Thursday, 6 May 2010
family news
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
Saturday, 1 May 2010
It's not over till it's over
It’s our last day and there’s a lot to do. So why did we stay up till silly o’ clock drinking wine and hanging out with our New Best Friends John and Susan who have lent us their flat? There’s a bit of me that wonders if we’ll ever get home. We heard Peyman and family didn’t fly out after all this week, but have been put back to the 10th. I’m sure that won’t happen to us. But there are still a few hoops of fire to jump through and camouflage nets to crawl under – Durban opened its’ brand new airport today and we heard that even the staff don’t know where things are! So we’ll be one of their first passengers…. if we can find the airport in the first place of course. We haven’t got lost for two days straight now but it’s not easy. Did I mention Durban is in the process of changing all its’ road names? The old names are being changed to Zulu names, which are not on the map of course. Also there’s lots of road works and diversions because they’re sprucing up ready for the world cup. Anyway the plan is that we fly to Johannesburg tomorrow at 10.30, then we wait around at that airport until our elusive night flight at 8pm. That’s an awful lot of rounds of Snap.
We had a special meal today and I gave out certificates of bravery… eg. Evie conquered her fear of jellyfish stings, and took it on the chin when she toppled over and grabbed on to a tree trunk for support, but it turned out to be a huge cactus/ tree with spines sticking out of the trunk – ouch. Finlay has become a brave bodyboarder and at one point ate a tomato. Isaac conquered his fear of talking to people who he doesn’t understand easily, and swam in some deep water. Col rescued us from a frog in the house (in a jug with a towel on top – talk about fortitude) I could go on, but you get the picture.
We have had a blast – there’s many snapshots that come to mind as I write – the lady whose house had fallen on top of her in the night; Pete at the farm in Clarens, showing us his glass blowing in the dark, and then producing a baby elephant out of the flames, perfectly formed with tiny ears rippling back as if it were walking – we were enraptured, it’s a wonder we didn’t cause him to burn himself as we were a very interactive audience; the guy who said our accents sounded like Jamie Oliver; the crocodile man who’d had the shirt ripped off him; the couple who were refugees from The Conga, who’d just lost a sister in crossfire back home; the one armed man who sold us a hat at the Lesotho border; Obeking, the little boy who showed us around Dihlebeng School and, realising he was on to a good thing missing lessons, read out every single bit of work on the walls of every classroom, “OK, so this little girl, she says she’s learning about earthquakes, see?. .… and this little boy he says he is too…”; Gavin and the Clarens crowd around a mighty BBQ, cooking steaks the size of the cushions we put on garden chairs; the potato seller who laughed his head off when the tarpaulin roof gave way and soaked me to the skin with skanky water; the waiter who couldn’t hide his terror when we reported that there was a snake under the table; Gibson, the kids’ first little friend who put his arms around their shoulders and helped them settle in; the Zulu actor saying she didn’t think her suitor was up to scratch, “I no marry you, you is ug!”; Megan and Drew’s daughters tucked up all in a row across the bed, with Evie in the middle, not believing her luck; the kids way back at Bokletsa Bana who thought our white man’s noses were so hilarious because they’re so pointy. Heh heh! People, people everywhere - we’ve loved it.
They’re not like the people at home though – nothing can compete with that kind of quality! Which reminds me – HAPPY WEDDING DAY to the Knights!! X x x x x
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
hello from the hobo's
Did you know hobo is short for 'Homeward bound'? Which we most certainly are not. It seems that we are the last ones stranded - everyone else we have heard of has made it home. But we are trying to have fun, with almost 100% success! We moved into a flat on Sunday, kindly lent to us by a couple we’d never met. It's our 8th bed of the trip (11th if you count beds we have left and returned to! I worked this out on a long journey - sad I know.) To celebrate that it is our last bed, allegedly, I unpacked and hung everything up. Yey! We have slowly got the hang of Durban since, but we have got lost many many times too. I have made an effort to put the crime stories to the back of my mind, and anyway when you are among people who live here you just have to get on with it. So we have.
On Sunday we went to church and had lunch with Drew and Megan who were hosting Julian Adams – a bloke we have seen from afar and never met - who has a gift for bringing in the immediacy of God – well exciting. Our family had a series of mishaps throughout church, with Evie falling on to the corner of a metal screen just as it started. She had a yellow/green bump the size of a walnut on her head with a small nick on top. Eeeeeeew!! But by the time I picked her up from the kids club she was jumping up and down on the top of a climbing frame as if nothing had happened. Isaac was bleeding from both toes (football) and then Fin came to me bleeding from the back of a head (tree). It’s never dull. And it made sure everyone got to know us.
We met up with Peyman and Diane from Worthing yesterday at a water park. It was a cool place, really well designed eg. As you floated around the Easy River on a rubber ring, you’d float past the sharks in their tank from the aquarium. There was a water chute that used rubber boats that fitted our whole family inside so we whizzed down there with extra glee. So much fun. It was a bad day to be a muslim though – I felt sorry for the women completely covered up except their eyes, how boiling hot and bored they must have been. And even the guys going down the slides etc – in long trousers and tunics all clinging and wrinkled in the wet.
We have had some good chats with the kids in Durban because it is as if all the extremes we’ve seen round Africa are condensed in to one big melting pot, plus a few different populations thrown in too. At the traffic lights you get people begging at the car window – sometimes holding a baby or pointing to their disability. Our children say we should give them something, but if we did that every time we'd soon run out of money. We've talked about how poverty is very complicated. In Lesotho it seemed as if women were holding the whole show together. It's the women chopping wood, carrying stuff by the roadside, babies on their back, working all day then caring for the family. We met so many kids who were home alone for the day cos mum or aunty is working (even making bricks - so physically demanding). Where are the men? "Drinking" they'd say. (Or AWOL. Or dead. Or HIV+). It's a huge problem that we have just brushed alongside for a few weeks and observed, and I guess our children will have a very black and white view of it, like children do. There are many issues back home but they are more hidden than here, so we've concentrated our chats around what our response will be back in Worthing. Child 2's idea: "Get everyone to come to church then they will hear about love and nocturnal life*" Hmmmm, maybe...
*eternal life