Things I love about Gauteng, South Africa.

A trip overseas a couple of years ago made me realise all the things that I loved about South Africa. I’ve kept my list simple but if you are a cynic like hubby you’ll be saying, “Yes, but…” I went through it with him and he shot down every one. The point is, it’s the little things that make the biggest difference between them and us.

 People here have easy smiles, I can be thinking about something funny the kids did, have a smile on my face, look up and the person I’m looking at will smile too.

 I dread going to any government department, the only bright spark in the otherwise harrowing ordeal is that I know that while I am standing in the queue I will start a conversation with someone and at the end, I’ll know all about their lives, I’ll know about their children, husbands and maybe even their hopes and dreams. It’s a veritable smorgasbord for a writer because they are someone I wouldn’t ordinarily have a conversation with.

Once when I was renewing my license a jolly black man wandered up and down the line chatting with all and sundry, he teased the white people for how much we spent on food. According to him, he only needed meat, vegetables and pap to feed his huge family. He just couldn’t understand why we spent so much on cheese. We were kept entertained for three hours with his humorous indignation and jokes.

 If we see people acting strange or doing something wrong, like a taxi going over a painted island to get to the front of the traffic, it doesn’t matter what colour we are we will do a little shake of the head or a roll of the eyes, we are bound in solidarity against injustice. If someone’s dress sticks out of a car door or a door is slightly ajar you can be sure that by the end of your journey another driver has pointed, gestured, and waved in your direction to tell you about it.

 We are a very touchy feely country, we aren’t afraid to stroke the faces of other peoples children, pat their heads or take their hands if they are crying or in distress. Outside my sons school a woman who was obviously a maid stopped me and asked for help. Her employer had moved, it was her first day at the new house and she was dreadfully lost and in a panic. I calmed her down, drove her to the nearest garage, phoned her employer and gave her directions to the maids location. I was swallowed in a hug that engulfed me totally, it felt wonderful, familiar, and genuine.

 While I was overseas I had to go a government department, there I noticed a few massive differences. They didn’t speak to one another, where we are verbose and loud, they were sullen. No matter where one goes government departments are always the same. The queues are long and people are there because they have to be not because they want to be. How one treats your fellow man while in that situation to me shows how you feel about others at your basic instinct levels. In S.A. it is normal to ask those in front and behind of you to hold your place if nature calls or if you want to ask an official if you are in the correct line. When you come back, even if you were away ten minutes your spot will still be there.

Overseas I sat next to a woman who was obviously in some discomfort; I said I would hold her seat while she went to the toilet, saying that a woman who was standing nearby could sit down in the meantime just to get off her feet. The woman I had offered the chair too growled at me saying that they didn’t do that there. I shrugged and kept my mouth shut for the rest of my incarceration. In time, the woman had to leave and she lost her seat. No courtesy and we’re the third world country!

 Lastly, I love that when I go shopping someone will be singing to himself or herself in the aisle. Sometimes they just hum a tune or whistle to themselves. Other times they’ll have a strong beautiful voice, singing a gospel song, sharing the joy that they feel while singing it. I’ve caught myself humming along to an oldie at the Pick & Pay, there’s no embarrassment when someone hears me, they know I’m content and they’re OK with it, besides they probably do it themselves every so often.

This list is just the beginning, as soon as I’ve posted it I’m sure that I’ll think of ten more things I appreciate about living here. We humans look for the positive in all situations. Hubby would say “We are just frogs in a pot, and the waters getting hotter” I’m much more positive, I love that we are diverse and yet still have so much in common. Let’s hope that others feel like I do.

The 'Exam High'

I’ve never been high. I don’t mean altitude high I mean narcotics high. Sure I’ve had the funny gas that the dentists give you that makes the world spin and sound reverberate. Or had the sensation of total relaxation one gets when you come out of anaesthesia, but I’ve never tried illicit substances. Confessing this may not give me the right to comment, but from all the information that I hear and see from other sources I can imagine what its like. I’ve watched Trainspotting a couple of times, ok so maybe that’s not a great example, I don’t have any strange ‘baby crawling across the ceiling’ hallucinations. I once knew a girl who partook in various banned substances, which should mean I’m a druggie by association?

When I write exams I get a buzz, so if getting high means that a person feels a rush of adrenaline, heart palpitations and a heightened sense of their environment then I get high as a kite. Writing the actual exam is an extreme experience, you push your body mentally and physically to its limits in the race to beat the clock. Hands cramp, shoulders tense and the brain is stretched trying to remember facts and figures.

As with any drug there has to be a time when the high wears off. With the ‘exam high’ that happens about three hours after writing. You have gone through your paper ten times, berated yourself for not including information that would have guaranteed a distinction and finally convinced yourself that you have failed. Then a slow mellow anguish settles in as you await your results, you are irritable and irrational with family members, you lose weight worrying and are just not your normal happy self. These symptoms are what we as parents are told to look for as signs of addiction. I know I’m addicted because while I’m studying for said exams I’m already going through the prescribed list of subjects looking for my next fix.

My critics (hubby specifically) have commented that I am addicted to stress and not exams and that maybe I should stop studying because I may kill myself but what does he know. I want this natural high; I crave it. I have the benefit of getting more brain cells instead of losing some, ok if it’s really stress I will lose a few. Knowing all this, knowledge is still my drug of choice.

Procrastinating as usual!

To all and sundry who read this blog,

I know I've been shockingly lax in posting articles, I do have a valid excuse. I'm writing exams, getting son number 1 enrolled in a new school and generally procrastinating. I plea for your indulgence. Just a little while longer and I'll be back to my old entertaining self.

Much love and hugs,

Yours always,
M