local authorities... polling day
is on December 16, and it promises to be a very interesting election
indeed, and a tough test for the ruling Socialist Party (PS) in many
areas, as the Social Democrats (PSD) have been doing quite well in the
opinion polls thus far. The Communists, Greens, the far left CDU and the
conservative PP/CDS will, one supposes, pick up some minor crumbs again,
but it is doubtful whether they will be able to drum up enough support to
win anything more than a parish council within some of the municipalities.
This leaves the main battle to be fought between the moderate left PS and
moderate right PSD. Of course, in many municipalities, the elections will
be more of a battle of personalities, with some mayors almost sure to
retain their positions, given a good track record since the previous
elections as well.
That
is about all for this time. What remains is to wish all of you a very
blessed and happy Christmas. may it be a safe one and filled with love. A
special wish to all of you who have become my friends through this column;
your friendship is something I treasure very much indeed.
Take
good care of yourselves and all your loved ones.
Mooiloop
and the best of all wishes!
*****
21
January 2002
Taking
stock
Boertjie
has been back in South Africa for more than a month now, and it is time to
take stock of the plusses and minuses of life here.
I
will always love this country very deeply, after all it is the place of my
birth and the place in which I was formed as a human being. There is no
getting away from those deeply-ingrained influences that the land of one's
origin has on one. But once one has been out of the country for a while
and had the opportunity to experience different cultures and mores, one
does tend to look on the country with a different gaze. So what follows is
not a litany of complaints; on the contrary I would appreciate it if my
fellow South Africans who live and stay here will see my comments as my
own modest suggestions for a better South Africa.
The
first thing that struck me are the clear skies at night. So many stars
seemingly close enough to touch. Living on an island in the middle of the
Atlantic, one does not often have such cloudless skies, so being back here
means rediscovering the incredible starry nights I grew up with. They
lift one's spirit, but also bring a renewed awareness of how small we are,
yet how incredibly fortunate to live in such a beautiful universe. And
with these skies, whether by day or by night, comes the sense of oneness
with one's own past.
Good,
too, to see white beaches shimmering in the sun, the deep blue of the
brooding mountains and tea-hued mountain streams, and fynbos. Good to hear
one's own language (Afrikaans or English, in my case) spoken with the
characteristic accents of the Cape. Good to ride one's bicycle past a
total stranger who greets one as if he really does wish one a good
morning. The people of the Cape (at least, seeing as I haven't spent time
anywhere else in SA) are as friendly as ever. This is especially so in the
case of the poorer members of our community; somehow, despite (or is it
because of?) all their hardships, they have not lost sight of the value of
friendliness. Good to have a really big cup of coffee instead of the
small doses so common on the island (mind you, I managed to get the
waiters or waitresses in all my favourite coffee shops to make my coffe
they way I like it!). Good to be able to drink rooibos tea again, have
Marmite or golden syrup (and biltong, if you can afford it!). And good to
be able to watch some cricket again! Yes, I know the test series against
Australia was enough to dive one to an overdose of witblits! but at least
the one-day games are cheering us all up again. The only problem with
watching cricket is that one either needs satellite TV or MNet, which
excludes a vast part of the population, and that's a shame, especially if
the game's administrators want all groups in SA to take cricket more
seriously for the benefit of the sport in the long term. And I will not
say anything about the interference of politicians in the sport... Good,
too, to find that the cost of living here is still relatively low. I said
"relatively", OK?
And
South African women are still among the most beautiful in the world!
What
about the minus side? I have found that South Africa is still really not
geared to tourists -- not nearly as much as we should be. Try and find a
public toilet in smaller towns! And if you do, it often takes
unadulterated bravery -- or absolute necessity -- to enter these reeking,
dirty holes. The larger shopping centres are fine, yes, but in the whole
of Somerset West, for example, the only sign I have been able to find that
refers to public toilets is in a small café and that said "NO PUBLIC
TOILETS!". The only facilities are in one shopping centre that's
locked after hours.
We
do not make it easy for visitors to draw money, either. On the island, as in
Mainland Portugal, there are ATM's on virtually every street
block. And no matter where you bank, all these accept all standard credit
or debit cards -- free of charge! I have found that one really only needs
a credit card with a PIN when travelling in Portugal and the Azores; no
need for traveller's cheques or to try and find a foreign exchange desk.
