Change is here!

Once again it feels as if it’s been an age since I last wandered around these here parts, Life has a way of bringing you back to the places you need to be though. So here we are!

The seasons have come and gone and a new one is emerging, the rains have started, the old leaves are being shed while new ones compete in whose colours are more striking.

As I stand in our kitchen and look outside our window, it is amazing how many various shades of red the leaves can take. From Rust to Mauve, and everything in between. Natures splendour never ceases to take my breath away. It’s always such a humbling experience when you can trace the passage of time by witnessing the changes happen right before your eyes. I’m forever charmed by natures wonders.

Speaking of changes; they are part and parcel of life aren’t they? Some are deliberate, planned and carefully implemented, while others descend upon you without any warning and may even sometimes catch you unawares. The latter, I find to be the most mysterious…one day you wake up minding your own business, going about your regular routines, and ‘out of the blue’ change comes knocking at your door. When change comes, you must yield, because one way or the other when it is time to change, it is time. It leaves no room for the whens and whys. The only way to receive an unexpected visit from change is by embracing it and accepting whatever new reality it brings. It doesn’t take too long, before a person can look around oneself and admit that well…this is my new reality, let me live it.

Our family had the most wonderful summer holiday, we did all that we had planned to and then some. We took full advantage of the positive energy that comes with summer and applied it to our everyday goings on. Summer has a way of allowing people to look on the bright side of things, it is even more easier to bid farewell to old grudges, one can simply revel in the lightness of the season and adopt the same attitude for oneself.

We relied on the hot and ever bright season to assist in bringing us more joy and laughter to our home, and the homes of those we love, and true to form, summer didn’t let us down.

I’m thankful to family, to nature , to change and to Life for always being around me and reminding me of what the really important things in life are. Now that the new season, Autumn is upon us, I feel the change stirring from within and can only hope that it is a promise of new and better things to come. This feeling, let’s me know that no matter what the conditions to come may be, there is a time for everything. A time to laugh, and a time to cry, a time to plant and a time to reap. At this point in time, we have planted a lot of seeds, and are awaiting the moment when the seeds will take root, start budding. Then new growth will become visible until the fruit is ready for the picking.

That is when the full impact of the change will be seen and felt.

Of course in the meantime, life goes on and this season will come and go, and winter will be with us once again. As cold and long as winter is, she too, has her own charm, so I keep reminding myself that ‘it only takes a spark, to get a fire going. But soon all those around it, can warm up from it’s glowing’

May you have yourself a wonderful New Season and give thanks to the promise of great things to come.

Isn’t it ironic?

Our four year old son is to me the best example of where all the various human tendencies originate. We all grow up seeing the world through our own lenses, and sometimes those of our loved ones. Some of the things that we do, come as second nature and go as unquestioned. I’ve noticed that being a parent has afforded me a grand opportunity to learn about human nature, in that we see the nature of ourselves reflected in our children. Someone once referred to children as mirrors, it is from them that you can see a clearer reflection of yourself.

Our son, as with many kids his age, is a happy, energetic, and rambunctious child. He is fond of any physical exercise, be it running, football, basketball, or wrestling. He is also an ardent Mummi watcher, and is game for anything comical. He plays jokes on us, laughs from the belly when happy and pleased, and cries with equal measure when he’s sad or disgruntled. After observing him over the years, it appears to me that there seems to be no half measures with this little one.

Over the last 4 years of raising him, I have learnt more things about myself, people, and our society, than I could have ever imagined. I have found that a child plays the role of a mentor in one’s life, and this experience has undoubtedly pushed my every button and I’m sure will continue to do so for a long time to come. Also, it has allowed me a chance to grow. I now realise that as the child grows so does the parent raising it.

Sometimes we think we can be prepared for all that a child can introduce into our lives, but this often is not the case, because of their unpredictable nature. Kids will say the strangest things, things which can knock you down for a loop. Often such utterances catch you unawares, off-guard and most likely unprepared. In a peculiar way, this almost always forces you to give an honest response considering that there is not enough time to fabricate a ‘standard’ response.

I often wonder…

What do parents think of children as we undertake the process of raising them? Do we feel that children are here to learn from us, and that our role is that of eternal teachers, and seldom students?

Why do we get roped in by societal norms, such as boy’s dress in blue, and play with guns and complicated machines, while girls wear pink, spend time brushing some doll’s hair and focusing on physical appearance. Even the gendered nature of the stories that we tell to children is bound to create some preconceived ideas of roles they must play. If girls are told tales of prince charming and knights in shining armour, coming to their rescue, away from their dull and unexciting lives, won’t these girls grow up with some similar expectation of always waiting on a man to come to their rescue? And with boys, with the focus being on physical strength, bravery and valour, are we not also creating the perception that boys can never be sensitive, intuitive and less inclined towards violence or aggression?

Children have an unbelievable capacity to absorb and remember information, thus one wants to take care not to condition them according to norms that seem to have their roots in ancient times. We pluck any old norm from relative obscurity, and apply it in our very different zeitgeist without really considering that they might be outdated. Considering that children teach us everyday who they are by their very behaviours, as well as what it is that they are inclined to; it would stand  to reason that it is better to rather allow them to just be themselves.

