2011 Here I Come!

This year can ONLY be better than last year! 
So I am kicking it off being positively positive...
To full glasses! (and hopefully they are full of wine!)

Andizi

Plastic in the ocean

People can sometimes make weird and stupid choices.

Like for instance: yesterday was a public holiday in Tanzania (Independence Day I think?) and we all sat, sunscreened-up, hats on, drinks ice cold and geared for a mean booze cruise on the tender boat on our way to Dhow Junkie, our friends awesome dhow.

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All of a sardine the engine of the tender boat stopped and cut out completely....... We all looked at each other, oih, dhow is out thhhheeerrrreeeeee and the beach is a good swim away. There were murmurs about plastic wrapped around the engine .... and low and behold, as the "captain" lifted up the  engine, there was a  huge 50kg mieliemeal bag wrapped around it.

No problems, hakuna matata..... He just unwrapped it and unceremoniously chucked it right back into the ocean. I mean OH MY SOUL!!!! Was that necessary? Ready for the next guy to get stuck I guess.
Worst thing is that I couldn't get a word out to SCOLD this old guy for what he just did and the bag drifted away slowly.

I must say, I am pretty disgusted at the best of times with these Tanzanians dirty way of dealing with their rubbish. If you are looking to make good money quickly - start a rubbish plant somewhere and clean up this town. (not a nice job, but you'll make millions, because everyone will pay you to do it!)
Currently their reason for throwing plastic bottles, cartons etc out the windows of the dala dalas (taxis) is because it creates work for someone else. For GOODNESS SAKE!

Where's: Zip dit in 'n Zippy Blik! Hie hie!

Try and teach the people around you about cleaning up. We must start somewhere.

~desert rose~

"I do not think of you, that you can ever forget me"...

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A week ago I had to travel to Kenya for work.  Much of my time was spent in Karen. 

Karen is the suburb named after Karen Blixen that wrote one of my all time favourite books - Out of Africa.  The suburb is situated in the area where Karen's farm (Ngong farm) used to be.

I am a little obsessed with the prose in this book and standing in the lush garden of the lodge, I closed my eyes and remember my heroine writing: "The air of the African highlands went to my head like wine:  I was all the time slightly drunk with it, and the joy of these months was indescribable."

Karen tells about her days on Ngong farm that makes your heart ache for the open plains. 

Unfortunately, she was forced to leave and over time the plains gave way to the building blocks of Nairobi.

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I remember how she describes getting letters from her servants back on the farm that "came to me in a strange, unreal way, and are more like shadows, or mirages, than like news of reality."  They could not write and had to rely on the "professional letter writers" who also knew precious little English but tried to show off their skills, making the letters difficult to decipher.  Sometimes however, their message came out more beautiful than even Shakespeare could have phrased it.  On one of the dirty little sheets of paper her African cook wrote:  "We do not think of you, that you can ever forget us."

My beloved friend, today I send you a cheep postcard, bought from the stationary dukka on Kimweri Road and on it I simply write:
"I do not think of you, that you can ever forget me"...
xxx

Andizi

Question?

;-)

Andizi

Wise Dori....

My dear Andizi - in the words of the very very wise Dori, and I quote: "Keep on swimming, keep on swimming......."

You will have your "no ways" moment, I promise - it's around the corner.

~desert rose~

Flight or Fight

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"I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples and there beside me is the Stern Fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.|"

Ralph Waldo Emerson

"I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples Dar es Salaam and there beside me is the Stern Fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from."

Andizi

Beautiful

I recently saw the preview for "Eat, Pray, Love" and something that was said resonated with me in a big way.  I read the book two years ago and it was a fun read, but at that stage nothing particularly life changing. I decided to give it another bash.
Last night I came across this sentence "You where given life, it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."
When I read that I thought I would write about all the beautiful things in my life, the things that I have to be grateful for, the things I so often forget about and the things that are so amazingly beautiful they fill me with wonder every day.  But when I started the beautiful-things-in-my-life list I realised - it is a looooong one...which in itself was a good food for thought exercise!