And once they have their money the poor tourists are confronted with
our short shopping hours! You cannot spend the day sightseeing and then
still expect to be able to go and buy some beer or foodstuffs at a
supermarket. That is what is so marvellous on the island: the super and
hipermarkets are open until ten pm every day except Sundays, when they
close at two. And even then there are plenty of smaller shops where one
can buy anything from toothpicks to 15-year-old whisky until late at night
every night of the week. And the fact that liquor is freely available from
even the smallest little village shop has not turned the Azoreans into a
nation of alcoholics, either! I suppose it's all a matter of education,
really...
Our
public transport seems to have deteriorated exponentially since I was here
last, and that is sad. Not all visitors can or always want to hire cars.
Outside Cape Town, for example, buses seem to be as extinct as the
dinosaurs. Those there are are either overcrowded or too dangerous or
both. Same goes for the suburban railways. And then Metrorail in the Cape
cancels 84 trains just when the workers go back after their Christmas
holidays and just when the foreign tourists start to arrive in earnest!
The reason given? "Our workers need a holiday"! A wee drap o'
planning seems to be needed, eh what?
What
I also find very sad and discouraging is the pervasive discrimination
going on in the job market. I am as ready as anyone to plead for
equal opportunities and (in its best form) affirmative action. But what
does not make sense to me is the fact that, given the high unemployment,
there seem to be far too few opportunities for people who really want to
work. If a highly qualified, highly skilled diesel mechanic, for example,
cannot find new employment after his previous boss went bankrupt, there
must be something wrong. And the newspapers are full of wanted ads for his
line of work. Problem is he is over forty! The youngsters and the older,
experienced workers in this country are getting a terribly raw deal! So,
whatever the noble reasons behind it, there is far too much gender, age
and race discrimation still around. One good thing about it, though, is
that it has encouraged a great deal of private incentive.
Too
many people here also seem to suffer from the fast-buck mentality. This
applies from the multitude of get-rich-quickly schemes (where it seems
only their authors get rich) all the way up to ploiticians. And of
course our political scene is very lopsided -- has been for what seems
ever -- with no real opposition, no tolerance for earnest and well-meaning
criticism .... and too much bickering amongst the opposition parties.
There is also a widespread lack of competition, hence the high cost of
internet access, not to mention many other essential services and
products. I am NOT going to say a word about crime!
Here
comes the saddest part! Those of you who have been with me for
a while now will remember how I used to crave a local beer. Well, I have
had ample opportunity to satisfy that craving. But, sad to say, it is no
longer what it used to be. I suppose this is the price one has to pay for
wanting to drink something as popular as this brand: enforced brewing
leads to too many chemical additives, and ... ugh! (Why, too, must the
bars and restaurants more than double the price per can from what it costs
in the liquor shop? Surely they get it at wholesale prices anyway? So
Boertjie has had to go back to drinking Tassies, which is still more or
less the same as two years ago, and still cheap, thank you very much! Hey,
but who's complaining, ek sê?
Yes,
I know this time I have more than doubled the length of my fortnightly
natter, and yes, I know it sounds very negative. But these things have to
be said, and said over and again by many people. Our lovely country
deserves to be up there with the best, doesn't it now? Natuurlik!
But
Boertjie is VERY happy to report that he can at last get to hear almost
enough blues on the radio! Ja, radio, because the TV without satellite
and/or MNet is maar bra dof, you know! That's a whole new subject,
though....
Finally
a very special word of thanks to one of Boertjie's readers in far-off
Japan: you are really someone special! Thanks also to all of the rest of
you who drop me a mail every now and then, I love hearing from you!
Cheers
vir eers, and take care out there!
*****
4 March 2002
Home...
Where is home,
that so very special place? Or should I ask "What is home?"
Home, the homily has it, is where the heart is. It is where everything is
in its place, where we feel that the world is a wonderful place, God is in
Heaven and all is well. Home is where we want to be when we are far from
it, possibly where loved ones wait for our return... But what about those
among us who are born to be wanderers, whose eyes always yearn to see what
is beyond the horizon, whose feet are forever itching to walk that extra
bit on to see what lies around the next corner ... do we also have homes?
And if so, where are these homes?
I
suppose I cannot speak for anyone else, and that is the great thing about
writing a column like this, the faxt that I do not have to, that I can say
what I feel and believe, and then hope that there are those of you out
there who feel the same way, for whom -- in my modest way -- I am also
speaking. If there is no-one like that out there, I suppose I have failed!
But please bear with me...
