I stayed at this cute little beach cottage ....
... with a pool out back ...
A panoramic view of Scarborough beach late Saturday afternoon ...
I walked on the beach a lot ...
... even at 5.30 AM ...when it was completely deserted ...
Sunday, December 28
Down time ...
This weekend, I had the amazing blessing of getting away from it all for two days .... and here are the pix!
... with a pool out back ...
A panoramic view of Scarborough beach late Saturday afternoon ...
... with a pool out back ...A panoramic view of Scarborough beach late Saturday afternoon ...
Tuesday, September 16
Global Financial Crisis Getting Worse
Back in May, I posted about Signs of the Times. I got some emails back then from people who thought I was being a bit over-reactive and prophet-of-doomish. But seriously, folks, I think if anything, I was understating the case. It's bad - and it's getting worse. And I'm ONLY talking about the economic situation now, nothing more than that.
Reading and listening to BBC news this evening, I learned more about the after effects of the collapse of Lehman Brothers Bank in the US, and how it's affecting banks, businesses and the man in the street world wide. And it really seems as if we are heading into a massive global economic crisis - a global recession according to the boffins. I'm not a financial whizz, by any stretch of imagination, but the facts are starting to speak for themselves.
At times like this, I really wish I understood how economics and global financial matters better, but up to now, as long as I've been able to pay all my bills and keep food on the table here at home, I've felt OK. What this latest crisis is going to mean for me (and you) personally, remains to be seen.
Elleann
Reading and listening to BBC news this evening, I learned more about the after effects of the collapse of Lehman Brothers Bank in the US, and how it's affecting banks, businesses and the man in the street world wide. And it really seems as if we are heading into a massive global economic crisis - a global recession according to the boffins. I'm not a financial whizz, by any stretch of imagination, but the facts are starting to speak for themselves.
At times like this, I really wish I understood how economics and global financial matters better, but up to now, as long as I've been able to pay all my bills and keep food on the table here at home, I've felt OK. What this latest crisis is going to mean for me (and you) personally, remains to be seen.
Elleann
Mamma Mia
Today, my 16-year-old daughter and I went to see the glorious and joy-filled Mamma Mia, in which Meryl Streep just blew me away with her funny, sad and altogether amazing singing. As a die hard ABBA fan, I was sold before I even bought the tickets, but you never know ... non-ABBA people singing ABBA songs? But it was sheer delight, from start to finish - a celebration of the strength and joy of being a woman.
But the bit that I didn't see coming really hit me hard. Meryl Streep is helping her daughter get dressed for the wedding ... and she sings to her. This song completely destroyed me .. I wept like a baby. Here was this go-it-alone single mom loving her little girl and saying goodbye to her. She was me, in every line:
But the bit that I didn't see coming really hit me hard. Meryl Streep is helping her daughter get dressed for the wedding ... and she sings to her. This song completely destroyed me .. I wept like a baby. Here was this go-it-alone single mom loving her little girl and saying goodbye to her. She was me, in every line:
Slipping Through My Fingers.
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when shes gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why I just don't know
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile...
Idols For Writers
Ever heard of Idols For Writers? Me neither. But click on the banner above and you'll find it - a weekly writing competition based on the American Idol premise. I'm entering, as are a few writing buddies. How about you? All you need to qualify as an entrant is an active Live Journal or another creative journal with a lot of entries, and a willingness to write to a prompt on a weekly basis. If you don't have the time for that, you can join the community simply as an observer or as a random writer. That means you'll be able to read and vote for the various entries, which will be posted weekly on a Friday.
Join the community now, please! Season Two starts this coming Friday 19th September and the community will be closed at that point. If you can pick my entries out from all the rest of the anonymously posted entries, and if you like my writing well enough, it would be great if you can cast a vote for me!
Once voting is done, I'll be posting some of my entries to my writing journal, which you can find HERE.
Join the community now, please! Season Two starts this coming Friday 19th September and the community will be closed at that point. If you can pick my entries out from all the rest of the anonymously posted entries, and if you like my writing well enough, it would be great if you can cast a vote for me!
Once voting is done, I'll be posting some of my entries to my writing journal, which you can find HERE.
Tuesday, August 19
Deep Impact
One of my favorite sci-fi/doomsday movies is Deep Impact, a story about a giant asteroid on a collision course with the earth and the efforts of mankind to save itself, or to save at least a very large handful of scientists, brains, farmers etc.
Anyway, I've recently started getting a daily quote from Delancey Place dot com. Extracts from relevant and interesting non-fiction books and articles and lectures etc. Today's was about asteroids and how often we narrowly miss being smashed to pieces by a stray chunk of cosmic rock.
Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything, Broadway, Copyright 2003 by Bill Bryson, pp. 194-195.
