Moments

There are moments when I want to jump on a plane and spend more time with my loved ones.

There is too much adjustment now: to the weather, to working, to the new environment, living on my own, to my housemates, to that void that only S.O can fill and constantly missing all my dear friends.

Then there are moments I just want to stay under my duvet and not go to work so I absorb this experience. I can tell myself yes you are here and yes things have changed. There is just so much happening, everywhere and all around.

But there are those moments that I am glad I am doing this London experience, right here and right now.

There is always home.

Hello London

Picture by Prixie

London welcomed me in style this morning - just look at the snow! Yes yes, I know it is obvious I am new to all of this. But wow, it looks so beautiful, clean and pure.

I am staying with my very dear friend (hereafter referred to as Vamp) in Brockley. In the picture is their back yard and their outside Mexican oven so they can have oven baked pizzas. I find it really quaint and charming. So is this area. I love it. I just wish S.O and Skanky were here to share the experience.

It's not a farewell, just a see you later later

My purple luggage is packed and ready to be found overweight. All that is left to add to that weight is my toothbrush and face cream. Then I speed off to the airport, sit snug for 15 hours of flying, transit and flying again. London, are you ready for me? Am I ready for you?

To all those that made my last few days in SA especially special, my deepest heartfelt thank you. (S.o, The Gang, Skanky, S.O's mum and dad, the Brother and Sister Person and so many others)I miss everyone already and I am still at home! For all those special trinkets and pressies, it will warm my heart on the coldest of days when I long for all that is familiar and cosy.

My S.O, what words can describe how my heart bleeds and aches right now? You have been at my side for the past seven years almost everyday. How do I get used to that vacant space next to me? How do I get used to not putting my head on your shoulder? How do I not cuddle up next to you while watching TV? How am I to be without you? Please remember, always, there is someone thinking about you and loving you every minute of the day in far off London. And yes, we will do a whirlwind tour of Amsterdam when you get there and well, you know...

See you all soon, very soon. Blessed be...

It's happening!

2008. Week 14. April 4. 2.30pm - I plunge into the familiar unknown. I know it simply because I have already felt the chilled London weather, used the tube and saw the Big Ben in my imagination. And I have already met pen pals while criss-crossing through Europe. But at 2.30pm on April 4 reality and dreams become one as I hop on a plane, destination London. Aim: working holiday. Something begins. Though nothing is really ending.

Going bye bye II

Skanky*, in her infinite web and photoshop genius ways, made this boarding pass for me. Alright, so I may not be flying first class nor British Airways nor landing at Heathrow but it is true that I am going to London. It is both terrifying and thrilling. And I will miss S.O and everyone I love more than my known vocabulary can explain. But I am taking the plunge. {Deep breath, and here I go...}

*Term of endearment

Gone bye bye

Slutty* took off on a plane on Sunday. She is gone to land of pasta, pizza and beautiful people on a lovely scholarship.

Even though there is a void in that special place she and only she occupied for her friends and family, I bet she is going to discover and be reborn. And while she will be missed, there is a greater good hard at work. Soon enough, we will all understand.

My dear Slutty, see you soon. Oh, and do not forget about that hunky Italian stallion for me.** Of course you can first find one for yourself.

* Some people may not understand, but it is actually a term of endearment. Others include Skanky, Slag, Tramp, Hoochie. The positions of Floozy, Hussy, Whore and Vamp are still vacant.

** No offence to my S.O, but an Italian is an Italian. You still my S.O.

Happy chocolate invasion

I think Valentines is one of my favourite times of the year. I can almost hear the collective groan but hear, eh, read me out. See, my reasoning is quite simple: it must be the only time of year where most people consume as much chocolate as moi. And the S.O obliged to give me the following Belgian bounty:

Yums Geldof Chocolates

In addition - I discovered a chocolate room! Nope, I did not stumble upon it and gobble it from roof to floor, much to my dismay. The room and I were rudely seperated by a television screen. But thanks to Tim Berners Lee and his wonderful creation, the Net, I found a news snippet and pictures of this room. It is too yummy not to share. Really, if there were more chocoholics in the world, it would be a better place.

Ali Larter, aka Jessica/Niki in Heroes is the lucky gal to see and taste the Godiva chocolate room.

Tingle tingle, BIG ache

There was once a girl who walked into work and said: "Come look at my flea bites everyone!" Curiosity got this cat and I saw she had little, red, itchy spots from the knee below. It made me feel scratchy all day.

But that gal was brave. You've got to give her that. If I had what she had I would quiver and cower in the corner, reminding myself that I am full of fleas, an object of disgust and disdain and not single soul should ever gain knowledge of my flea infestation.