So I have decided to choose only one beautiful thing to share that I have recently discovered...my bedroom's balcony...it has been under my nose for nearly 9 months and only now I am starting to enjoy my new found haven of tranquility...well, as much tranquility as you can get on any given day in an African city!
But I have taken to spending dreamy Dar evenings on my balcony with a glass of wine, a candle and a kanga wrapped around my shoulders.  More than once I have fallen asleep there cuddling Konyagi very much against his will.
In the early mornings I exchange my glass of wine for an essential cup of coffee and listen to the sounds of Dar rising.
And it is here that I am doing a lot of thinking..seeking...MUSING...about life, about people, about dreams, the future and the past, about love, about expectations, ambitions, desires.  In Afrikaans there is a quirky saying that goes "die liefde en die leed" - roughly translated as "the good/love and the bad/pain"...so I suppose on my balcony I am contemplating "die liefde en die leed"...and this little tiled space of stars and sunshine is what I have found to be beautiful in my life right now.

Andizi

Love Life Live

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I can't remember where I read this, but I came across it last night in my diary and it made me smile and think..."how true"...
"The gods where bored, so they invented humans.  But the gods were still bored, so they invented love.  The gods were not bored anymore.  The gods decided to try love on themselves. And then they invented laughter to make it all more bearable..."

Sometimes life and love is so utterly messed-up that all you can do is laugh.  In the beginning the laugh might be bitter and hollow, but eventually, however painfully slow, it becomes meaningful and genuine.  Because in the end, despite it all...we do still have a lot to laugh about!

So maybe it's not so much about loving and living as separate entities or carefully constructed acts, but about loving the life you live as a sometimes perplexing, but beautiful whole...

Ps...about the picture - The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli...I remember growing up paging through my mom's art textbook and being completely fascinated by this painting.  I would sit for hours and dream up stories about the mystical creatures spread out on a double page nestled in my lap.  When, years later, I was lucky enough to stand in utter awe in front of this masterpiece in the Uffizi Gallery in Florance, I could not stop the tears.
So while we are on the subject of love and gods and gods in love...I find Plato's interpretation of the above painting quite beautiful..."Venus had two aspects: she was an earthly goddess who aroused humans to physical love or she was a heavenly goddess who inspired intellectual love in them. Plato further argued that contemplation of physical beauty allowed the mind to better understand spiritual beauty. So, looking at Venus, the most beautiful of goddesses, might at first raise a physical response in viewers which then lifted their minds towards the Creator..."
Got to love Plato, man of The Forms, philosopher, mathematician, writer of dialogues and humble admirer of Venus.
Andizi

Phantom ghost pain

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Phantom pain sensations are described as perceptions that an individual experiences relating to a limb or an organ that is not physically part of the body(anymore, was at a time).


Treatment: Various methods have been used to treat phantom limb pain. Doctors may prescribe medications to reduce the pain. Some antidepressants (or loads of wine) have been shown to have a beneficial effect on reducing phantom limb pain. 


Phantom pain is not just limited to physical limbs but extents to the heart too.

Life Lessons

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Disappointments. What are you supposed to do with them?

My precious family has recently been the direct hit of a malicious and child-ish person/persons. And I tell you: what an incredible disappointment this has that been for us. We were shocked, shattered and sad.

After a lot of thought and picking other people brains of why someone would do something so degrading to someone else, I've come to the conclusion that the reason for their actions, must be because of jealousy.

This post is short, but all I want to say today is that, if you've got bad vibes with someone, or you don't like that person, don't be malicious, don't shame that person in public. It is not welcome. Go and talk to him/her, sort it out. We are all adults and don't need to be treated like "bad citizens" because of someone's hatred and jealousy.

Be the better person.

I'll have to pick up the pieces and learn from this disappointment and try again.

Steel Magnolias

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We have a theater in Dar rather fittingly called The Little Theater.  Every once in a while when we feel really culture starved, the local amateur actors put on a small production and we all meander down there for support.  It usually is a real laugh as there is bound to be someone you know in the cast and actors and audience alike take part in the fun!  A particularly hilarious scene was in Mamma Mia, when a good looking older lady played the part of sexy Tania and got fondled by a "beach boy", who in real life happen to be a surfer looking lad in grade 9 at the International School..."Does your Mamma know" indeed?!
 