Anyway, I've recently started getting a daily quote from Delancey Place dot com. Extracts from relevant and interesting non-fiction books and articles and lectures etc. Today's was about asteroids and how often we narrowly miss being smashed to pieces by a stray chunk of cosmic rock.
"As Steve Ostro of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory has put it, 'Suppose that there was a button you could push and you could light up all the Earth-crossing asteroids larger than about ten meters, there would be over 100 million of these objects in the sky.' In short, you would not see a couple of thousand distant twinkling stars, but millions upon millions of nearer, randomly moving objects--'all of which are capable of colliding with the Earth and all of which are moving on slightly different courses through the sky at different rates. It would be deeply unnerving.' Well, be unnerved because it is there. We just can't see it.
"Altogether it is thought--though it is only really a guess, based on cratering rates on the Moon--that some two thousand asteroids big enough to imperil civilized existence regularly cross our orbit. But even a small asteroid--the size of a house, say--could destroy a city. The number of relative tiddlers in Earth-crossing orbits is almost certainly in the hundreds of thousands and possibly in the millions, and they are nearly impossible to track.
"The first one [crossing near the Earth] wasn't spotted until 1991, and that was after it had already gone by. Named 1991 BA, it was noticed as it sailed past us at a distance of 106,000 miles--in cosmic terms the equivalent of a bullet passing through one's sleeve without touching the arm. Two years later, another, somewhat larger asteroid missed us by just 90,000 miles. ... It, too, was not seen until it had passed and would have arrived without warning. According to Timothy Ferris, writing in the New Yorker, such near misses probably happen two or three times a week and go unnoticed.
"An object a hundred yards across couldn't be picked up by any Earth-based telescope until it was within just a few days of us, and that is only if a telescope happened to be trained on it, which is unlikely because even now the number of people searching for such objects is modest. The arresting analogy that is always made is that the number of people in the world who are actively searching for asteroids is fewer than the staff of a typical McDonald's restaurant. (It is actually somewhat higher now. But not much.)"
Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything, Broadway, Copyright 2003 by Bill Bryson, pp. 194-195.
Why Bother?
Changing course from applying to emigrate to the US to applying to emigrate to New Zealand meant a whole new round of paperwork. So I got started in mid-June.
On the 21st June, I sent off requests to the SA Nursing Council for verification of credentials and transcripts of training (supposed to take 4 - 6 weeks) and requests for police clearances (supposed to take 28 working days). Delay Number One: the police clearance was returned 10 days ago - but they only sent ONE instead of THREE! Delay Number Two: I just called the Nursing Council and they told me: "Yes, we received your money (R1000.00) on the 23rd of June, but we haven't started doing it yet. We are still busy with requests from May!!! Call again in two weeks time and maybe we'll be a bit further along ... "
So all my sweating to get my package of documents off last week - via courier instead of post and at a considerable price - was a bit of a waste of time. Not a total waste, as at least it meant they got there safely and did not get lost in the mail, but still. Why do I bother to do my part as best I can when the bureaucrats in the system just drag their heels and lose your stuff and couldn't care less?
Makes me sick. There are a lot of people who scorn those of us who prefer to leave this country instead of staying and trying to make a difference, but tell me how exactly one is supposed to 'change' a service mentality like this?
This is Africa. Enough said.
On the 21st June, I sent off requests to the SA Nursing Council for verification of credentials and transcripts of training (supposed to take 4 - 6 weeks) and requests for police clearances (supposed to take 28 working days). Delay Number One: the police clearance was returned 10 days ago - but they only sent ONE instead of THREE! Delay Number Two: I just called the Nursing Council and they told me: "Yes, we received your money (R1000.00) on the 23rd of June, but we haven't started doing it yet. We are still busy with requests from May!!! Call again in two weeks time and maybe we'll be a bit further along ... "
So all my sweating to get my package of documents off last week - via courier instead of post and at a considerable price - was a bit of a waste of time. Not a total waste, as at least it meant they got there safely and did not get lost in the mail, but still. Why do I bother to do my part as best I can when the bureaucrats in the system just drag their heels and lose your stuff and couldn't care less?
Makes me sick. There are a lot of people who scorn those of us who prefer to leave this country instead of staying and trying to make a difference, but tell me how exactly one is supposed to 'change' a service mentality like this?
This is Africa. Enough said.
Monday, August 18
Militant Extremists ...
Who do you think is being described in the following excerpt?
Sounds to me like something a modern-day commentator might say about a radical militant terrorist group, like Al Queda or some other radical Islamist group opposed to the wicked West .... but it's not. It's from an article entitled "Hadrian and the Limits of Empire," written by Neil Faulkner and published in History Today (Aug 2008) and the rebels in question are first century Jews of Palestine and the diaspora, who had risen up against Roman tax collectors, Greek landlords and fellow Jews perceived as traitors.
