South African visit by an Expat

Peeping at Places in South Africa... (not all bad)...
We arrive back in SA; 18 months since our previous visit... People ask,' What have you noticed has changed?' Others comment, ' You'll notice that there's been a deterioration in the infrastructure in the last three years...'  Others say, 'Same old, same old...'

I'm interested to discover that little has changed in some areas, and in other areas visible change (both good and bad) is conspicuous. Roads and verges have deteriorated greatly. (A trip to the Drakensberg lead us a merry circumnavigation around potholes galore. My husband had hurt his back carrying our luggage and found the potholes and humps an agonising experience as we bumped along. )We notice that verges are dirty and unkempt and garden refuse places overflowing with garbage bags strewn on pavements. The burgeoning weight of managing maintenance is evident. And a trip to Clarens and Golden Gate included a lengthy stretch of one- way traffic next to Sterkfontein, reportedly due to the contractor abandoning the project until the government gets around to paying him. 

We also made a scenic township detour through Phutadithaba due to a bridge ostensibly having collapsed. And on a couple of nights we had take away supper by candlelight due to electricity outages.
     Ironically these are seen as superficial irritants to the locals. And the people seem more positive and enthusiastic since our previous visit, when an air of pessimism permeated the atmosphere, with some folk having a B plan to 'pack for Perth'..., get money off- shore, ensure that they had an overseas connection, else were 'semigrating' to the Cape.
Some folk had previously said, 'We can't emigrate because of...' whilst others said, 'We envy you...' or 'Please take me with you...'

This time we sensed an air of optimism in some folk, but denial that there was any reason for concern in others. For the impoverished nothing seems to have changed.  They continue to dredge out a pittance for the next meal. For the comfortably off they seem confident and want to invest in bigger homes and business ventures, while others are down-scaling and getting their 'ducks in a row'. Others continue to pack up and leave to start a new life faced with the immense challenges of adjustment. But there are new bridges and structures being built, new additions to shopping centres under way and a sense of progress in some spheres.  (When we are there the new Edendale township's spacious R450 million Mall opened.)

The Green jersey supporting the Springboks across cultures, and from kiddies to oldies offered a wonderful sense of camaraderie. That I found really comforting.
                                                        
I notice that young students seemed depressed and demotivated. Friends of ours' daughter wanted to throw in the towel and not finish her 1st year at her Uni, but finally did go back. Folk say the young are demotivated as they see few job prospects or upwardly mobile opportunities due to equity policies and some rather overt partiality, nepotism as well as cultural bias. Instead they hop on a plane to do a Gap Year abroad. Some stay there playing what they allude to as 'The wait and see game', whilst they earn an income in pounds or dollars. (But that, too, is precarious with the present state of the USA $ and Europe's Euro. )Another friend's son dropped out of his 2nd year at his Uni and the weed was a peer pressure factor which temporally debilitated his cognitive focus. And another friend's son couldn't find a job despite having his degree under his belt and was a Pizza Delivery Man. 

The irony is that unemployment is high and yet minority groups battle to find suitable employment. (Trading economics.com puts the unemployment at 25.5 % in July 2011.)
    One or two folk in SA relish telling stories (with a sardonic smirk) about expats who hated it overseas and have come back... For them this is the ultimate endorsement that they have 'done the right thing' staying, and that they can continue to remain stoic because after all, ' n' boer maak n' plan' and 'alles sal reg kom'....

Life seems to go on... I think when one emigrates one finds it almost inconceivable to comprehend that life seems relatively unchanged for others, when one's personal universe has been turned upside down... and one's suffered the bereavement and loss of one's roots, identity, family, friends... and every aspect of one's existential life- world, culture, values and landscape. My first visit back I felt angry and wanted my world to move with me. 'How dare they carry on regardless, as though we never existed ?' was my emotion, which of course was carved out of visceral raw pain, sadness, grief and loss...
       I am far more reconciled now. I am, of course restless when I'm there, making idle wishes that I don't have to really 'go back', that we can throw in the towel, that we can 'sommer' stick it out like everyone else; make sure we've got candles and gas for when there's a black-out, put up with the crumbling infrastructure and make sure our personal space is 'veilig' behind a high fence.

While in SA I soak up the sounds, smells, vistas and flavours - the antediluvian Hadedas primeval squawk, our sons endless supply of Biltong that easily seduces me back into that sublime lifestyle, the avenues of Jacarandas, the flat -topped African thorn trees and the scrub bush, the windmills and dry pinky-hued grasses, 

the African huts nestled in their dusty space as though they've been there forever, 

the wild life that we glimpsed, the majestic rock formations and omnipotent Drakensberg,

 the smell of veld fires that tantalise my nostrils, the Piet my Vrou and cooing doves, the lilt of an African voice, the balmy ruby sunsets, 

the placid African bovines, 

- familiar places, landmarks, people... After a few weeks it becomes home again and I feel resistant about leaving. The things I dislike, or now as an expat feel uncomfortable about, seem to blur into the background.
     I get deeply attached to my precious SA family. I feel reluctant to pack, but know that once I am back in New Zealand that I will be fine again. I tell myself to be brave and vehement about why we started a new life; not only for ourselves, but as a haven for the unquantifiable unknown. Our guest room beds are made up... 