One of the strangest things about children though, is how they seem to be in such a hurry to be grown up. They want to be bigger in almost every aspect. They elevate boys and girls who are a little older than them to heroic proportions and they downright lionise adulthood.

The other day our son said that he wants to grow up quickly so that he can have a beard, although for the time being, he mentioned that he is happy with the beard on his arms, this had me in peals of ungovernable laughter, for he was dead serious about the arm hairs actually being a beard of which he is so proud to have since none of his friends at school apparently have . So I decided not to shatter the illusion by actually telling him that almost everyone has arm hairs…and that hair on arms is not the same as a beard. I figured that with age he would work that one out for himself.

He seems to have this unshakable belief that the older one gets the better life becomes- didn’t we all at some point in our childhood also buy into that misconception? How long did it take for that illusion to shatter? Granted from a child’s point of view grown ups get to do whatever it is that they want to do, it looks like being a child is actually a limitation, albeit a short term limitation, which the child believes, will rise above by the sheer natural process of growth.

I guess I could say to our boy that actually adulthood is not always what it seems, especially from a child’s perspective, and also that many adults envy children’s freedom.

We long for that age of innocence where things just happened around us, and there was very little expectation from us, apart from our being happy, fancy-free and footloose. The child’s job is generally understood to be about playing, learning , and growing.

Were I to explain all of this to him though, I imagine that at this point, It is not likely , that he would understand that grown ups long to relive or revisit some of their childhood moments, and that they are actually keen to awaken their inner child at any possible opportunity.

There’s something about growing up that makes us wish we could capture, and bottle the age of innocence that children possess. That essence that they seem to take for granted and are so ready to shake  off as quickly as one would shake off a hot coat on a summer’s day.

There’s the irony, as adults we wish we could be child-like and the children in turn ,wish they could be adults. That is just human nature it seems.

A foreign experience

As youngsters growing up in the ‘old South Africa’ and having witnessed the dawn of the new democracy in 1994, we had many peers whose families had been exiled from our country during the struggle against the apartheid regime.

We used to look at them with a mixture of admiration and envy as we couldn’t begin to imagine the kind of glamorous lives they had lead abroad. Most of them had been to the United States, Europe and others in the neighbouring countries of South Africa. Those who had lived in the States were the most enviable as they returned speaking with an American accent, most of them claiming they couldn’t speak any of their vernacular. We used to marvel at the way they dressed in such up to date styles sporting the latest fashion. These guys were beyond reproach, they were what we all wished we could be and one day hoped to be.

As it was a different zeitgeist where everything and anything foreign was deemed better than any local offering, such was the extent of our being brainwashed into believing ‘the American Dream’. Being avid consumers of mass media we couldn’t wait to experience for ourselves the life of being in a foreign land and living exotic lives.

Our heads were filled with romantic ideas of one day emigrating and living in the land of milk and honey. We couldn’t wait for the day when, as our grown up selves, we would embark on the journey that would lead us to our happy ever after.

We were so young then. It was the age of innocence.

Today in 2011, many years later, immigration is one of the most discussed topics in the world, one that elicits a myriad of reactions, ranging from fear, suspicion, hate and disillusion.

In some parts the word ‘immigration’ has become so loaded that it is synonymous to racism. There is no doubt that it is a contentious issue, and one that will remain a conundrum to the world for many years to come.

My family and I recently left South Africa to relocate to the Northern hemisphere in Finland. Since our family is a Finnish-African family, we decided to move closer to where my husband’s side of the family lives and see if we could build a life there. When moving from one country to another there are always high expectations, hopes and even romantic ideas about the new life that awaits at the end of the journey. Nobody expects it to be particularly easy, however no one can know just what it will take to get settled in that new country as there are so many considerations.

Starting a family life is a challenge anywhere, starting a new life in a foreign country can be daunting . I am sure that each country, has it’s own brand of challenges depending on various factors.

The question then becomes: does the experience of being in a foreign country meet the expectations?

One of the first things that happen when you have finally found your way to the country of your choosing is that reality of having relocated sets in, the fact that one has to start from scratch in almost everything becomes undeniable. There is no question about the seriousness of the journey ahead, the process of putting roots on unfamiliar soil is a long one.

Within months you come to terms with the expression ‘When in Rome do as the Romans do’, however the startling fact about this is that should you find yourself living in a country whose language is not English, it becomes obvious that the first thing to do is to learn the language. Above all else, communication is key, although learning any language as an adult is no easy feat. Doing so under pressure as your job prospects are contingent on speaking the language, this becomes the Everest!

Every foreigner has a different reason for having emigrated, it could be for love, work, or the search of a better tomorrow. There is often two forces at play, a pull towards the foreign land, when love is concern, and sometimes a push from your own country particularly in the case of war torn countries with instability.