That was then. And this is now. Now being characterised by a cold sore at the tip of my right nostril. Yes, it is gross, vile and ever so disgusting. People may even walk in the opposite direction in malls when they spot it. But the point I am trying to make is why should I feel so ashamed? People get infected with various bugs but, life carries on. I am tired of wanting to hide in my cupboard away from the worlds judging eyes.

And the cherry on this sundae is that it is mosquito season. Instead of getting bitten on my eye lid, I got bitten below my left eye. It is now puffy around my cheek bone area and I look squint. There you have it - the Frankenstein monster has been located in Jozi, SA.

And you know what? I am trying not to give a damn about looking beastly as my face heals itself. And while doing that, maybe I should walk into work and say: "Hey everyone come and look at my fever blister and mosquito bite!"

Cut it out already!

When a Zimbabwean national tells you: "Everything is fucked up," and he is not speaking about his home country but rather the electricity problem in South Africa well then, things are dismal.

Case in point - these power cuts. Eskom calls it 'load shedding' - what a very flowery way to say we have rolling blackouts. I am not sure how bad it is nationally, but Johannesburg is a disaster.

It all started in the second half of last year when they occasionally cut off power, maybe once or twice a week at night because they did not have the capacity. Gradually it became more and more often (different reasons for the lack of capacity at each time) and for these past eight days it has been everyday numerous times a day, each blackout lasting two to three hours.

I tried to go shopping but I had to abruptly stop. I tried to meet my deadlines early, but could not...my work flow was interrupted more times than I care to mention. I tried to publish this post on other occasions, but the electricity got cut. Traffic is a nightmare. You would not even want your mortal enemy caught in it.

There was an intensive campaign recently to educate people how to use less power, like switching off your geyser for example when it is not in use. I am sure the message hit home so why are we in this position?

I have now resorted to doing my work at night - it is now 2:33am - and to mail it through to my editors. Might as well do it now when there is power to do so.

We have a World Cup Soccer in 2010 and they say this problem could last for the next eight years! For the love of everything pink, can Eskom just do something already? Can they just team up with the necessary stakeholders and get their act together? C'mon this ain't the effing Dark Ages! Unless these guys want to take us back there.

Oh my heavens, it's heaven!

Double chocolate vanilla biscuits

Week one over and out

Good golly gosh gumdrops....the first week is already over. Is it just me or does time really move faster the older you get?!

I decided on reflecting on the past week or so because I'm afraid I'm going to forget:

December 31: Waking up in Dullstroom with S.O and his family. We gear up for sightseeing in Mpumalanga. I just got to see God's window - every other time I went up there it was too overcast and misty to see much of the beauty. I am quite excited because I see a crystal clear sky and blue as far as the eye can see. It is almost poetic to end the year at God's Window. And I buy angel earrings - hopefully they will gladly watch over me whenever it is needed.

January 1: I am not sure if I should make resolutions. I muse and fret and decide to make new habits - small things like brushing my teeth every night (it's been very sporadic in the past) and the big things like getting over my fear of achieving my dreams. Not like I am getting younger and settling into a comfortable life will make feel I as if I have cheated my self. I also jump on a honey coloured mare, called Chuvett, and stroll around the the estate where we are staying. Flies annoy her all the time and I suffer from immense guilt at riding an animal when I consider myself an animal rights activist.

January 2: At 8:30 am S.O, his mum and I decide to tackle to hiking trail. Lacing up my Bronx and putting on my hat, my hands shake with excitement. I love to hike. Sure, people can go to the gym and get a work out but there is just something different about the outdoors. We decide to deviate from the trail and go up the mountain, I suspect it was part of the Steenkampsberg Range. It was not that high, but the overview of the greenery makes me realise how beautiful nature is. Somehow we city dwellers forget that every so often.

January 3: After the last few days of activities, I want to stay curled up in a blanket in the lodge. S.O and I drive into Dullstroom and browse the idyllic shops. After lunch,we light a braai (ahem, the South African term for barbecue) for Potjtie (basically, its food cooked in a tripod pot outside). S.O and his parents enjoy the mutton potjie and I gobbled down a bean potjie.

January 4: It's sad to pack up and leave Dullstroom. Getting back into reality is always a bumpy ride. And well, it's time to pick up my socks and get my act together. There are dreams to be fulfilled, you know. After an Internet free week, I hurriedly log on again: my mail, my blog and facebook. I feel...connected.

January 5: After a quiet day with S.O at his house,we go with friends to a fancy smchancy restaurant at Monte Casino. I am thrilled to see three vegetarian options and order Curry Stir Fry in Coconut Milk on a bed of rice. I'm sad to say the veggies tasted very woody and smoked. Blech - I ended up paying R58 for eating the rice. I still fume thinking of the rip-off.