Interesting ... ;-)
"The rebels were sustained by the traditional faith of the common people, a religion of radical messages spread by itinerant preachers - messages about the wickedness of the 'sons of darkness', about the breaking of the 'covenant' between God and his people and about an imminent apocalyptic settling of accounts in which the 'sons of righteousness' would rise up against the rich, cleanse the land of oppressors and restore to the people the fruits of their labor."
Sounds to me like something a modern-day commentator might say about a radical militant terrorist group, like Al Queda or some other radical Islamist group opposed to the wicked West .... but it's not. It's from an article entitled "Hadrian and the Limits of Empire," written by Neil Faulkner and published in History Today (Aug 2008) and the rebels in question are first century Jews of Palestine and the diaspora, who had risen up against Roman tax collectors, Greek landlords and fellow Jews perceived as traitors.
Interesting ... ;-)
Thursday, August 14
Then and Now
In the year I turned 40, I rediscovered myself as a writer.
I'm not going to detail here the strange, mystical, spiritual experience that preceded it, but suffice it to say that one long, dreary Sunday afternoon, while my kids were away visiting their dad, I sat down at the computer and decided to try writing something. Following the adage 'write what you know', I produced a couple of pages of story about an overweight, single mom trying to make ends meet, trying not to feel like a loser, agonizing about finding love again ... in general, all the issues that were plaguing me at the time. (I think I still have it buried in a file somewhere...) It was fun! Words flowed, in an odd kind of way, and I felt good about my ability to create.
I carried on, writing scenes, descriptions, chapters, events - nothing cohesive and certainly nothing publishable. And I enjoyed it hugely! I started a little writer's group - a few friends who met up once a month and read their ramblings to each other. Then, through the internet, I got connected to a Christian writers' group and in 2002, was given the opportunity to attend a Christian Writer's Conference in the USA - all expenses paid. What a gift! Part of attending a conference, however, is that you are expected to bring along a sample of your writing and to receive critical feedback on it from real, live editors or agents or published authors. So I took my collection of scenes and chapters and pulled them together into a kind of a story. Wrote up a synopsis, polished the first chapter and printed it all out. Took it to the conference and got raves from the two editors I submitted it to.
Now, if memory serves, the writing wasn't all that good. The story was about a man who lives for twenty years under an assumed name, hiding his real identity from his first and second wives and his sons. Then one day, something overturns his world, his little daughter's life is in danger and he goes on the run, trying to prevent his carefully-fabricated world from collapsing. The story was heavily imbued with religious elements (befitting a Christian story) and had a redemeptive theme.
Since then I've written a lot more, mainly fiction in the form of a few short stories and a few more attempts at a novel. My writing has been heavily influenced by whatever is going on in my 'inner life' at the time - and for the greater part of the last few years, that has had to do with my personal spiritual journey / odyssey / whatever you want to call it. And interestingly, a recurrent theme has been to do with hidden identity - with things looking like one thing on the surface, but underneath, there is something completely unexpected going on. Characters are never quite who they seem to be, but they all manage to fool everyone around them (and themselves!) until suddenly, for some reason or other, the system breaks down and the old masks no longer serve ... then the real journey of self-discovery and redemption begins!
Now I have turned 50 and once again, life is imitating art to a degree. Not only is a new emigration plan underway, but I think my writing life is getting a revamp. I seem to have lost all interest (for now) in building a 'world' and in developing characters. I am still trying to make sense of the spiritual. My thinking has undergone a 180 degree change in the last two years and after being a Christian for well over 30 years, the most honest thing I can call myself now is 'agnostic'. And that upheaval is the thing I most want to get to write about.
Not as fiction, though. Maybe as literary or narrative non-fiction. We'll see. I hope it will still be fun, though!!
I'm not going to detail here the strange, mystical, spiritual experience that preceded it, but suffice it to say that one long, dreary Sunday afternoon, while my kids were away visiting their dad, I sat down at the computer and decided to try writing something. Following the adage 'write what you know', I produced a couple of pages of story about an overweight, single mom trying to make ends meet, trying not to feel like a loser, agonizing about finding love again ... in general, all the issues that were plaguing me at the time. (I think I still have it buried in a file somewhere...) It was fun! Words flowed, in an odd kind of way, and I felt good about my ability to create.
I carried on, writing scenes, descriptions, chapters, events - nothing cohesive and certainly nothing publishable. And I enjoyed it hugely! I started a little writer's group - a few friends who met up once a month and read their ramblings to each other. Then, through the internet, I got connected to a Christian writers' group and in 2002, was given the opportunity to attend a Christian Writer's Conference in the USA - all expenses paid. What a gift! Part of attending a conference, however, is that you are expected to bring along a sample of your writing and to receive critical feedback on it from real, live editors or agents or published authors. So I took my collection of scenes and chapters and pulled them together into a kind of a story. Wrote up a synopsis, polished the first chapter and printed it all out. Took it to the conference and got raves from the two editors I submitted it to.