One thing is certain, the experience of being an immigrant cannot be romanticised as it falls short of any idealistic notions that are often preconceived by would be immigrants. The reality is such that more often than never, as an immigrant you will be forced to face the facts of being an outsider often sooner than later. It is also going to be crystal clear that perhaps your position in society is already predetermined by virtue of your immigrant status. Whatever ideas you may have had about yourself, life, the world might have to change. There might even be a lot of shattered illusions. You will discover that your prospects of gainful employed in the job of your own choosing , preference or even qualification might be slim, if not altogether out of the question. For practical reasons, you may need to make peace with the fact that you could find yourself relegated to the underclass that currently exist in almost all countries who’ve opened their doors to immigrants. At this social strata is where you are most likely to find employment doing something rather socially undesirable, but nevertheless paying more handsomely than what one would ordinarily get from one’s home of origin. This brings another moral dilemma. Will you wait for your kind of work and not earn an income, or will you swallow your pride and get paid. Nothing short of a paradigm shift, is needed for a foreigner to make in roads within any new society in which they are trying to be integrated. For all intents and purposes, you will need to redefine who you are, re-assess who you thought you were, and who you want to be in this new life.

Not all experiences are the same, some people may find conditions in a foreign country to be incredibly favourable to them occasionally beyond their wildest dreams. Often this can be the case with high profile athletes, artist etc. This is a fortunate instance, when all things just seem to fall in to place and life picks up from where one left off, however this is more of an exception than it is a rule. There is of course no single story for any experience, including the life of immigrants.

It is undeniable that the quality of life in a first world country is in many ways a lot better than that in developing countries, for obvious reasons. Starting from social security, efficient transport system, access to internet and information, as well as improved health care, to having safety and security. The strength of the economy also allows for all those living in the country to not fall by the way side and end up live in the fringes of society, since even the socially undesirable jobs do pay well. In light of the above mentioned, regardless of what challenges a foreigner faces, the fact still remains that in the bigger picture, it makes more sense to remain in the foreign countries and to make the best out of their situation, than to find an alternative. After all, the passage to a new country is not always the easiest nor cheapest, thus once the decision has been made to move, it becomes prudent and vitally important to push on through to the finishing line.

When you meet an accountant turned street sweeper, or a Master’s graduate doing car guard duties, or a business analyst being a cleaner, remember that there are often a set of complicated circumstances that necessitated this phenomenon.

These individuals deserve the world’s respect, instead of being branded as people who go around the world stealing jobs and women/men as well as sponging off the government by being freeloaders who merely expect handouts. These are people who are looking to develop and improve themselves and their lifestyles, they seek recognition of their talents and a chance to contribute to whatever society they find themselves living in.

Struggles will continue to exist anywhere in the world, it is only the brand of the struggle that changes. How you navigates this life depends entirely on what choices you make, and how far you are willing to compromise. Sometimes the choices can be somewhat difficult in the short term yet prove to be fruitful in the long run.

Essentially, finding yourself in a new country, can also afford the opportunity to redefine yourself, revisit your values, and focus on your goals. It offers you something of a second wind. The best way to meet and greet the challenges on the way, is with a shot of courage, a dollop of humour and the will to succeed against any odds.

Best foot forward!.

 

Before the beginning

On this day last year, we said goodbye to all that we knew in Cape town, journeyed across the African continent to the Northern parts of the globe- Finland. Armed with hope and the promise of a new life. The opportunity to leave had finally met preparedness.

As with most travellers, we were optimistic, excited and slightly unnerved, but nothing could hold back our high hopes and big dreams. As you know, there is nothing more refreshing than the knowledge of having new possibilities, choices and chances. We couldn’t wait to find out what the future had in store for us. Off we went leaving African soil the one day, to arrive the next day to what would be our new home for the next undetermined period of time. We were good and ready!

Our arrival was well planned to coincide with the middle of the Finnish summer, so we were not disappointed by the eternal days, with lovely sunshine and natures bountiful offerings. We took advantage of the organic fruits and vegetables available at the family’s summer cottage – a profusion of choices, from berries, to fresh basil and beans. It was nothing short of a vegetarian’s paradise.

Of course as with anything unknown, having mixed feelings is standard, yet regardless, one continues to keep the hope alive that all will work out fine, come what may. To be honest the easiest part of the process of changing countries was the decision to move, the purchasing of tickets and acquiring of visas. These were all fairly straight forward. What wasn’t altogether clear was other logistical matters such as, how long it would take to find our own place, secure jobs, find schoolings etc, you know the basic day to day issues of daily living. As the great team that we are, we knew that perseverance and endurance would be key for us to build a future with all the realistic odds that were stacked against us.

After having lived in CT for a number of years, it was no secret to us how things can get difficult when building something from scratch, so we had a bag of tools we had collected from previous experiences.

As Murphy would have it, on the third week of our stay in Finland, I had a freak accident, snapped my Achilles heel, got hospitalised and operated on, and was rendered immobile for a couple of months. Granted this was not an ideal way to start a new life- in fact it was the last thing we could have imagined would happen to any of us, however, when life throws you a curve ball, you learn to adapt and roll with the punches. We soldiered through the summer with me on crutches, while we nonetheless were trying to make in roads within the society. Needless to say, most of our illusions were shattered almost instantly, however, sometimes illusions do need to be sheltered. We had to face reality, re-assess our situation, and regroup before we could take the bull by the horns and start our new life.

