The Lowdown on Skivvies

Since this blog is about becoming an American African, and since I'm running out of material, I thought it's time to broach a delicate subject: underwear shopping.

You might think that underwear is the same the world over, but I can tell you from experience that this is emphatically not true. For instance, my 7-year-old son needs new underwear. I went to the shops expecting to find underwear plastered with Harry Potter scenes, Ben 10 or whatever else young boys are into, but no. There are no characters to be found on boys underwear here. In fact, there is no boys underwear of any kind to be found here. What is called boys underwear looks like a Speedo.

Girls underwear, on the other hand, does not come in solid colours. Each pair is carefully plastered with pictures of Hannah Montana, fairies, or cute little monkeys. And no matter what the label says, the underwear goes halfway up to your armpits. Even the ones labeled "bikini".

You might be keen to admonish me at this point, "When in Rome, do as the Romans," but I don't think even the women in Rome wear underwear that covers their rib cage. And did I tell you I'm allergic to Speedos?

So now I'm faced with a real dilemma: do I go against ever fibre in my being and by my son speedo underwear, or do I hope his Buzz Lightyear underwear lasts another five years?

Thoughts on Parking Guards

Parking isn't free in South Africa. Almost everywhere you go there are parking guards who watch your car while you're shopping. When you leave, you're supposed to pay them R5 or something like that. And if there aren't parking guards then there are automated tickets and machines to pay for parking depending on how many hours you park.

But back to the parking guards. In any parking lot, there is a guard for every aisle, and being the creature of habit that I am, I usually park in the same row. Consequently I have the same parking guard each time. After a while you get to know these guys, and going to the grocery store becomes a social visit.

For example, the guard at Pick N Pay is going to night school at Tshwane University of Technology to study IT. Cool, huh? Makes me want to tip him extra each time I buy my groceries. The guy at Spar (pictured above) makes fun of me because I am apparently the only person in South Africa who drives around with a cup of coffee in my hand (a leftover from my Starbucks indoctrination, I'm afraid).

It is easy to see the parking guards as near-invisible service providers who never had higher aspirations than to guard cars for a living, but the truth is that most of them dream big dreams as do all of us. Many of them are foreigners from the DRC or Zimbabwe who just want to support their families and will deal with a lot to do so. Others have disabilities or are dealing with difficult circumstances, but at least they're working and doing what they can, and most of them even do so with a smile.

I don't know where I'm going with this, so let me just end by suggesting that the next time you meet a service provider that tends to be ignored - smile and thank them. Treat them with dignity. Be the bearer of grace.

Ek is Lief Vir Jou, Suid Afrika!

I've complained a bit lately about strikes and power outages, so I decided it's time to write about why I have fallen in love with South Africa.

There's something about the red clay soil, the soft colours of the veld and brilliant sunsets that gets into your blood. The coral tree, palms, bougainvillea, and jacaranda blossoms burn colourful imprints on my mind, and my ears are ever attuned to the birds - kiewiet, hadeda ibis, mossie, vink, dikkop, grey lourie, crested barbet, glossy starling.

One has only to open a window to hear the buzz of life - cicadas humming, taxis hooting,children laughing, street hawkers selling anything from maps to Rubik's cubes to cell phone chargers to homemade fudge.

And the people... someone once said a nation's greatest commodity is its people, and nowhere is this more true than in South Africa. Never will you find a more hospitable, smiling, resilient, joyful, resourceful, flexible or vibrant people than here.

South Africa gets a lot of bad press, but I want to say emphatically that South Africa is one of the greatest places on earth to visit, and I can't wait until the World Cup next year when the world will have a chance to see what I already know.

You are beautiful, South Africa.

Random Funny Sign

How exactly do you "drive" a horse?

Tis the Season to Strike

First it was the garbage men. Then it was the postal workers. Then it was the bus drivers and other municipal workers. Then it was Telkom. Then it was the postal workers again (and as far as I know they're still on strike).

Yesterday, though, the army tried to go on strike. 3,000 soldiers, to be precise. They marched to the Union Buildings, where the police were waiting for them (because you can't go on strike if you're in the army - not even in Africa). It eventually turned a bit ugly, with the police firing on the army and the army waving pangas, knobkerries, and throwing Molotov cocktails at the police. 25 government vehicles were damaged, and the city was effectively left unprotected while everyone converged on the Union Buildings. All because the army wanted a 30% pay raise.

I am learning to take all these strikes in stride. I suppose I'm on the "control-freak" end of the spectrum, but in the past two years I have developed an emerging skill: flexibility! I am learning that when I wake up each morning, my day might not go as planned. And that's okay!

(The only thing that bothers me is that I mailed a birthday present to my mom a few weeks ago, and I have this sinking feeling it hasn't even left the post office yet. Today is her birthday, so... Happy Birthday, Mom! Sorry about the present; I'm sure it will arrive eventually.)

This is What Happens When I'm Tired....

The postage workers have been on strike again (they were only off strike for two days). Our power is scheduled to be out for ten hours tomorrow. My car's making funny noises. I think I'll write a blues song....

My baby ate all the biltong
My baby ate all the wors
My baby ate all the melktert
And now my kitchen's gemors

'Cos the power's out
And there's no mail in town
The car's not working
And he's feeling mighty down
So he ate up all the culture
He ate up all the kos
And all he left for me
Was a piece of stale toast

Oh I've got the blues,
The South African blues.....

Blue Crane

Dan was driving home the other day when his eye caught a glimpse of this blue crane in a recently burned patch of veld. Being a man who almost always has his camera with him, he stopped to take this photo.

Incidentally, the blue crane is the national bird of South Africa. Beautiful and graceful, isn't it?