So Wednesday night Frangipani and me headed down to The Little Theater for Steel Magnolias.  Remember the movie with Dolly Parton, Julia Roberts and Sally Field that made us laugh aloud and cry uncontrollably?
It is the story of several small town women who's lives revolve around meeting in Truvy's, the local beauty parlour.  It's all about friendship and love and loss. The plot is rather predictable, but even so, I could not help leaving the theater a little teary eyed, loving, appreciating and missing my girlfriends more.

And yesterday life happened and two of my dearest friends received bad news that caused broken hearts and many tears.  Aan my vriendinne...sometimes my words are just too insignificant and all I can do is give you a big hug, make you some cottage pie or sit with you under the stars and sip wine...not saying much...just sitting...
And if I am too far away, there are always The Girls, rallying around, laughing, talking, crying, drinking...being me, there for you...I love you all and miss you terribly!

Andizi

Spring(and hope) has Sprung

A lot has been said about the lack of seasons in Tanzania. I arrived in Joburg in the middle of one of the coldest winters and had to survive a black frost with ice on the windscreens one week in. Sharp contrast to the 40degree 90% humidity in Dar.

The 1^st of September marks springday in South Africa and is the official beginning of Spring. I must say I am enjoying the passage of time being marked in milestones. In Tanzania one day just seemed to flow into each other and just like that a year would have passed.

Here spring is palpable. You can smell the jasmine in the air, feel the heat of the sun on your skin and see the smiles of people on the streets. They say it’s the season to fall in love so braais are organized and picnics planned. No one misses the chance to be outside to soak up the sun on a Sunday. And meet new people ofcourse!

With the budding trees and blossoms comes hope, hope for a new beginning, hope for a better world and also the promise that things that die or hibernate for winter have the hope of coming alive again in Spring.

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Like a budding tree showing signs of life, a small voice whispers; you might just be fine.


~maisha

Loving straightforwardly

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There has been a lot of talk, reflections and musings about love going around.  Love and hurt. The intense kind of hurt most ironically caused by...love.
Off course the topic of conversation over many a bottles of wine has been about the above and relationships of all kind. What goes wrong, what you do to make it right, when to let it go, when to fight...
Frustratingly, I am still non the wiser, but all of this love talk, recent events in my own life and and trying times with friends has made me wonder about this addictive anomaly.  And then I stumbled across this poem written by the Chilean Communist writer Pablo Neruda...

"I do not love you as if you were salt rose or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance rise from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride.
so I love you because I know not other way
than this:  where I does not exist, not you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep"

I don't know if it is possible to love like this..."straightforwardly, without complexities or pride", but these words are just so hauntingly beautiful it makes me want to cry.  And for now the words are promise enough.

Andizi

Inspiration

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The Black Box of the 20s

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2009/2010 have been difficult years. We joke about it but a quarter life crisis according to the NYTimes is a reality. Reading the article What Is It About 20-Somethings? most of the content rang true with me; especially this part;

"The 20s are a black box, and there is a lot of churning in there. One-third of people in their 20s move to a new residence every year. Forty percent move back home with their parents at least once. They go through an average of seven jobs in their 20s, more job changes than in any other stretch. Two-thirds spend at least some time living with a romantic partner without being married. And marriage occurs later than ever. The median age at first marriage in the early 1970s, when the baby boomers were young, was 21 for women and 23 for men; by 2009 it had climbed to 26 for women and 28 for men, five years in a little more than a generation."

So will the 30s be the new 20s as your 20s are now more like adolescence?

Houston we have a problem

I am sitting on my bed trying to decide what to write about.  Konyagi is torturing an ant.
Inspiration evades me completely.  It has been for while and I don't understand why?!  I am experiencing one of the most emotionally charged years of my life!  This turning 30 thing is profound!  I am loving it and also hating it!
I have intensely become aware of certain things about me that I don't like, that I need to accept or that I need to change.  I have also settled into my own skin like never before. The contradiction of it all is enough to exhaust even the most severe narcissist!
I mean, the words should be dripping from my every pore...tortured creative soul and all that! But nothing...nada...zip...It is all "frightfully unsettling"...

Well, my bags are packed for a weekend to Zanzibar, the island of slaves and spices.  I am hoping to come back bursting with poetry and verse!  If the writers block continues after that, Houston we have a problem.  Watch this space...

Andizi

A little piece of Stonetown in Jozi

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My much loved painting of the streets of Stonetown, Zanzibar has finally found a home! A perfect place on the landing wall with a light perfectly positioned.