The business of new beginnings has it’s pros and cons, the trick has been for us to find a balance, and to constantly do so. The status quo keeps altering all the time.

We have had great times and some not so great, but through it all, we have really found new meaning in the expression ‘when the going gets tough, the tough get going’ We have laughed, cried and smiled through the process of putting down roots- nobody said it would be easy. We have been through the fiery furnace and came out the other side in one piece fortified. For that I am grateful.

In the last year we have met our objectives, reached our short term goals, and achieved things that seemed insurmountable when we started. Life has never been so good! There is so much that I could recall and recount, but in the interest of space and time cannot. All in all, We are happy that we have made it this far, and trust that as the journey continues, the next phase will bring us more surprises that will continue to enrich our life as a family.

To my partners in crime, I am proud to have you as my family. I look forward to the next coming years of our building this life that we call ours.

May we never get too tired and weary, may we always find strength from being a team.

You guys are aces in my booksJ

 

Days of summer!

Summer is here once again! How lovely it is to have longer days, warm and sunny. It’s even easier to wake up ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed’ for no reason at all. This is my first Finnish summer after having had a Finnish winter- I must confess that after the shockingly long and snowy winter, one can’t help but feel overly excited over the subtlest ray of sunshine. Summer does become a bigger deal than normal once you’ve experience many months of very little light and sometime no sunshine to speak of for days- from which I am only now recovering . The thing about summer time is that it has a transforming effect, it really changes people’s disposition. In these here parts you can almost see the difference in the way people change from the one season to the next. There are visible changes in the way they interact with others, every one seems to tread with a new and lighter spring in their step. The magic of summer is here!

I have always loved summer, I was a summer baby. However in all of my living years , I have never quite felt this much excitement just because summer had come – it makes me wonder; am I becoming soft with old age? Or was the Finnish winter that severe? Well…maybe it’s a bit of both. What ever the reason may be, it is a good thing.

As the whole nation is preparing for their holiday time….most will be going to their summer cottages to commune with nature and maybe even get in touch with their roots (however that works). Their days will be characterised by lovely saunas, dips in the lake, picking of berries and mushrooms and most likely visits by mosquitoes. It’s all part of the fun. The already long days will get even longer until for one night there is only 2 hours of dark and 22 hours of daylight-this is midsummer. A rare phenomenon to one such as me, one I certainly look forward to experiencing for the second time ever.

The question is; what will I be doing during my summer vacation? The plan is to have fun! I may have no summer cottage to visit, but I do have the two most important men in my life to spend my sunny days with. I intend to play football like it were a competition, I shall blow as many bubbles as the wind can manage to scatter in every direction, and I shall love and laugh like it is going out of fashion. These are the few things I know summer favours and since I, for one, feel this overwhelming joy at having this season come, I intend to make every moment count.

Apart from the above mentioned, My family and I will also include some leisure time to travel, most likely by ship on a cruise to Sweden. This is the perfect time to brave the deep blue seas while having a whale of a time.

What brought all of this up you ask?

Today I woke up feeling good for no reason at all, and methinks that I can count on many more days that will begin the very same way.

Am I making too big a deal of just a new season?

Maybe, but in the spirit of this moment, I have to say,that is neither here nor there. I am just loving summer and it is feels great. I will get my kicks from it, and I sure hope you will too.

Ps, I forgot to say that above all, I intend to safely sunbathe as much as my dark skin can absorb…after the long winter, goodness knows, my skin needs the vitamin D and this is finally my opportunity to make up for lost time.

Happy summer holiday!

 

Lessons…

Children are really the greatest teachers about our nature, life and the world. From an early stage you can observe the origins of all kinds of tricks, techniques and methods that we employ to navigate life in our later years.

Lately I’ve started to notice how kids negotiate positions in the playground…their world. Who the leaders are and who are followers. More often than never the leaders are rarely the kindest or nicest of the group, in fact it is as if the leaders have to give the impression that they are untouchable.

They dare to wear their caps backwards, refuse to wear gloves and even go as far as picking on the younger or meeker ones to show their own strength and coolness.

This is not at all different to what we see in the Big wide world of grown ups.

Our four year old son has come of an age where his self awareness is dawning. He has started to notice all kinds of details about himself, other people and his surroundings. Being a child he naturally has an enquiring mind and is pretty vocal about his observations and findings. Often he says something that makes you stop and think- really consider why certain things happen a certain way. Some of the things he says are hilarious and others are disturbing to say the least. What kids also offer us is a glimpse of the kind of world we’re living in.

Recently our boy has had a mild fixation with Africa, coming from Africa and being African. This of course did not come as a surprise as he has always been encouraged to take an interest in the world map and the globe. His awareness of different continents was awakened a long time back, before he could even comprehend what it means to be African.

His idea of Africa have also mainly been shaped by various children’s programmes such as Madagascar, The Lion King etc, so he, like most kids his age who do not live in Africa, associates Africa with Lions, zebras and all sorts of other wild animals. His mates at the playground also associate the African continent with what the media has shown them Africa to be.