Now, if memory serves, the writing wasn't all that good. The story was about a man who lives for twenty years under an assumed name, hiding his real identity from his first and second wives and his sons. Then one day, something overturns his world, his little daughter's life is in danger and he goes on the run, trying to prevent his carefully-fabricated world from collapsing. The story was heavily imbued with religious elements (befitting a Christian story) and had a redemeptive theme.
Since then I've written a lot more, mainly fiction in the form of a few short stories and a few more attempts at a novel. My writing has been heavily influenced by whatever is going on in my 'inner life' at the time - and for the greater part of the last few years, that has had to do with my personal spiritual journey / odyssey / whatever you want to call it. And interestingly, a recurrent theme has been to do with hidden identity - with things looking like one thing on the surface, but underneath, there is something completely unexpected going on. Characters are never quite who they seem to be, but they all manage to fool everyone around them (and themselves!) until suddenly, for some reason or other, the system breaks down and the old masks no longer serve ... then the real journey of self-discovery and redemption begins!
Now I have turned 50 and once again, life is imitating art to a degree. Not only is a new emigration plan underway, but I think my writing life is getting a revamp. I seem to have lost all interest (for now) in building a 'world' and in developing characters. I am still trying to make sense of the spiritual. My thinking has undergone a 180 degree change in the last two years and after being a Christian for well over 30 years, the most honest thing I can call myself now is 'agnostic'. And that upheaval is the thing I most want to get to write about.
Not as fiction, though. Maybe as literary or narrative non-fiction. We'll see. I hope it will still be fun, though!!
Saturday, August 2
Brilliant Bloggings
Out of the blue, I got this ultra cool award, from Kelly It was totally unexpected and I am quite sure mostly undeserved, seeing as I hardly ever update here... but I'm very grateful and VERY happy to have it! Thank, honey!! :-)))Now, what I am supposed to do is this:
1) Put the logo on my blog. DONE!
2) Add a link to the person who awarded me. DONE!
3) Nominate 7 other blogs. UMmmm...
4) Add links to those blogs on mine. More Ummm ....
5) Leave a message for my nominees on their blogs. Well.....
Thing is, I don't hang out and chat on all that many blogs ... since I started working fulltime again back in April, all the stuff I used to do has kind of fallen away and a great deal of RL has taken over. I miss my cyberlife, especially all the long, long chatty emails I used to exchange with my bestest cyberbuds ... so, I'm not too sure who to nominate seeing as Kelly already has one of these awards thingies. I think what I'll do is just hang on to it, until I find a blog that makes me go "Yeah!"
Till then!!
Monday, July 14
Celebrate!!!
KLEINMOND in JULY, 2008
The Girls' Weekend in Kleinmond, to celebrate my 50th, was an outstanding, rip-roaring success!
From champagne breakfast on the deck ....
we went on to enjoy walks along the cliff path ...
... hilarious and well-lubricated games of 30 Seconds ...
...watching for whales - we saw a whole pod frolicking in the bay! ...
Kit, Jenni, Rene, Lorr, me, Michelle
Michelle
Rene
Kit
Me
Carol
Lorr
Jenniuntil at last all that was left was to say goodbye .....
From left to right: Jenni, me, Rene, Lorr, Michelle, Kit and Carol.The weather was awesomely beautiful, the whole time we were there. Clear cool days, and crispy nights just right for a roaring fire. We feasted well, drinking far too much red wine and whiskey and cream liquers, indulging in far too many chocolates, nuts, fudge and roasted marshmallows, tucking into delicious pasta dishes and salads ....
During the day, we took long walks in the cold wind along a winding, craggy cliff path that led to a sheltered lagoon, then came home to tea and whiskey and brownies and whale-watching from the front window. Saw a whole pod of whales breaching and blowing and rolling over .. it was just awesome! In the evenings, we played 30 Seconds, which was the most fun, and watched a chick flick (27 Dresses) during which a lot of us fell asleep, lol! And all the time, there was this amazing dynamic going on as people connected and talked and shared from the heart. On Sunday morning, we all ended up bundled up in one of the bedrooms drinking tea and eating rusks and having the deepest conversation imaginable and the openness was just amazing.