January 6: The day before S.O, and probably the rest of the world goes back to work. I got a call to go into the office for some freelance work, so it will be a dreaded Monday morning too. We hire DVDs and watch Spiderman 3 and The Simpsons movie. As usual, that zany family never fails to amaze me.

January 7: The dreaded Monday morning. I see Slutty and Skanky at the office. We catch up and that makes me feel really good. I miss them because it feels it's been ages - well, it actually was an age. And the dreaded Monday morning passes as work takes up my time. Before I can say good golly gosh gumdrops again, the day is over and Week Two begins.

To each and every one of you - may your 2008 be all it is meant to be.

Hip Hip Hooray!

Happy first birthday to Choco Mumbo Jumbo!

May it continue to inspire me and others to let wordsmiths prevail across this beautiful planet. Who knows, maybe one day we will rule the world.

PS: Thank you to the S.O's Sister Person for the appropriate candle - it smells like heaven ought to...a fusion of coffee, chocolate and ice cream. When I first laid eyes on it, I almost gave it a lick before I realised it was a candle.

And totally off topic: the Michael Bublé is a bad ass. Seriously, he said so himself at the most amazing live performance I've been to. He blamed journalists (a tad too much in my opinion!) for his nice guy image. But really, Mikey we journo's are not at all that bad. But let me admit that you are good, oh so very good on stage...and if you are like that in reality, well then I reckon you are a perfect guy. But let me stop writing as if he is going to read this. Back to his gracing Johannesburg with his everything.

Besides everyone being serenaded with his crooning voice, there was laughter and entertainment. Hell, it was as if I was at a stand up comedy night, a play and a concert all at one go. He is such a nice fella that he came into the crowd to take a picture with a very lucky eleven year old and his grandfather. On his way back to the stage, an even luckier lady got to grab his ass. Not only grab it but hold it and hoist it a bit into the air. Hubba Hubba!

There is a lot of sentimental value to his song Home. Before he sang it, he mentioned how difficult it was for him as an up and coming artist but there was a country where he was doing well. He then called his dad up to tell him:

Dad: Well, where is it?

MB: It's South Africa. (Crowd cheers) That is why when I am here I will always feel at home.

At that point I heard the beginning of Home. As my heart started to race out of my rib cage, I felt really hot and salty water stung my eyes. It was pure magic...from the first to the last moment.

As T.S Eliot once said: "We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

Oh boy!

Tis a strange strange world

The world turned on its head for a moment last night. Or at least for the duration of an intriguing movie on telly: Africa Paradis - meaning Africa Paradise in English. Set in a future where Europe has fallen to poverty while Africa has successfully merged to form a powerful United States of Africa, it centers around a computer programmer, Olivier and his girlfriend school teacher, Pauline.

They try to get a visa legally, and wait outside the African embassy in France. The queue is long and the French are desperate. Sadly for them, their visa is rejected whereby they decide to get into Africa illegally, and even work the menial jobs on offer, even though they are young, in the peak of their lives and very much so educated professionals.

Call me conditioned by society but I felt weird, to say the least, to see an influx of Europeans into Africa, even if it was in a movie....Our reality is the reverse. Most, if not all people from the developing world dream of the 'better' life they can get in the First World.

And here in South Africa, people immigrate in droves for different reasons: the crime, the unemployment and Lord knows what else. I mean, even S.O and I have had fleetingly discussions about leaving the country. Somehow the oodles of optimism just post 1994 seemed to have dwindled and I too, a self confessed patriotic, have been having second thoughts seep into the edges of my mind.

There are signs that things are not looking good, but I sometimes wonder if people are seeing a hurricane in a tea cup. Or am I being naive? Will I change my mind about this country if I have to experience how it is to live in distant shores, and not feel scared all the bloody time about becoming a statistic to crime. Yes, I admit, I am so cautious to a point of paranoia. I mean, you know you are losing it when you do not feel safe in your own bed and think every noise is someone trying to break into the house. Or that every stranger on the street has malicious intent. Or when you are scared of stopping at a red robot because there is a chance you may get hijacked. Yes, paranoia is now my constant companion.

And what is even a further dampener on the situation is the book I am reading: Swahili for the Broken Hearted: Cape Town to Cairo By Any Means Possible written by Peter Moore. Yes, Africa is beautiful but there are the things like corruption and crime that has a way of seeping into the story. And his experience in Johannesburg in particular, was distressing. And when you see it in black and white and in a book, it's hard to deny the reality of they way we live.

So all of this just got me pondering about my love for Africa, being an African (even though I have been told numerous times that just because I am not of a certain hue I am not African)where I belong, if I do actually belong and where to from here.

As yet, there are no easy answers, but then again are there ever?