The parents however, have got much more different ideas and opinions of Africa, what is means to be African in a western country, and what Africans are about. Their opinions might also in part be shaped by how the media portrays Africa . In the true style of parents of young children, they say their opinions whether positive or negative, ever so freely in front of their children , not taking into consideration that children are like sponges-they have the capacity to absorb a great many things.

A few weeks back it came to our attention that at the play ground some of the kids our son plays with had told him ‘to go back to where he came from’.

You can imagine the range of emotions one goes through at hearing such a statement being said by an innocent four year old. Disturbed as we were, we fully realised that these utterances could not have come from the minds of other four year olds. Those kids cannot even comprehend the full extent of what they had said …so how does one address a matter such as this? Clearly those children must have heard these things being said either at home from parents or relatives or even older siblings. The question then became, how do we teach our child to navigate the world filled with prejudice, hate and often bigotry. How do we protect him from hateful encounters that he may experience? At the age of four, how do we as parents make him understand what these things mean?

This was for us a wakeup call of note. This meant that as parents to our child we have the responsibility to teach him while still at a tender age, that there are such things as racial disparities, and that some people are inclined to have hateful feelings about people who are different to them. Also we have the responsibility to teach this child to have unshakeable confidence in himself, who he is and where he comes from. Naturally these lessons would have been taught to him either way as he needs to be prepared for living this life.But….

Who would have thought that such lessons would need to begin at such a young age?

There is only so much that can be done with regards to the here mentioned incident, the responsible children who had said this to our boy could be called to task, they also need to be talked to about difference and not ‘othering’, the teachers too need to be made aware of such occurrences so that they can also know that it has become necessary to speak openly about issues of racial differences. We could also talk to our son about acceptance of himself and of others.

There are a number of things that could be done to try and deal with this matter.

Having said all that, this still does not ,in my opinion address the core of the problem. The parents. What about the parents from whom I believe these opinions of racial prejudice have come from? Will they be spoken to ? if so by whom? Whose responsibility is it? While the teachers are addressing the children and teaching them about acceptance, who will teach parents not to poison their children with their negative ideas? There might not be an answer to any of these questions, for even though we all say we live and learn, some people are not that eager to change their ways.

Unfortunately, as things stand, one can only hope that the tomorrow that our young ones find themselves in will a better one. Hopefully difference will become a thing to learn from and to celebrate, rather than to dislike or feel threatened by.

I’m no expert at these matters and have definitely got no answers to offer, but I can only live in hope. Just like my parents before me lived in the hope that there would be a better future for us when we grew up. Now that I’m all grown up it appears the cycle continues…

A simpler time…

As children growing up in rural Transkei, we were vaguely aware that somewhere there was a more modern world existing in some far away places, remote places relative to where we were. A distant world it was, one of running water, electricity and microwaves- far removed from what was our reality. We used to go on about with our daily routine as if that was all there was to life, maybe for us it was. We had our way of life, and the routine was pretty straight forward.

As a girl you would wake up at a certain appointed time, perhaps 7 in the morning, and do your daily ablutions-which involved, first going outside to find a basin (i-vaskom) from which you’d be taking your bath, finding maybe a 5 litre bucket to pour the water you were to use for the bath. Collect the water and find a three footed pot in the fireplace outside, where you would have your water boil. As soon as it came to a boil, you’d decant it into the bucket to carry it to your selected spot-or room where you would then take your bath, mostly standing up or kneeling, depending on which part of the body you were cleansing. This of course was just the beginning of the day. With the daily ablutions done one was now ready to get into the flow of things. Eating was of course the first concern, but it was never too complicated as breakfast was more or less the same every morning, A bit of buttered steamed bread and Tea or coffee with fresh milk straight from the cow, or maybe porridge, all of which apart from the warm drinks, were home-grown…organic one could say. This type of food was enough sustenance for the body for most of the day till lunch time.

Assuming it wasn’t a school day, one would know without being told what chores one had for the day, and therefore could get on with it. Much importance was placed on cleanliness, of the spaces indoors and outdoors. For the outside merely collecting stray rubbish or bones for the dogs and sweeping would suffice. Although the spaces were wide and far apart, this part of the day was always done at a leisurely pace-so one felt no real pressure to perform. As with the indoors, well, that was a different story, for depending on what kind of floor the room to be cleaned had, one would need either a broom, a cloth, some floor polish or ubulongwe-cow dung. Now there was always a room that required some fresh cow dung to get it into it’s mint condition…usually the room which had a fire place at it’s center. A type of rondavel- hut. The cow dung was for ukusinda- which is like hand ‘painting’ the floor with soft almost wet cow dung, making patterns if one wished and ensuring that every corner-if there were any, had a layer of the cow dung. The process took a lot of patience and endurance, but was found to be not as unbearable to a regular as to one who has never done it would think. I personally did not favour this particular chore, for on account of having had extra fingers that were earlier removed, I found that the use of the sides of my hands was rather an uncomfortable experience, so I much rather preferred another chore which was to go to emthonjeni- the well or spring, to get some water. Now this I didn’t mind too much, except that it did also have it’s pros and cons. The nice thing about having to go get water from the well was that it was an outdoors activity, so in the summer it gave a lovely opportunity to go for a stroll and have a bit of a chin wag with your mates that you met there. The well was a gathering place for the girls-both young and old. For young boys too sometimes, when they needed to get udongwe-mud for making small figurines of mainly animals, such as cows of horses, depending on the extent of one’s talent.