What a privilege! What a pleasure! What an amazing way to celebrate the beginning of the second half of my life on earth!! :-)))
During the day, we took long walks in the cold wind along a winding, craggy cliff path that led to a sheltered lagoon, then came home to tea and whiskey and brownies and whale-watching from the front window. Saw a whole pod of whales breaching and blowing and rolling over .. it was just awesome! In the evenings, we played 30 Seconds, which was the most fun, and watched a chick flick (27 Dresses) during which a lot of us fell asleep, lol! And all the time, there was this amazing dynamic going on as people connected and talked and shared from the heart. On Sunday morning, we all ended up bundled up in one of the bedrooms drinking tea and eating rusks and having the deepest conversation imaginable and the openness was just amazing.
What a privilege! What a pleasure! What an amazing way to celebrate the beginning of the second half of my life on earth!! :-)))
Sunday, July 6
It's finally here ... 50 at last.
A friend loaned me a book called "i'm too young to be this damn old". From it a few gems in honor of the day!
I must be getting old. People are beginning to tell me I look so young! (L M Montgomery)
Forty is the old age of youth - but FIFTY is the youth of old age! (French proverb)
Don't think of it as 'wrinkles'. Think of it as 'relaxed fit skin'.
The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and you are not decrepit enough to turn them down. (TS Elliot)
Man fools himself. He prays for a long life and he fears old age. (Chinese proverb)
It is never too late - in fiction or in life - to revise! (Nancy Thayer)
It is hard to feel 'middle-aged' because how can you know how long you are going to live? (Mignon McLaughlin)
'It is quite useless to discuss questions of age with old people, they have such peculiar ideas on the subject. "Not really old at all, only seventy" you hear them saying! (Nancy Mitford)And my favorite one so far: At fifty, the mad woman in the attic breaks free, stomps down the stairs and sets fire to the house. She won't be imprisoned any more! (Erica Jong)
Soooo ... without any further ado: Happy 50th Birthday to ME!
Friday, June 13
Dream On ...
I'm a firm believer in dreams - not as a means of foretelling the future, but as a way of helping me understand what's going on inside my head - how I'm feeling about the stuff in my life.
Last night I dreamed that my foot was injured, blood pouring out all over the place. As I hopped about trying to get help to staunch it (and the best help I got was someone handing me what I thought was a strong bandage, but turned out to be a piece of thin toilet paper!), I found myself limping because the knee of the other leg had developed a huge, very painful bump which grew, as I watched. I knew it was about to burst and bleed too, so I was shouting for ice and pressure bandages and help ...
Then - of course - I woke up.
Here's what my favorite Dream Dictionary site has to say:
In my Real Life, I am indeed facing a very large decision which will have huge consequences for me and mine, and I am really not at all sure yet what the best thing to do is. (In the old days, I would have said 'the Right Thing', not the Best Thing! Progress indeed!) And yes, I am feeling unsupported in this decision-making process so as a result, I am feeling emotionally exhausted. The dreams I have won't give me the answers I need, but they do help me realize that I need to find support within this process (hard for me to do as I'm frickin' independent-minded!) and I need to make sure I don't get stressed out over it either...
The unconscious mind is a wonderful thing!
Last night I dreamed that my foot was injured, blood pouring out all over the place. As I hopped about trying to get help to staunch it (and the best help I got was someone handing me what I thought was a strong bandage, but turned out to be a piece of thin toilet paper!), I found myself limping because the knee of the other leg had developed a huge, very painful bump which grew, as I watched. I knew it was about to burst and bleed too, so I was shouting for ice and pressure bandages and help ...
Then - of course - I woke up.
Here's what my favorite Dream Dictionary site has to say:
To see your own feet in your dream, symbolizes your foundation, stability and sense of understanding. It signifies your need to be more practical and sensible. Keep both feet on the ground. Alternatively, it represents mobility, independence and freedom. Perhaps you have taken a step in the right direction and are contemplating your goals or your next step. The sole of the foot may be a pun of being or feeling like the only support of some person/situation.
Foot
To dream that you injured or hurt your foot, signifies a lack of progress, freedom, and independence. Alternatively, the dream may suggests that you have taken a step in the wrong direction. In particular, to dream that your foot gets cut by glass, then it indicates passivity. You are hesitant or reluctant in taking the first step toward a goal or decision.
Knee
To dream of your knees, symbolizes a level of support your may be receiving. It also indicates that you are feeling very emotional. Feelings of inadequacy and issues of power/control also come into play. You may have more than you can handle.
To see blood in your dream, represents life, love, and passion as well as disappointments. If you see the word "blood" written in your dream, then it may refer to some situation in your life that is permanent and cannot be changed.
To dream that you are bleeding or losing blood, signifies that you are suffering from exhaustion or that you are feeling emotionally drained.In my Real Life, I am indeed facing a very large decision which will have huge consequences for me and mine, and I am really not at all sure yet what the best thing to do is. (In the old days, I would have said 'the Right Thing', not the Best Thing! Progress indeed!) And yes, I am feeling unsupported in this decision-making process so as a result, I am feeling emotionally exhausted. The dreams I have won't give me the answers I need, but they do help me realize that I need to find support within this process (hard for me to do as I'm frickin' independent-minded!) and I need to make sure I don't get stressed out over it either...