 And of course, as always, I sob at the airport and am miserable all the way from Durban to Johannesburg. In fact I sob all over again as the plane takes off from Oliver Tambo Airport and I leave African terrafirma behind 'till next time.' 


But now almost two weeks after getting back to Auckland, I'm more settled again. The sun's warmth has been a balm to the sadness since we've been back, our loving NZ family are 'chuffed' to have us back and our lovely, restful home with pastoral scenes, indigenous bush and glorious ocean vistas awaits us. And little Paddywag adds to the stability  that we needed after weeks of living out of a suitcase.

A week after the RUGBY WORLD CUP; NEW ZEALAND !

   

We were on the plane between Sydney and Auckland during the final match between France and New Zealand (The All Blacks), on our return from a trip to our homeland, South Africa...              

 
     

It was a nail biting few hours with some score updates from the pilot at intervals. Needless to say by the time we heard that New Zealand had won; only twenty minutes before landing, I was close to ill from the tension. I was fearing the worst when the pilot's commentary stopped on 9-8... for what seemed like an eternity. My worst fears were the depression that the country would experience if they lost to France, as the teams, most anticipated to be a threat to New Zealand were South Africa and Australia; not France ! Being on an Oz plane didn't help, as there wasn't exactly champagne on offer when NZ won. We were incredibly lucky though, to coincidentally witness the celebratory fireworks display from the air.
    I think that New Zealand sighed with huge relief, more than felt a feeling of victorious jubilation, winning by a mere margin. It was tough with some of the best players like Dan Carter out of the World Cup due to an injury... But the Boys shone through with amazing courage and dignity... And a win's a win. . . and now a week later, there are All Black and New Zealand flags flying all over the city, from motor cars and bridges, out of office windows, on homes and in trees.  Richie McCaw, the captain, is a National Hero and all in all 'We love our Boys' ! Parades were held in Auckland and Wellington and the Ellis Webb trophy proudly displayed to the 1000s who came out into the streets to cheer the team... And a baby born that week has been called Ellis Webb ! 


   

        

     
My hope is that it has put our wonderful small country of a mere 4 and a half million people fair and square on the wold map and that tourism will flourish. It's what we needed to boost our morale after the Christchurch earthquakes, too. NZ is a breathtakingly beautiful country and the Kiwis and many immigrants that reside here would be proud as punch to WELCOME YOU !

            

 

Freestate Visit....September 2011

I was born in the Freestate - 




....where the Caledon River connects Lesotho with SA. It's a land with a unique landscape and majestic vistas which excite my senses... it's a land that's part of my childhood roots and part of my visceral life blood.


We go on a trip back to these roots. I soak in the vistas; the koppies, ancient rock formations, majestic clouds, rusty windmills, lofty sunsets and the multi hues of rugged golden earthy browns through to crisp verdant greens. 

There's a serenity there away from the madding crowd. I watch a family of primeval baboons nonchalantly sunning themselves on a clump of rocks.

I attentively listen to the 'Piet my Vrou' and the doves melodious cooing.  It makes my life feel as though its frozen in time; as though yesterday I was that freckle -faced, pigeon toed school girl in my Ficksburg black pleated school uniform, sitting in the back of Dad's 1957 Chevvy on the way back to weekly boarding school, along a dusty farm road where windmills salute the heavens; past antediluvian sandstone edifices.

      I muse about this as I watch three mesmerised hunting dogs on the back of a bakkie, as they wait for their farmer -master with a six pack paunch, who just nipped in to the bottle store for another six pack.
     My eyes are drawn back to the windmills as they hover alongside sturdy, mature sandstone buildings with red corrugated iron roofs. Clarens nestles and snuggles below its amphitheatre of mountains and sandstone koppies. The quietness is pregnant with expectation. Time seems to stand still in Clarens. It's a place I like to visit when I return to SA from New Zealand; as though it permits me to sneak back to a previous lifetime of mine.

       And as the day steadily trickles into evening, people wend their way to drink a pint, then drive back to their bed and breakfast spots, to their homes, to the farms in the area where the lofty poplar trees stand alone. The setting sun will rise again tomorrow and Clarens will abundantly share its creative optimism and gentle rhythmic hum all over again.  

  

                                                                            

A superb holiday in South Africa!

WATCH THIS SPACE !

Superb holiday in South Africa soon to be on my blog with

 MY REFLECTIONS, combined with pictures of some memorable and meaningful adventures.  

THIS IS A PHOTOGRAPH OF THE ANTARCTIC TAKEN FROM THE PLANE  ON OUR QANTAS FLIGHT - 
FROM NZ TO SA -  VIA SYDNEY..... 16 September 2011