At our regular ‘water hole’ there was almost always a crowd of girls gathered chatting up a storm and having a relaxed time, while waiting in an unformed queue, which decided whose turn it was to go get the water next. Sometimes the water would take time to fill up as it was coming straight from the ground-mother nature providing, one could only wait and hope that the spring would keep filling up.

As a young girl one’s age determined the size of the bucket you were expected to carry on your head. At age 7 or 8 one could manage a 5 litre bucket on the head, it was easier than carrying it by hand for long distances. It was easier of course once you had learnt the art of ukuncekelela-balancing the bucket on your head with both of your hands free. This took time, but inevitably as a girl you would learn and master this art. I generally enjoyed the long walks to and from the spring, for if alone this allowed you some solitude, a time to just be, and with company there was always much chatting as we walked in a line one after the other following the footpath that lead back to our home.

The drawing of water was both a pleasant and unpleasant exercise depending on the needs of that day. Most of the water was needed for things like washing clothes and for cooking, water from a tank was used-if there was a tank in the family. The cooking was of course always part of the day as it had It’s own intricacies. If an outside fire was to me made, one needed to get some fuel for the fie, which meant girls had to go and get amalongwe-dry cow-dung made into small, dry pie-like shapes. This I imagine was a substitute for coal. It burnt more effectively than wood, but wood was also necessary to start the flames and get the fire going. To get the fire going took a while, but once ready and blazing it was time to get the three foot pot get some water and ingredients for whatever one was intending to make. If making umgqusho (samp- dried de-shelled corn with beans) the process could take longer for each of these items required quite a while to cook to get soft. Usually most of the morning could be dedicated to the cooking of this particular meal. While waiting for the food to be ready, one could always have a jar or cup of amarhewu-this is a drink made of ground corn-sometimes left to ferment other times not, a sort of liquid porridge with sugar which went down very nicely when cold on a hot day and visa versa. This drink gave energy, so one was able to continue with the days work feeling recharged somewhat and oh did it also quench the thirst.

When the food got ready there was eating and again we’d go through the process of cleaning up, washing up of the dishes, giving some left over food to the dogs and or pigs. Basically organising the space. The next thing on our daily routine would be to play and socialise with friends. The games differed, if it wasn’t 3 tins, or dusha- both required a small ball the size of a fist, fashioned from cloth, or plastic and stalking; or Ugqaphu- skipping rope, it would be iiketo ( a game played to enhance motor skills and hand and eye co-ordination, which required for you to have maybe 10 to 15 small stones-the size of a coin, which one threw up in the air and caught with one hand, while picking up another simultaneously- with them both ending up in your fist ) A bit hard to describe I guess, but this was a favourite time indeed to let loose and get some exercise. The playing could go on for hours at one of our homes mostly or outside our yard, until one was called to return home and then get ready for the evening chores….

The chores seemed never ending.

When I now look back, this kind of life seems like a lifetime ago, a distant memory in another era altogether. It feels almost surreal to recall this after all that has changed, but as dreamlike as it sounds now, it was real.

What seemed to be real then, now feels like a dream, and back then, what seemed to be a dream is now a reality. It makes you marvel at how things have changed, and yet somewhere out there they continue to stay the same.

Am remembering a much simpler time indeed!

The very best Teachers.

Nobody presses one’s buttons like children do. They push the boundaries so far out that you find yourself face to face with your own limits or limitations. The point of departure is that children are innocence personified, and that during their age of innocence there is much that one can learn from what they do and what they bring out in adults. It takes a while I imagine for a small child to really develop a malicious streak if at all, for the most part they are about being mischievous or just trying to have some fun at any cost.

They may say things that make us cringe, or do things that knock us for a loop or just be down right recalcitrant. This is part of them merely doing childhood. Sometimes, we may find ourselves laughing and shaking our heads at their pranks, or positively unsettled and dismayed at other times.

The way adults react to any of the antics that ‘doth unfix our hair’, is a function of what is within the particular adult at a given time. They say that when a toothpaste tube is squeezed, it is what is inside that will come out, and such is the case with what children bring out. They have that effect.

Often times these little cherubs can bring out the most divine of qualities from the adults around them, at those moments one could swear that ‘yes indeed children are heavenly beings’. Then there are those times when the self same celestial beings bring out the very ‘worst’ in us, again it’s par for the cause.

Now as much as nobody wants to have the worst brought out of them, one can’t deny that perhaps the worst shouldn’t be inside anyway, it ought to be vented out, shed a light upon and possibly expelled.

So when a small person does or says something that positively shocks us as adults, we must do a self inquiry to find out what exactly it is within us that makes us react the way we react when we are being, pushed, challenged or ‘exposed’ by the actions of little ones.