It
took me thirty years to become a wanderer again, to revert to form, as it
were. When I was young and unattached and had no concerns about what Zorba
called "the whole catastrophe" (wife and children and house,
etc. etc. etc.) I could act on my impulses, switch jobs when I felt I was
getting myself into a corner (yes, the good old days, eh?), decide one
morning that I want to go to University at last... Then, almost thirty
years and a whole lot of happiness and sadness and quite a bit of trauma
later, I found myself in my old state again. And I discovered that the
wanderer in me had not died, he had merely been dormant while I stuck to
one job, became a father and houseowner and gradually slipped away from
who and what I really was deep inside all along. And the change came in
the nick of time, fortunately, before I lost the wanderer in me.
So
today I talk to you as a wanderer again, and happy to be one. And
when I talk about home I am going to be talking about how I, as a
wanderer, see home.
Home
is, perhaps, where the heart is. But that word "heart" has been
trampled by so many tongues already, has been overused in far too many
contexts... and in any case I think the original should have been
"Home is where the soul is", whichever way you feel comfortable
with it. Home for me, as a wanderer, is no longer the place where there is
a building called home. It is not even one town, for that matter, or one
country. Home is where there are places in which one experienced
happiness, and especially those rare moments, almost epiphanic, when
suddenly everything glows with a soft golden haze, when the universe seems
to be all harmony and everything is just right and one feels such
intense peace and contentment. Home, for the wanderer, is those places
where he arrived and felt like staying, where the combination of people
and place and time was just perfect. I suppose I am saying, actually, that
home is where one makes happy memories.
Of
course the concept of home is also very much linked to nostalgia,
heimwee, Heimweh, saudades, whatever you want to call it. When are we
most aware of home? When we are away from it, or when we have just
returned. I remember how in 1974, when a group of thirty or so of us, all
Linguistics students at Stellenbosch University, returned from ten days of
field work in Lesotho, and when we saw the Cape mountains rising hazily
blue off the Karoo plains for the first time again, a huge cheer rose
spontaneously from all three Kombis...and we were originally from all over
SA! So, for the wanderer, no matter how far and for how long he has
wandered, there are many homes, not just one. For me places like
Oudtshoorn, Petrusville, Alicedale, Stellenbosch, Cape Town, Ponta
Delgada, Cete Cidades and many more are actually more "home"
than the one place I lived in for the longest time! So time spent in a
place is not what makes it home. The fact that I spent nine months or
so in Alicedale, compared to eighteen years in Somerset West, does not
necessarily mean that Alicedale is less a home to me, on the contrary, it
is the quality of the memories that we make there that makes a
place home.
Home
is often where one's first love blossomed, where one spent those long,
drawn out summer holidays, where a new future opened up for one, or where
someone very special waits for one. Home is where one's soul feels at
home. It is as simple as that, I believe.
For
the wanderer having many homes is a blessing and a curse, of course,
because the more homes one has, the more times the longing (I much prefer
the Portuguese saudades because it is nostalgia, longing and the
soul and heart's yearning all in one and then some more) is multiplied.
But even saudades makes one a richer person, I think, it
adds depth to one's being. As somebody said to me the other day, "I
envy you, because you have been making memories that will last you a
lifetime.." yes, true, and also a hefty bag of saudades! But
that is part of the joy of being alive, isn't it? So I will go to my
grave with memories of the sunsets over Pópulo's praia pequena,
of the misty light on Lagoa do Fogo, of a cold night in Lisbon when the
air seemed to crackle with an unhearable fado, of the
overwhelming sweetness of the thorn trees in blossom along a dried-up
Karoo riverbed, of sliding down a sloping slab of rock on a piece of
botterboom into the clear pool in the river outside Alicedale where the
steam locomotives used to puff and chatter up the rise behind my bedroom,
of long walks in the drizzle along the banks of the Eerste River in
Stellenbosch, of playing kennetjie in the blazing, drowsy afternoons in
Petrusville, and on and on the list continues... and even when I am
nearly penniless I am a rich man, rich beyond the dreams of a millionaire,
because I have so many homes to dream of.
So,
my friends, whether you wander or stay at home, cherish every moment of
happiness, because you are building a home in the soul where time, nor
wind nor weather can ever touch it.
Mooiloop
till next time! And a special word of hallo and thank you to all of you
who wrote to me; I truly appreciate it more than you imagine! And of
course to that little Swallow waiting for spring...vasbyt, it's not too
far away now!
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