The unconscious mind is a wonderful thing!
Saturday, May 31
Oh, the relief!!!!
If you read about the last time, you will understand the title of this post.In the end, it took us eighteen months, probably around R2000.00 in instructor and test fees, four attempts and more stress than you can imagine. But finally, today, my son beat the giant that is the K53 test system and now holds an official South African driver's license.
Friday, May 30
Signs of the Times
One of my favourite genres for both books and movie is the end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenario. Deep Impact, The Day After (and The Day After Tomorrow), I Am Legend, The Day of the Triffids, and a hundred and one other sci-fi novels about the end of civilisation and 'what happens afterwards'.
But what would it be like if one of those scenarios were to play out in my life time? Even maybe within the next few years, maybe? When we look at what's going on in the world today, it can get a little scary. It can get a LOT scary, in fact. So what exactly is going on, then?
Population explosion - we're almost at 6,9 billion now.
Sky-rocketing food prices leading to people dying of starvation.
Sky-rocketing fuel prices leading to all kinds of knock-on effects.
Global warming leading to ....
Environmental damage that might be irreparable - deforestation, ozone layer holes etc.
Increasing amount and size of natural disasters - Katrina, the 2006 tsunami, the Burmese cyclone, the Chinese earthquake ....
AIDS
Where will it end?
But what would it be like if one of those scenarios were to play out in my life time? Even maybe within the next few years, maybe? When we look at what's going on in the world today, it can get a little scary. It can get a LOT scary, in fact. So what exactly is going on, then?
Population explosion - we're almost at 6,9 billion now.
Sky-rocketing food prices leading to people dying of starvation.
Sky-rocketing fuel prices leading to all kinds of knock-on effects.
Global warming leading to ....
Environmental damage that might be irreparable - deforestation, ozone layer holes etc.
Increasing amount and size of natural disasters - Katrina, the 2006 tsunami, the Burmese cyclone, the Chinese earthquake ....
AIDS
Where will it end?
Which Swinging Sixties Chick Are You?
You are Marianne Faithfull...
Congratulations! You are my heroine! A singer, actress, rock star girl-friend and all round beautiful person, you are also a poster girl for 60's excess. Due to your blond hair, big eyes and innocent appearance, you inspire chivalry in people- they want to take care you. In reality, however, you are strong and independent- you do not want to be controlled. You are ethereal and intense and people find it hard to know the "real" you. You are experimental and willing to try anything once. You are adventourous and people are drawn to your beauty and magical quality.
You like to be surrounded by beautiful things... clothes, literature, music, people and have romantic notions about drugs and decandent living. Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll, you started using pot and sleeping with girls at age 17, by 22 you had slept with 3 Rolling Stones, countless rock stars and were living on a wall, shooting up heroin. Times have been tough but you have survived, you have overcome many addictions and are still recording today. You have a strong soul.
Described as having the face of an angel and the best body in rock music, along with Keith Richards, you are something of a minor medical miracle!
Tuesday, May 27
Us and Them
In the days following the xenophobic outbreaks, the people of South Africa have opened the hearts and homes to those affected by the violence.
Refugee camps have been set up in at least five sites in the Western Cape alone, including one less than ten minutes drive from my home. A friend of mine has been volunteering there since the weekend, making food and distributing donated goods to more than 1500 people (a conservative estimate). Churches, community organizations and NGOs have all thrown themselves into the relief effort ... but there is NO official presence beyond a police patrol. No one is organizing anything - and we have the entire SA Navy just a few kms down the coast ...
And just guess where our President is? After a 'rare televised appearance' on Sunday evening in which he lambasted the 'shameful acts' - two weeks after the violence broke out, he has now flown off to Japan!!! He's gone to a conference called - wait for it - Towards a Vibrant Africa: A Continent of Hope and Opportunity. Unbelievable ... he can fly halfway round the world but he couldn't be bothered to take a trip to the townships. If this had happened in Mandela's day (which is doubtful) he would have been in the townships the very next day, talking to the people. He would have been on television soon after that, addressing the nation.
Do we really have to put up with Mbeki's non-leadership for another year?
Blog here has loads of info on the community reaction to the crisis, and see this amazing Slideshow too, from News 24.
Refugee camps have been set up in at least five sites in the Western Cape alone, including one less than ten minutes drive from my home. A friend of mine has been volunteering there since the weekend, making food and distributing donated goods to more than 1500 people (a conservative estimate). Churches, community organizations and NGOs have all thrown themselves into the relief effort ... but there is NO official presence beyond a police patrol. No one is organizing anything - and we have the entire SA Navy just a few kms down the coast ...