From personal experience, I have come to learn to appreciate every wayward comment, unwarranted meanness, and strange remark that I am exposed to at the hands of these little people. I am learning to use the opportunities that these actions offer for me to see aspects of myself that I otherwise wouldn’t know to look at.

In my older years I have perhaps become somewhat jaded, and have developed mechanisms to dismiss any information from people that creates cognitive dissonance by just saying, ‘ Ah People are just people, they will do, say and think whatever they want regardless of what you hope for or expect’. Developed low expectations of people one might say. This mechanism of course has been one of defence. This way one doesn’t have to acknowledge everything said or done that is unsettling let alone take responsibility for one’s own reactions.

The beauty of having children say and do the strangest things to push one’s buttons, is that one cannot dismiss or avoid seeing one’s own reactions. This somewhat forces one to face whatever preconceptions, beliefs and un-investigated ideas about life and the world one may have had.

This is when the truth of what you believe shines through, the children are merely the spotlight that directs you to where the issues may be.

How wonderful it is to have little mirrors living and breathing, walking around reflecting to us who we are inside as well as who we think we are.

Thank Goodness for small mercies! Children do help us to heal and grow. Having them around provides us with invaluable education and information about our own selves that we definitely need in life. So let’s watch, listen and learn from kids, while also remembering to let them just be, they are only that young once! Another thing worth remembering is that children are to be taken with ‘a pinch of salt’ after all, they are only children.

More power to the little ones! Salute!

Are we listening?

Its funny how people find it easy to discount one’s opinion if they consider one to be an angry person. As if what is said by an angry person has no bearing. When did it become fashionable to assume that should a person speak with anger, what they are saying is not valid. Has it become that convenient to ignore other people’s opinions carelessly? If they come across angry, is it not worth investigating or just thinking critically about why they are angry? Too many questions, I know.

We all live with labels whether we like it or not. Being a woman of the darker hue, I have more often than never been labelled as angry, militant, aggressive and even loud. I have many a time been discounted and dismissed as just another angry black woman, who knows? even now as I write this I am aware of the fact that someone might just be thinking, ‘oh there we go again, yet another ABW’.

One person’s anger is another one’s passion, only as a black woman one is most likely to be branded rather angry than passionate.

I had the strangest experience today at our son’s day care on the playground. This is my son’s second month at the school, so it is still a relatively new environment for all of us. Every morning and afternoon the kids are allowed to go outside for some play time- weather permitting. This of course is a treasured time by the kids, as they get to mess about in the snow, run along and play to their heart’s content. As parents we usually get a moment to observe the children at play when we come to take them home at the end of the day. From time to time, it has come to my notice that there are these two kids who are constantly in what looks like peals of ungovernable laughter, usually resulting from them having said something about some other child, which they find to be incredibly hilarious. The finger pointing happens, the laughter breaks out, and which ever poor individual at whose expense the joke is, has no choice but to keep their head down or move away from the laughter. Now these are just kids, and we all know the saying, ‘boys will be boys’

Since I happen to be at the playground on a daily basis, I get to observe these ‘naughty boys’ at play and often see how the teachers are at their wits end trying to keep them under control, to no avail. At those particular instances, I try to turn a blind eye, mind my own business and pretend not to see just how these children are giving the teachers a run for their money. Out of embarrassment maybe, or just out of compassion and respect for the adults. Either way my modus operandi has usually been to pretend not to see, and do what I came there to do, collect my son and leave. This approach seemed to work, until of course the one day when as I entered the playground I heard the familiar jeering and taunting, which was not out of character,however upon closer inspection I discovered that the object of ridicule was none other than my very own beloved son. You can imagine the haste with which I advanced towards that trio, the lioness in me was now fully alert, and as soon as I arrived I hoped that perhaps the kids would let up, but lo and behold, they continued to jeer and shout in our direction in a language that is foreign to me, while pointing fingers at both my son and I.

No, they didn’t! is what was crossing my mind. Now remember, I had seen how these kids operate and knew that I was not going to engage in any contest with them about what they were doing, especially since there was the language barrier plus, it would be futile to engage with them on any level anyway at that point. Instead, I took my son by the hand, and sought out the head teacher, to air my grievances and express my displeasure, tell her how unimpressed and disgruntled this here mother was.

Well, as you can imagine, the poor headmistress by now knows that I don’t shy away from expressing my views, particular when I believe that a change is needed, so one can imagine that she already knew by the haste in my step that perhaps something was amiss. I proceeded to recount the details of what had just happened to me and my son out there on the playground. The first question she asked me was, ‘did anyone of the teachers witness this?’, ‘Well…I said, this just took place less than a few minutes ago, I don’t actually know whether they saw it or not, the point is I am telling you that this has just happened’ Now, I’m thinking, what do you mean did any of the other teachers see it, what are you implying? And what has that got to do with the price of soap?’ Anyway, she then proceeded to apologise, excuse and explain the behaviour of these children. She mentioned how they have been in numerous meetings with a psychologist trying to come up with solutions of how to address the behaviour of these now notorious boys. She said, that we were not the only people to complain about this pair.