The Salsa teacher bought this painting on a random saturday morning excursion ( usually ended with mani's and pedi's at Lemon with a glass of wine from the English). Among all the different paintings this one really stood out.


After acquiring a new housemate the painting was banished to the washroom, and much to my delight she arrived at my house one night painting under one arm (and of course a bottle wine in the other).


So it came to have a cherished place in my house. When the time came to pack a life of 3 years into a suitcase the painting was one of the first to have space.

So now, every time I come home, I have my little piece of Stonetown in Jozi.


~maisha

A week in Scotland...

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Champagne on tap, picturesque villages, old castles, Loch Ness monsters, lush green fields with sheep scattered all over, beautiful meals, medieval costumes, live guitar music, roaring fireplaces, sound of Flower of Scotland on the bagpipes, Gaelic crosses, Highland games, kilts, tartans, Edinburgh, history, laughter…… a week in Scotland

~desert rose~

The size of hurt

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Hurt has been on my mind or should I say in my heart a lot lately. I am sure everyone can relate, be it the loss of a loved one or a broken relationship.

I am a very visual person, I can’t remember the words of a song but the logo of the band I can redraw. Thus I try to visualize things in my life.

Having gone through something quite painful recently I was wondering what hurt would look like and if with time the size of hurt would change.

My amazing grandmother always told me in anything in life, wait three days…you will be amazed at the improvement. So, I waited three days and as she promised it didn’t hurt as much anymore. As the days passed the hurt seemed to shrink and become a small throbbing sore somewhere in the back of my consciousness, some days even sub consciousness.

But then, one memory or a dream brings the hurt in its full size to the front again and it feels like all progress has been lost.

I find its almost like that old favourite teddy bear that we all had. We put it away at some point. But nothing can erase the memories. And when we open that cupboard again and take it out it is the same size, smells the same and feels the same as it always did. And all the memories flood back.

So maybe a hurt is always there and doesn’t change in size. Maybe it is something that becomes a part of you. Something you always carry around with you. Some days it’s just further from your consciousness than others.

I am still new at the hurt thing, so if anyone has had another experience some advise will be appreciated…

The heart of the Traveller

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” – Henry Miller

This saying has never rung so true as when I went home to South Africa for a month recently, taking a little time out of Dar for some work and play. This time, something was a little different from my previous experience of returning home. It smelt different, it looked different and it sure felt different!

The soccer world cup was just beginning and we were hosting thousands of people from around the world…The streets were bustling, everywhere around me people were speaking in different languages, I could smell the distinctive Grahamstown Festival air, and there was an electricity and pride amongst all South Africans that was so tangible, it was something to behold.

My trip on the Gautrain was one of my highlights. I felt like a kid about to go on a rollercoaster; taking pictures, minding the gap and entering nervously. It’s everything that it was meant to be - convenient, safe, clean and very comfortable but mostly its just plain AWESOME! A great public transport system is coming into place, it looks hot and everyone who was and is still involved (the assistants at the ticket points are very helpful, as certain people in their excitement don’t yet know how to charge cards uhm) is doing a fantastic job!

Something a little less manifest however, was how I was slowly becoming more aware of the way I understood what ‘home’ to lacked and possessed. I began to see what I had taken for granted before… simple things like being able to drink water out of the tap (I phoned Maisha in a flat panic because I was so thirsty and there was no water in her fridge), a constant supply of electricity (although I would not give up late-night dark chocolate indulgence on our  under the stars on our breezy rooftop), a media that informs and educates, more than adequate health care facilities and access to medicine…These are some of my daily preoccupations here, which at home I accept as the norm. I feel like I had a little more time to think…

…And traveling most certainly opens up one’s heart… Friendships and relationships I have found are much less stratified according to age, occupation or status etc.  It is a gift to share ones experiences with such a dynamic group of people, who constantly challenge me and who are a constant source of delight.  One is surprised, disillusioned, delighted and educated about people, religions, cultures, and mostly yourself.  And I think that’s what’s changed since I last went home, a gift that I have received from my travels and my stay in Dar: self-reflection. And with that comes an awareness of ones’ environment.

It was really amazing to be home, to spend time with my mom and to see the country that I hold so dear, in a slightly different way... And its just as awesome to be back in the heat!!

Frangipani