And just guess where our President is? After a 'rare televised appearance' on Sunday evening in which he lambasted the 'shameful acts' - two weeks after the violence broke out, he has now flown off to Japan!!! He's gone to a conference called - wait for it - Towards a Vibrant Africa: A Continent of Hope and Opportunity. Unbelievable ... he can fly halfway round the world but he couldn't be bothered to take a trip to the townships. If this had happened in Mandela's day (which is doubtful) he would have been in the townships the very next day, talking to the people. He would have been on television soon after that, addressing the nation.
Do we really have to put up with Mbeki's non-leadership for another year?
Blog here has loads of info on the community reaction to the crisis, and see this amazing Slideshow too, from News 24.
Friday, May 23
From Shame through Helplessness ... to Fear
Today it feels like South Africa is teetering on the edge of major disaster.
About ten days ago, the so-called "xenophobic violence" started up north in the township of Alexandra in Gauteng. Since then over 40 people have died, some brutally hacked or burned to death by rampaging mobs. Over 25,000 foreigners - men, women and children from Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Somalia, Malawi, Nigeria, Ghana etc - have been displaced, their shacks looted and burned, forcing them to seek refuge in police stations and other community centres. Zimbabwe and Malawi have instituted official repatriation programmes, aimed at bringing their people back home. It is estimated that of SA's 49 million people, maybe 4 - 5 million are foreign nationals, some here legally but the majority illegally.
When it was all happening far away, up in the townships outside Johannesburg, like many others I felt shocked and ashamed that 'our people' could behave in such a barbaric fashion but still it seemed distant from my everyday life. But today that changed. We woke up to find that the violence was right here, on our doorsteps in the Cape. The local papers told of attacks on Somalian and Zimbabweans in settlements in and around Cape Town - of looting and burning and of thousands of foreigners being transported out of the area by the police for their own protection, as crowds wielding pangas, knives, batons and homemade weapons took to the streets.
At work, colleagues who live in these areas had stories to tell:
Later on today, I mentioned these thoughts and found that I was not alone - many of us had had the same experience. And underneath all this lurks that other fear: we, the white people of South Africa, are also 'foreigners' in this land. The rallying cry of not that long ago was "Kill the Farmer, Kill the Boer!"
According to BBC news tonight, the situation is calming down a bit. But there are too many unanswered questions and too much anger ... and throughout this whole thing, our "President" - the same wimp who said of Zimbabwe: "Crisis? What crisis?" - has been hugely conspicuous by his absense and his silence. He has not visited the hard-hit areas, he has not spoken out, he has not offered apologies to those who have suffered at the hands of the citizens of his country.
It's not over yet.
About ten days ago, the so-called "xenophobic violence" started up north in the township of Alexandra in Gauteng. Since then over 40 people have died, some brutally hacked or burned to death by rampaging mobs. Over 25,000 foreigners - men, women and children from Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Somalia, Malawi, Nigeria, Ghana etc - have been displaced, their shacks looted and burned, forcing them to seek refuge in police stations and other community centres. Zimbabwe and Malawi have instituted official repatriation programmes, aimed at bringing their people back home. It is estimated that of SA's 49 million people, maybe 4 - 5 million are foreign nationals, some here legally but the majority illegally.
When it was all happening far away, up in the townships outside Johannesburg, like many others I felt shocked and ashamed that 'our people' could behave in such a barbaric fashion but still it seemed distant from my everyday life. But today that changed. We woke up to find that the violence was right here, on our doorsteps in the Cape. The local papers told of attacks on Somalian and Zimbabweans in settlements in and around Cape Town - of looting and burning and of thousands of foreigners being transported out of the area by the police for their own protection, as crowds wielding pangas, knives, batons and homemade weapons took to the streets.
At work, colleagues who live in these areas had stories to tell:
- A Mozambican who works with one staff member's husband was warned (not sure by whom) TWO DAYS ago to 'leave the area or suffer the consequences'.
- Another staff member lives over the road from a Somalian woman. A taxi arrived at the her door in the middle of the night, bringing her all the stock from her small shop, which had just been burnt to the ground.
- Tonight, as I was leaving work, the RN taking over from me was on the phone arranging to pay for two Zimbabwean friends of hers to be brought from their shack on the other side of the Peninsula to her house on this side, just to keep them safe.
Later on today, I mentioned these thoughts and found that I was not alone - many of us had had the same experience. And underneath all this lurks that other fear: we, the white people of South Africa, are also 'foreigners' in this land. The rallying cry of not that long ago was "Kill the Farmer, Kill the Boer!"