As she was promising to figure this out, and find a solution for this problem, it occurred to me that maybe this was just a pointless exercise. Perhaps the persons who should be spoken to hear are the parents, after all these kids are 4 or 5 years old- how can this be about them?

Well, after a few minutes of talking albeit aimlessly about this matter, I took my child and went home to get on with life eager to put the whole episode behind us.

The next morning as fate would have it, I bumped into the very same children at the front door, the mother of one of them, and a teacher were present. This was the golden opportunity to speak about the issue I thought, so I greeted and asked if I could have a moment of the mother’s time. She was unfortunately in the midst of trying to persuade her son to go inside and as was the teacher . Apparently the two boys were resisting and were just running circles around the mom and teacher. I waited patiently for the commotion to subside-which it eventually did, but while we were standing there waiting to either go in, or talk to the mom, the children started shouting and jeering in the same fashion and started pointing fingers at my son and I. This in full view of the teacher and the parent. The boys were exhibiting their unruly behaviour and both the ladies present witnessed the spectacle. So, I said to the mother that the matter I had wished to discuss with her was that of her son’s behaviour which did not need explaining, considering that she had just seen it for herself. She said to me not to take this personally, because they do this to everyone, they even do it to her. Excuse me? This woman then said, that these are just children we shouldn’t be upset at them, they are just kids who mean no harm. I said I understand that they mean no harm, but I will not tolerate the disrespect. The issue at hand here was not what they mean or do not mean, it was the sheer lack of respect they had just displayed for all of us present at that moment. She said, she did not teach her son at home to behave this way-which to me was a non statement, for it is immaterial for that goes without saying, the point is that she has a recalcitrant child, and she needs to take responsibility for that.

Is that not what we as parents have to do? I just failed to understand why she would want to defend and exonerate herself from the situation, it was blatant that there was a behavioural isssue and it had now got out of hand. So after ministrations from both teacher and mom, the boys still refused to go inside, now she had to do something to make these boys co-operate. At this point I knew that the conversation was over I had said what needed to be said, and that if I wanted to talk further, I would have to wait till kingdom come for those two boys to obey, so I thanked the woman for listening and bid her goodbye. She promised to talk to her son and went on to plead and beg her son to go inside. I left and went on my way while the commotion continued.

Once I got home, I could not get this episode out of my mind, and decided to vent my spleen once again by writing about this.

What is going on in our society? When did children decided how they will or will not behave, who is responsible for their good behaviour or lack there of? Who is to be held accountable?

I do not place myself as a judge, the truth is I know that no mother wants to be told that there is something wrong about their child or the child’s upbringing, however in the interest of the greater society, we as the parents have the responsibility to draw boundaries for our children.

Of course, my point of departure was on being branded and labelled as an Angry Black Woman, well, needless to say that to me the encounter with all the teachers that I have complained to before about these boys, has left me acutely aware of how little the women I spoke to seemed to be listening to me. Is it my imagination? Or am I just scratching where there is no itch?

If I am angry or militant, is it a surprise that I as a black woman have become that way?

These of course become rhetorical questions as I really don’t expect any answers to them as they tend to cause too much cognitive dissonance. So for the time being, I shall continue being the observer that I find myself to be, and will speak at any instance where I believe my voice should be heard. Whether one comes across as an Angry Black Woman or not, one must speak up. Whether one is deemed angry or not is subject to interpretation. We must take responsibility for how we listen to and hear other people’s voices, otherwise we may miss very important opportunities to engage in a constructive manner. Here I rest my case.

Camagu.

Jogging the memory

Remembering…

Often life happens at such a pace that we forget to remember the good things that have happened over time. It seems like the mind and her eye remembers mostly the aspects of life that were rocky, unpalatable and particularly unpleasant. I find that we long for good things to happen, we hold our breath waiting for the day when such and such a thing will happen, but once it does happen, it quickly disappears from the forefront, and sometimes gets stored somewhere in the back of our minds where most other ‘great’ things have found a home.

The negative experiences however, have a way of keeping centerstage, we nurse them, revive them, turn them this way and that. The amount of time we give to the unpleasant is surprisingly much and yet we wonder why it is that the negative and ‘bad’ memories seem to be ever fresh and vivid in our minds.

This year let the mind’s eye remember all the good and not dwell on the bad, or rather dwell on the good and forget the bad.

The mind is a good servant but a terrible master, let us learn to master our own minds, and by doing so, find our way to hold on to that which brings us joy and light, while letting go of that which limits and constrains us. We have a choice, we must exercise it, and choose for a change to hold on only to that which is worth holding on to.

In this new year, I pledge to remind myself to always remember the good and not allow the ‘bad’ to take over, At best I want to learn to treat opposition with ease and to be conscious of all manifestations whether good or bad in my existance. I pledge to judge less what is good and what is bad, but rather to treat events, happenings and occurences equally.

Perhaps over time I can effortlessly recall all the good things, and hopefully with difficulty I will remember the sad times.

This is what I want to remember, to never forget, but to take with me that which builds me, and let go of the rest.

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