According to BBC news tonight, the situation is calming down a bit. But there are too many unanswered questions and too much anger ... and throughout this whole thing, our "President" - the same wimp who said of Zimbabwe: "Crisis? What crisis?" - has been hugely conspicuous by his absense and his silence. He has not visited the hard-hit areas, he has not spoken out, he has not offered apologies to those who have suffered at the hands of the citizens of his country.
It's not over yet.
Thursday, May 22
Why do we need stories?
What would life be like if we didn't have stories? That we need stories is evidenced by the shelves full of books in our libraries and bookstores and schools, and by the sold-out movie theatres that you'll find in every corner of every country of the world. We find stories everywhere - on the radio, in the lyrics of a song, in the words of the lady at the water cooler recounting her weekend away. But WHY do we need stories? I found a wonderful answer to this question here today, in an article by Jacqui Banaszynski. She writes:
There's more to it than that, I'm sure, but it's a pretty good starting point.
I asked Pete (a journalist writing about forest services) last week to tell me why we need stories, and he sent me back a note which, he confessed, was wine-induced, and he said this:
“I need stories to know I’m not alone. That is reason enough. They tell me what we do and how we live and occasionally, if I’m lucky, they tell me why. There is a commonality to stories that makes us whole beings. Walt Whitman knew that when he wrote ‘Leaves of Grass’:
‘I celebrate myself,
And what I assume, you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.’”
There's more to it than that, I'm sure, but it's a pretty good starting point.
Grovel, grovel, grovel ...
Last night, I totally put my foot in it with my darlin' daughter.
A couple of weeks ago, she told me that she and her friend Lana* would be going to the library after school and Lana would be giving her some tutoring in Life Science. (Lana is a very bright gal!) So last night my gal says to me that today, after school, her friend Jo* (another bright girl) would be coming home with her to work on Physical Science. I was a leetle bitty distracted at the time (watching something on TV) and so I say: 'That's so cool, darling. I'm glad you've got such great friends to tutor you in all this stuff.'
A deafening silence ensues, loud enough to make me realize something is badly wrong. I glance over at her and see her staring at me in that teenagerish fashion - rolling her eyes without actually moving them - so I say: "What? What?"
"Actually, mom," she says, "I'm going to be tutoring her."
Luckily for me, my gal is a wonderful person and accepted my groveling very graciously.
** not their real names
Luckily for me, my gal is a wonderful person and accepted my groveling very graciously.
** not their real names
Tuesday, May 20
A Nation's Shame
Today, I am ashamed to be a South African. The following story filled the front pages of all the local papers on Monday, and was on international news last night:
Picture by Halden Krog
If Mandela were dead, he would be spinning in his grave at what his successors have done with his bright, shining dream for this country. Time and again, our so-called democratic government has failed its own people and now it has failed the refugees from Zimbabwe, Mozambique and other African nations in turmoil, who fled here, seeking shelter and peace within our borders, and how found only more hate. And now, for some, death at the hands of an angry mob ...
I have no words, only deep shame and despair.
Flames of Hate
Residents laugh as foreigner burns in his own blankets
Residents laugh as foreigner burns in his own blankets
Picture by Halden KrogAs we made our way through the Ramaphosa squatter camp in Reiger Park on Gauteng’s East Rand, a woman’s words made us freeze in horror. “They are burning people down there,” she said.
I ran to the nearest police officer and said: “The locals say they’re burning a person at the other intersection.”
Officers leapt into a Casspir and a Nyala, and drove through the debris and barricades in the road.
I ran after them, with other photographers following.
Two hundred metres down the road we found the first man. He had been severely beaten and was semi- conscious. Police thought he was dead, but later realised he wasn’t.
About 25m from him a man was on his knees. There was a mattress covering him, and it was on fire.
He, too, was alight.
Police threw the mattress off him and kicked sand onto him to put out the flames. Another officer ran over with a fire extinguisher, pointed it at him and extinguished the flames. Other officers radioed for medical help.
The man was alive, but barely. He groaned, but he could not speak.
It was all over in 20 seconds.
There was a concrete pillar lying near him, splattered with blood. We can only imagine what was done to him before he was set alight.
The police stayed with him until the paramedics arrived, doing what they could . But residents gathered at the scene were laughing.
Kim Ludbrook, a photographer, admonished them, and we reminded them this was human being and that what had happened was barbaric.
Still they laughed.
The burn victim, whose name has not been released, died last night in hospital.
Original story and more links here.
If Mandela were dead, he would be spinning in his grave at what his successors have done with his bright, shining dream for this country. Time and again, our so-called democratic government has failed its own people and now it has failed the refugees from Zimbabwe, Mozambique and other African nations in turmoil, who fled here, seeking shelter and peace within our borders, and how found only more hate. And now, for some, death at the hands of an angry mob ...
I have no words, only deep shame and despair.
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